#the unanswered asks in my ask box don’t really help :(

[bibeebuneee]

☆》 we could leave the Christmas lights up 'till january 《☆

fluff ☆ just kissing ☆ smoker kei still, but there's no mention of smoking nor cigarettes in this

inspo : lover <> taylor swift (the one and only)

part i , alternate ending coming soon

ㅤThe holidays had finally come. You’re on a phone call with your mother. Your family is planning to move back into your childhood home, now that your parents are retired, they thought city life isn’t the best fit for them anymore. You left for college a long time ago, leaving your home to start a new life. You decided to come visit your family, to help with moving and spend Christmas with them.

ㅤ“Oh and oh my god, I think one of your little friend from school moved next to ours, maybe you could say hi before we leave! We should bake cookies for them” a school friend? Could it be Yachi? You haven’t seen her in such a long time maybe you two can hang out and catch up! Or maybe its Yamaguchi? Oh, how you miss him! You couldn’t wait to go home to your family and see who it is. “Yeah mom, totally! I’ll arrive tomorrow morning, so maybe you could pick me up at the airport, then I’ll get some rest and we start the baking in the afternoon” your mother could practically hear your smile through the phone.

ㅤThe next day, was all a blur, you were jet lagged and tired. You were limp and pale, and cold too. So, you slept for 10 hours straight. Only to wake up and ate so much, food coma threw you down for another 12 hour nap.

ㅤThe next morning you woke up and decided to look around the bedroom you never really live in. You moved to your college town not long after you stayed in the new home, so you didn’t have time to settle in. You then found an old box full of electronics. A familiar phone case stood out to you. “EEP!” you squealed from happiness. It’s the phone you used in high school. Aaand… it still turns on!

ㅤYou threw yourself onto your bed as you start to look through it. Your old games, pictures with your friends, and; contacts. And there you saw it. Tsukki. A flash of thought came over you. Call it. What? Absolutely not. You don’t have any feelings for him anymore, you don’t think, at least. Well, you do miss him. And miss his smile. And miss his laugh. And miss how he looked at you that one night. And how warm he felt. And how much of a nice kisser he was. And his lips around yours. And his grasp, and how small he felt against-

ㅤ Y’know what? You’re hungry. You left the phone in your bed then stumbled out to your kitchen. “Hi, mom” you greeted. “Come, eat. Then shower, and give this to the family next-door, okay?” she shoved a jar of chocolate chip cookies into your hands. Looks delicious, maybe you should try one. You slipped your hand into the opening of the jar. “Not on my watch!” your mother slapped the sneaking hand away from her jar, she pulls back the glass from your hold.

ㅤSo, you went on with your day. Breakfast, shower, pick an outfit, now you’re ready. “So, what am I supposed to say?” you nervously asked. “Just say hi, here’s some cookies, I hope you like living here, merry Christmas.. blah blah blah, just say stuff” she instructed. The cookie jar perfectly wrapped and tied with a red bow. “Well, can’t you do it, instead of me?” you’re all geared up now, in your coat and everything else. “Of course, I can-“ your mother smiled, quickly snapping a pick of you, ready for war and fight the blizzard. “-but I won’t” the smile warned off her face so quickly. “Now go!”

ㅤKnocking on the door, ringing the doorbell, calling out “hello”, came unanswered. You gave up, turning around to go back to your room and look through your old phone again. Suddenly the door opened, just before you turned around. “Uhh, hello?” a heavy voice rang in your head. Whoever it is sounds a little familiar, but not Yachi, or Yamaguchi, like you expected. “Oh hi! I’m [F/N] [L/N], my parents live next door, I’m going home for the holidays and I just wanted to give you this” you handed out the neatly wrapped jar, your head still on the ground. You introduced yourself over, just in case your mother was wrong. “I hope you enjoy living here, and I wish you a merry Christmas” you looked up, smiling wide, as a polite gesture.

ㅤ“[Y/N]?” his eyes widen in disbelief. You squint your eyes to see: Him. Short curly blond hair, familiar rectangular glasses. He looked more mature than how he did back when you were 18. Tsukishima Kei. “Kei? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snickered. Still taken aback from the handsome sight in front of you. His frame even taller, and his broad shoulders looms over you. He laughed a genuine laugh, like the last one you heard 3 years ago, still as beautiful. You blush at the pretty sight, maybe you still do love him. “I could say the same with you” he joked. You never heard him joke not out of somebody else’s expense before. You guess there’s a first time for everything.

ㅤ“I literally just said why I’m here, idiot” you joked back. You were so happy to see him again, its been so long. In the midst of your laughing fit he closed the gap between your bodies and held so close and tight. Surprised, you naturally hugged him back. He smelled the same, like smoke, but a tint of strawberry and the musk of a cologne mixed so jarringly. It really is him. “I missed you” his whispering almost goes unheard. But you caught it. You heard him. You missed him too.

ㅤYou made plans with him to meet up again later to night, you decided you’d meet at the town square, near the huge Christmas tree. And you two could go shopping and hang out! But that raised a question in your head: What are you to each other? Maybe you could finally be together, be something to eachother. But do you still feel that way? Does he still feel that way? It doesn’t matter now, you’ll think about that later. For now, you just need to get ready for the.. date? Fuck, you’re thinking about it again. Guess it is kind of like a date. Just the two of you. maybe you’ll get under a mistletoe and-

ding dong

ㅤThe sound of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. Is he here already? You ran to the door, excitement filled your heart. Swinging open the door, he looked at you, half of his face covered by a warm maroon shawl, but you can still his unusual smile in his eyes through his fogged up glasses. You didn’t realize you were staring. “Wow, do I really look that good?” he poked fun at you for staring. “Yeah, you look handsome” you blurted out. You thought you looked good, but in his eyes “You look heavenly”

ㅤ“O- oh…” he shut you up completely. “c’mon, we gotta get going before the good stores close” you hurried putting your boots on, trying to keep yourself warm. “You seem to know a lot about this place” he said, as you hopped out of the front door. “Well, duh, I might have to hold your hand so you won’t get lost” it was a code, a little poke at him, so he’ll hold your hand, but then probably he’d say something like “you wish!” and starts laughing at your lame attempt of a sappy romantic moment.

ㅤYou slipped your gloved hands in your coat pocket as a way to pretend you didn’t say what you already said. You nuzzled your face onto your shawl, you felt so embarrassed. What if he doesn’t feel the same way anymore? He called you heavenly, maybe it was a joke. Maybe he didn’t mean it. You’re not good-looking. You’re not as cool as you’d like to think you are. You don’t have many friends. Of course, nobody wants to hangout with a try-hard loser like you.

ㅤLittle did you know, he could sense your doubts and insecurity. You were walking so far in front of him, leaving him behind, practically. He ran up to your side. His right hand pulled your left out of your pocket. Interwining his fingers with yours, he looks forwards to the path ahead, a satisfied grin plastered across his face. “What are you-?” “Holding someone I love. Is that so wrong?” he cuts you off. Wait, Love? “Love? Wh-What do you mean by that?” you stuttered. Fuck, you just met again for the first time after 3 years. He can’t possibly still love you.

ㅤ“I’ve been waiting for you. waiting for the day you come back to me. And I knew when my family moved here, I’d have a chance of meeting you” his grip on your hands got tighter. “Why?” you asked, so unsure of what you heard. You stopped in your tracks, you turned your head to him, cold air hitting your nose and lips in an instant. He leaned down, his face now level with yours. His left hand pulled down on the shawl covering his face, travelling up to your cheek, caressing the cold chub.

ㅤ “Because I still love you, after all these times. I still have faith in you. You’re sweet, you’re cute. You’re, not that smart, but at least you’re trying. You’re not me, mean and evil and a bully and whatever you tell me I am, I’ll accept it, I was an ungrateful ass kid. But not to sound cliché, and cringy or whatever, but… you’re… you, I guess” his confession sent shivers down your spine, you can feel his hot breath against your lips. You looked intently at his eyes. A glimmering gold. Like the stars that are now waking up to decorate the cold night sky. Twinkling, hazed, and under your spell, and you don’t even realize it. Your pupils wander down to his lips, pink, and warm, you could feel them against yours already. Licking your own from reflexes, he snickered at your reaction to him.

ㅤ“You should kiss me, I know you want it” he whispered. Thank whatever omnipotent being up there, the one that is giving you the opportunity to even look at him, breathe the same oxygen as him. He looked so perfect. And you. You are so adorable in his eyes, the way your [E/C] wandered around his feature, scanning every inch of his face, landing on his lips. He’s thinking it, you’re thinking it.

ㅤ “That sounds like a good idea” you smiled softly lunging forward into his lips. Warm, soft, and gentle. Your hand squeezed his hand lightly, while the other rubbed up Tsukishima’s hair. you pulled away just a bit to giggle. Closing the gap again, you whispered into his lips, finally content with whatever it is between you two: “Can we always be this close?”

a/n : you dont understand how much I love taylor omfg I'm so excited for speak now tv because I am forever a speak now girlie, ALSO can you tell I've never experienced winter before (tropical country thingz)

#haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #hq drabbles #hq x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei

[babygirl-snugglefucks]

Shit. You’re sitting at the bar, exactly where you said you would be, wearing the blue floral top that would help him identify you. The first rum & Coke that you ordered to keep yourself busy while you waited for him has now been joined by several others; you, however, are still alone. You check your messages, again.

“David: “omw “

But that was at 9:37, over an hour ago. Your follow-up texts have gone unanswered, your calls go straight to voicemail. “Shit,” you say again. This attracts the attention of the man sitting a few stools down from you. He slides his drink in your direction, almost spilling it, as he stumbles closer to you. He’s a not unattractive person, middle aged, no wedding ring. You’re about to consider talking to him when the smell - whiskey and stale cigarette smoke and the foulest B.O. that you’ve ever smelled - stop the words dead in your throat, and you visibly recoil. No wonder he’s sitting alone.

As you turn to leave, someone grabs your arm “Katie! Oh my god! I was just thinking about you!” It’s a girl about your own age, in jeans and a hoodie from the local college. Green eyes framed by long brown hair look into yours with concern. Before you can tell her that you’re not Katie, she starts guiding you away from the bar. “I’ve seen that guy before, and he’s a total fucking creeper. It’s a good thing his stank acts like an early warning system. And you look like a girl who’s been stood up.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Dammit, I was looking forward to this. He was hot, and I was hoping to get laid.”

“Girl, I hear ya! Hey, can I give you a ride? My car’s right outside.” It’s a short walk home for you, but you weren’t planning on going home alone. And she seems friendly enough. “Sure,” you say, and follow her into the parking lot. You get into her little silver Hyundai and she pulls a box of Tic-Tacs from the console. “Breath mint?” she offers, “y’know, just in case we get pulled over, haha!” She pours 3 or 4 of the little pills into your palm, then appears to pop a few into her own mouth. The mint tastes a little strange, but it’s probably not meant to mix with rum and Coke.

She pulls into the street and asks, “so, where am I taking ya? I'm Steph, by the way.” You tell her your address, but she doesn’t seem to listen. “Got it,” she says, without changing direction. “Hey, I got one little stop to make before I drop you home, okay?” ‘Can’t you drop me off first,’ is what you want to say. “Okay,” is what comes out of your mouth, with too much effort. All those rum and Cokes seem to be ganging up on you now. “Thanks… I’m really… drunk.” “Don’t worry, babe! I’m taking care of you.”

You wake up slightly when you feel the car stop. The door is opened, and a large masculine figure helps you stand up. Then he easily picks up your slight frame, and carries you towards a small house. It’s not yours. You want to protest- you’re not supposed to be here! But your voice and limbs are not cooperating. You are carried through the door, then dumped on the dirty living room carpet. You register the smells first - weed and alcohol, the stale grease of empty pizza boxes and chicken buckets. Then you realize you’re not alone. You notice five or six guys standing around you before your vision goes completely blue- someone is pulling your top over your head; another pair of hands grabs your bra and yanks the clasp apart. You struggle, but your jeans are easily slid down your legs, dragging your cotton panties with them. The pink scrap of cloth is shoved into your mouth, and you realize with shame and excitement that your pussy is soaked. You can taste your arousal in the cotton.

Your vision is still obscured by your shirt, so you have no idea what the first man to take you looks like. Powerful hands are holding your legs apart, and you feel pressure at the entrance to your vagina. A grunt, and he forces himself into you. Your scream at the sudden pain is muffled by the panties in your mouth. The invading cock withdraws, then slams back into you. Again. Again. He finally grunts and floods you with his hot seed, then pulls out, and exclaims, “You got us a virgin! Great work, Stephy!”

A belt buckle jangles, and another cock is working its way inside you. This one feels even bigger than the first. You shake your head, and the shirt covering your face slips to the side. A colossal chest of chocolate brown skin fills your vision. You look down and you realize that even though his cock is filling you entirely, he still has another 2 or 3 inches to give you. A sudden jet of warm goo landing on your face and in your eye alerts you to a third man standing above you. As you turn your head to the side to let the cum drip out of it, you see Steph leaning against the wall, one hand clutching a wad of cash, the other one busily working inside the open crotch of her jeans. The massive cock spasms inside you, and fills you again with sperm. You pass out.

Daylight filters in through your bedroom windows, waking you. The throbbing pain of the hangover, and the pain in your vagina and asshole - they took that, too! - let you know that last night wasn’t just a dream. Ignoring the traces of blood and cum and your own juices staining the sheets, you reach for the glass of water on your bedside table. Instead, you pick up your phone. There are three crisp $100 bills folded neatly under it, and a new message from David:

“Thanks for a great time last night! Let’s do it again soon. ❤️ Steph”

<3

#dadsecrets #ask #story #thanks

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Wait for Me - All I've Ever Known Part 6

I'm coming, wait for me

I hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet, and it sounds like drumming

And I am not alone, I hear the rocks and stones echoing my song

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I don’t know what came over me, asking Jordan to drive me to Sam’s grave. First off, it’s not like there’s anything there. It’s an empty wooden box. Secondly, I don’t even like going there with my family, and I rarely have the courage to go alone. Jordan and I were barely cordial at this point, why did I trust them with this? But visiting his grave had been on my mind more and more since the anniversary of his disappearance, and the question had fallen out of my mouth before I even realized what I was going to say. The only one more shocked than me by my request was Jordan, their brown eyes widening as they spun to look me in the eyes.

“I could walk, it really isn’t that far. Forget I said anything.” I said awkwardly, picking at my nail beds.

“No, no, I’ll drive you. Come on, before everyone else wakes up.” Jordan headed for the front door, not waiting for my weak protests. So that’s how I ended up on the back of Jordan’s motorcycle, sporting a massive black helmet, and clinging to their waist for dear life as we made the short drive to the cemetery. 

As they drove, I couldn’t help but become acutely aware of the way my heart sped up being so close to Jordan. The smell of leather, cigarettes, and their cologne combined with the intensity of the wind in my ears and how my entire body was pressed against Jordan’s back was going to be the death of me. But once we clambered off of the bike and began making our way through the tombstones, I felt the sinking dread creeping up on me. The fear, the grief, all the unanswered questions. Feelings I usually forced into boxes and buried in the back of my mind. But around Jordan, I had begun to let go. Being alone with Jordan was like commiserating with a castmate in the dressing room after a play, especially now that they knew more about my secrets. So I could feel myself letting go, my posture (which was usually picture perfect) almost curling in on itself as we got closer to the location I had chosen - a tall oak tree a little separated from the others.

“I picked the spot.” I whispered to Jordan. “Thought he’d like the tree.” I didn’t expect them to say anything to that. I was grateful that they didn’t, quietly walking by my side.

When I found the spot where Sam’s marker was, Jordan made a show of putting in their earbuds, then leaned against the tree. They faced the other way to give me some privacy. I sat next to the small stone, focusing on my strongest memories of Sam’s face. Memories I kept locked away. The way his curls bounced when he was excited, the exasperated look he would give me when Luke was being particularly... Luke. The songs we would sing together, the inside jokes we shared. The million times he made me watch Waterworld. The way he never failed to make me laugh when I was crying. 

Tears started to stream down my face without me realizing it. "Where are you, Sammy?" I whispered. "Where'd they take you?" My shoulders shook slightly as I sobbed. "I miss you so much. Please, come back to me." I whispered quietly to the abyss. I rested my forehead on the cold stone, feeling waves of grief wash over me. Feelings of loss and anger and pain that I force down like bile, all coming up. I just let myself sob, feeling the weight of a whole year without my best friend crushing me all at once. 

And the fear. What if he was out there? Was he in pain? Or did he just die somewhere else? Some other way? Is he just rotting away in some forest somewhere? Is he lost or afraid? So many questions, no answers. And how was I supposed to do anything about it all alone? I didn’t even know where to start. I’m supposed to be some kind of fucking hero. I’m supposed to be smart. And my brother is gone and all I can do is sit around and cry, signing my life away to the corporation that uses us however they can.They feel entitled to us because they “made” us. Grief for Sam blurred with anguish at the situation I was in now, and the sickening realization at how helpless I truly was.

After a while, I sat up straighter, the sobs subsiding as I pulled myself together. I somehow felt lighter, and more fragile. Jordan threw a travel package of tissues at my head and I laughed as I cried, blowing my nose loudly. 

“Do you travel with those or did you come prepared?” I asked, chuckling. 

“I came prepared.” They said, feigning nonchalance. They were still leaning on the tree, gazing off into the cemetery. Jordan wasn’t one to shy away from silence, allowing me time to fully pull myself together. I stood up, brushing off my pants, and walking over to them. 

“Whenever I come out here with my family, they want to make it a big thing. Did you get the right flowers? Are we in the right clothes? Can the driver wait for us?” I sighed. “Sometimes I feel like fucking Truman. Always putting on a show, never really sure who it’s for.” I admitted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I could always tell you were faking it.” They said wryly, giving me a sideways glance. I laughed, a real genuine laugh, a little too loud for the somber atmosphere.

“It kind of does.” I said, smiling back. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a moment, appreciating the strange beauty of the cemetery in the fall. 

“What makes you think Sam is still out there somewhere? Is it some kind of sixth sense?” They asked me, keeping their eyes forward. 

“No.” I said, laughing lightly, and then I paused, taking a deep breath. “When Sam was suicidal, a couple of years before he disappeared, his biggest concern was us. His family, I mean. He didn’t want to ‘cause us any more issues.’” I put the last part in air quotes, a stray tear trickling from my eye. “It’s nonsense that he would just... disappear. But no one else thought that, so...” I gestured at the graveyard around me. After a long moment of silence, Jordan spoke.

“I always thought it sounded suspicious. But that’s not really what you say to a grieving friend.” They said finally. I laughed darkly.

“Luke and I have had multiple disagreements over this particular issue. Something to the effect of me ‘not knowing our brother as well as I think I do’ and just being ‘a silly little girl who can’t face reality’.” I scoffed. “It’s good you didn’t.” I found myself glaring ahead at nothing. Jordan shifted slightly. 

“I... think I overheard one of those fights.” They said sheepishly. “Not on purpose! Obviously.” They reassured me. “But it, uh, well...”

“That’s embarrassing.” I said, laughing awkwardly. “My relationship with Luke was complicated before Sam vanished, so that just made everything messier.” I explained. Luke acted like he was so much older and wiser than us, and was always willing to do exactly what our parents wanted him to. “Anyways, my family’s fucked, I’m sure your family’s fucked, because at this point, it’s a statistical miracle to be a supe with a good relationship with their parents, now let’s go grab some food.” I said, signaling the end of this little heart-to-heart. I smiled and made the trek back to their bike. 

When we made it back to the townhouse, Luke, Cate, and Andre were all lounging in the living room.

“Hey, nerds, we were gonna watch a few movies, pretend like we don’t have a shit ton of studying to do. Wanna join?” Andre called out to us as we came in.

“Emma will kill me if I don’t invite her.” Jordan said, pulling out their phone to text her. I didn’t know Emma well, but I knew she and Jordan went way back, and that she was a riot. She’s one of those people that you want to be friends with as soon as you meet them. She lights up any room she’s in, and makes everyone feel welcome.

Before I know it, we’re all crammed into the living room. I’m squished between the arm of this old loveseat and Jordan. Emma’s sitting on a pillow on the floor by our feet, and Luke, Cate, and Andre are all piled onto an equally old couch. I grimaced at the line up Andre had selected - a series of horror movies that looked to be particularly frightening. I toyed with the idea of coming up with an excuse to bail - I wasn’t looking for more nightmare fuel. I had enough of that in my real life, thank you very much. But I felt Jordan’s thigh pressed tantalizingly against mine and I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

The first movie went fine - The Exorcist. I mean, it was scary, but I was alright. Then came What Lies Beneath. The psychological nature of it was hard enough, but when Norman was holding his wife underwater, every muscle in my body tensed. I felt my hands begin to tremble and my throat threaten to close as the room spun around me. Laughter that I knew wasn’t real was echoing in the room and I couldn’t hear anything else. 

I tried to remember what Grace had told me to do. I started counting, knowing if I made it to a thousand, I could leave without drawing too much attention.

Flashback

“Listen, Mags, I know this is a lot, and you’re scared. PTSD is no joke - and while your therapist can give you tools, they obviously don’t know everything.” I clenched my jaw as she said this - Vought had made me agree to use Vought appointed counselors and I was prevented from sharing certain details with them. “If you’re ever in public and you start feeling an episode coming on, count to a thousand, and then excuse yourself to the restroom. By that point, you should be through the worst of it and be able to make it to privacy without alerting anyone that something is wrong.” I nodded, pushing down the torrent of questions I still had for her. 

Jordan must have noticed the change in my posture because they reached over and squeezed my hand, startling me and making me lose count. Fuck. I squeezed their hand back, trying to keep myself present. I focused on the feeling of the arm of the loveseat digging into my ribs, trying to force the sound of laughter away. I took a deep breath, realizing I had forgotten to keep breathing in my efforts to maintain composure. 

Their breath was hot on my neck. “You ok, little mouse? It’s just a movie.” They whispered softly. I nodded stiffly, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “Ok, then can you loosen up a bit? I’d like to keep my fingers.” My heart skipped a beat and I dropped their hand suddenly.

“Sorry about that.” I mumbled, the embarrassment bringing me out of my flashback slightly. I looked down and realized that I was trapped in my spot, cornered between Emma and Jordan. Every part of my body was screaming at me to run. I still didn’t feel like I could breathe right. Jordan looked back at me, concern etched in their face. I realized my hands were clenched in fists in my lap, knuckles white with the effort. Jordan picked up one of my hands, the one closer to them, and gently but firmly forced my hand open. They smoothed my hand, almost massaging my palm with their thumbs as they tried to soothe me. I took a long and deep breath, trying desperately to calm down. They interlaced our fingers, holding my hand in an effort to soothe me.

Finally, the credits began to roll, and people began cleaning up and saying good night. Everything felt far away, like I had turned the volume down on the world. I went through the motions, waving goodbye and getting up to go to bed. Once I made my way upstairs, Jordan cornered me in the hallway, the same way they did when we first met.

“You sure you’re alright, mouse? Need anything?” I shook my head but found myself stepping forward and wrapping my arms around Jordan in a tentative embrace.

“It’s been a long day.” I said quietly. They wrapped their arms around me, hugging me close.

“It’s been a long year.” They corrected. “You’re doing great. Sleep well, alright?” They said, before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And I couldn’t keep a small smile off of my face as I nodded and went into my room. Maybe everything was going to turn out alright...

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edits by @barbieprincesshilton

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #angst #gen v smut #luke riordan #sam riordan #lukes little sister x jordan li

[sotwk]

Random Writer Anon!!

When you get this answer one of the questions (or all if you really want!) then pass it on to 5 writer friends! 🥰If you have more than one WIP, pick at random! We want you to talk about your works, and celebrate with you! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Don’t worry if you don’t know how to answer these questions, I’ll be back with more next Sunday. 😉

What are you most excited to write with this WIP?

How has this WIP changed since the “daydream/brainstorm” stage?

Who is your favorite character in this WIP and why?

Hello Anon!

Thank you so much for initiating these WIP Asks! (I saw you drop these in the boxes of a few other fellow writers.) It's very sweet of you to give us an opportunity to discuss our works. <3

My focus is solely on one project right now, which is my Thorin fic for the Thorin's Spring Forge event. (Deadline is up next week---eeek!) I'm not going to lie; it's been a big struggle for me, mostly because my back-to-back winter illnesses have been killing whatever writing energy and focus I manage to muster. Hopefully talking about it for a little bit would help!

WIP Title: "The Broken Shield" (Thorin gen fic)

What are you most excited to write with this WIP?

This fic is important to my personal LOTR/Hobbit AU legendarium, which I call "SotWK-verse". It tells my version of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, which is obviously vital to the history of Thorin Oakenshield. But aside from fleshing out some significant points about Thorin's character and motivations, it also links his background to that of Thranduil, his family, and the Mirkwood elves.

I'm excited for The Broken Shield to shed light on some questions insufficiently unanswered by the books and movies, such as:

How does Thorin wind up hating elves so much? Is it really just old prejudice passed down by his forebears, or are there more personal reasons?

Why DID Thranduil turn his back on the dwarves during the Sacking of Erebor?

What the true cause of Thranduil's anger against the Dwarves of Erebor? (It's definitely NOT just because of some jewels.)

How did Thranduil's wife die in Gundabad (according to the movies)?

2. How has this WIP changed since the “daydream/brainstorm” stage?

Well, I'm definitely seeing how it's SO MUCH harder to get this ambitious tale down in proper story format than it is to just imagine and play it out in my brain. But that's the case with all fiction writing projects! I don't think the story or concept has changed much since I conceived of it many months ago.

3. Who is your favorite character in this WIP and why?

This story also prominently features Frerin, the Elvenqueen (Maereth, my OC), and Thranduil. However, Thorin is the heart and center of this tale, and he is my favorite in it. I think (or at least hope) this story reveals the true depth and quality of his character, and helps us understand better why he behaves the way he does in The Hobbit. I believe Thorin is a much wiser and kinder king and person than his father and grandfather before him, and I really want to prove that in all my stories, but especially this one.

Thank you again for the Ask, Anon! Wish me luck with completing this fic, my friends! Mahal give me strength! LOL.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin #thorin fanfiction #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #thrandul fanfiction

[ziggy-strdust]

At That Moment I Should Have Left Part 3

This is an alternate ending to Part 1. Part 1 is linked

https://www.tumblr.com/ziggy-strdust/716997737999220736/at-that-moment-i-should-have-left-part-2?source=share

Part 2 is you and Shiggy working through things and fluffy and a little bit of spice 

https://www.tumblr.com/ziggy-strdust/717441005916471296/at-that-moment-i-should-have-left-part-2?source=share

Part 3 is between Dabi and the reader. So please let me know what you think and if y’all want to see my other works that stored away. Thank you all for reading and for the support. 

This is spicy so minors go away  and involves both parties agreeing to using sex to get back at a cheater. So please proceed with caution if that is a problem 

-------------------------

Sitting there I grab the remote, a numbness settling over me. I pick the first thing that pops up which happens to be It: Chapter 2. Shiggy walks into the living room with a smile on his face. He holds out a glass of wine and the other hand holds a plate of truffles. He knows that this is one of the easiest ways to butter me up when he is wanting something. Taking the wine I try to offer him a smile only to fall a little flat. I know he sees it but doesn’t say anything about it, sitting down he turns his focus back to the tv. As the movie progresses I start to fidget. The text message was still sitting there unanswered but that little voice was still very present in the back of my head. “Hey, your phone went off before the movie.” He nods and grabs it looking at it, his brow arches, he opens it and types out a message. “Who was it, babe?” The nickname feels like sawdust on my tongue.

“Oh, it was no one. Just a friend asking if I wanted to help with his campaign later on.” He tells me shrugging it off. I nod, dread settles at the bottom of my stomach. He was lying to me about that. Why? I know that he could not possibly still be cheating. He has been making a huge effort, he takes me on dates again, he helps around the house unprompted. But something about this feels different. I don’t know what it is, but he is lying again. How much more has he been lying about. Has this whole redemption thing been an act? “Hey, how about tomorrow we go to the zoo. I know you have been asking about it. I was about to get a few extra bucks from streaming the other day.” The excitement that is in his voice makes me want to scream and cry. I just nod, grabbing my wine and taking a drink from it. He seems content with that answer. His phone goes off again, he tenses slightly before relaxing again. I scoot closer to him leaning on his shoulder. “Hey, babe I’ll be right back ok I gotta pee.” He stands walking to the bathroom. I sat there shocked and hurt. He really is talking with her again. I can’t believe it. I can hear his voice talking with someone on the phone, his voice was soft and affectionate. “Yes, I miss your voice also. I know. Yes, I am still with her, I was going to talk with her about possibly having an open relationship.”

“Oh, that lying son of a bitch.” I get off the couch and walk to the bathroom, throwing open the door. He is standing there leaning against the sink, a look of shock on his face. Tears well up in my eyes, anger burns in my veins. “Fuck you, Shigaraki. Fuck you.” I turn walking into our room grabbing out the suitcase that I had from many years ago. I start pulling out my clothes from the drawers, moving over the closest I grab most of the other clothes and shoes. Shiggy comes into the room and watches me pull out everything.

“Wait, please. I swear that was the last time I promise I won't talk to her again. Baby, please don’t leave me.” He is crying and pleading with me. He moves over to the drawer pulling it open and moving over some items pulling out a velvet box. “Please, I was going to propose. I promise I was ending everything with her.” He opens the box showing me the hazel ring with a black pear-shaped diamond. I stare at it and the tears start to flow again.

“Is this some cruel way of showing me love. I gave you so much. We have known each other for 10 years. 10 fucking years. We were together for five. You absolute son of a bitch. You are acting like you didn’t allow this to happen. You were the one who decided to cheat on me with some girl you met online. Some person behind a screen. You fucked this all us even though I gave you multiple chances. You fucked this all up. I am done. I am leaving. I am tired of giving you so many chances. So I am done. I’ll be back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff.” I zip up the suitcase and walk out to the living room grabbing my phone and walking out of the house. I call for an uber entering the one address that I know will not turn me away. When the uber pulls up in front of the crumbling apartment building. I sigh in relief.

“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” The driver, an older gentleman, looks very concerned. Nodding my head I shoot him a big smile and grab my suitcase heading up the stairs. Hitting the buzzer a raspy voice comes over the intercom.

“Who the fuck is it?”

“Dabi it’s me can you open up?” Not even a second later the buzzer sounds and it opens. Stepping into the apartment building the smell of stale cigarettes and cologne fill my nose making me want to sneeze, but also want to sleep. I hear a thud and a muffled fuck when the sound of heavy footsteps.

“Well well well what do we ‘ave here a little ember who shines so brightly in my apartment.” The rasp of his voice is comforting, the tears fill my eyes before I could stop them. “Wow hold up why are there tears?” He rushes forward placing his hand on my shoulder and pulling me to him. He was shirtless, his skin warm and soft under my cheek. Rubbing soothing circles on my back he whispers words of reassurance in my ear. “What’s going on ember?”

“He never stopped. He kept talking to her. He told me he stopped and  I believed him. I feel like I’ve wasted so much of my time and life on something so stupid. I feel like an idiot for not realizing what was going on sooner.” Sobs make their way up my throat. “We were having such a nice time and then he went to the bathroom and I read him talking to her. Stuff about an open relationship and how he misses her. He was all like oh no don’t leave I was ending it. Then he has the fucking audacity to pull out a ring claiming that he was going to propose to me. Like are you kidding me, he thinks that would change anything. No, he is a fucking idiot.” The tears turn to frustration and anger. “I don’t know if I’m more hurt that he thought that he could have both of us. Or it is the thought that I was stupid enough to fall for his lies.” Taking a deep breath I feel the chest beneath me rumbling and shaking slightly.

“Damn he is a fucking idiot. He let the best thing get away from him.” Gently lifting my face up he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. Sighing he backs away walking to the kitchen, opening the fridge pulling out two beers opening both, and handing one to me. Sipping mine I plop onto the couch, leaning my head back I stare up at the ceiling tracing the cracks. “So I was thinking, we could get drunk, play games or watch a couple of movies. You call out tomorrow and we can pack up your shit. You can stay here, don’t argue with that. I know your lease is up in a month, just don’t sign for the next year and you and I can figure something out.” Dabi starts rambling. Giggling, I decide to put him out of his misery.

“Hey, that sounds like a perfect idea. I am always down for getting drunk and watching movies.” Standing, I grab my bag and walk into Dabi’s room. Pulling out a pair of pajamas, black short shorts and a baggy t-shirt by the band name across the front it was on I stole from Dabi many years ago. Sighing I throw my hair up into a messy bun and walk back into the living room seeing him setting up a movie to play. “So ember what you want to watch?” Scrolling through next Netflix he pauses over a couple of movies reading the descriptions before scrunching his nose up and moving to the next. I take a moment to just admire him, yes he is hot and he definitely knows it. But there is a charm about him when it is just me and him that I have always admired. The reflections from the TV bounce off his piercings making them shine. Turning his head he sees me staring at him, smirking, he winks and turns his attention back to the TV.

“So I was thinking we could put on a horror movie of some sort. Like one of those really shitty ones we used to watch in high school.” He nods, scrolling through the options before selecting Tucker and Dale vs Evil. As the movie progresses I finish one beer before grabbing water not wanting to get too drunk but just enjoying a nice buzz. Looking over at Dabi I can’t help but smile seeing how relaxed he is. Thinking back on our friendship he has really mellowed out after getting out from his father’s roof. Glancing over he catches me looking, turning his head to fully look at me.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I'm just reminiscing about the good old days.” Nodding he opens his mouth to say something but seemingly decides against it turning back to the movie. I continue to look at him for a few more seconds, unable to stop myself. I lift my hand towards his face. Gently running my finger across his jaw, feeling the almost leathery texture of the burns. “So soft.” the words come out as a soft breathy saying causing both of us to freeze.

“Ember, what are you doing?” Dabi’s voice is gentle as he grabs onto my hand. He pulls it away from his face, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. His eyes burn into mine, searching for something he seems to find it because next thing I know his lips are on mine. Gasping I pull my head back in shock. “Oh fuck.” His eyes widen as he realizes what had just happened. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you were ok with that. That was so stupid you literally just broke up with him and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. Ember, I think it’s best if we just go to bed now, it’s already late. We can just pretend that this didn’t happen.” He drops my hand and gets off the couch heading for the hallway.

“Wait Dabi. Please.” I jump off the couch chasing after him. “Don’t please. I don’t regret it. I don’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen.” I grab his wrist pulling him back to me. Hugging around his middle and burrowing my face in his chest. “Please.” Looking up at him I rest my chin on his chest, he looks down, eyebrows scrunched together. “I want you.” Eyes widening he stutters out some form of words. Grabbing the back of his neck, I pull him gently down to me pressing my lips to his again. Sighing softly against them, biting down gently on his bottom one and pulling, letting it snap back. He lets out a groan, sliding his hands into my hair and tilting my head back he moves his lips across my cheek and next to my ear.

“Ember I can’t do this if it’s a one time thing.” He whispers to me and continues to lay little pecks down my neck.

“It won’t be. I promise.” Nodding he grabs the backs of my thighs and lifts me up. “Now that is out of the way, take me to bed Dabi.” Pressing my lips against his jaw and I gently bite down. He throws open the door and kicks it closed behind him. Letting me go he gently lowers me to the floor, and lightly pushes me towards the bed. Raising a brow at him I crawl onto the bed as soon as my back is turned a loud crack sounds throughout the room. I moan as the hot sting that comes from him smacking my butt. Turning I lean against the pillows pouting at him. “That was rude.”

“Don’t worry I’ll kiss it better.” He smirks down at me,

gently lowering himself down onto me. His lips press against mine, gentle moving when he licks lightly against my bottom one I open allowing him entrance. Our tongues tangle in a slow sensual dance, the passion starts to burn. What feels like years of emotions seemingly start to boil over and the kiss turns into a mix of heavy making out and frantic touches. His hands slide underneath my shirt, sighing when they make contact with my chest. His fingers gently caress the curve, he breaks away from my mouth panting lightly. “Can I take this off?” Gently tugging at the bottom of my shirt I nod arching my back so that it’s easier to get off. Tossing the shirt off the side of the bed he looks down at me. His eyes seem to start glowing as they trek over my skin, taking in every inch. “Perfection, how could you look this good. No one should look this amazing.” His voice sounds like he is in awe. That tone is something that I had not heard in what feels like a long time.

“Well it must not be perfect enough because it wasn’t able to keep one guy interested.” I mutter out, he quickly grabs my chin making me focus on him.

“He is a piece of shit who did not deserve you.” He growls out, “He thought he was some all mighty god, but in reality he is a pathetic piece of shit.” Dabi’s words sink in making me realize just how wrong Shigaraki was for almost everything he had done.

“I have an idea and I only want to do it if you are ok with it.” Looking up at Dabi he nods his head. “What would you say to a little revenge? Maybe some pictures or videos of us, like we could just stage them. Make it look like we are doing stuff, or we don’t have to. I don’t want to pressure you or anything like that, I just thought it would be a good idea since he’s such a dick about everything.” I ramble on, not able to maintain eye contact with him. The blush flares across my cheeks but creeps down my neck. Dabi blankly stares at me, wringing my hands I open my mouth to try and salvage what little dignity I have left, but before I am able to say anything about it Dabi starts to talk.

“I am always down to make that vermin know his place. And if you are comfortable with that then I am more than down to do whatever you want.” He cups my face light running his thumb under my eye. Leaning towards my face his lips connect with mine. We fall together like puzzle pieces. I reach out for my phone, patting around the bed. I don't feel it. Pulling away from the kiss Dabi doesn’t bother to leave my skin, his mouth moves to my neck. Kissing, biting, sucking, his tongue brushing against the sensitive skin on the corner of my jaw. One of his hands slides up my stomach, kneading one of my breasts. His other hand pulls his phone off the side table handing it to me. Opening the camera I set it up for video including a timer to take photos every 5 seconds. Leaning it against a water bottle on the side table making sure that we are both in the frame. Leaving it there we ignore it and go back to what we were doing. Dabi starts to make his way down my chest latching onto my collarbone, then moving to my breast. Pulling one nipple into his mouth he sucks, circling it with his tongue. Biting on it I moan louder than I meant to, slapping a hand over my mouth I try to muffle the noises coming from me. He tugs down my hand releasing my nipple with a pop, “Don’t you dare hide what you sound like I want to hear them.” Moving his mouth to the other side of my chest he gives it the same treatment. Fingers gliding along my rids and down his brushes over the dips of my hips. Following along the crease of my thigh, my legs spread open even more. Lifting his eyes up to meet mine he runs his index finger from my clit, applying the barest amount of pressure, making me gasp, spreading my lips open and slipping it inside. He moans, pulling his mouth off my chest, he sits back watching as his finger disappears inside me. Curling it upwards he brushes over that one sensitive spot inside. “God Dabi, more.” Smirking he slides in a second finger his thumb pushing onto my clit, rotating in slow circles. Barely pushing down, but just enough of a sensation to make me twitch.

Leaning his face down he flicks his tongue out licking over my clit. Squeaking, I try and slam my legs closed. Forcing them back open he removes his fingers and practically dives face first. Eating me out like a man possessed. Our moans mingle, the vibrations from his bring me over the edge quicker. “Mmmm……D-d-a-AH-bi. Close. More.” Bringing his fingers back up he slides two back in alongside his tongue and alternates between my opening and my clit. When my orgasms crashes over me, I swear my soul leaves my body, eyes rolling back into my head, legs shaking. He gently licks me through it, pulling back when I start to whimper from overstimulation. Looking up at me he smiles the gentlest smile I have ever seen on his face. I reach out for him wanting him to be close to me. Chuckling he comes and lays beside me pulling me back against him, pressing his chest to my back. “So who’s better?” I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“You 100%” Pressing a kiss to his hand. He chuckles, reaching over to grab the phone and stop the recording. But before he does he looks directly into the camera saying, “Fuck You Shigaraki.” Ending it he scrolls through the photos selecting a few of them and adding the video, he hits send. Setting his phone down he presses a kiss to the back of my head tightening his hold on me. We both drift off not paying any mind to our phones blowing up.

#dabi x y/n #revenge #shigaraki x reader #cheating #hurt/comfort #revenge sex

[psychic-master-will-archive]

((It seems I missed a lot, and I’m not going to add on to anything that’s already been said.

However, I will say that my blog is open to new interactions, and if you see any meme or post tagged open, that means I want you to interact with me! It’s a okay to send that meme or reply to my post. I can even make it longer if you’d like (energy pending because irl is draining).

I know I can rub people the wrong way, and being private/selective/mutuals only doesn’t help matters. I am, however, open to new people, new followers and interactions. There is only so much I can do on my own, and I can only reach out to so many.

I also want to add that I’ve been in this rpc since 2011, and the issues brought to the dash are not new and have been around for ages. I also want to add that, as of late, I am struggling to find the will (no pun intended) to be on this blog, or Lucian’s. I feel ignored and like I don’t matter outside of a handful of people I interact with. I follow close to 200 blogs, but barely interact with 10% of them. It sucks because you are all awesome and I want to interact with you all!

I also know that my inactivity due to irl and my other rp group can make it frustrating, especially since I can never seem to be on when the dash is most active. However, I love my muse and I love rp, and I really want to stay and do something. Whenever I see an open of mine go unanswered, or an empty ask box, it just really kills my motivation and desire to the point where I want to go on hiatus despite having a muse for my clown.

tl;dr: I feel the ones who brought up the issues with the rpc and have felt them myself, and all I can really do is just state that anything I post is fair game for people to jump in on. RP is a two way street, and if you want to interact, the best thing you can do is reply to a post with no notes, or send in a meme! It means a lot to other rp’ers, and something awesome might come out of it! I know we all have things we’re dealing with and very few spoons to work with, and we can only do what we can. Yet just reaching out to even one new person makes the difference, so if you can, please give it a try ;u;))

#ooc #tbd #Now to go back to seeing how the unova villain arc plays out

[beyondspaceandstars]

A Not-So-Lovely Surprise

Relationship: Kate Bishop x Reader feat. Yelena Belova Warnings: N/A Summary: You accidentally walk in on Kate and a mystery woman chatting. A/N: This is a short and sweet little thing I had the idea for one day. I enjoyed writing it and I hope I did the characters okay??? Also this is a vague recount of The Scene lmao hopefully you enjoy! also crappy title pls ignore

Masterlist

You tried to carefully balance the boxes of Chinese food as you made your way down the hall to Kate’s apartment.

This was a usual routine for you and your girlfriend. Whenever you both were back in the city, you’d pile on the Chinese food, drink too much wine, and watch whatever documentary was trending on Netflix. You brought the food, Kate always managed to swipe the bottles of wine.

She’d also usually be so kind to help you carry the boxes of food — the girl had quite the appetite — but you hadn’t been able to get ahold of her today. Or, well, for a few days, actually. Every text, call…all unanswered. You figured your best bet was to just saw up and hope everything was okay. Which, of course, was a little ridiculous but the last thing she and her family needed was more attention. You had some understanding of their high-profile life.

When you finally got to the door, you fished out the key she had given you and awkwardly shoved it into the lock. Just as gracefully, you opened the apartment door.

"Kate?" You called out into what you maybe thought would be an empty apartment. "Babe, are you—,"

Your words died on your lips as you looked beyond your stack of Chinese food boxes to see your very-much-present girlfriend and a blonde stranger sitting at the table. They stared back at you, Kate with a look of surprise, the blonde seemingly humored by your arrival.

"Ah!" The woman exclaimed. You briefly picked up on a heavy accent. "Kate Bishop’s girlfriend, what a lovely surprise."

Kate’s eyes grew even wider — if that was even possible. "You know my girlfriend?"

The mystery woman nodded. "Of course. I told you, I know everything about you, Kate Bishop."

You frowned and quietly stepped away to put the Chinese food on the nearest end table. You don’t think you’ve heard your girlfriend’s name said in full so many times before.

"Okay — Sure, but she doesn’t have anything to do with this—,"

"I am thorough, Kate Bishop." The woman shrugged and turned back to you. There was something…unsettling about her. Well, on the surface she seemed…fine, nice even, but then you caught a waiver in her gaze, a drop in her tone, and the name thing… "My name is Yelena, by the way. It is nice to formally meet you."

You opened your mouth to needlessly share your name, and Kate began frantically shaking her head.

"Yeah, um, nice to meet you as well… I guess…" You cleared your throat. "How—How do you know Kate?" You couldn’t resist asking — how could you not? It wasn’t every day you found your girlfriend chatting with a random Russian woman and…was that a pot of macaroni and cheese between them? Seriously, what the hell—

"Oh, she is just helping me with something, yes?" Yelena turned back to Kate and you could no longer see the expression on her face. But the look on Kate’s told you enough.

"Maybe I should… I… I’m actually feeling a little tired, I think I’m going to head out—,"

Your attempts to shuffle towards the exit, maybe to find help or — or something for whatever was going on here was immediately halted by Yelena.

She turned back to you. "No, no. Please, come join us, Kate Bishop’s girlfriend."

"I really—,"

"I made macaroni and cheese," Yelena continued. "Do you like macaroni and cheese, Kate Bishop’s girlfriend?"

Slowly, you walked around the table and took a seat next to Kate who mouthed, "I’m sorry."

"It’s…okay," you said, glancing back at the forgotten Chinese food. "If you know so much about Kate, I assume you know my name. So, why do you…"

"Intimidation." It was Kate who answered your question. "It’s a power trip, a high or something."

Yelena just chuckled and shook her head, her bangs moving with the motion. You finally took your time to really look at the woman who had invaded your girlfriend’s place. She had an air of confidence surrounding her, which you couldn’t tell whether it was malicious or not. Still, the entire thing was off — clearly. Even the woman’s impeccable fashion sense couldn’t hide it.

"Why would she need to be intimidating?" You asked. "Kate… What’s going on?"

It was absolutely no secret your girlfriend could be…bold. You always told her her head-strong personality and bleeding heart were going to land her in the trickiest of situations.

Yelena’s cocky smirk didn’t falter as she said, "Yes, Kate Bishop, why don’t you explain to your girlfriend what you’ve been up to?"

"What—What you’ve been up to?" You sighed. "Kate…"

Kate let out a heavy breath. "If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t get mad."

"Oh my God—,"

"Promise."

"Kate, it sounds like I’m gonna get mad no matter what—,"

"Promise me, babe."

You shook your head in defeat. "If you killed someone or stole something I’m going to—,"

"I’ve been working. With an Avenger." She paused. "Like…as partners."

The room was deadly silent as her words settled.

You cursed. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

#kate bishop #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x reader #hawkeye kate bishop #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop angst #kate bishop x female reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #wlw #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fic #writing* #fluff #light angst #one shot #kate bishop drabble #kate bishop blurb

[blu-joons]

When He Misses His Long Distance Partner ~ Enhypen Reaction

Heeseung:

A soft sigh came from Heeseung as his call was left unanswered, the only sound that greeted him was that of your voicemail, which he very quickly hung up from.

Beside him, Jay softly smiled as he watched Heeseung drop his phone. “She’s probably asleep by now, I’m sure she’ll give you a ring when she wakes up and sees your call.”

Heeseung’s head nodded glumly, “I was really hoping to talk to her, I thought she’d still be awake.”

“It’s hard,” Jay appreciated, throwing his arm around his friend, “I know how much you were looking forward to speaking to her tonight, but hopefully you’ll hear from her soon.”

“I’ll probably be asleep by then, time zones suck.”

A soft sigh came from Jay, trying to cheer Heeseung up. “Why don’t you text her in that case? Arrange a time to try and get up for so that neither if you can be asleep.”

“Do you think it could work?” Heeseung asked him, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Jay’s head nodded back at him, “you’ve got to try whatever it takes to make a relationship work, especially when it’s as distant as yours is with Y/N.”

“I’ll send her a text to wake up to, thank you for the good advice.”

Jake:

As another sniffle came from you, Jake struggled to know what to do. It was hard for you both, but for you especially, recent times had been piling on the pressure.

Jake waited for a moment, allowing you the chance to compose yourself before speaking. “Hopefully, it won’t be too much longer until I can come see you, or vice versa.

Your head nodded back at him, “I think that’s what I need to happen right now to cheer myself up.”

“Please don’t get upset,” he whispered, “because it makes me upset too. I’m trying hard right now to smile for you, but I’m missing you a lot and struggling with all of this too.”

“You don’t have to smile just for me Jake.”

His head shook in response, letting go of a deep breath. “I have to smile in the hope that it will make smile, the last thing I want to see is you upset or having a hard time.”

“Things will get easier,” you optimistically spoke, “one day it won’t be this hard for us.”

The sound of your voice getting brighter was all that he needed to hear. “Things will definitely get easier, we just have to ride out the hard time, right?”

“Exactly, and hopefully that will all be over with soon enough.”

Jay:

His eyebrows furrowed as Jungwon knocked on his door with a box in hand. Jay quickly invited him in keen, intrigued as to what had arrived for him so suddenly.

As he tore open the box, he peered inside to see several snacks inside with a note on top. “It’s from Y/N,” he laughed, scanning through what your note had included.

Jungwon’s smile instantly grew, “I best that must feel good to have something from her.”

“Definitely,” Jay agreed, flicking through the contents, “she’s sent me plenty of snacks from her home to enjoy, to cheer me up when I’m missing her is what she said.”

“That’s sweet of her, you must miss her a lot.”

Jay’s head nodded, trying not to let his mood drop. “It’s not easy, but surprises like this one certainly make it a little bit easier to get through until I can see her again.”

“And will you be sharing?” He joked, with his eye already on a couple of the items.

Jay’s head continued to nod, “don’t worry, I’ll be sharing with the rest of the group, as long as you know Y/N only misses me, not all of you.”

“Don’t worry, we know you’re the one she thinks about all the time.”

Sunghoon:

A heavy groan came from you as you turned into your street, scuffing your feet along the floor until a different pair of feet brought you to a halt, standing directly in front of you.

As your eyes looked up, a gasp came too, as your eyes met those of the figure. “You’ll ruin your shoes doing that, I thought I warned you about scuffing before.”

Your head shook as your arms wrapped around the figure, “Sunghoon, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come and see you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around you too. “I had a bit of time off, and the flights worked in my favour, so here I am.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t at least warn me you were coming.”

His hand jabbed against your waist, “what would be the point of it being a surprise if I told you that I was coming? That would ruin all the planning I put into this.”

“You’re the best,” you complimented, “do you want to come in, in that case?”

He grabbed his case, following behind you. “I haven’t booked a hotel, so I was kind of counting on you letting me stay with you for a few days to be honest.”

“You’re definitely staying here; I’m not letting you go anywhere else.”

Sunoo:

Both of you were exhausted, it had felt like some time since you both had the chance to talk, and although you had a lot to say, neither of you could quite find the words.

You were silent, whilst Sunoo was lost in deep thought. “It’s been really hard,” he whispered, only realising that he had said it aloud when you hummed in agreement with him.

A sight escaped you, “sometimes it feels as if I’m never going to get to see you again Sunoo.”

“That won’t happen,” he quickly assured you, glancing out of his window. “I don’t care what it takes, the next time we can get together, wherever that is, I’ll make it happen.”

“We’ve been saying that for months to each other now.”

His head nodded, although you couldn’t see as your eyes glanced out of your window too. “Just stick with me, I’m struggling too, but I’m not willing to just give up now.”

“I don’t want to give up either,” you responded, trying to find some fight inside of you.

Another sigh came, this time from Sunoo. “I miss you, a lot, but I’m going to make sure that we don’t let the distance beat us, please do the same Y/N.”

“I miss you too, and I promise that I’ll try to do the same.”

Jungwon:

As soon as Jungwon saw you yawn on the camera, his heart twanged. He couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up, unaware of just how late it was where you were.

You smiled all the same, relieved to get just a small amount of time with him. “I’m sorry for waking you, I just really missed you and my first instinct was to give you a call and see how you were.”

You quickly dismissed him, “I don’t mind, I hadn’t really drifted off to sleep properly just yet.”

“But you keep yawning,” he frowned, worried that his call wouldn’t help you sleep. “I can always call back at a more convenient time, especially if you’ve got work in the morning too.”

“Jungwon, it’s fine, I want to speak to you, not sleep.”

He sighed softly, conflicted by what truly was the right thing to do. “As soon as you start to feel sleepy, you sleep, don’t worry about upsetting me or anything like that.”

“I can do that,” you laughed, “I’ll stay awake for as long as I possibly can though.”

His head nodded in agreement with you, “the moment I see you so much as yawn, then I’m hanging up so that you can look after yourself.”

“Alright, I’ll just turn away whenever I need to yawn.”

Ni-ki:

Your head shook as soon as Riki picked up your call, lifting into shot the large parcel that had arrived for you just a few minutes before, filled with gifts sent to you.

His smile widened, relieved to see that his parcel had arrived safely. “You didn’t have to send me all of this, the poor postman was struggling to carry it all to the door.”

A quiet laugh came from him, “I wanted to give you enough, so you know that I miss you a lot.”

“I already knew that without all of this,” you chuckled in response, “I’m going to be eating sweets for weeks now thanks to all of this, and all of these teddies too.”

“Don’t forget the hoodie, that’s the most important.”

You grabbed the hoodie and held it up for him to see, “it still smells a little bit like you too, I can definitely tell that you lived in this just before you sent it off to come over here.”

“Is it that obvious?” He joked, “I thought I’d made it a little more subtle than that.”

You brought the fabric underneath your nose, inhaling his strong scent on it. “I really appreciate all of this; it just makes me miss you a little bit more.”

“Well, now you have all of this to cheer you up when you do.”

---

Masterlist

#enhypen #enhypen imagine #enhypen reaction #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenario #enhypen scenarios #heeseung imagine #jake imagine #jay imagine #sunghoon imagine #sunoo imagine #jungwon imagine #ni-ki imagine #heeseung #jake #jay #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni-ki #enhypen drabble #enhypen one shot #enhypen fluff #kpop #kpop imagine

[wisteria-blooms]

time after time (f.w. & reader) (6/7)

chapter directory: [one] [two] [three] [four] [five] [six] [epilogue] taglist: @impossibelle @ellenerys @sapnap-girlfriend (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)

pairing: fred weasley x reader/you

summary: Every summer like clockwork, Fred Weasley is paid a visit by a woman from the future. Every encounter is a chance to learn a little more about himself as he heads into adulthood. She divulges all he wants to know, but leaves one question unanswered: why is she here? Written in Fred’s point-of-view (third person) and Reader’s (second person, italicized). tags/warnings: time-traveling, romance, war, mourning, grief, death

(6): july 04 1997; 4:40 pm

It seemed that summers would be changed forevermore for Fred. Two years ago, Cedric Diggory had died, causing rumblings that the Dark Lord was back. A year later, his father had been attacked while on duty for the Order. It was one of the biggest scares Fred had ever experienced – the thought of losing his family. Then months later, there had been a battle at the Ministry of Magic that confirmed Voldemort’s return. Though he was able to enjoy the shop’s opening that year, he felt uneasy about the future.

It wasn’t until he attended the funeral of his old Headmaster last week that he was certain things were going to complete shit.

With a grunt, Fred moved boxes of merchandise that had piled up in his shop. Knowing the fragile state of the world and the thinning crowds at Diagon Alley, he and George decided it would be wise to focus on deliveries again. Sure, he had magic to help with the deed, but he was angry, and he preferred to physically handle boxes to ease his temper.

“Can I help?” the woman asked, trying to grab at a delivery on the other side of the room.

“Don’t need it.” He brushed her off and continued to ignore her presence.

She sighed. “I’m not coming back after this,” she promised as she dangled the time turner in front of him. “This is what I’ve been using, and it’s my last turn. See?”

“Why should I believe you?” Fred scoffed. “You lied the first three times.”

“You could at least extend me the courtesy of explaining everything. And besides, you so graciously let me in.”

He almost snorted at her words. The way he let her in was not at all gracious – he appraised her wordlessly and left the door open.

“Tell me why I should,” he grunted as he sealed a box shut.

“I’ve been at least truthful,” she said in defence of herself. “Your brother Bill is getting married, isn’t he? Your mum is busy like I said.”

He wiped the dust from his hands. Then, he looked upstairs at the office area where George had begun packaging next week’s orders the other day. He really was contemplating whether he should give her his trust. Like he’d previously thought, she seemed inherently truthful, and he was a good reader of people.

“You’ll let me ask anything?” he asked after a few moments.

“Yes.”

“Okay, firstly,” Fred continued without missing a beat. He glanced at her hand again, at the silver band that’d been there every year she’d returned. It was suspicious because she’d never talked about a lover or being married. “What’s the ring on your hand? The one you keep touching. Who’s the unlucky man?”

“Oh, this old thing?” she asked, slipping it off her ring finger. She tossed it to Fred, who caught it with both hands. “It’s nothing special in itself.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” he said, appraising the nicks and scratches in the lifeless silver. It looked like something that his grandparents would’ve worn back in the day. “Couldn’t even get a knut for this if you tried to trade it in at the second-hand shop.”

He tossed the ring back to her. “So why keep it?”

“I was told I’d get a good return on it.” She slipped the ring back on her finger where it looked like it perfectly belonged.

“Oh?” Fred asked, looking interested now. He wouldn’t pass up the chance to hear about a good investment.

The bone-chilling winds of January kept you contained in the cottage. Being inside most of the time meant a lot of household duties to be taken care of. You spent most days tidying around the house with the radio on, alternating between smooth jazz and Lee’s voice on Potterwatch. George had gone off with Lee for a change in scenery and to quote, ‘to get away from you and Fred.’

George had also, to your embarrassment, remarked he’d never seen Fred like this. And if he had to guess, this was how Fred would fall in love: hard and fast. When he was sure, he was sure and there was no going back. You shook your head and sent George off, unwilling to accept the fact that Fred was in love with you. You reckoned it couldn’t be any sort of love deeper than an adolescent infatuation.

Today, after your chores, you were sat in the living room and admiring how beautiful and pristine the snow looked on the evergreens.

“Hey,” called Fred as he entered the living room. “Want to see something more interesting?”

“Such as?”

“Come on.”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you upstairs until you were standing under the attic door.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you inquired nervously as you climbed up the ladder with him. Fred pushed the door open and crawled through.

“Consider it a treasure hunt,” he responded, helping you up the last steps. The attic housed possessions that belong to his late grandparents and to his late uncles, Fabian and Gideon. “And trust me, love, it is a million times more interesting than what you were doing.”

“I'd been cleaning,” you huffed. “It’s quite important, you know. Especially living with someone like you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said and placed a long kiss to your forehead.

After a few moments, Fred turned to large drawer on the far side of the room. Eagerly, he began to rummage through the contents. Unknowingly, his elbow knocked over a red velvet box. It fell over and split open as it hit the floor. A gleaming ring fell out and rolled until it hit the wall. Fred was quick to sweep it up. He turned it side to side under the light, trying to appraise its value.

It was a simple silver band, nothing fancy or expensive, likely bought at the market one weekend and forgotten in a pile in the attic.

“You’re going to hold onto that?” you questioned. “I thought we were just looking.”

“Hm, how about we make a trade?” suggested Fred, twirling the ring between his thumb and index finger.

“What kind of trade?” you asked, cautious of what antics Fred had in mind. He was a businessman first and foremost, wasn’t he?

“Keep this,” he cupped your hand and placed the ring flush on your palm, “let it accrue, bring it back to me after the war, and I’ll give you something more valuable in return.”

“Something more valuable? And I just have to hold onto it?” you repeated, staring at the silver band. You placed it in your pocket and matched Fred’s grin.

“You’ve really got nothing to lose,” he affirmed.

“You’re on, then.”

“Don’t lose it now, love,” he tutted as he took the ring out from your pocket and slid it on your ring finger instead. He chuckled as your face went red with realization. “Best to wear it. And blimey, it fits you perfectly.”

“You aren’t serious?”

“Do I ever kid?”

You peered at him in silence before everything you were feeling spilled out. “Always, Fred! Sometimes, I think you’re serious, but it turns out you’re just kidding.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his hands coming out to stroke your reddening cheeks. “What am I without my jokes? I’d be boring like our dear Georgie.”

"No, I want to believe you with all my heart,” you explained, shying away from him. “But sometimes, I can’t decide if that’s a completely safe thing to do.”

“Okay, then let me be serious for a moment,” he said. He took your hand into his and looked at the silver band on your ring finger. “I, Fred Weasley, promise if you hold onto this, the first thing we do after this is all over is shop around Diagon Alley for one that you actually fancy.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“You promise?”

“On my life.”

He leaned down and inched closer to you, his nose brushing against yours. You could feel the flutter of his eyelashes as his eyes closed. No sooner did you feel the brush of his soft lips against yours. His hands moved up your shirt and grasped the bare skin of your waist. Fred pulled back and looked earnestly at you.

“Let me show you.”

“Well, who gave it to you?” he asked, the boxes on the side of the store long forgotten.

She chuckled.

“You did.”

He paused. “I did?”

“Yes, you,” she responded with a laugh. “Fred Weasley, you have a heart. Is that so hard to believe?”

She turned her head to look outside at the vacant streets. She stared intently at one of the boarded-up shops on the intersection. Its doors were still encrusted with diamonds though a former glory of itself. Little did Fred know, like all girls dreamed of, it had been her dream too: a ring from the man she loved most, from the most beautiful jewelry store in Diagon Alley.

Almost wistfully, she continued, “you promised me a good return. I’m still waiting.”

Fred furrowed his eyebrows. It wasn’t like him at all to not uphold a promise.

“You swindled me!” She was relentless in her teasing.

“I’d never!” he protested, getting up from his seat and throwing his washcloth down. All his previous anger had washed away at their silly banter. “Come on, let’s settle the score now. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” she responded, getting up as well. “I’ve just decided to forgive your debts.”

She held up the time turner and dropped it in his hands.

“Oh, you also gave me this. So, you can’t be angry at me for being here.”

Fred held your hand to stop you from shaking: from nerves and from the sheer height off the ground as you stood on the balcony. Both of you knew that you were walking into a permanently changed world, and whether you’d walk out together was entirely up to fate. And you could only hope it was the right side of it.

“Merlin,” he remarked as the walls began to crumble down on the other side of the castle. You watched the cement cascading down, aware that the wreckage was drawing closer and close to you. There was no escaping now. The sound of warfare was overwhelming, trickling in deafening decibels. Flying debris streaked your face, cutting away at the delicate skin of your cheeks.

You closed your eyes and concentrated on Fred’s voice, which was getting harder and harder to hear over the collapsing castle and the screams of people below. “Why did it take so long for us to find each other? Seven years and yet we were just metres from each other?”

“Even if it’s just been a couple of months,” you said, keeping your hand firmly in his. “I feel like I’ve known you for lifetimes.”

“Me too,” he affirmed. It was the first time you heard his breath shake which was uncharacteristic for a man you knew to be so fearless. His finger skimmed over the ring he gave you in the attic. Then, he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it. “If we met earlier, I’d do it again.”

“Tell me we’ll be okay,” you pleaded. You stared at Fred, looking for comfort. “Tell me I’ll see you after tonight.”

Fred was silent. He felt the desperation in your eyes grow with each second he didn’t speak. He felt awful that he couldn’t give a straight answer, but he wasn’t a man of false promises. He really did want to give you the world after but couldn’t if he wouldn’t be alive to do so. Instead, he took something from his own pocket. You looked down at the glowing locket curiously then back at him.

“Yeah,” he said, enveloping you in a hug and shielding you from the flying debris. You coughed into his chest from the thick smoke. His hands trailed down your coat. “You’ll see me.”

You felt the weight of the object as it settled in your pocket and he felt the weight of a beautiful white lie as it left his lips.

“Right before we ran into war, you dropped this in my p-pocket and I had no time to ask,” she choked back a sob as she spoke. “You gave me a time turner for a reason I’ve been searching for all these years.”

“For what reason? So you could come back and bother me?” he laughed. “Merlin, I’m mean to myself, hm?”

He sat back down on some boxes behind him. His resolve to joke was faltering. He watched her lips tremble and her hands shake, and it made his heart lurch. Her mood had taken a complete nosedive after talking about the time turner.

“I understand it now,” she said. She inched towards him slowly and brushed his red hair back. Carefully and on her tiptoes, she placed a light kiss to his forehead. He was receptive, leaning down to make it easier for her. He could see tears forming in her eyes as she looked longingly at him, not a desperate kind of love but a deep aching love that had lost all chance of being returned. “Thank you—” she gasped for breath, “for letting me into your life.”

Her fingers grazed his forehead at the spot he’d been kissed. Suddenly, Fred began to feel hazy, and the vision of the woman in front of him was blurring. Each passing second, he was beginning to lose memory of her. No matter how hard he tried to hold onto each beautiful feature of hers, she trickled away like she’d never been here. Her voice faded with each tick of the clock behind him.

“I’ll love you forever.” She sounded so far away, so distant. “Even if time was never on our side.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

[electricbarnes]

tell me you still see me

steve rogers x reader

summary: steve has been working a lot lately. you begin to have doubts about your relationship.

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration 

wc: 5.9k | warnings: some angst, overthinking, self-doubt, implied smut 

note: this is a repost from my old account that was deleted. so if it’s familiar, that’s why! i wasn’t planning on reposting but i read it over and decided why not. i have another steve fic that i’m almost done with, so i wanted to post this in the meantime. i made a few minor edits. i hope you like it! and if you decide to reread it, thank you x1000 !!

You arrive at your apartment, hands filled with groceries for the week. You struggle to open the door with the many bags on your arms, but eventually make it inside. You kick off your heels and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. After freeing your hands, you reach into your purse to find your phone. You unlock it and tap on the first name at the top of your recent calls.

The phone rings for a bit before you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice saying “Hello”.

“Oh my god Steve, you’re never gonna believe what I saw at the store just now,” you say, thinking of the wild thing you witnessed during your shopping trip. It’s not everyday that you see someone throw themselves into a cereal box display. It was a hilarious sight and you just wanted to tell someone about it.

“So, I was just strolling through the isles looking for some snacks when a-” you’re cut off before getting too into the story.

“Honey, can this wait? I’m about to go into a mission briefing,” Steve says in a hushed tone. Immediately, you feel guilty for interrupting him while he’s busy. It was well into the evening and you had assumed he wouldn’t be working.  

“Oh, uh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” you apologize.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, talk to you later then.”

The phone beeps, indicating the call was over. You sigh and go back to the task of putting your groceries away.

You decide to lounge around the rest of the day, trading your work clothes for some comfy sweats and a tee shirt. You spend the night mindlessly scrolling through social media while reruns of some sitcom play on the tv. You even send Steve a few memes here and there. You’re not really sure if he’ll understand them but they reminded you of him.

After eating a late dinner, you channel surf for a bit before putting on a random movie. When the movie finishes, it’s nearly 11pm and you realize that Steve hasn’t called you back. You pick up your phone, tempted to call him but decide it’s better to wait till tomorrow. He hasn’t replied to your texts, so there’s a chance he’s still busy despite the late hour.

Unfortunately for you, being a superhero is a full time job, which means that Steve can be busy at any moment of any day. You knew this going into a relationship with thee Captain America. To be fair though, you didn’t think you’d actually get to know the super soldier like you do now.  

When you met Steve, he was just some handsome guy at the park who helped you with directions when you were visibly lost. You ended up seeing him at the park again a couple days later. Recognizing you, he stopped and asked if you wanted to get a coffee. Who were you to deny this man?

You spent two hours in a café getting to know each other before exchanging numbers. In hindsight, his vague answers about his career were a little suspicious. It wasn’t until you went home that night and saw a picture of Steve in a tweet captioned “idc that captain america is like 100 yrs old, he can still get it 😍”.

Needless to say, you were shocked. While you were feeling dumb for not recognizing him sooner, you also wondered why he didn’t say anything. After an awkward confrontation about the subject, he explained how he didn’t want you to go out with him just because he was Captain America. You were quick to ease his worries and reassure him that you were interested in Steve for Steve, not for his heroic persona.

Since then, your relationship with Steve has been nothing but amazing. He was always so sweet with you, taking you on simple but romantic dates. There was something about that 40s charm that was so endearing. You loved the small things, like how he would always open the door for you or how he would bring you flowers on each date. It was so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. You felt like he was not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend.

There were times where you wondered why he ever picked you, an average person compared to the super people he’d work with everyday. He could’ve had anyone he wanted. Steve would say that you were like his sanctuary from the hectic world of being an Avenger. It meant a lot to you that you could be that person for him. You thought he deserved some peace after everything he’s been through. He wanted to protect you from the evil that inherently came with the job, which you understood, so he rarely spoke about the missions he’d go on. The less you knew the better. Though sometimes, you would wish he’d open up more about what was going on while he was away. Especially since he would be gone for days on end.

It was only a month into your relationship that you realized how hard it’d be when he would leave to be Captain America. It was his first time leaving for a mission that lasted longer than a day. He had to spend a week in some place on the other side of the world with no way of contacting him. Of course, you were worried the entire time he was gone. Despite trying to distract yourself with work and personal tasks, Steve was always at the forefront of your mind.

You had never felt such relief than the day he called you after a whole week of silence. Steve had even asked you shyly if he could come over that night. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he told you that he needed to see you. It was the first time he had spent the night at your place. Having Steve’s arms wrapped around you the entire night just felt right. You knew as early as then that you loved him.

Over the year that you had been together, those long missions became easier to manage. You’d always trust that he’d come back to you in one piece. Steve would sometimes feel guilty about being away for so long that he’d try to make it up to you by taking you on an extraordinary date. But you always assured him that you were happy to just be with him, even if it was just something like the two of you watching a movie at your place.

Lately, Steve has been more distant with you. You’ve chalked it up to the fact that there’s a literal distance between you two since he’s moved upstate to the newly built Avengers compound. Before, he was just a short drive away from the Avengers tower to your apartment. Now, he’s hours away from you. There were discussions of you moving in with him, but your job was in the city and you couldn’t leave that behind.

You both decided to make the best of the situation, calling and texting whenever possible. FaceTiming was the usual occurrence throughout the week, often before bed. You’d tell him about your day in the office and he’d tell you about the new recruits he would train. On the weekends, he’d stay over at your place. It was rare that you’d stay at the compound. Steve said he’d preferred your apartment, claiming it was homier than the compound. Plus, you’d actually have some privacy.

For a long time, it had been a good system. You love Steve and did anything to make the relationship work because he’s worth it. Yet, you couldn’t help the lonely nights where you wondered if he felt the same.

Calls were less frequent. Texts were unanswered. Weekend plans were cancelled because Steve would be assigned to missions during those days. You’d understand, of course. He’s out there saving people! You can’t fault him for that, but it doesn’t stop you from missing him.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him in person. You had texted him throughout the day, but texting wasn’t his favorite thing. Texts were usually reserved for quick check-ins and reminders of I love you’s. He preferred calling and you did too, hearing his voice was much better.

After learning that he had been back from a short mission, you texted him.

You: FaceTime later? ☺️

You were eager to see him, even if it was through a screen. You were just hoping he had the time.

Steve ♡: Sure.

Later that night, you sat on your bed with your laptop, opening up FaceTime. After a few rings, Steve’s face appears on the screen. A smile immediately breaks out on your face.

“Hi babe!” you say cheerily, finally getting to see your boyfriend after what felt like forever.

“Hi honey,” he says with a soft smile.

Your smile dims a bit, eyebrows furrowing when you recognize the background. “Are you still in your office?” It was pretty late and you assumed he’d be in bed by now.

“Yeah, I was finishing up on some mission reports,” he explains, shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” you apologize, recalling the last time you had interrupted him from his work.

“No, no” he waves his hand, “I thought I’d be done by now too, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”

You frown at the thought of your boyfriend overworking himself. You want to ask him about it, but you know he’ll say what he always does when you ask about his missions: It’s classified.

“You’re not stressing yourself out too much, are you Steve?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. Even through the hazy quality of the webcam, you can see the tired look in his eyes.

“Never,” he says with a smirk.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” you say with a teasing tone.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about honey,” he reassures you. “Besides, I wanna know what you’ve been up to.”

You scoff, “well, it’s definitely not nearly exciting as your week must’ve been.”

“I still wanna know,” he says with that boyish grin you love.

Steve always knew how to make those butterflies appear. You end up telling him about the incident you witnessed at the store which makes him laugh as he imagines the odd sight. He tells you about a prank Tony pulled on him and Sam and you beg him to send you the recording of it. He refuses, but you know you’ll get your hands on the footage eventually. Things felt normal again, just talking to him.

“So I was mixing the dough and halfway through I realized I completely forgot about the eggs,” you were in the middle of telling him about the new recipe you ended up ruining earlier this week.

Steve hums in response. You notice him looking to the side, not looking at the screen and you hear the sound of typing.

“and then a blue monster broke into my apartment,” you make up in an attempt to get his attention.

“Mhmm”

“and he stole all the cookies,” you continue.

“Hmm”

“Steve,”

Silence.

“Steve,” you say with a little more force.

“Huh?” he finally looks up at the screen.

“You’re not listening to me,” disappointment laces your voice.

“I was,” he quickly defends but you don’t buy it.

“Uh huh,” you cross your arms and lean back against your headboard. “What was I talking about?”

Steve glances elsewhere, not meeting your eyes when he mumbles “something about a party?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry honey, I was listening, really… but these reports need to be done,” he says with an apologetic look on his face.

You couldn’t stay mad at him, but you did feel hurt that he would pretend to listen rather than just telling you something.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He must notice the disappointment on your face because he apologizes once more.

“I’ll make it up to you honey,” he promises.

“Are you coming this weekend?” you ask hopefully. He couldn’t come last weekend and you were missing him terribly.

“Of course,” he gives you a tired smile that you return.

“Okay, finish those reports and get some sleep,” you instruct, emphasizing the last part.

“Yes ma’am,” he raises his hand, mock saluting you which makes you giggle.

“Goodnight Stevie, I love you,”

“Love you too sweetheart”

The call ends and you go to bed with a smile on your face.

The rest of the week goes by quickly. You’re excited to get to the weekend because that means you can finally see your boyfriend, in person! Not just behind some screen. It’s been almost three weeks since the last time he came over and you miss his touch.

It was Friday afternoon and you were sitting at a small table in the cafe you frequent, taking a lunch break. Halfway through your break, you got a call from Steve. You were a little surprised to see his picture pop up on your phone since you’re usually the one to call him. Nevertheless, you smiled and answered “Hi babe.”

“Hey honey,” he greets.

“I’m glad you called, I was thinking of picking up a few things from the store after work today. Do you need anything?”

“Uh… about that,” he says in a low voice. Your heart immediately sinks, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“You’re not coming.” A statement, not a question.

“I’m sorry honey. A mission came up and we leave tonight,” he explains and you almost want to laugh. Of course he’s leaving again.

“How long?” you ask. Maybe it’s just for a day and he can still come on Saturday or even Sunday.

“Two days… maybe three,”

You take a moment to process his words. Part of you saw this coming. It seemed too good to be true that you’d finally have him all to yourself. You glance up, trying to fight the sudden feeling of tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a busy café.

“There’s… there isn’t a chance you can skip this one?” you hesitantly ask. Normally, you’d just accept it, but your patience was running thin. This is the second time in a row he’s cancelled on you.

“You know I can’t. This is important,” he says it so sternly, like he doesn’t realize he’s breaking your heart. The missions are always important. More important than you.

“Yeah, but you’ve been working nonstop. I mean, don’t you want a break? Aren’t there others who can go instead?” you argue, voice raising.

“Y/N, I’m going. I have to,” he insists, leaving no room for an argument. You knew how stubborn Steve could be, so you knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on this. Rationally, you knew he probably had no choice in the matter but you took a chance anyways.

“Okay,” you relent.

You can hear Steve sigh before saying, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He’s been saying that a lot lately, but you know they’re empty promises.

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he says much softer than his previous tone.

“Love you too,” you say back, but your heart hurts.

Before you met Steve, sleeping alone wasn’t so bad. Some nights you would be on your phone, scrolling through social media till you eventually got sleepy. Other times, you’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about your day and mentally planning the next. Too often you found yourself overthinking about something you did, something you wish you could change. Or you would be anxious about something coming up, running through different scenarios of how it’d go. For some reason, your mind wouldn’t let you succumb to the sleep that your body desperately needed. But you were used to it.

Then Steve came along and he’d be there to ease your mind. On the nights he would stay over, sleep came much easier. There would still be nights where your mind kept you awake, but Steve would be lying right next to you. You’d be on his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your back as you told him about that meeting you were nervous about or how you got in trouble by your boss for a simple mistake. Steve would assure that everything would be okay and you found it easy to believe him.

He always knew when you needed a distraction from your worries, bringing up mundane things like last night’s baseball game or telling you about the modern music he actually started to like. Sometimes, he’d tell you a story from his life in the 40s. Stories like how his friend Bucky would drag him all over town, trying to find a date for the evening. Or about that time he had to star in an action movie when he just started out as Captain America (which you made a mental note to find later on Youtube). You loved hearing about Steve’s old life, curious about what made him into the man you love today.

Sometimes he’d just entertain your wild thoughts, especially when you’re half asleep. Conversations like how different life would be if dinosaurs never went extinct or if flat earth conspiracists were right. You’d be lying with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist while you mumbled any thoughts that came to mind. He’d listen till he heard your soft snores and he’d give you a gentle kiss on your head before he’d fall asleep too.

Then there would be nights where words would rarely be spoken. A night of soft moans as he took care of your body in ways only he knew how. He’d whisper praises, drawing out moans from you as he hit all the right spots. It was always different and exciting. You never knew what to expect, but he would always be so loving. You’d always stay close, basking in the afterglow.  

After having the comfort of Steve in the night, the times he’s not there feel a lot lonelier than before.

Like now, you’ve got your eyes closed but you’re not sleeping. Your thoughts seem louder than ever and they’re all about Steve. It probably doesn’t help that you decided to wear one of his tee shirts to bed, the faint smell of him making you miss him even more. After he cancelled on you (again) this past weekend, you started to wonder if he even wanted to see you at all.

You want to be mad at him, but how can you be? He’s Captain America! He has a responsibility that he can’t ignore, not even for his girlfriend. Lately, you can’t help but be worried at how many missions he’s been going on. To make matters worse, you’re left in the dark about all of it. He says it’s safer if you don’t know. You just have to trust him and trust that he needs to go.  

But what if he doesn’t actually need to? What if he wants to go so he doesn’t have to see you. Okay, that’s extreme, but it’s a possibility? It seems like he doesn’t even want to talk to you at all sometimes. You’re always the one texting and calling. It’s never really him unless it’s to let you down (again). Maybe you’re just being needy. Were you asking for too much? Are you overreacting? Probably. But it’s normal to be upset about not seeing your boyfriend for weeks, right?

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. You pick up your phone from the nightstand. The clock reads 3:12am. You unlock your phone and open your messages to see the last few texts Steve sent.

Steve ♡: I’m sorry.

You: just be safe

             —

Steve ♡: I’m back.

You: okay

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a good bit, contemplating if you want to bother him so late at night. Before you can overthink it, you hit the button. You turn to lay on your side with the phone against your ear, anxiously waiting for the ringing to stop.

“Hello,” Steve answers, voice deep and filled with sleep. You feel guilty for waking him up, but at the same time feel relief at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you say shyly. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to actually pick up. You were prepared to just leave a voicemail.

“Is something wrong?” he mumbles.

“No, no. There’s nothing wrong… I just…” you can feel the heat rising in your face, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. “I just miss you,” you say quietly, not even sure if he’s heard you.

You can hear the shuffling of sheets.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” he says and it warms your heart for a moment, “and as much as I wanna talk right now, I have to be up in a couple hours for a mission.”

“Oh,” the small smile you had on your face quickly disappears. You had no idea he was leaving again even though he just got back the day before.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay hon?” he says tiredly.

You feel a lump in your throat forming but you push past it, “yeah… yeah, of course.”

“Love you,”

“Love you too,” you practically whisper.

The phone call ends and the tears start to slide down your face. You didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore.

The last call you had with Steve a few days ago left you torn between logic and your emotions. You knew he was just tired, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two. In the past, he never seemed to mind talking to you, even in the odd hours of the morning. You always believed that you guys were so in sync. It seemed like he knew when you needed comfort and would be there to provide it.

You would be able to tell when something was off with Steve and though you would always offer to talk about it, he would brush it off. Thinking back to it, maybe he never really opened up to you for a reason.

You began to question if you are more invested in this relationship than he is. It feels wrong to even think so, considering how sweet and caring he is, especially with you. But everyone has their limits, right? Maybe he’s just gotten tired of you. It’s clear that work is his number one priority right now, maybe he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend anymore. He always makes promises of making it up to you another time, but maybe there will never be another time.

The thought of him leaving completely sends a pang of hurt to your heart.

You: can we talk?

You had sent Steve that text what felt like forever ago, but in reality has only been 20 minutes. You had spent that time repeating in your head what you were going to tell him while you paced back and forth around your living room. You were going to ask for a break. You didn’t want to break up with him completely, no, but you thought that this would be better in the long run. You’re hoping a break will give him the space he needs and then you guys can go back to the way you were. You figured it was better to let him focus on being a hero. You didn’t want to become the clingy girlfriend that he’d eventually resent.

You had no idea how he would react. Maybe he would agree. It’ll be tough, but every couple goes through something like this, right? Sure, it’s a special circumstance with you dating an Avenger, but other people have busy partners. You wonder how they manage a relationship when they don’t see each other so often. Maybe you were giving up too easily? But you’re tired of feeling pushed aside, like you aren’t his priority when he’s at the top of your list. You’re tired of feeling guilty for being upset when he can’t come see you. You’re just tired of feeling like you’re losing him.

Just as you start to doubt your whole plan, your ringtone breaks the silence. You pick up your phone with a shaky hand and tap on the answer button.

“Hello,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the nervous tone of your voice.

“Hey honey, you wanted to talk?”

“Uh, yeah…” you reply, already struggling to keep your voice even.

“Is everything alright?” he’s concerned and you can imagine the look on his face.

“Yeah…yeah,” you lie, “I uh… I just wanted to talk… about us.”

“Listen honey, I’m sorry about last week but it was really-“ he begins to apologize, but you shake your head, not wanting to hear another excuse.

“It’s more than that Steve,” you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “Do you realize it’s almost been a month since we’ve last seen each other?”

There’s a pause before he answers, “…I didn’t know it had been so long.”

“Do you even care?” you ask, voice giving in to the mix of anger and sadness you feel. The tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“Of course I care, you know I do” he defends.

“Do I though?” you question. The rehearsed words you mentally prepared are long gone. “…I’ve been sitting here thinking of what I’m doing wrong because I feel like something’s changed between us.”

“What are you talking about?” he sounds genuinely confused, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Steve… we don’t talk like we used to, I barely get to see you. I miss you all the time.”

“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,“ he acknowledges.

“And I don’t blame you for that,” you clarify.

“I know how important your job is, but… but I’m feeling a little left out here,” your voice cracks at the end. You wipe the few tears that started to fall down your face. “I mean, I feel like I barely know that part of your life. You’re gone most of the time and you never talk to me about it.”

“I can’t, for your safety. We’ve discussed that.”

“Yeah and I thought I could handle it, but you’re giving me nothing here,” you argue. “I wanna be there for you Steve, but it’s hard when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I... I can’t. I want to but it’s better if you don’t know,” he says pleadingly. You want to believe him, but you just can’t seem to let this go.

The silence lingers over the phone.

“Maybe we should take a break,” you eventually say with defeat.

“A break?”

“Maybe we just need some time to sort things out. You can focus on your work and when things get better… we can try again.”

“No, no…” he starts to argue, “that’s not fair.”

“Steve, please…” you beg, “just try to see where I’m coming from. I still love you, I always will. I just think we need this.”

He doesn’t say a word, making you anxious.

“Steve-”

You’re cut off by the phone hanging up. You sit in disbelief, letting the weight of the conversation fall on you.

You spent the rest of the night just curled up on the couch. You keep questioning your decision. In your mind, this was the right thing to do, despite the heartbreak you knew you’d be feeling. But you didn’t think it would hurt as much as it does now.

Steve’s reaction made you rethink the idea of a break. You worry that he thinks you don’t love him anymore when it’s the complete opposite. You did this because you love him. You didn’t want to lose him completely, but it looks like you lost him anyways. Maybe, deep down, a part of you was trying to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

The living room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights outside. The tears have stopped flowing, but the headache lingers. It’s almost 2 in the morning and despite being worn out from crying, you have trouble sleeping. You’re about to get up for a glass of water when you hear a knock on your door.

Your first reaction is to panic, because you weren’t expecting anyone at such a late hour. You mentally run through the self defense moves Steve insisted on teaching you. Slowly, you approach the door, trying to not make any noise.

Knock knock knock.

“It’s me.”

It’s softly spoken, but you hear him loud and clear. You quickly open the door to reveal Steve with a look of sorrow on his face. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“I don’t want a break,” he says hoarsely, breaking you out of your trace.

You all but pounce toward him and wrap your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that reminds you of home. Despite everything that happened over the phone, you feel a flood of relief from finally being in his arms.

You stood in his embrace, relishing the feeling of him being there for a good minute before you pulled away. You meet his eyes, noticing the tears surrounding them and it hurts your heart.

“We should talk,” you say, voice rough from the crying just hours ago.

You’re sitting side by side on your couch. You look at him and can’t believe that he drove all the way to your place in the middle of the night. You can see the worry on his face and you want nothing more than to comfort him, but you hold back because you want an explanation first.

“So..” you start off, “you don’t want a break?”

“Y/N, I know I’ve messed up, but please don’t give up on us,” he says with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to. I thought that’s what you would’ve wanted. I thought…” you shy away from his stare, “maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steve looks at you with guilt, realizing for the first time how much he’s hurt you, “I’m sorry… I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately but I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Then what's been going on?” you ask, looking back at him, determined to know why it took you asking for a break to get him here.

Steve looks down at his hands, visibly nervous. Why? You have no idea.

“Talk to me Steve,” you encourage him. “Please.”

He turns to look at you, taking a breath before saying “I’ve been looking for Bucky.”

You’re immediately confused. Out of all the things you thought of him saying, this was never one of them.

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” you question. You knew of his friend from the stories he would tell you. Bucky was practically a brother to Steve.

“Yes,” he says easily, but it just makes you more confused. The thought of Steve going crazy briefly crosses your mind.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” he explains. You recognize that name from the news. He was a part of the incident that happened in DC.

“What? H-How would that even be possible?” you question, not really being able to wrap your head around it. From what you knew, Bucky died in war back in the 40s.

“HYDRA was using him. They found him after he fell from the train and they brainwashed him for decades until I was able to snap him out of it when we fought in DC,” Steve continues, “After he saved my life, he disappeared.”

The pain in his voice is evident as he talks about his friend. You scoot closer to him and you take his hand into yours, offering him comfort.

“Sam and I have been following any lead we could to find him,” he explains, “I’ve been doing that along with all the other missions I get sent on. That’s why I’ve been gone so much.”  

It finally makes sense to you.

“Oh Steve,” you say, “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.”

“I know honey, I should have…” he squeezes your hand, which you reciprocate.

“HYDRA is evil. I’ve seen how cruel they can be,” he continues. “The thought of them coming anywhere near you kills me,” his voice filled with emotion and his eyes gloss over with tears. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of that headspace…”

He looks away from you, head down, “you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

You reach over with your free hand to touch his face. “Steve,” you turn his head to look at you. His blue eyes shine even in the dim lighting. “Please don’t shut me out. I want to know these things. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to be there for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your eyes beg him to understand you. “And I get it now. Bucky is your friend and I know you’ll find him again someday. Just don’t put all that stress on yourself,” your thumb wipes away a stray tear falling down his face. “I want to help you in any way I can. You can always come back to me.”

He subtly nods and looks at you, faces only a breath apart. “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, like he’s in disbelief.

He closes the distance, lips finally meeting yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as you continue to cradle his face in your palms. You focus on conveying all your love for him into the kiss. You pull away briefly to move on to his lap as he leans back into the couch. His hands naturally fall on your hips as you get impossibly close.

You break the kiss again, “Promise not to leave me again,” you plead, but your tone is much lighter this time. You never wanted to leave his arms again.

He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowing a bit, “I can’t promise that,” you give him a sad smile, already knowing that. His hand leaves your hip to push a stray hair behind your ear, “but I can promise that I will talk to you more and show you how much you mean to me more often. ”

You genuinely smile at that.

“This is important to me,” he says, pulling you closer, emphasizing his words, “you’re important to me.”

“I love you”

“I love you too,”

You lean back in to kiss him again, smiling in between because you’re happy to have your Steve back. And you know things will get better from here. There’s still going to be some tough nights when you miss him and he can’t be there, but you know he’ll be missing you just as much. You won’t have to doubt his love for you again.

You pull away once more, “Remember how you said, you’d make it up to me?” you question with a mischievous look in your eye.

“Yeah,” he says looking at you expectantly.

You simply raise your eyebrows and smirk at him. He catches on and mouths an “oh”.

You’re lifted from the couch so you latch onto Steve’s shoulders, giggling loudly at the sudden movement. He carries you into your bedroom, where he definitely made up for lost time.

You slept much easier that night.

hope you enjoyed reading! 🤍 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!! let me know if you liked it :) 

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 57

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,388

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE 

Author’s Note: We’re interrupting the emotions and angst for a healthy dose of smut in this one. 

A Wonderfully Well-F*cked Morning

You drifted to consciousness on a wave of pleasure, the sensations happening below your waist causing you to automatically arch your back and reach down. When your fingers came in contact with thick, soft hair at the same time that a wet tongue hit your clit, your brain finally decided to come online. Eyes opening in surprise, you looked down and found the breathtaking visual of Negan’s gorgeous face buried between your thighs.

Holy shit, what a way to start the day. 

Glancing up, his mouth curled in a soul-stealing grin at the sight of you awake and watching. His “mornin’ doll” was spoken directly to your soaked cunt, the rumbled vibration of the words making you give a small moan and open your thighs wider, so he could do as he wished.

And, apparently, what he wished was to drive you absolutely mad with desire. The distant and withdrawn Negan of last night was gone, and in his place was the playful and passionate man before you. He teased with soft kisses along the crease at the top of your thigh and lazy laps of his tongue that just barely grazed where you needed them. When you tried to lift your hips in search of more friction, his large hands pinned them to the mattress. 

It wasn’t long before you had a deathgrip on his hair, thighs trembling, and even the muscles in your stomach starting to quiver. And yet still he continued, the devilish gleam in his eyes when he glanced up at you while gently sucking your clit almost enough to send you over the edge, until he backed off and went back to nipping at your inner thighs instead. 

You were just about to beg, plead, and promise whatever he wanted, including your soul, when a muffled knocking sound broke through the top layer of hazy desire shrouding you. Negan ignored the noise, continuing with his delicious torture so that you almost instantly forgot the sound had ever happened. But then it came again a few seconds later, this time loud and sharp...and right outside the bedroom door. 

Letting go of his hair and jolting up onto your elbows, you looked down at Negan with wide eyes. He had finally lifted his head from your pussy, the sight of his lips glistening with your wetness causing a soft moan to escape that you prayed whoever was at the door didn’t hear. 

“Fucking leave!” he yelled in that no-nonsense tone that both terrified and yet also made an extra trickle of wetness run down your thigh. 

The voice that responded was muffled through the door, but still unmistakably Simon. “Sorry, boss, but there’s a situation that needs your urgent attention in meeting room C.” 

Cursing harshly, Negan dropped his forehead to your lower stomach for a few seconds before lifting his head and yelling back, “I’ll fucking be there in 5!”

You stared in the direction of the office and listened for a few seconds until the unmistakable sound of Simon banging the door closed sounded (perhaps a bit louder than needed, as if he was letting you know that he was gone). You turned back to Negan, who now had a devious smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

Giving a doubtful expression, you said, “Only five minutes?” 

“Oh, doll,” he chuckled, head ducking down so the rest was muffled against your wet flesh. “That’s plenty of time.”

It was then that you realized just how much he had been toying with you before, as his demeanor instantly changed from playful to intense, and he set to work on your cunt. He knew just where to nip and lick, and when he latched onto your clit and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, you shot off like a rocket, coming in less than a minute from when Simon had left. 

Still panting and sprawled across the mattress, you watched dazedly as he got up and went to his armoire for clothes to get dressed. He winced when tucking his erection into the boxer briefs and dark grey pants, and the bulge made your mouth water.

“What about you?” you asked with a nod in his cock’s direction. 

Pulling on his boots, he then straightened and trailed desire-bright eyes over your sated form spread out on his bed. “I thought I already made that clear, doll,” he quipped.

Unsure if it was the post-orgasm haze making you so dense or if he was purposely being vague, you asked, “What’s that?”

Walking around the side of the bed fully dressed, while you lay totally naked with thighs still spread and naked chest heaving, he ran a warm, calloused hand down over your throat and the tips of your breasts before answering. 

“That this relationship is about more than me getting my fucking rocks off.”

His hand moved lower, between your thighs, and he watched as if mesmerized at how you shuddered and arched into the feel of his touch on your still-sensitive flesh. “However, that being said-” he backed up a step and pointed at you with a stern look on his face, “-don’t fucking move from that bed until I get back.” 

He then tucked his tongue into his cheek, gave a playful wink, and was gone. Staring up at the ceiling, you figured this was one order you’d gladly follow, seeing as how your muscles wouldn’t be able to function properly enough to help you stand, anyways. It wasn’t until a couple minutes after he was gone that you sat straight up on the bed at the remembrance of his earlier words. 

He had called it a relationship!

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Forty-five minutes later and you, unsurprisingly, were in fact not able to follow his order, after all. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because, well, it was you we were talking about here, and when did you ever listen? 

You had tried though, really you had. After Negan left, and your breathing and heart rate had returned to normal, you sat up against the headboard to wait. Your eyes landed on a book that was open facedown on his bedside table, and the parallel to your own reading habits made you smile. Picking it up, you saw that it was some sort of psychological thriller. Making a note of what page it had been opened to, you huddled down into the plush mattress, the soft black headboard at your back, and started reading from the beginning. 

However, when the black and grey wall clock near the door ticked by almost an hour that he had been gone, you put the book down and sighed in annoyance. Whatever the emergency meeting had been about, it looked as though it might take a while, and you didn’t enjoy the thought of sitting here all morning and afternoon waiting, as if at his beck and call. Your brain also unhelpfully threw out the reminder of your previous plan not to have sex with Negan until a serious conversation was had about that damned padlocked box of unanswered questions. The subconscious, exasperated with the brain pulling this bullshit so early in the morning, yelled at it to please shut the hell up. 

Fuck it, you can at least freshen up a bit before he gets back, you thought while tossing off the sheet and standing from the bed. Stretching pleasantly sore muscles, you wandered over to the large armoire and tugged open one of the drawers. Smiling at how neatly the clothes inside were folded, you selected a moss green shirt and pulled it over your head. It was much baggier than his usual style, and you had never seen him wear it before, making you wonder if he ever got a chance to take off his leader armor and just sit around relaxing the day away in baggy sweats with a good book. Probably not, seeing as how he couldn’t even enjoy a perfectly delightful you-flavored breakfast without being interrupted. 

Heading into the bathroom to relieve your bladder and then wash your hands and face, you looked in the large mirror. Finger-combing hair that had seen better days, you then opened up some of the drawers under the sink that you hadn’t checked yet, mostly out of nosey curiosity. Finding one at the bottom that was stocked full of extra bars of soap, toothpaste, and still-packaged toothbrushes, you let out a tiny whoop of joy. Jackpot!

Opening a green and white toothbrush, you grabbed the already opened toothpaste that was on the countertop and squeezed a dollop onto the brush. Giving a sigh of happiness at the clean, minty taste, you weren’t even worried about Negan being upset you had stolen one of his unopened brushes. Especially since you’d have fresh breath when he crawled back in the bed with you and-

That fantasy died a quick death when the reflection of the man himself stepped into view while you were mid-brush. Locking eyes with him in the mirror, you saw a flicker of something in his expression as he took you in, standing there in his shirt and brushing your teeth with his personal supplies. 

“I thought I told you to be in the fucking bed when I got back,” he said, but his voice didn’t have the extra little growl that signified he was truly pissed. In fact, he almost sounded amused. 

Before you could even remove the toothbrush to respond, he stepped up behind you so that his front was pressed into your back. “Nevermind, doll,” he drawled while still holding your gaze in the mirror. “This’ll work too.”

You almost choked on toothpaste from gasping at the feel of his large, rough hands running up under the hem of the shirt and over your bare hips. Quickly leaning down to spit out the paste into the sink, you turned on the water and used a cupped hand to rinse out your mouth as he continued rubbing his palms along your torso and down over the outside of your thighs. When you put the toothbrush down and straightened, his mouth immediately attacked the back of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly. His hands moved further up under the shirt to cup your breasts, and his deft fingers pinched and twisted sensitive nipples at the same time that he ground his hips against your bare ass, letting you feel the ridge of his erection through the rough fabric of the pants.

You moaned softly and pressed back into him, almost overwhelmed by how quickly he had barged in and taken control of your body’s reaction. Any thoughts of self-doubt or questions of where you stood with him temporarily flew out the window in the face of the onslaught of intense and thorough possession he was directing your way. 

Unlike when you first woke up this morning, no part of him was teasing or going slow this time around. He quickly pulled the baggy shirt up over your head, and the sight of you totally bare made a groan punch from his chest. 

He whipped his own shirt and pants off in a quick flurry of movement before leaning in so that his warm chest was pressed into your back as he opened one of the drawers at your hip and pulled out a condom. 

Wasting no time, he opened it and rolled it down the swollen cock pressing into the small of your back. When he bent his knees to line up with your entrance, you assisted by hiking a knee up on the edge of the countertop, presenting yourself to him in a way that made him pause for a moment, as if in awe, before plunging inside you with a fierce thrust and strangled growl against the back of your neck. 

You looked up and were instantly transfixed by the sight in the mirror. Negan’s tattooed, leanly muscled form towered over yours, his rough edges and possessive thrusts juxtaposed against your softer curves and arching form. 

You watched his reflection as he gripped your hips and looked down between your bodies to watch himself fuck you, the sight making you moan and clench around his cock. His gaze lifted, amber eyes locking on yours in the mirror. 

One of his hands left your hip, trailing hungrily around the front of your body and up over your stomach and breasts before wrapping long fingers around the front of your throat. The grip was light, but the ruthless ownership behind both it and his pumping hips made your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. 

He leaned in over you, breath coming in hot strikes against the side of your throat. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl? Like being all. Fucking. Mine.”

The last words were each punctuated by a harsh thrust, making you cry out and open lust-filled eyes. His face was there beside your own, jaw clenched as he watched your reflection in the mirror with a fierce, almost pained expression. He let out a little snarl before turning his mouth to nip at the curve of your shoulder, and that combined with his grip at your throat and heavy, thick cock fucking you against the counter all combined to throw you into an orgasm without warning. He groaned as you shuddered and clenched in his hold, his gravel over sandpaper voice in your ear. 

“Yes, milk my fucking cock.”

Coming down off the wave of pleasure, you realized that his pace hadn’t slowed down, that he hadn’t finished yet. You lowered the leg propped up on the counter, needing both feet braced against the cool, tiled floor to keep your shaky body steady. 

Your gaze dropped, taking in the reflection of what was happening between your thighs. Both his cock and the inside of your thighs glistened with a coating of your release, and he felt even bigger inside of you, now that your walls were a little swollen and tender from both the friction of his cock and your recent orgasm. Right when his movements became almost too overwhelming against your oversensitized cunt, and you were about to ask for a break, he paused his thrusts and removed the hand from around your throat. 

Your thought that he was granting you a reprieve was instantly proven wrong when he gave a growled warning of, “Brace your arms on the sink,” right before his forearms hooked down under both your knees and lifted your entire lower body off the ground. Since the action pushed you forward, your body had no choice but to do as he said, forearms holding the weight of your upper body against the surface of the sink while your lower half hung suspended at the perfect height for his cock. 

He resumed his quick pace, fucking into you relentlessly. And, surprisingly, instead of becoming too much, the sensations pulled back from borderline painful and started to feel pleasurable again. Very pleasurable. 

Your whimper caused him to give a low moan in response, and his voice came through gritted teeth. “That’s it, doll. Fucking come for me again.” 

Trying to find your voice, you wanted to say that you weren’t sure if that was possible, that coming again so soon wasn’t likely. Instead, the words choked in your throat when he bent down and licked up your spine before sucking roughly on the skin of your back. He then ground his cock into you so hard that your pelvis pushed against the edge of the counter, the hard surface rubbing over your clit in exactly the right way needed to send your body spasming into a second orgasm.

You lost yourself in pleasure that had no beginning and no end, just endless heavy waves of bliss. Dimly, you heard him give a groan of completion as he gave a few sharp, hard thrusts, and then his body went still. He allowed your legs to lower to the tiled floor, and thank god for being braced on the countertop, otherwise you would’ve crumpled in a quivery heap at his feet. 

You took in the reflection of both you and Negan’s sex-dazed expressions, skin flushed and dewy with sweat despite the cool bathroom. A satisfied smile curved his lips, and you watched in the mirror as he bent down and kissed the curve where your neck met shoulder, the scratch of his beard rising goosebumps to the already sensitive flesh. He hummed happily against your skin, and you wished that the two of you could stay in this intimate bubble forever. That no outside intruders or internal thoughts could stand in the way of feeling like this with him every single day. 

As if he were thinking something similar, he ran a warm hand down over the curve of your hip and said in a sexy, husky voice, “Now that is a perfect fucking way to finish off the morning.” 

Unable to help a dreamy smile in return, you were finally able to fully stand up from the counter without fear of your legs giving out. Turning in his hold, you twined arms up around his neck and tugged him down for a proper kiss involving lips and tongues and even a hint of teeth. 

You pulled away after a few long moments, and offered, “What are your plans for today?”

Biting his lip and giving one of his signature cheeky grins, he replied, “I have to go over some new outpost security measures with Simon this afternoon. However…” his hands cupped your ass and kneaded possessively, “my evening is all fucking yours.”

Lord, but you liked the sound of that. Standing on tiptoe and placing another, softer kiss to his lips, you suggested, “How about I bring us dinner around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with one last squeeze of his hands before he stepped away to dispose of the condom and gather both your clothes off the tiles. 

The men had brought back some freshly butchered deer meat from the supply run, and Ben had been excited to try making stew with both it and vegetables from the garden. Thinking of Ben was also a reminder that you had promised to hang out with him today. You were very curious to hear details about what was going on with him and Simon, not to mention needing a friend to talk through some of your own worries regarding Negan.

Pulling the baggy green shirt back on, you preceded him into the bedroom and grabbed your jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor last night. You didn’t want to return his shirt, so tucked it into the jeans to hide the obviously ill-fitting length of it before pulling on your sneakers. Turning, you found an also fully-dressed Negan watching you. His gaze took in the outfit with an expression that was difficult to decipher, but seemed somewhere between appreciative and smug at the sight of you in his shirt. 

Struggling not to roll your eyes or make a comment about “males and their strange possessiveness”, you walked out of the bedroom with him following behind. Stopping at the closed office door, you turned and looked up at him, unable to resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers down over his bearded cheek. He bent and gave you one final kiss in return, then opened the door and watched you leave. 

You weren’t able to contain the happy grin tipping up the corners of your mouth. Not even the sudden appearance of the brain, who was dragging the padlocked box of questions, could dim your mood. The subconscious strode happily at your side, but as the brain fell more and more behind, struggling to keep up with the heavy metal box, it turned with a sigh and went back to help. 

I know. I know! We’ll have a conversation with him tonight; open up the box and air out some of those unanswered questions. But for right now, we’re going to bask in the afterglow of such a wonderfully well-fucked morning. 

The brain and subconscious didn’t argue, just huffed and puffed as they worked together to finally pick the box up off the ground. Balancing the heavy weight between them, they gave each other exasperated looks, then hurried down the hall after you.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

#negan #twd #negan smut #negan fanfics #negan fanfiction #irresistible danger #ash writes #the walking dead #twd negan #negan's thirst squad #negan x you #negan slow burn #slow burn #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #fanfic #fanfiction

[separatist-apologist]

Listen…There’s so so little HelionxLoA smut out there🤧🤧 so naturally I came to the Queen of Vanserra/Spellcleaver writing to request literally anything you want to write for them, I just need content about them cause all we have is CRUMBS😭🤧

love your writing boo have a wonderful day💕

Look, if you think you can show up in my ask box demanding Helion content you are absolutely right. Honestly, more of this please. We could put Helion in ALL KINDS of positions, I know he'd be up for it.

Anyway, this is NSFW, 18+, edited with my hands tied behind my back.

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Helion pulled himself out of the gleaming pool of salt water, blinded by the overhead sun. Meeting, meetings, meetings, he thought despondently, wrapping a towel around his waist. What good was being the High Lord if your time still wasn’t your own? Helion wanted to float in sunlight until his skin burned. He wanted to float until he felt nothing but oblivion, until he was one with the world.

Instead he’d sit at his desk and a stack of papers while emissary’s for whatever boring High Lord wanted to talk to him droned on and on about trade routes and taxes. Helion had hoped to never be High Lord, had hoped the magic might skip him entirely and then Amarantha, the cunt, fucked that all up.

Not that Helion didn’t still indulge, of course. Just not as often as he would have liked.

His bare feet smacked against the marble, still slippery from the water and he smirked at a gentleman who glanced at the towel hanging from his hips. He knew what they were wondering. What was beneath? Nothing, he thought with relish.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Helion told one of his advisors as he made his way towards his bedroom. “Who is waiting?”

“An emissary from Autumn, High Lord.”

Helion rolled his eyes. “Give me an hour, then,” he replied with a relish. It hardly punished Beron, given he’d sent one of his simpering, spineless courtiers in his stead and yet Helion still could not help but be petty. Let the courtier go back to Autumn and complain about Helion’s lack of time for them. Perhaps one day Beron would take the hint.

He flung open his bedroom door with a relish, intending to bathe and, afterwards, take a nap. Maybe eat after that, read a few chapters of his book and then, if he felt like it, hear out whatever Beron wanted.

Helion froze in place, eyes huge, hand still on the doorknob behind him. The Lady of Autumn, his lady, Amera, stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a flimsy, cotton shift that did absolutely nothingto hide her body from him.

This is a dream, his mind shouted. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d imagined her standing in his bedroom with those russet eyes filled with wanting. He reached for his side and pinched hard, waiting to see her dissolve into nothingness.

She took a step forward. “You’re not imagining things,” she told him, her voice somehow prettier than he remembered. He rubbed his jaw; aware he must look half insane standing as he was. Helion, unable to put together words, at least managed to lock the door behind him. Had he said an hour? Autumn’s courtier would go home unanswered.

“How?” He asked, fisting his hands at his sides. His eyes drifted towards her pert breasts, the rosy nipples stark against the near transparent fabric.

Her eyes sparked with amusement. “You haven’t heard?”

Helion’s knees began to shake as a smile spread across her beautiful face. “Eris is High Lord, now.”

“How?”

Mischief replaced her amusement. “How, indeed.”

“So you’re…” He couldn’t get the word out, couldn’t bring himself to say it only to be rebuffed. Centuries of waiting, of wanting, of yearning and now Helion needed her to say it.

“Yours?” She supplied. Finally, his body worked and Helion, unable to stand it a moment longer, surged towards his lady and yanked her into his arms. He meant to kiss her but his legs gave way and Helion knelt before her instead, hugging her middle.

“Stay,” he begged like he’d done many, many times before. She carded her fingers through his wet, tangled hair. “Please stay.”

“For how long?” She responded and Helion couldn’t believe it was real. It wasn’t really happening. He was dehydrated, still floating in the pool, fantasizing like he so often did. He squeezed her body, his hands taking on a life of their own as they began to slide the long shift up her thin legs.

“Forever,” he choked, catching the scent of her arousal before he hand the shift anywhere close to her cunt. She chucked over him, as though the scene unfolding amused her.

“Is that all?” She asked him and Helion growled, pressing his mouth against her thigh.

“No,” he replied, ripping the fabric bunched in his hands. She gasped but Helion would shred everything she brought from Autumn, every article of clothing, every pretty memento and, in time, every bad memory. He stood, ripping his way up to the neckline while she looked up at him with clear eyes. He’d forgotten how little she was in comparison and the urge to protect her flared to life.

She slid the sleeves of the now ruined undergarment to the floor, never breaking eye contact. “Is it as you remember?” She asked him, pressing a hand to his hard chest. He swallowed hard because no, she wasn’t as he remembered. Too thin, too pale…he could fix that.

“Better,” he said instead, sucking air in sharply when she pulled the knot out of his towel, letting the fabric drop to the floor. She cocked her head to the side, red curls spilling down her back. A smile curved over her pretty, red lips and Helion almost let her sink to her knees in front of him.

“No,” he all but snarled, catching her by the elbows. “Absolutely not.”

She frowned, opening her mouth to protest and while Helion would have liked nothing more than to feel her mouth around him again, he would have her body, or he would have nothing at all. He scooped her up, reveling in the feel of her bare skin against his own and swallowed any protest she might have offered with his lips. He felt fevered, hungry, and desperate for the female he spread delicately across his bed of white and gold.

He stopped his kissing just long enough to position himself on the bed, half covering her body with his own. She tasted exactly as he remembered, like roasted chestnuts and bright, sun washed apples and Helion was lost. He ran a broad hand up her thigh and over her stomach, over and over, reveling in the feel of her soft skin beneath his calloused hands.

Helion’s cock ached even before she reached between them and began to stroke. He groaned against her cheek, his eyes rolling back into his skull. Had anything ever felt so good? “Let me touch you,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

“I want to touch you,” he replied, settling a knee between her legs as he cradled her face in his hand. “I want to taste you.”

She sighed sweetly, shaking her head back and forth as though the whole thing were infinitely funny and not something Helion had been thinking about for practically his entire life. Three centuries. That’s how long it had been since he’d last touched her, tasted her…really spoke to her. He’d heard her offer him forever, but Helion couldn’t quite believe it. Their time was always numbered, always stolen in between hiding from Beron and he’d learned to take what he could before she vanished again.

He needed her to feel good, to think about his skin against hers, his mouth, his everything. He needed her to miss him the way he missed her.

“Why not both?” She asked a moment before he caught one of her rosy nipples between his teeth, breathing hot air against her breast as he teased gently. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hips bucked gently, rubbing against his thigh. The radiating heat was enough to almost convince Helion to abandon his plan of slow seduction in favor of rough, near animalistic fucking. Next time, he swore, not convinced there would be a next time. He needed to hear her scream his name so loud Rhysand and Thesan would hear over the border.

Down, down, down, he slid, his tongue trailing a path over her pale, freckled skin. He parted her thighs as her breath caught overhead and Helion thought he might cry at the sight of her, spread out like his favorite meal. Mine, you are mine—

He brushed his thumb over her wet, pink opening, delighted when her whole body seemed to quiver at the touch. He ground himself into the mattress in an attempt to alleviate the ache building but rationally, the only thing that would satisfy him was her clenched around him.

“Helion,” she gasped overhead, the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life. He wanted to hear her say it again. He took his thumb and rubbed an excruciatingly slow circle over her quivering clit as he watched over. Her back arched in response, her eyes flying open.

“Helion, please,” she begged this time. Not enough, he thought to himself, circling again, a smile curved over his lips.

She screamed softly with frustration, her eyes locked with his. Beautiful, so fucking beautiful—

“Helion!”

That was good, he decided, in part because he was also desperately wanted to taste the arousal he could smell. He dropped his head and licked, replacing his finger as Amera fisted her hand in his hair.

“Better,” she half-gasped. “Please don’t stop.”

As if he could. He’d just begun besides, intoxicated off the sweet, musky taste of her arousal. Wet, he thought, his tongue sliding back down her cunt towards the opening he very much planned to be in just as soon as she came in his mouth. She was so damn wet it was driving him insane.

He couldn’t resist sliding his tongue into her body, his nose rubbing against her clit, to fuck her with his mouth. She writhed overtop him, her slick coating his face in the most satisfying way. To Helion, he felt the wet like a brand upon his skin, a warning to any other who might come near him.

Yours, I’m yours—

Back to her clit, his tongue skilled, his fingers parting her so he could have more, all of her. Helion was greedy and always had been. He hated the thought of sharing, of only getting the pieces she could give. Everything was available to him now.

He wanted it all.

“Helion,” she gasped again, her thighs clenching around his face. Helion smiled, his mouth moving faster, methodically, exactly the way he remembered. Her hands tightened in his hair, pulling almost painfully to hold him exactly where he was. Her hips bowed off the bed the same moment a scream ripped through the pulsating silence, his name mingled somewhere between. He didn’t stop, riding her through and, perhaps, hopeful she’d let him keep going.

She yanked hard, demanding him to come back to her. He’d intended to slide himself right in, anticipation warm in his stomach but it was clear Amera had other thoughts. She sat up quickly, her eyes liquid flame, and pushed him to the bed before he could do little more than exhale.

She straddled him without a hint of hesitation, positioning the head of his cock over her dripping pussy. Helion cried out when she sank down quickly, taking every inch of him all at once. His eyes snapped open as she began to rock, her breasts bouncing in his line of view.

He was tense, taut with burning desire. It was all too much and Helion knew he wasn’t going to be able to drag it out the way he’d wanted to. She was so tight it felt like a second skin. It was all Helion could do but hold her hips, his fingers grazing the swell of her ass.

She dug her nails into his chest hard enough she was close to drawing blood. She remembered, he thought in a daze. He liked that edge of pain, the feral part of fucking that left gouges in his skin as a reminder of what they’d done. He couldn’t bring himself to bruise her skin, not when he knew she’d spent centuries hiding them. She could hurt him however she liked but Helion could not hurt her at all.

“Come for me,” he begged, so close he was hanging by a thread. He was counting in his head, trying to prevent himself from spilling though electricity hummed through his veins, urging him to let go and give in to the building heat that had settled in his sac. “Please, Amera—”

She came again, the walls of her cunt fluttering around him with intensity. He lost his control, roaring so loud he knew the Autumn emissary knew why he was waiting. His muscles locked for a moment as release poured out of him, his warm come spilling from her pussy back down his shaft to pool on the sheets below them.

He reached for her, still sheathed within her, and kissed her roughly, desperately. This had always been the part where she left him and Helion couldn’t help his terror. Don’t leave me, he begged silently. Stay.

She caressed his face, smiling as she looked down at his face. “You shouldn’t keep Eris waiting.”

“Let him,” Helion replied, his voice hoarse. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“I’m not leaving,” she promised but Helion crushed her to his chest all the same.

Forever wasn’t long enough.

#helion #helion x loa #helion x lady of autumn #hot sun dad #hot pumpkin mom #honestly this is what helion deserves #give him a happy ending i s2g #acotar #day court #helion defense squad #spell-cleavers is this your ask? #you don't have to be anon #i would do anything for you

[stylesberries]

Rainbow Cardigan

Summary: Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

Genre(s): fluff, a sexual innuendo

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): mentions of sexual intercourse.

Harry’s sense of style is one of the main things that make people around automatically drowns to him. High waisted flares, custom Gucci suits and newsboy caps - Harry in a nutshell.

His style is so distinctive, that even if his face and tattoos were covered, people around would still recognize him just by looking at his outfit.

You, of course, are one of the many fans of Harry’s style. Being his girlfriend had its benefits. Getting to steal his clothes was, obviously, on top of the list.

“Sweetheart!” Harry calls out for you from the bedroom.

You got up from your place in the living room, following your boyfriend’s voice. You knew that if he just wanted to tell you something, he would’ve texted. He clearly needs you to come up to him, so that’s exactly what you do.

Going up the stairs, you kept thinking about who could be the killer in the new detective series episode you’ve been watching.

When you reached your bedroom, your eyes trailed right to your worrying boyfriend, who was walking in circles around the room with his brows furrowed and in deep thought.

“Love, is everything okay? You seem upset.” You gently started.

He really looked frustrated, and you had no idea what was the reason behind it. He would always take every hardship light-heartedly, knowing that everything can be solved and everything can be fixed, and if that’s not the case, he would say, “Well, that’s what life’s about, isn’t it? It can’t always be easy. That’s the beauty of it.” Your mind started walking in circles just like your distraught boyfriend, thinking about anything that could’ve caused him to react this way.

“Y/N, I think I lost m’rainbow cardigan.”

Then it hit you. He really loved that cardigan. It wasn’t just adorable, warm and cozy. He wore it for your first date, and being someone who imbues everything with meaning and gets emotionally attached to things, his reaction wasn’t surprising to you.

“My dear, I’m sure we will find it. Come on. I’ll help you lo-”He cut you off full of sadness and frustration.

“I’ve already looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I’ve looked in every room, on every shelf. I looked under every couch, just in case. I even checked the stove. Like, come on, it could never be there, but I still looked! I don’t know what t’do. I always take it along wherever I go. If I am here and it’s not - I lost it. I fucking lost it. Y/N, what do I do? Where else could I look?” He was full-on bawling now. You couldn’t help but cut the distance separating you short and hug him.

“Don’t worry, Har. We will find it. I know how much it means to you. We’ll find it.” You kept repeating it. Although, your voice was muffled by his hair, he caught every word leaving your mouth.

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

“When did you last see it, baby? Do you remember?” You carefully asked, trying your best not to push him even more. Judging by his appearance, you knew that he could easily beat himself up for losing the cardigan to a point of having an anxiety attack, and that was the last thing you wanted right now.

You watched him slowly breathe air in and out, trying to slow his heart rate down.

“I haven’t seen it for over a week. The last time I’ve seen it was at the studio, I think. I put it on t’go there. It was cold that day.” He explained.

You remembered exactly what day he was talking about. He went to the studio early and you missed him a lot, so when he came back home you jumped on him, which later on led to a heated make out session. The thing was that you didn’t remember taking the cardigan off of him that day.

“Har.” You tried to be as gentle as you possibly could, but you knew that there wasn’t anything that could make him feel better about losing something so dear to him.

“Yeah?” He took a step back and looked at your saddened face.

“I’m afraid you came home without the cardigan.”

After having your crying-your-eyes-out-because-of-a-piece-of-clothing session, you were determined to find the cardigan. Knowing that Harry just went to the studio and back that day, you did the same. Harry asked everyone working at the studio if they’ve seen the cardigan, and with every new person your hope withered more and more. As you asked more people and tried to track the cardigan down, you realized that it was probably lost on a bench he sat on by the studio, to drink his morning coffee. That meant that you’ll never see it again. Understanding the hopelessness of the situation, Harry gave up looking.

Seeing your Harry walking around the house completely destroyed by the situation, you couldn’t help, but think about a way to make him feel better.

He would skip his morning runs to sulk in the bed, cuddled up in the blankets with his feet tangled with yours. Harry was never one to skip any part of his daily routine, so you understood how attached he was to the lost cardigan.

One night, after you both finished your dinner and went to watch some rom-com in the living room, your grandmother called. You apologized to Harry and answered the call.

As you gave her an update on your life these days, Harry cuddled closed into your side and let his eyes close.

Your grandmother asked you about everything, starting from what you had for breakfast to how your university project was going.

In couple of minutes Harry started lightly snoring into your ear. Next thing you know she’s telling you about the new blanket that she knitted.

Then an idea came to your mind. You’ll knit him a new cardigan.

Next day was spent shopping for yarn and needles and watching knitting tutorials. The fact that Harry was out in the studio made it even easier for you to bring your ideas to life.

In the beginning you found it a little hard, but with a little motivation you knitted a couple of colorful squares, just like the ones in Harry’s precious cardigan.

The image of the cardigan mostly came from your head, but whenever you needed a reference you could type “Harry Styles Rainbow Cardigan” into Google and freshen the memories.

It took you some time to get the cardigan together, knitting every little square with the other, making sure everything is as neat as possible.

You felt bad for lying to your sweetheart, but you had to admit - it was fun running around hiding your surprise from him.

When the cardigan was ready, you took a look at your creation.

Although, it wasn’t the same as the one you both had so many memories with, it was made with love, coming straight from your heart.

You finished the last touches at about 7 o’clock, and Harry was supposed to come home a bit later today due to a meeting with the management. You waited for him until late evening and found a box to put your little creation into.

After folding the wrapping paper around the box and tying a bow from the ends of the yellow ribbon, that was now wrapped around the sides of the box, you laid down in your bed and picked up an unread book to finally finish it.

In an hour or so your exhausted boyfriend stepped into the house. You could head his steps coming from outside of the bedroom. By the time he came back home, the book found its way back on the side table, as you wrapped the blanket around yourself to mimic the warmth of missing Harry.

Harry walked into the room slowly, making sure he doesn’t step on certain creaking planks in the floor, not to wake you up. He carefully undressed himself and folded the corner of the blanket to get under it. As he carefully positioned himself next to you, you turned around, making sure not to take him by surprise and scare the living shit out of him.

“You’re so late, love. Did something happen?” You asked, hoping that everything was okay with the upcoming tour. Your mind didn’t view anything else as a possibility because you trusted him completely. You knew you had nothing to worry about, as he proved his loyalty to you enough for you not to have any doubts about it.

“Jeff kept me a bit late, m’precious. We were going through the tour schedule. I’m sorry I made y’worry, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss on your temple. You let him shower you with more and more kisses, before you remembered the box you hid in the closet. You eyes abruptly opened and Harry caught the look of realization on your face.

“What happened, bean? Not in the mood?” He made sure to ask you.

You got up from the bed, pushing his hands off of you, and walked right to the closet.

“Baby? Is everything alright?” Harry was confused over the way you were acting.

You left his questions unanswered and grabbed the box, after opening the doors of the closet looking for it. You walked back up to the bed, but now from Harry’s side. He seemed completely oblivious of what was coming next and, obviously, awaited for an explanation.

“It’s a present. For you.” You now let yourself smile at him, after putting on a show to freak him out. You let out a laugh after seeing Harry look insulted by the way you played with his feelings.

“You’re a meanie. That’s not cute. Was gonna make love to you just now, but I am no longer going to do so.” Harry ended the dramatically long sentence with a theatrical frown.

Despite the little show he put on for you, he couldn’t help but keep looking at the box, laying in front of him.

“What’s that?” He curiously asked.

“Open and see for yourself.” You moved closer to him, with only the box separating you.

Harry carefully unwrapped the bow, making sure he doesn’t rip the paper you carefully wrapped. Something so small, almost unnoticeable, but another thing you loved about this man. There was love in every little gesture and move of his. He could’ve just torn the paper and the ribbon off, acting on his curiosity, but he didn’t. He knew you took time to make it look pretty for him, and he wouldn’t ruin your creation, even if it’s just wrapping paper.

When Harry got to opening the box, he looked up at you, as if asking for your permission. You nodded, smile grazing your face.

As the lid came off the box and the bright colors of the carefully knitted cardigan started gleaming from the light, coming from the lamp on the bedside table, Harry’s facial expression turned from curiosity to utter shock. Noticing his surprise, you chose to speak up.

“I made it myself. I knew how heartbroken you were after losing that cardigan, so I thought - maybe I could knit it for you. I know it’s not perfect, but it would make me very happy if you kept it.” You nervously blabbered, thinking that he didn’t seem as happy as you thought he would be.

“You knitted it yourself?” He looked up at you in shock with tearful eyes, as his hands finally let themself touch the buttons of the item.

“I did. I watched tutorials on YouTube. Thanks to those, I learned how to knit.” You joked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

“You learned how to knit to make this for me?” His voice turned raspy, as it always did when he got emotional and he looked like he desperately needed a hug.

So that’s what you gave him.

“Come here, my love. Please don’t cry. I didn’t knit it to make you sad. I wanted to make you happy.” You cooed into his ear.

Harry held onto you with such need and desperation, that you haven’t seen him show before. He squeezed you closer, his hands still keeping hold of the knitted piece.

“You made me so happy. You make me so fucking happy.”

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #calm #jw anderson #cardigan

[honeyju]

home run; lee minho

The four times you try to ask Lee Minho to the winter formal, and the one time he asks you. 

genres: fluff, friends to lovers au, high school au, sports au (baseball player minho!!)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: merry christmas!! this is a christmas collab that i’m doing with my friend alice @jjacob​ in which we write for each other’s ult biases! (mine is juyeon, so if you’re interested in the boyz, i recommend reading her story here, especially since our storylines are a bit connected!) i had a lot of fun learning more about minho during the writing process, and i hope this story represents him well <333

TRY ONE: KEEP IT SIMPLE. 

If there’s anyone in the world who knows Lee Minho better than you do, it’s Lee Juyeon. 

The two of them have been joined by the hip for as long as you can remember, and if Minho is the relentless tease, spirited and carefree, Juyeon is the gentle thinker, all sweet smiles and wise words. So that’s how you end up frantically dialing his number at nearly one in the morning, too panicked to consider the possibility of him being asleep. You wait with bated breath as the phone rings once, twice, three times before Juyeon picks up the phone, his breathy laugh greeting you instantly. 

“I was waiting for this.”

Juyeon’s words cause you to let out a small noise of surprise, and his chuckle sounds in your ear, a little choppy and distant-sounding due to the poor connection, but bright nevertheless.

“What do you mean you were waiting for this?”

“Silly girl,” Juyeon says, and you can tell he’s grinning despite not being able to see him. “Don’t think I didn’t see you look at him when they announced the dance this morning.”

Your face turns red as you recall the mention of the winter formal during the school announcements and the way your head had immediately turned to Minho’s. You were certain that no one else had noticed the longing upon your face when you looked towards your close friend, but hearing Juyeon now leaves you unsure. 

“Was I that obvious?” You groan, burying your face in your hands out of embarrassment. 

“I wouldn’t worry that much, it wasn’t too apparent,” Juyeon assures you, and yet the spark of doubt in your mind still lingers. 

“You think he knows?” You question as you run your fingers through your hair. 

“That you like him? I don’t think he’d get that from just one glance.” Perhaps he’s right, for you know that Juyeon is just naturally more perceptive than others, and the things he picks up on don’t tend to be the same as what others notice. 

“I hope you’re right. This isn’t how I wanted him to know,” you groan.

“Oh? So you’re planning on telling him? That’s why you called, right?” You know Juyeon’s teasing you by the tone of his voice, and you resist the temptation to whine at him. 

“Help me ask Minho to the dance, Juyeon,” you plead, trying to let every ounce of your desperation show in your tone, praying that his response will be yes. There’s a pause, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation as you await his next words.  

“Well, I can’t exactly ask him for you,” he starts, “but I’ll try to give you some advice.”

“Thank you, Juyeon,” you breathe in relief, switching the call to speaker mode so you can peel it away from your cheek.

“Don’t mention it. First things first, though . . .”

Juyeon trails off without an explanation, and you understand why a few moments later when you catch a flicker of light erupting from your phone out of the corner of your eye. When you lift it up a little higher in your hands, you see that Juyeon has turned his camera on, his face just slightly too close to the camera and his smile filling the screen. You rush to turn yours on as well, switching on a lamp so your face can be seen in the near darkness of the room. After an exchange of waves, Juyeon clears his throat, and even through the blurry quality you catch the blaze in his eyes that suggests he’s gotten idea.

“Y/N, Minho’s at your place right now, isn’t he?” Juyeon asks, and there’s something about his tone that strikes you as a bit too bold for your liking. 

“Well, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, “but I think he’s asleep right now.”

“How about you just ask him whenever he’s awake?” Juyeon suggests, and you raise your eyebrows incredulously as you watch him shrug his shoulders like he’s just told you to do the easiest thing in the world.

“Are you insane?” You shriek, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth when you realize how loud you’ve gotten. Juyeon only laughs, his eyes morphing into crescents and his bunny-like smile widening. “You think I should just ask him like that, no preparations or anything?”

“Trust me, Y/N. It’s nice to make things special, but I think that Minho will appreciate your honest confession more than anything else.” Juyeon’s advice is laced with sincerity, and you don’t need to look at his face in the camera to know that he wants the best for you. 

“I’m blaming you if things go wrong, Lee Juyeon,” you sigh reluctantly. “But I suppose there’s not really any other way to do it.”

“Give it a try,” he encourages. “I think he’ll like it.”

“Thanks, Juyeon. For picking up so late and for the advice,” you tell him genuinely, and he smiles. 

“Anytime, Y/N.”

With that, the two of you hang up, and your head automatically drops to the table to rest in between your arms.

“Just ask him whenever he’s awake,” you mutter to yourself, “How am I supposed to do that? Oh, good morning Minho, breakfast is over there, and by the way, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the winter formal with me?” 

The words sound stupid no matter how you say them, and you can’t stop yourself from the feeling of hopelessness that strikes you as you trudge back to the bed where you find Minho laying peacefully on his side. You smile, tilting your head as you watch him for a moment until he suddenly turns over so he’s lying on his back, blinking repeatedly until his eyes focus on you.

“You’re back?” His words are hoarse and followed by a yawn, which you laugh at softly. 

“Sorry, Minho, did I keep you up?” 

Minho says nothing and instead pats the space beside him on the bed, to which you oblige, instantly climbing in to lay next to him. He inches closer to you, resting his head next to your shoulder and quietly snuggling into your side. Trying to ignore the way your heart has sped up in response to his figure latching onto yours, you recall Juyeon’s words from before, realizing that he’s awake right now, and perhaps you have a chance. 

“Minho?” Your voice comes out in a whisper, and you don’t dare to look at him out of fear for your heart. 

“Hmm?” Minho’s response is sleepy, slightly muffled from your shoulder but unbelievably soft. 

“Are you by any chance going with someone to the winter formal?” You ask hesitantly, squeezing your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Minho makes a small noise of disagreement, and you can feel his head shaking against your side as if in extra confirmation.

A relieved sigh falls from your lips, but your next words get stuck in your throat when you come to the realization of just how scary it is to confess. You can’t stop the swarm of worries that hit you, overcome by the question of whether he doesn’t see you as anything more than a friend, and if asking him to the dance will jeopardize your relationship with him. You know that you can’t hold your feelings in forever, though, and you think of Juyeon’s kind motivation when you say your next words.

“D’you maybe wanna go to the formal together?”

There’s a heavy silence, your question lingering in the air unanswered, and your heart sinks in your chest at the lack of response. 

“Minho?” You try again quietly. Dread overtakes you as you guess that perhaps his silence is a form of his rejection, and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to get yourself out of this one. When you turn on your side to face him, however, you find that he’s already fallen back asleep, light snores emitting from his parted mouth. A small smile creeps up your face as you unconsciously lift your hand to stroke his hair, mindlessly dragging your fingers through the silky strands. He leans into your touch, eyes still closed as he mumbles meaningless words out of fatigue and shifts so he’s closer to you.

Maybe tomorrow, you think to yourself, resting your head on the top of his and letting your eyes fall shut as sleep overtakes you.

TRY TWO: MAKE IT SPECIAL.

Your heart pounds as you tug the door open to the café, peeking inside to find the area mostly empty save for a handful of students at the far end. You thank the heavens for appearing just on time, the familiar sight instantly soothing your nerves. You set the large plastic bag you’d brought along with you on one of the tables, laughing a little as you begin to empty it of its contents one by one. 

“Look at you, Y/N,” you mumble to yourself, “bringing this food and getting all dressed up for a man.” 

The last item in the bag makes you smile, despite yourself, and you pull out the small box of chocolates that you had bought in the morning, setting it down to complete the collection. You marvel at the assortment of treats you’d gotten for him, shaking your head as you sit down to try and calm yourself from the slight tension of it all. Glancing up to check the time in one of the clocks hung up on the wall, you realize with jittery anticipation that he’ll be arriving soon. 

Five minutes pass, and he’s nowhere to be seen. 

You think nothing of it until another ten minutes pass, and you begin to wonder what’s holding him up, trying not to let the feeling of unease get to you as you assure yourself that he might just be running a bit late. Your foot begins to tap quietly against the tiled floor, an anxious habit of yours you’d never managed to quite get rid of. 

Thirty minutes pass, and you pull your phone out from your side pocket, unlocking it to stare at his contact in part hesitation and part concern.

Should I call him?

You weigh out your options, wondering if you’ll sound too demanding if you call to ask if something’s wrong. However, your phone appears to solve the problem for you, the shrill sound of its ringing interrupting you from your thoughts. You jump at the sudden noise, but accept the call instantly upon seeing the caller ID. 

“I was just about to call. Is everything okay?” You ask, and your eyes widen in worry at the sound of Minho panting on the other end.

“Y/N,” he breathes, “I—I’m sorry. Coach is keeping us in an extra hour, and—”

“Slow down, Minho,” you urge, “first catch your breath.”

He hums in agreement, and your face falls when you process his words, realizing the true reason he called. Although you know he’s not the one to blame, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that creeps up inside of you as you glance down at the chocolates and favorite foods of his sitting on the table. 

“You’re saying you can’t make it today, right?” The words come out softer than you mean for them to, and Minho sighs regretfully. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know we have that big game coming up tomorrow, and—look, if you want, I can leave practice.” His voice is gentle, apologetic, and tears sting your eyes upon hearing how willing he is to risk getting kicked from the team for you. 

“No, you can’t,” you shake your head frantically. “I’m not letting you suffer the consequences of that for something this small. Go have fun, okay? We do this regularly anyways, we can just meet up next time.”

You hear a rustle on his end, followed by the voices of his teammates calling out for him. “Are you sure?” Minho asks, a twinge of concern in his tone. 

“I’m sure! Now go, they’re calling you,” you encourage, trying to sound as cheerful as you can to convince him. 

It works, to your relief, for Minho’s next words are bright. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice before he ends the call. 

There’s a moment of silence as you look at the goodies once more, before your eyes land upon the box of chocolates, and you pry the lid open to find them already beginning to melt. Reminding yourself that you won’t be seeing him today anyways, and that there’s no use wasting a perfectly good box of chocolates, you pop one of them in your mouth. The corners of your lips tug upwards at the savory taste, and you let out a deep exhale as you remember that you’re not out of ideas just yet. 

“More for me, I guess,” you mutter, trying not to lose hope. “On to try three!”

TRY THREE: GO ALL OUT. 

The sign leaning against your legs serves as a constant reminder of just how whipped you are for Minho, and at times it amazes even you just how far you’re willing to go for him. Making sure no one else can see it, you take yet another glimpse at the cardboard sign you spent the entirety of last night making, lifting it enough for it to rest in your lap. You stare at the bolded words drawn on the surface in capital letters, surrounded by small designs and stickers in a variety of colors. 

I might strike out asking, but will you go to the winter formal with me?

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of your throat and you find yourself yet again bewildered by the sheer cheesiness of it all. You can’t bring yourself to raise it, however, telling yourself that tensions are too high right now and that you’ll show him later when there’s no potential of the sign distracting him. You set it back down at your feet, and you look past the sea of people to search for Minho in the group of players on the baseball field. 

Murmurs of “the score is so close,” “we need a home run to win,” and “we’re gonna lose, aren’t we?” echo around you in the stadium, and your mind immediately flashes back to Minho’s words from before the game. 

“If I win, you have to do any one thing that I want for me.” 

You had teased him and asked him what he’d do if he lost, but Minho had only shrugged nonchalantly, telling you that he’d do anything you wanted if that was the case. 

Looking down at him on the field now, you watch as he readies himself at the batter’s box, and despite the near-impossible chance of him securing the team a win, something about the blaze in his eyes tells you that he won’t be losing today. Just before the pitcher can pitch the ball, he looks up towards the stands, his eyes scanning the crowd to find you. When he does, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t mouth anything, but somehow through his gaze, you already know exactly what he wants to tell you: he’s going to win. 

The pitcher steps forward, raising his leg and leaning back with the ball before he throws it with a single fluid motion. The ball spirals forward towards Minho with immense speed, and you watch breathlessly as he positions himself to hit it. He swings the bat, and a gasp leaves your mouth.

What happens next is a blur, and by the time you can process what’s happening, Minho has already tossed the bat and reached base one. You squint your eyes as you search for the ball, managing to glimpse it right before it falls outside the gates of the field. You cover your mouth with your hands in shock as you look back down to Minho just in time to watch his foot touch the second base. 

“He hit it all the way out!” Shouts and exclamations of surprise reverberate around you as the audience rises to its feet eagerly. 

Base three. 

All attempts to stop him are useless at this point, you realize, for Minho’s already making his way to the final base, his features hardened by determination. Just before he reaches the end, Minho finds you in the crowd once more. His gaze remains locked on yours as he flashes you a small grin, his foot touching the home plate at the exact same moment. 

Home run. 

For an instant, there’s nothing but dead silence, and then the entire audience erupts into applause, the noise turning almost unbearable as it rings in your ears. The edge of the sign scratches against your leg as you stand up, and you’re reminded of the dance as you impulsively grab hold of the cardboard, getting on top of your seat as you prepare to raise it. When you inspect the field one last time to ensure Minho is still there, you find that he’s lost in the arms of his teammates, all shouting excitedly and clapping him on the back among cheers.

Your shoulders slump as you realize that there’s no way he’ll be able to see your sign with all the ruckus, and you dejectedly get down from your seat, making your way off the stands and exiting the stadium. 

As you trudge home, you wonder if you’ll even be able to face him without blushing, let alone ask him to the formal. 

TRY FOUR: NO INTERRUPTIONS. 

The next time you see Minho, you’re stepping through the open door of Chan’s house, and you’re met with the sight of the entire team laughing recklessly, joking around and shoving each other playfully over a set of pizza boxes. Small decorations and streamers are hung up in colors of red and green to highlight the approach of Christmas, and something about the setting makes you feel delightfully warm. It’s somehow exactly the kind of celebration you imagined, and when you look towards the team once again, you find Minho in the center of all the chatter, just as you always do. 

When he catches you standing before them, he freezes, and his gaze morphs into something different, almost hungry, as his eyes slowly trail over your figure from top to bottom. The intensity of his stare seems to burn into you, and you watch in quiet anticipation as he separates himself from the group to walk up to you. 

There are no excuses now, you think. No interruptions, no distractions, no reasons to prevent you from asking him. 

“‘Come to the celebration party at Chan’s place, and I’ll tell you there,’” you greet, quoting his text from hours before, and Minho smiles sheepishly. “Well, I’m here now. What is it that you want?”

“You look beautiful,” is his response, and your next words are forgotten as your face goes up in flames. 

“I’m glad you think so. It took me a long time to find this dress,” you mumble, staring down at your feet to hide your blush. 

“I’m not talking about the dress,” Minho says, and your eyes widen as you look back up to search his face. He turns away before you can look too hard, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turn red. “Anyways,” he mumbles, avoiding your eyes, “you told me you wanted to ask me something too, right?”

“You first,” you blurt, still too flustered from his compliment to think straight. Your words, however, are drowned out by a particularly loud screech emitting from the other end of the room, followed by the booming laughter of the rest of the team. Furrowing his brows, Minho cups his ear and leans closer to you, prompting you to repeat the words in his ear. Another series of laughs sounds from the room, and Minho takes your hands in his to bring you to a more empty section of the house. 

“Finally,” he breathes when the two of you are safe from disturbances. “I swear, they can get so loud sometimes.”

You giggle at his words. “Tell me what you want for winning,” you urge him, trying to do whatever you can to delay your turn. Minho’s face darkens, and something about the way his gaze turns intense makes your heart race.

“Look up,” he whispers, his hands tightening around yours. You obey, your eyes drifting up as you find yourself staring at what you think could be one of the most beautiful bunches of mistletoe you’ve ever seen, hanging from the ceiling and twinkling under the soft light. You gulp upon realizing its implications, your tongue swiping over your lips out of nervous habit. You look back down to face him, and you find that his expression reflects the same desire he displayed before, his eyes sparkling as the corners of his lips turn up. 

“We can’t break tradition, now can we?” He teases, leaning forward just enough for your noses to touch, his lips barely ghosting over yours so you can feel the warmth of his breath upon your face. When you close your eyes, your own lips parting, he closes the distance. 

Time seems to freeze in place as his soft lips meet yours, his hands dropping to your waist as his lips move slowly against yours. There’s a passion in his kiss that you’re reciprocating before you even know it, and a slight smile shapes his lips that you can’t help but mirror. He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours for a moment as he catches his breath. 

“You have to do any one thing that I want right?” He breathes. “Go to the winter formal with me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes flying open in shock and immediately finding his as you soften at the sincerity in his face. 

“You mean that?” You murmur, and a smirk graces Minho’s features, one you’ve become so familiar with after countless years of him teasing you. 

“’Course I do. That’s what you were gonna ask me too, right?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. You blink for a moment, tilting your head slightly as you process his words. Then it hits you. 

"Juyeon told me I wasn’t being obvious!” You grumble, pouting in dismay. 

“Well,” Minho laughs, “I only had a small idea that you liked me. What confirmed it was that sign you made—I might strike out asking, right? I may have gotten a peek at it when you left to get water before the game.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t look! That’s not fair,” you whine, hitting his shoulder playfully. 

“It’s the reason I’m asking you now though, isn’t it? So tell me, Y/N. Will you go to the dance with me?” Minho smiles softly, the light in his eyes is akin to that of the mistletoe berries gleaming above you. You can’t stop your mouth from pulling into a wide grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to you, letting your lips answer his question as they meet his once more. 

LEE MINHO; TRY ONE: SUCCESS!

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz drabbles #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids minho #skz minho #lee minho #minho #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho drabbles #minho fluff

[andysbubba]

candlelight loving

-ᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴀʀʙᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴇᴍɪɴɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴄᴜᴍᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴛ ᴜɢʜ

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ :)

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

-

You and Andy have been too, extremely busy the past few weeks. You were coping with school and keeping up with all the final papers while he’s either in his office or in the study at your shared home.

Slight exaggeration, but the main point is- you were both extremely busy.

And you weren’t really expecting it when he wrapped his arms around your torso in the kitchen while you were making coffee, bearded chin resting on your shoulder and feeling his clothed chest against your bare back.

Your movements stilled for awhile before you leaned into his hold.

“I missed you,” His nose nuzzled into your neck as he pulled you closer into his chest.

You hummed as you stirred the coffee in your mug, “I missed you too, honey,”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been taking care of you lately,” His calloused fingers traced circles into your stomach as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

You pushed the mug away before turning in his hold, finally facing him. Your hand made its way to his chest, and the other to the side of his face. “You’ve been busy, bubba. There’s nothing wrong with that,”

“But I’ve been coming back late and spending all my time in the study,” He pouts, tone guilty as if he really did something wrong.

“And?” Your thumb rubbed his cheek softly. “I won’t pull you away from your work just because I’m attention seeking and my boyfriend isn’t giving me the attention I’m so deprieved of,” You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

He chuckles lowly, blue eyes staring into you with pure admiration. “You know, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met?”

You roll your eyes at him once again. “'Course I know,”

He laughs at your reply, head thrown back as he stares at you lovingly. “Well, I think I owe my pretty boy a little something, huh?” He trails off, hands trailing down to your sides and in a flash, he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

You gasped playfully, hands wrapping around his neck, “Andrew Stephen Barber.”

“Can’t help it when you’re walking around in just these grey sweatpants.” He winks like the true charmer he is, hands trailing up your torso and pecs, before he fully leans in and kisses you.

And god do you miss it. The pure thrill, his soft lips, the way Andy’s lips makes you lose your mind, and the way he knows every one of your weak spot.

You slide your hands under his shirt as soon as he pulls away, tugging so he gets rid of it. He leans into your neck as he pulls away, kissing, nipping and licking all at once. Andy kisses down your chest, eyes glancing into yours as he mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking very lightly.

Andy smirks as you raspily groaned out his name, hand diving into his locks and tugging his hair.

“Relax, baby. I’m just getting started,” He cheekily states, kissing down your chest and stomach.

“Andyyyyy,” You whine, writhing on the solid hard counter.

“Shhhhh honey,” He hushes you, moving up and nipping at your collarbone before grabbing your jaw and pressing his nose against yours. “I always take good care of my boy, don’t I?”

You left his question unanswered as you writhed under his gaze.

Andy sighs, “C’mon baby, you know I won’t do anything till I hear you say it out,” He tugs on your hair and roughly pulled your head back. “Let me hear you, pretty boy,”

“You always take care of me, daddy,”

“That’s it, babyboy. Always so fucking good for me.” He leans in and licked a long stripe down your chest as his fingers tugged at your sweatpants. “Off.”

You lifted your hips up as Andy helped pull your sweats down. He groans deeply when he sees that you’re completely naked underneath. He brought his lips down on yours, roughly and so goddamn full of lust.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” He sighs as he pulls away. “C’mon, up. Wanna make sure you’re all comfy when I fuck that tight little pussy.”

“Daddy,” You whine desperately, as if he didn’t just call your asshole a pussy.

Andy laughs at your neediness. “C’mere.” He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist as he lifts you up to your bedroom. “Been too long, huh? You’re probably all tight by now, hun.”

Andy steps past the threshold of your room and drops you on the bed. “Guess I’m just gonna have to stretch you out till you’re all loose for me again, babe.”

“Andy,” You whine.

“Yeah, baby?”

“You talk too much,”

He chuckles breathlessly at your antics. “Okay, okay, baby. Turn around. Ass up.”

He walks away and reached into the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms.

“Need your cock, daddy,” You muttered shyly, a silent signal that meant that you didn’t want him to use the condoms.

Andy grinned at you as if you hung up the moon. “God, I love you, baby.” He steps over back to you, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the small of your back. “Still gotta get you stretched out, honey.”

Andy leans down and spread your cheeks open with his hands before he licks a stripe up from your balls to your ass. Andy tongued at your hole, licking and shoving his tongue inside in every way possible.

You shook breathlessly under him and drove your ass further into his face.

One of his hands let go of your ass and slides to your front, taking your cock in his grasp. You jerked into his grip as he slowly moves his fist down your cock.

He pulls away, taking in a deep breath, before you heard the familiar sound of the bottle cap opening.

“Ready, honey?”

You angled your ass towards him, presenting your hole open for Andy. “Please, daddy.”

The first finger entered your hole and besides the original 3 seconds of discomfort, it began to feel good. You grinded your ass against his finger and moaned into the bedsheets.

Andy added the second one without a warning. And the tiny stretch made you feel too fucking good that you let out a loud groan and fisted the sheets.

He kept on thrusting his fingers into you, trying to get you used to the stretched. “Another one, babe?”

You shook your head as best as you could. “Need your cock, please Andy,”

“Fuck, you’re so needy baby.” He flips you around by your hips and leaned down to press a his lips against yours. “Make sure you let the whole street know who’s fucking you,” He whispers as he pulls away.

The tip of Andy’s cock slids past your hole. The thick head was definitely more than the prep but it felt too good that you can’t complain.

“Fuck , Andy,” You groan as he goes deeper.

“Not loud enough, boy,” He notes before gripping your hips and thrusting his whole cock in your hole.

“Shit, ANDY!”

His cock was hitting so deep inside you that you felt your stomach quiver.

“Look so fucking pretty with my cock in you, honey.”

He tightens his hold on your hips before he kept thrusting into you. You barely got a breath in before his cock was back inside your ass.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” You moan out as Andy lets go of your hips and plants one hand beside your head and the other shifts to your cock.

He tugs on your length, but still bruising your prostate with his cock. His thumb brushes against your slit, making you quiver the slightest bit.

Andy’s chest was shining with sweat. A sight to behold. It would’ve been a romantic if he wasn’t fucking into you like it was his last time as a top.

“Gotta ask nicely if you wanna cum, baby,” He reminds you with the ever so annoying smirk gracing his lips.

“Shit, please daddy, I wanna cum. F-fuck fuck, please let me cum, Andy.”

He chuckles, “You’re lucky I’m feeling a little less mean today, babyboy. Cum for me, baby.”

He brushes his thumb against your slit repeatedly, knowing that it makes you sensitive, as he thrusts faster into your ass.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, ANDY!” You scream as you cum, your seed spilling over your torso as Andy slowly stopped jerking you off.

He grunts as he chased his own high, fully focused on spilling into your hole. “Shit, baby.”

He breathes heavily as he came inside you, forehead locking into your neck as he pants slowly. He licks and kisses your collarbone as he comes down from his high.

Andy glances up from where he was. “You okay, baby?”

You nod breathlessly, ass filled with Andy’s seed and the filth of your own cum on your torso. “Wanna use the buttplug.”

Andy groans at your words. “Fuck, I love you.” He tries not to move too much with his cock still inside you as he leans up and gave you a sloppy kiss.

“Love you too, honey,”

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