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#you’ll forever be one of my favorite fics <3
wayward-sherlock · 7 months
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happy birthday bad idea! 🥳
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cheolhub · 1 year
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THE MORNING — KIM MINGYU ࿐
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summary. mingyu knows you have a lot to do the day before the wedding, but he won’t let you leave without giving him his favorite meal for breakfast
wc. 2.2k
warnings. marriage kink (ik…), oral (f. receiving), gyu is a needy baby, a bit of teasing, praise — MINORS DNI 18+
note. ok hello, i know i said i was on hiatus, but i’ve decided im not anymore bc i need to be able escape from reality so enjoy ANOTHER fic w my newfound marriage kink. will likely write a pt. 2 (post-wedding) if u guys like this :D
p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts &lt;3
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mingyu hates waking up alone. he has since he met you all those years ago, so today, when he wakes up cold just to see your spot empty, he’s grumpy to say the least. 
he leaves the bed to look for you, eyes tired as he’s muttering to himself about how you do this even though you know he hates it. when he finds your sleepy figure in the kitchen buttering a slice of toast in nothing but his oversized shirt and your socks, he immediately pouts.
“g’morning baby,” you smile at his eyes that are barely open and his disheveled head of hair, setting down the butter knife. “why’re you pouting?” 
he huffs, arms crossing at his chest, mumbling out, “you know why. i hate waking up cold.” 
you coo at how cute he was being. “‘m sorry, gyu— but we’re getting married tomorrow, i had to get up early to meet with the caterers and i’m gonna be late if i don’t start getting ready soon.” 
he sighs, moving to wrap his arms around your waist from the back. his face digs into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin. “make it up to me.”
you hum, relaxing into his touch. “baby, don’t start… i’m gonna be late— you were the one who wanted a perfect wedding.”
“don’t care about the wedding…” he says in between kisses— ones that were starting to escalate as his teeth scraped against your sensitive spot. “just want you.”
you smile at his words because you know they’re not true. mingyu has been gushing about giving you the most extravagant wedding since you said yes to his even more extravagant proposal. 
“‘n you’ll have me tomorrow night. forever.” you emphasize and he groans, pushing his growing bulge into you. “but right now, i need to start getting ready, i have to meet them in 45 minutes.”
he whines, needily rutting into you, sucking at your skin harsher with every passing second. “baby, you can’t just say shit like that and then leave.”
you tease with a giggle, “what? saying things like i’ll be yours forever?” 
“yes! don’t say things like that if you don’t want me to bend you over and fuck you while you choke on toast!” he whines out and you can’t help but laugh loudly, turning in his grip to face him. 
he’s giving you the biggest doe eyes and, usually, they’d work on you because there is something so irresistible about your soon-to-be husband, but right now, you’re adamant on making sure tomorrow's wedding runs smoothly. so he’s just going to have to wait. 
“okay, baby,” you start, a cheeky smile on your lips “i’m sorry. i won’t say anything like that ever again.”
“noooo!” he cries, shaking your body with his big hands. “i like when you say stuff like that, just don’t say stuff like that right now. you’re practically edging me.”
your fiance is so easy.
you coo, pecking his pouty lips, “okay, i’ll keep that in mind.” you say. “‘m gonna go get ready, you can have a slice of toast if you want.” you offer, wiggling out of his tight grip.
he scoffs at the proposal, deterring you from leaving and lifting you by the waist, sitting you on the empty space on the kitchen island. your surprised gasp makes him groan and he’s praying you’ll let him hear your other pretty noises before you leave him for the day. 
his lips ghost over yours, “would rather have something else for breakfast.” he mumbles against them before getting on his knees in front of you. “pretty baby, at least lemme taste you, please?”
he’s so pretty with his shaggy hair and his tired eyes and you never realized how much he resembles an actual puppy dog before now. you can’t help but admire the beauty that is your forever lover. 
you bite your lip at his plea, the offer being almost too good to deny. you weigh your decisions, eyes shooting to the clock across the kitchen. 8:17 a.m. if you wanted to be out and on time, you’d need to leave within the next 30 minutes– that isn’t nearly enough time, but the way he’s peering up at you and looking so fucking fine while he’s on his knees all for you… it’s too tempting. 
“gyu…” you trail off as his arms take a hold of your legs and his face nuzzles into the insides of your plush thighs. he presses soft, gentle kisses to the skin. 
“mmm, baby, please,” he mumbles, moaning as his face is almost directly in front of your clothed cunt. “i’ll be so quick, gonna make you cum ‘n you can go. you’ll let me, won’t you?” his breath fans against your core where arousal is now gathering and soaking through the cotton fabric. 
temptation is a bitch, you rule.
he’s rendered you breathless and he’s barely touched you. you’re experiencing another moment that proves no matter how much of a bitch mingyu is for you, you’re just as desperate for him. two people that are a mess at the hands of one another– a match made in heaven. 
“fuck, gyu,” you pant, eyes shooting up at the clock. 8:18 a.m. your eyes fall back to him and you decide, fuck it. “5 minutes or else i’ll finish myself off in the shower.” you offer the empty threat as if he couldn’t make you cum in a mere 30 seconds if he really wanted to.
he smiles, “whatever my pretty wife wants…” he whispers, noticing the way you twitch at the words. a soft chuckle slips past his lips and he looks up to you again. “oh, so you like when i say that just as much as i do, don’t you?”
of course you do. who wouldn’t get turned on by the idea of being kim mingyu’s pretty wife? 
you roll your eyes in an attempt to hide the fact that his words don’t have a great affect you, gruffly saying, “not your wife yet and you’ve got 4 minutes and 30 seconds, baby.” you lace your fingers through his long, raven hair and push him into your heat. “get to work.”
he moans, taking in your scent, nose pressing into your covered clit as his tongue darts out to taste you, further soaking the cotton fabric with his saliva. you’re almost certain he’s going to eat you out through your panties, but he proves you wrong by taking them off in the blink of an eye.
he untangles his arms from your legs before rolling them down your legs and leaving them bunched up on the ground next to him. before you know it, he’s diving back in like a starved man, arms coming back to their original position and pulling you even closer to his mouth. 
he starts by letting his tongue lap you up from your drooling hole to your hardened clit and he whines. you look down, breathless with your teeth digging into your bottom lip, and you completely take him in– how his tongue eagerly laps at your pussy with the most pleasured look on his face. 
no matter how many times he eats you out, it proves to never be enough. every time he gets a taste, it’s like the first time and he falls in love with you all over again. truth be told, mingyu is addicted to you and would happily die with his head in between your thighs. 
your eyes flicker up to the clock while mingyu opens his eyes to look at you. 8:20 a.m. 
he grunts unhappily, “look at me.” he mumbles into you, sending shivers up your spine. when your eyes meet his, he wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue at the bud. he relishes in the way you moan out his name, arching your back and gripping the end of the kitchen counter. 
“you’re so good, baby– fuck, you always eat me out so fucking well,” you moan the praise breathily, eyes fluttering closed. your head falls back in pleasure and mingyu’s ego inflates, cock twitching at the praise. 
he alternates between digging his tongue in your pussy, sucking up your honeyed arousal while his nose toys with your clit and having his mouth and tongue play with your clit. he’s moaning and whining, mumbling about how good you taste and how much he loves your pussy all the while devouring you whole. 
you’re a mess, not even bothered to check the clock anymore as you feel all the vibrations and action provided by his tongue nearly hurtle you over the edge. tears gather up at your lashline as you whine and whine, his name and his tongue being the only things you can think about right now. 
you’re almost embarrassed to be this close this quick, but then you remember it’s mingyu. mingyu who could make you cum by playing with your tits for too long. mingyu who could get you soaking his thigh in a matter of minutes. mingyu who knows just how to please you in any way possible.
“gyu! baby, oh, my god.” you sob, one of your hands moving back to tug at his silky hair. “‘m so fucking close.”
he lets out a guttural moan as he feels his own body heat up with pure desire. he wishes you had nowhere to go after this so he could sink you onto his cock and fuck you all day– make you cry for him, cum for him, beg for more of him till you’re both a mess and at a loss for words. he plans on doing so as soon as the wedding is over, though. he’s not going to let you do anything other than take his dick like a good wife as soon as you say ‘i do.’ 
he’s lost in your cunt, moaning with his eyes closed and brows furrowed as if he’s eating the best meal of his life. your joint moans and whines are bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, surely filling your entire home with lewd sounds. 
“cum all over me, baby, fuckin’ cum for me. you can do it.” he coaxes through moans, though it comes muffled with his tongue shoved in your pussy. he sounds like a broken record, begging you to let go over and over. “my pretty fuckin’ wife, do it for me, baby.”
the title and vibration of his words send you right over the edge. the rubber band in the fiery pit of your stomach finally snapping as you cry out his name prettily, body shaking uncontrollably. your hand tug on his locks, holding him in place while you grind against his face to ride out your orgasm. 
he’s a mess at the sight unfolding in front of him. you look so fucking desprate and it’s getting him close to cumming untouched, but he holds it in hopes you’ll change your mind– be an inconvenience so he can fill you up, fuck you full, and do it all again. he so badly wants you to call the caterers and push back the time so he can have you all to himself. 
you finally come down from your high, eyes glazed over, pussy still aching with need. said eyes find the clock and read the time. 8:24 a.m.
he parts from you after licking you clean, standing up to his full height and towers over you. his eyes are full of lust. hunger and desire. there’s a thin layer of sheen covering his mouth and chin left over from the arousal that still seems to be seeping from your hole.
“six minutes.” you pant cheekily, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. “you promised five.” 
he smirks and, god damn, does he look fucking sexy with his disheveled hair and swollen pink lips. “i didn’t promise anything, baby.” he murmurs, hands finding your hips and standing in between your legs. “i can promise to fuck you so so good if you push back your appointment… just by an hour.”
you huff, pussy clenching around nothing because you know his words are very much true. “gyu… need i remind you, we get married tomorrow.”
“i know, and everything is gonna be perfect, baby. stop worrying so much.” he tells you softly. “as long as you’re there… as long as you say ‘i do’ before the end of the night… i don’t give a damn. don’t even need to wear a dress. just you… i could marry you like this.”
this fucking sweet talker. 
you blush, hiding your smile by chewing on the bottom of your lip, but you fail in doing so as your cheekbones shoot high up and your eyes crinkle. “you’re just saying that so you can fuck me.” 
“yeah, but it’s true.” he leans in, lips ghosting over yours again. 
“you’re gonna wanna fuck me in that dress tomorrow,” you tell him breathily, heart melting at the man he is. 
“i didn’t doubt that, pretty girl.” he whispers. “so, do you wanna fuck now?”
you smile, “i do.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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wlfpet · 1 year
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ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET
AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5
content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):
reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’
MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY
word count: 5.4k (oof.)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-
nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :(( feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.
of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.
sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.
in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.
she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”
loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times, like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say, that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.
but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.
but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.
"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."
":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."
"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"
under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!
sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.
“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”
she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.
after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.
...it’s going to be a long session.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.
abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)
one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.
when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.
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epicbuddieficrecs · 24 days
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Fic rec for my BFF, pt. 1
My best friend is currently watching 9-1-1. I've been trying to get her onboard the Buddie ship and she is graciously tolerating me. She's asked for some fic recs and so this is what I came up with! I did have to work with a few parameters to fit her taste, the most important one being nothing post season 3 cause that's where she's up to and she didn't want spoilers.
Hope you enjoy these bestie!
Canon to Canon Divergent
Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars 
Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 123/? | 379K | Mature
This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
THE canon fics to end all canon fics. I know it's still a WIP and it spans up to post-S6, but if you want a canon fic, that's the one to go for.
Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels 
Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting, Stripper Buck | 84K | Explicit
When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.
One of my most re-read fics. The smut is impeccable. The angst is so good. Absolutely love this fic!
Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet
Sentinels AU, Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 82K | Teen
Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.
Another one of my most re-read fics! I had never read a Sentinels AU before and I fell in love with the concept!
the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies 
Didn't Know They Were Dating, Post-S3 | 27K | General
“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.” Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him. “That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him. - or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.
Don't know if you knew this, Marie, but Buddie is the #1 most tagged ship in the "Didn't Know They Were Dating" tag cause they're such idiots <3 and this is one of my favorite ones!
the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber/ @theleftboobgrabber 
Late S3, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit
“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark. “What for?” Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious. “Being you, idiot.” “And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy. Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle. But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of if Abby would take him back, but when. A matter of days. When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.
Top tier pining + oblivious Eddie = 👌
Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @tevankinkley
A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit
“Buck is very dear, Mr Diaz. Not only to me but to the pack. You’ll find that if you treat him with anything less than utmost respect you’ll have a lot of people to answer to.”   Eddie swallowed. It was clear that in the absence of a mate, this omega had found himself a very protective pack. “Understood, sir.” Or: Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.
There's not a ton of A/B/O fics in this fandom, and I should really try to read more of them, but this is probably my favorite one so far!
I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings/@extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
S3, Friends With Benefits, BDSM | 68K | Explicit
When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea. Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right? There's no way this could possibly go wrong.
THE friends with benefits fic! (ok lbr there's a ton of great ones, but this one is S2 focused iirc)
AUs
My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit
When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.
You can expect amazing smut by this author as always, but also really interesting worldbuilding and characters!
All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit
Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.
SO GOOD. The canon divergent reincarnation vampire AU you didn't know you needed!!!
a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz 
Actors AU, Friends With Benefits | 130K | Mature
One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie.
An epic tale of movie making and enemies to friends to FWB to strangers to lovers!
The Truth of Love (Amas Veritas) by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan
Practical Magic AU | 20K | Teen
Bobby opens his mouth like he wants to argue but decides against it. “Walk me through the logic here then. How will this make sure you never fall in love?” “Because I’m making someone who doesn’t exist,” Buck explains, glancing from the half-full bowl to Bobby. He can’t work out what the look on Bobby’s face means so he pointedly elects to ignore it. “They’ll have brown hair,” he starts, clipping another petal from the rose bush. “And brown eyes-“ “Lotta people out there with brown hair and brown eyes, kid,” Bobby says lightly and Buck rolls his eyes. “But not many that can ride a horse backwards,” Buck counters. “And whose favourite shape is a star and who’s got…two scars,” he decides, plucking a basil leaf and dropping it in the bowl. “One on each shoulder.”
Because Practical Magic AUs always make me think of you <3
I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Canon Divergent, You've Got Mail Fusion | 29K | Teen
When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker.
I do love some good romcom vibes!
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jostystyles · 9 months
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i can still see it all | qh
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a/n: this is my entry for @wyattjohnston summer fic exchange! @wildrangers this is for you love! i hope you love it <3 im so sorry it took me forever, i had covid and other life happenings that set me back. i picked daylight from the list of songs you gave me, and this was born. enjoy love 🩵
They say when you love someone, you’ll know. There will be a moment of realization, a sort of ‘ah’ moment. Quinn has never really had that. Sure, he’s dated girls and thrown out the L word a few times, but he wasn’t really sure he meant it. Obviously, he loves his mom, dad, and brothers. Love, to him, was all black and white. It was all good or all bad. But sometimes, when you’ve been asleep so long in a 20 year dark night, the scream of color can come along and change your life for the better. (Y/N) came into his life in the most obscure way possible. He met her at the bar 5 minutes after he was dumped by his ex. After she laughed in his face and told him she was, she bought him a drink. After that, he doesn’t know when or even how it happened. Suddenly she was in his life everyday, and his friends became hers. Jack and Luke took to her instantly, and his mom liked having another girl to talk to. The one thing he did know was that he fell in love with her. He was starting to understand that love wasn’t quite black and white, but it could be golden. She was his muse, the one thing that kept him going when he felt like stopping. Even if she didn’t know it.
Quinn was always working. It was no surprise, being an NHL star. Between games, practice, charity events, and just existing. It was exhausting sometimes. He loved it, and wouldn’t change it for the world, but sometimes he just needed a break. When summer first hit and he was still in Vancouver, sometimes he wouldn’t leave his apartment for days. He had to take a break, just to recharge his social battery. (Y/N) knew this. Which is why she came over to make sure he made an effort to eat and have some sort of human interaction.
Unlocking the door with bags in hand, (Y/N) stumbled into his apartment. Brock was away on vacation, so Quinn graciously offered to watch Milo and Coolie for a few days. She heard little footsteps running towards her and looked down to see a dog wagging its tail and smiling up at her. “Oh Milo,” She sighed. “What are we going to do with him?” She finished, glancing around the apartment. It was messy, she wouldn't lie. Quinn was a messy person even if he didn't seem like it. Figuring he was napping as he didn’t answer her texts, she began to clean up his kitchen a bit. As she scrubbed the counters of the residue from last night’s dinner, she glanced at the wall of photos diagonal to her point of view. The first one that caught her eye was a family photo from Quinn’s draft day, his crooked smile reflected on the faces of his family members as they surrounded him in his newly adorned Canucks jersey. To the right of that one, was one she took of him, Brock, and Petey at a family skate event a few years back. The last one to catch her eye was her favorite. It was of her and Quinn, taken last summer at the lake in Michigan. She was on his back, both their faces flushed with sun and noses scrunched up in laughter. To an outsider, they could easily be mistaken for a couple.
As she finished cleaning up, (Y/N) began to walk down the hallway, dog in tow and a bag of takeout in her hands. “Knock knock, I’m coming in whether you like it or not.” She exclaimed in a sing-song tone once she reached his room. She couldn’t see it, but Quinn smiled. He loved the sound of her voice.
“I knew you’d show up sooner or later.” He answered, standing up from his bed and grabbing a shirt from the floor.
“Well, I have to make sure you keep yourself alive, don’t I?” (Y/N) giggled. She looked as beautiful as she always did, her sweater falling off her shoulders and her ripped jean shorts hugging her curves in just the right way. Two long french braids fell just past her shoulders. Her tan sandals scraped gently across the floor. She didn't like to wear heels. “They make me feel like a skyscraper Quinn, I’m too damn tall for them.” She always says. Quinn didn't realize he was staring until she finally said something.
“Earth to Quinton. Hello?” She called to him, waving her hands in front of his face. “I’m sorry what, I keep getting lost in you.” Did I just say that out loud? Shit. He thought to himself.
“What?” (Y/N) replied, blushing.
“Nothing. Just forget I said anything.” Quinn said, rushing out of the room into the kitchen.
“Wait! Don’t lie to me Quinn, what did you mean when you said that?” she said, following him.
She wasn’t sure of what she heard when he said it. It gave her a sense of false hope when he said it. Sometimes she wanted to scream out how much she loved him, but was afraid he didn’t feel the way she did. This was one of those times where she thought it to be true that maybe, just maybe, he loved her back. If she was honest, she loved him from the moment she met him. He was an idiot, but a lovable one. She never understood how anyone could stand to break his heart, even on the night they first met. Love, to her, was something that she once believed to be burning red. It ignites a fire in your heart, body, and soul, and burns for that one person. When she met Quinn, she wanted him to be that person more than anything. As they grew closer, she realized he was. But the love she held for him wasn’t the one she always dreamed of. It was different. It shone a bright golden hue, and encapsulated everything about him. (Y/N) was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Quinn’s voice.
“Can we please just forget that I said anything, (Y/N), please?” Quinn said, turning around to look at her. He began to walk away when she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. Looking up at him, she said softly, “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. You look at me like I’m the only other person on this earth. Don’t you realize that I look at you the same way too?” Quinn was processing what she just said to him, his heart beating a mile a minute. He glanced at their hands intertwined at the side. Neither of them let go. Finally he gained the courage to say something back.
Looking into her eyes, he confessed to her. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death. No, scratch that, I know I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the day I met you. I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you.” She didn’t say anything back. She wrapped her free hand around his neck and pulled his face down to her height and kissed him. It was exactly the way they both pictured it would be like. They kissed lasted for what seemed like an eternity, until they finally broke apart.
Their heads were pressed against each other, just looking into each other's eyes. (Y/N) was the first one to speak. “I’m yours.” That was all she needed to say for Quinn to know that she loved him too. And while he was sure of it, there was a part of him that hesitated.
“Are you sure about this? Like, are you sure about me?” He wondered aloud.
(Y/N) stared at him, confused. “I just confessed my love for you in the cheesiest and most embarrassing way possible and you’re asking me if I’m sure? Quinn, I know you’re not that dumb.”
Quinn laughed. “No, it’s just like, I know you love me. And I love you too, but like, I don’t want to fuck this up. I’m not really good at this kind of stuff” he confessed, not making eye contact with her out of embarrassment.
(Y/N) put her finger under his chin and pushed it up. “Hey, look at me. It’s me you’re talking to. You don’t have to try with me. Just being the way you are is enough. Love is weird. But the best part is when you get to love your best friend. And that’s us. You’ve just got to step into the daylight, you know? Let it all go. We can figure the rest out on our own. Just let it go.”
Quinn kissed her again. As he was getting older, he wanted to be defined by the things he loved. And he loved (Y/N). She’s his daylight, afterall.
tagging: @2manytabsopen @lam-ila @laurenairay @comphy-and-cozy @comphyjost @smileysvech @tinyhockey @prettytoxicrevolver @hotanddistraught
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snipetooth · 6 months
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Lee Christmas - "I'm Glad You're Home"
first fic on the blog wooo! this is for the expendables; i had to write the focus as being on lee for the perspective i wanted to tell so let me know if it works out or not from a reader's perspective! also shoutout to rebel-moons, he IS a cutie and i am now convinced that i have to watch the expendables 3 just for this scene. all my works are tagged with "#x reader" for quick filtering btw!
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Prompt: “[WONDER]: unable to comprehend how incredible the receiver is, the sender decides to simply cup their face in their hands and marvel at them instead.” from “Reasons to Cup a Face” by @.soulpromptson pairing: lee christmas x gn!reader words: 1.7k requested: no
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“Right, that’s it! I’m bailing on you fuckwads. Leaving this group forever. Cry and plead all you want, I’m done with you all.”
Shouts of protest immediately followed Lee’s words as he stood up. They were mostly along the lines of, “C’mon, Christmas, you only had to buy three rounds!” or “A real man would finish the game he started, not run out with his tail between his legs because he’s losing chips!” and “At least take a shower before you head back to your prettier half, you smell like you live in an abandoned sewer!”
Lee pried his knives out of the decorated board the group used for target practice, waving one about threateningly as he sheathed the others. “Y’better stow all that codswallop or I’ll really leave for good! Damn bastards, the lot of you, bleedin’ a poor man dry of all his finances with your rigged card games. There’s no reason why Gunnar should’ve won as much as he did, and you all know it!”
Gunnar made a show of ‘casually’ flexing his arms as he leaned back in his seat, Yin and Ceaser snickering to his left while Toll shook his head in silence to his right. “Can’t help being so good if all you’re gonna do is be shit at poker, Christmas,” he replied smugly before knocking back a beer and slamming it on the tabletop with a loud belch. “But maybe I’ll let you go without calling after your debt this time, just this once. I’m feeling generous tonight.”
“How kind of you,” Barney said dryly as he put away the whiskey glass he had been polishing, nodding to Lee as the man passed by. “You really should take a shower though. Can’t have you messing this one up just because you’re too lazy to get a little wet.”
The ground level of the hangout rang with laughter as Lee’s middle fingers disappeared around the corner to the bathrooms.
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The hum of his motorcycle drowned out the nightlife of the city, and Lee’s thoughts drowned out the motorcycle. His eyes caught a glimpse of the low-hanging moon between the rapidly shrinking buildings behind him, storm clouds threatening to blot out the source of light.
His thoughts drifted back to the last time he’d come home to a partner after an extended mission.
———
“Coming! Who is it?”
“You know, someday you’ll find a man who’ll be happy just to watch you sleep.”
Lee opened the screen door. Lacy quickly side-stepped through and shut it behind her. “Hi. I didn’t know you were back.” Lee tried to not let her lack of enthusiasm bother him. “Hey babe. Yeah, I just arrived.”
Lacy stayed firmly glued to the wall of the house. “Hey.”
“You look great.”
“I wish you would have called.”
Lee’s shoulders began to prickle uncomfortably. Years of combat had honed his attention to detail and body language, and something about her… everything was setting off alarm bells loud enough that he almost wondered if she could hear them. “Never been a good caller.”
“I haven’t heard from you in over a month,” Lacy pressed.
“Really?” Lee frowned. “Time flies, huh? Won’t happen again, sorry. But! I do have a surprise.” He held up a bottle of wine. “Rose-flavored, your favorite. And…” he fished around in his pocket briefly, “I did have something else for you.” 
Lee missed Lacy’s glance through the open front door. “It’s something I picked up from Burma.” Triumphantly, he pulled out a ring box, holding it open so that the item inside could catch the light better. “It’s a ruby. It’s a good color, but it’s hard to see in this light.” His brows knitted as he stared a little harder at the ring. “This… kind of looked a little shinier when I bought it in the shop, you know? I—”
“Lace! Everything alright?”
Time stopped. A loud, perpetual ring almost drowned out Lacy’s response as Lee leaned around her to look at the source of the new voice: “Yeah. H-he’s a friend.”
The imposing figure in the hallway scowled, chest puffed out. “Kind of late. You got a name?”
Lee couldn’t hide his contempt even if he wanted to as his eyes met with his now ex-girlfriend’s. A million excuses flashed to the surface of her face and instantly withered upon meeting his look. “Friend. She just told you.”
———
The ducati’s tires screeched painfully loud in the whispers of the night. The rain-soaked pavement reflected red as cars droned on before returning to green after a lull in traffic.
It had been four years since that night. Four years, three months, and twenty-one days, if one wanted to be picky about it. Just over three years of swearing off of relationships, of casual dating, of one-night stands, of people in general. Lee Christmas didn’t need a partner; he had The Expendables. His brothers were all he’d ever need.
Until you came along.
A smile fought and won under Lee’s helmet as he turned a corner. The one time he lets the guys take him to a more public bar to get drunk off their asses, and you’re sitting there at the counter thanking the bartender handing you a finished drink. You chat with someone to your left, the stool to your right almost painfully vacant.
A hearty slap to the space between his shoulder blades was all the encouragement he needed to fill the spot, and the rest was history, really.
He’d gone on several missions since he started dating you, but this one was definitely the longest so far. He had to go radio silent for several months as opposed to just a couple of weeks, and even with notice given in advance of this, paranoia drifted in like a deceptively soft mist early in the morn.
Would you still be in your apartment? Would there be a stranger in your kitchen? Would you try to hide any signs of infidelity, or would you confess to them right away out of guilt?
“Lee!”
He barely had time to swing a leg over his bike and turn to face you before you slammed into him, nearly knocking over the ducati in the process. “You’re home! You’re finally home! You smell really good, too; did you get a new soap?”
Just like mist at the first rays of the sunrise, all doubt dissipated into nothingness as Lee hugged you back with a pressure strong enough to risk cracking a few ribs. “Aw, and here I was thinkin’ you enjoyed the peace of me being gone,” he grinned, holding you back at arms’ length. “Can’t decide if I’m hurt that I’m wrong or touched that I am.”
You wrinkled your nose up at him. “Lee, you ass, of course I missed you! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been stuck to the window? Practically duct-taped myself to it.” You shrugged one of his hands off of you to grasp it, stumbling over the stairs leading up to your apartment in your haste. “Come on, I have something I want to show you!”
Lee’s vision was briefly spotty with gently twinkling lights in the warm, dim atmosphere of the apartment as you pulled him in. All around him the general mood had been adjusted for something akin to a romantic night in without the pressure of having to say ‘yes’ to anything should one or both parties simply want to go to bed; a couple of candles burned on shelves, thin strings of lights edging the ceiling and walls bathed the world in their soft glow, new throw blankets were strategically placed on the couch, and a simple but jointly beloved meal waited in the dining room. “When did you think to do all of this?” The mercenary breathed, one hand reaching to touch a light bulb no bigger than his thumb’s nail. “I didn’t tell you when I was coming home; I thought it was a surprise.”
A grin tugged at his mouth as he watched you fiddle with your hands, indecision plainly written on your face before quickly giving up. “Well,” you began slowly, “I… might know a little birdie. And that little birdie might have told me a few days ago that you were probably coming back today, and they might have also told me when you left. So. Sorry to ruin your surprise with my own..?”
All Lee could do was blink at you, really.
His last partner had cheated on him for feeling neglected. Invited another man into the house and had been having a relationship with him for god knows how long instead of just calling things off.
And here you were. A new partner. A new home. A new start.
You saw several months of no contact and decided that you should make one of his favorite dinners and ensured the apartment was as welcoming and calm as you possibly could make it.
“...Lee? Is all of this… okay?”
He blinked twice more. His hands subconsciously rose to cradle your face, the size of them near suffocating were he not careful. “It’s more than okay,” he breathed, enraptured by the reflection of your work in your eyes. “It’s damn perfect. Thank you. I….” Lee swallowed thickly. Words of vulnerability didn’t come easy to him; they never really have. “I love it. I love you.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “Thank you.”
Your own hands came up to lace together behind his neck, keeping him steady. “Of course. Figured you deserved to be spoiled a little yourself after all you’ve done for me and the way you’ve looked coming back after your work trips.” You tilted your head back, lips nearly brushing his as they moved to speak. “Though I’m not above rescinding all the spoiling I had planned this evening if you let the food get cold much longer. If you’re not careful, I’ll start valuing my cooking above you.”
Lee’s hearty laughed pealed comfortingly in the walls of your home as you both made your way to the table to enjoy your first dinner together in months. “I’ll be sure to watch myself, then. Can’t let myself be usurped by an inanimate object, now can I?”
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gvfmarge · 1 month
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Lighthouse of my Soul - Chapter One
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Hi everyone!
This is my very first multipart fic! I hope you enjoy it! I’m feeling a little underwhelmed with how this first chapter turned out. I want it to be more, so hopefully you’ll stick around! I’m hoping to grow my writing a with this fic and maybe get some feelings out while doing it. This is going to be a bit of a slow burner, so be gentle with me, I’m a baby!
(Ghost)Jake x Reader
Warnings: none? Some cussing, some slightly spooky stuff but not too much for now.
I’ve also never had a tag list, so if you’re interested in the next parts just let me know and I’ll tag you! Xoxoxoxo
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Were you running away? From what? It didn’t matter. You felt like you had finally reached your destination. You felt the ocean was your new beginning. The Outer Banks had always been your comfort place, growing up vacationing here was always your favorite. It felt like home every time you visited, so it was a no brainer when you had been offered a temporary position at the local newspaper in Hatteras. You felt that you were going to finally make something of yourself. All the hard work you had put into studying and writing was going to pay off. 
You had luckily stumbled upon a tiny cottage to rent. The owner explaining it had been built in 1874 and had weathered many storms and tribulations. It had originally been part of the life-saving station before they had built a newer building and eventually became the Coast Guard. The house had endured damage along the years from storms and each time had been repaired. When you stepped foot inside, you could feel the history. The floorboards squeaked with each step inside, taking a deep breath it smelled like sea salt and fresh air. Everything in the house was basically original. The dark hardwood floors showed signs of wear, with little scratches here and there and you could see the discoloration throughout the house where many footsteps had worn down the stain. The walls were fully covered in shiplap and had been sanded down and painted a beautiful light blue color. The kitchen was small, with only 3 overhead cabinets, a small older fridge and a stove. The living room was connected to the kitchen, you could barely see where the owners had taken out the wall to try and have somewhat of an open concept. Slowly inspecting each room, you came to realize just how small it was compared to the pictures you had viewed online. You realized you might not even have enough space for a couch and a table, but you would figure logistics out later. Walking up the steep rickety stairs you came upon a short hallway, at the end was a window stretching from the ceiling to the floor with an amazing view of the beach and ocean outside of the house, from the second floor it seemed you could see forever over the horizon. There are two bedrooms split by the hallway. Looking inside the room to your left, you noticed a small desk sitting underneath a window looking out to the ocean. On it, sat an empty white vase and a typewriter. It piqued your curiosity, the home came unfurnished and you were not made aware of anything left behind for you to use. 
Walking over to it, you sat down in the tiny wooden chair and ran your fingers over the vintage keys. As soon as your fingertips met with the cold metal, you felt electricity flow through your hand, up your arm and down your spine. Goosebumps rose over your skin and you quickly pulled your hand away. The shock and stress of moving must be getting to you, you thought. You gazed out the window taking in the ocean waves. You were finally alone, it felt peaceful but somehow, you felt a longing in the house. There was something that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. 
You felt a presence with you and quickly turned around to the entrance of the room. You could have sworn you felt eyes on you but there wasn’t a soul there. You slowly turned your body around again to face the window and your mind wondered back to the memories you had that led you here. Suddenly, a faint smell of tobacco burning filled the room. The sweet but heavy aroma seemed to swirl around your body. It was intoxicating but slightly overwhelming. You felt frozen for just a moment, not quite understanding what was happening. With another deep breath you slowly stood up and scanned the room for any sign of someone else. As quickly as the tobacco smell came, it was gone. You shrugged the smell off to the history of the cottage and made your way back downstairs to begin unpacking and making yourself finally feel at home. 
The sun had slowly crept through your first floor windows and shown brightly against the kitchen cabinets. You looked at the clock you had just hung on the wall to see that it was 6pm. You had worked for hours trying to unpack all of the boxes the moving company had just piled into your living area. Thankfully, the moving company had taken your mattress upstairs for you so you didn’t have to figure out how to lug it up the tight cornered stairs by yourself. Deciding it was best to take the empty bedroom, you asked them to place it under the window that overlooked the ocean. The bedrooms were narrow, with only about two feet of space between both sides of the mattress and the walls. At the other end of the room was a built in closet that was actually a nice size considering how small the whole house was. The door opened up beside the closet, so there was really no other option for your bed. You were not a fan for your bed to be facing the door or the closet, but it would have to work. 
 Boxes on top of boxes had somehow dwindled down to a select few that you didn’t know what to do with. As you carefully climbed the steep stairs with box in tow, you felt just how tired your legs really were. You had climbed these stairs at least a thousand times today just trying to get everything in your desired spot. You had been avoiding the typewriter room. It just felt odd to you and you really had no use for it now, so deciding to use it as storage for now, you slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open with the cardboard box and peaked inside. No one, just the lonely typewriter. There was such a sadness in the room and you didn’t know how. There was no explanation but you understood with old houses came a lengthy wrap sheet of history inside the walls. You finished bringing the random boxes into the room to go through later. Slowly exiting the room, you once again felt goosebumps raise across your skin. You quickly slammed the bedroom door shut and almost ran down the stairs. 
“You’re just imagining things, it’s an old house. You’ve watched too many scary movies.” Scoffing to yourself. You turned to the front door which was from top to bottom glass and stared out to the ocean. You felt such a connection. There was just something special about the ocean. It always made you feel whole, even as a child when you didn’t know you were missing something, you knew it was to be in awe of. 
You made a mental note to buy curtains to place over the front and back doors to keep your privacy. The two doors mirrored each other in the house, you could walk a straight line from the front door to the back door and see right through both doors of glass. 
That night you sat in the floor of your living room, using an empty cardboard box as your coffee table to eat the pizza you had ordered in off of. Thankfully you did have a TV, so there would be a little bit of entertainment to keep you occupied before you started your new position on Monday.  
After watching what seemed like hours of trash TV, you decided to tuck yourself in for the first night in your new home. Brushing your teeth and doing your skincare in the only bathroom downstairs, you stared at yourself in the mirror. “Am I actually doing this? Is this actually real?” Your mind was spinning miles a minute and you hoped you would be able to turn it off enough to get a little rest. The first night in new homes never seems to go smoothly. You either can’t sleep because it’s too quiet or the ceiling fan is too loud, or the room is too hot or too cold. You were nervous for what you would find when you made your way upstairs in the darkness. You huffed when you realized the owners hadn’t thought of putting a light in the stairway when they remodeled the house, so you had to use your senses to make sure you didn’t fall tumbling down to the bottom. 
At the top of the stairs, you sped walked to get inside your bedroom and practically slammed your bedroom door shut. “What are you so afraid of.” You laughed at yourself. This would be a long summer if you couldn’t get it together. Crawling into bed, really just your mattress on the floor, you turned the switch of the lamp off and faced the window that was on the left side of the bed. You could only see the stars and the moon through the window panes, you stared for what seemed like minutes until your entire bedroom was suddenly lit up with a bright white light. You shot up in bed and stared. “What the hell” is all you could say. Until a few seconds later, your bedroom was lit up like the Fourth of July again. “There’s no fucking way, are you serious.” You hadn’t realized on the drive here or even unpacking your things, that Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was literally in your back yard. The lighthouse was close enough to shine its light through your bedroom window and make you feel like you just got busted for drugs by the police. The lighthouse’s light rotation takes about 7 seconds, which is more than aggravating when you’re trying to sleep. You flipped your body over like you were trying to slam through the floor and groaned. “Of course, I would get stuck with a creepy old house and the lighthouse in my backyard.” You grumbled. After calming down, sleep finally found you and you more than gladly welcomed the darkness. 
How long had you been asleep? You picked up your phone and the time read 3am. You huffed out another long sigh. Your bladder felt like it was going to explode. There was no falling asleep like this or you would most definitely wet the bed. You laid there for a few moments until you felt like you could brave the dark house in the middle of the night. Of course the only bathroom was downstairs. Why wouldn’t it be? 
You turned your bedside lamp on and rolled out onto your feet. Creeping down the dark stairs with only your phones flashlight, you didn’t sense anything. Everything felt calm to your surprise. There was no uneasiness and you didn’t feel like the devil himself would pop out around the corner. You finished your business quickly and started the ascent back up to your room. On the fourth or fifth step up, a rhythmic sound stopped you in your tracks. You stood silent and as still as a statue, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your toes. Your ears became hot as you realized what the sound was. The vintage typewriter. You were frozen. Even if you wanted to turn around and bust your way out the front door and squeal like a baby all the way back home, your body wouldn’t let you. Your feet felt like they had been cemented to the step.
Suddenly the bell of the typewriter rang out in the upstairs bedroom and the keys were being pressed in a quick but precise fashion. The person using the typewriter knew what they were doing and they seemed to be in a hurry to write whatever they were writing. You heard the paper being ripped out of the roller. Silence. No foot steps, no more typing, nothing but the ocean waves outside. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself on the wall of the staircase. Did you imagine all of it? Are you still just half asleep and dreamed it? Are you actually going insane? Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and turning black, the world felt like it was swirling around your head and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut to try and stop the uneasy feeling. 
When you opened them, you were staring at your wooden bedroom ceiling. You followed the grooves of the shiplap until your eyes met the window you had been looking out to see the lighthouse light. The sun was warming your face and the brightness almost seemed too bright. You scrambled around your comforter to find your phone, which showed 8:45am. 
“There’s no possible way that’s right.” You quickly googled the time and realized it was correct. You had somehow blacked out on the stairs and made it into bed? How? Your mind was racing with confusion and then you remembered, the typewriter. 
You quickly opened up the text thread with your landlady and hit the call button. Hearing the ringing tone you couldn’t even conjure up what you were about to say. Were you just giving up? Was this going to break you? 
“Hello?” The sweet lady answered in a joyful tone. “Hi Mrs. Hartley, did you accidentally leave a typewriter and desk in one of the bedrooms upstairs?” 
There was silence on the other end of the line and you were becoming more and more anxious the longer she took to respond. “No honey, I didn’t leave anything in the house. It has been empty for over a year now.” She quietly answered in her sweet but concerned tone. “Is everything okay?” 
“Yes, yes. No worries at all. I had a great first night here. Thank you so much again!” You hit the red button before she could even think of a reply. 
You looked up to your bedroom door that was wide open and felt the goosebumps rise once again down your spine. What the actual fuck is happening here? 
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yeonjunszn · 1 year
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like hot summer ☼
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pairing park sunghoon x f!reader
word count 8k
genres fluff﹒slight angst ﹒smut
warnings 18+ minors dni, mature language, best friends to lovers trope, sharing a bed/room trope, insufferable heeseung + slightly less insufferable jake, features enha jay, txt beomgyu, taehyun, and huening + skz jeongin, also features nct dream, i’m so sorry for doing u so dirty jisung 💔, mentions of alcohol, hoon is kinda mean for like a singular second, vaginal fingering, marking?, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it 😒), finishing inside, Lots of Kissing, they’re kinda gross at the end like i made myself mad with how cute they were being so of course i had to ruin it… u’ll see 😇
summary you’ve been best friends for years now, so why does the idea of sharing a room with him get you so flustered?
more HAPPY 900 FOLLOWERS!! thank u guys so much for giving me this platform to write even if it is for boys who have no idea i exist 😭 writing has always been something very dear to me since a young age and i’m so grateful for being able to get this far on this site. i’ve had an issue with reach in the past and this blog has been nothing but kind to me. i’m forever indebted to all of u and my future followers 🫶 here’s a small token of my appreciation — i havent written anything nsfw since ? march ? i believe 💀 so i apologize if this is rough.. it was originally a vernon fic before i decided not to write for svt anymore and i actually started it in july 😭😭 which is why it’s another summer based fic LMFAOAOAO anyways it was supposed to be like 5k and i got carried away so here u go <3
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“please do not take those with you.”
you look up from the suitcase you were stuffing clothes in, a pair of your most comfortable underwear currently in your hands. heeseung gives you a dissatisfied look, standing from his spot in your desk chair to snatch them and throw the garment behind him.
“okay? what the hell?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“we’re going on a trip where you’ll most likely be meeting new people. i don’t think you want to be dressed like a grandma when you do.” he explains with an eye roll, as if it was obvious.
“first of all, rude, they’re cute. second of all, i don’t plan on sleeping around,” you frown, glancing behind him at your poor underwear on the floor. “i should’ve just asked hoon to help me pack. you suck.”
“i’m pretty sure he’d also tell you to ditch the granny-panties.” he shrugs, sitting back on the rolling chair.
“n-no! i wouldn’t have even let him see me packing my undergarments.” you say defensively.
“you’ve been best friends this long and he’s never seen your underwear at least once? what makes me so special.” the brunette snorts.
“you’re… you.”
he gasps in feign offense, slapping his chest. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“don’t take it personally! i’d probably let jake see my underwear too,” you defend your words, rifling through your clothes to make sure everything you needed was good to go. when you glance up at heeseung, he has a grimace on his face and you realize what you just said. “stop it! i meant because i see you both like brothers, so it wouldn’t be weird.”
“there are two things to be discussed here; one being the fact that you’d let bitchless, has never felt the touch of a woman in his life, jake sim, see your underwear— even if you think of him as a brother. and two being the fact that sunghoon is somehow different despite knowing him the same amount of time as us.” he raises an eyebrow as you turn to your dresser in search for a pair of replacement panties, since he so graciously tossed aside your favorites, then zip your suitcase shut.
with a grunt, you lug the thing off your bed, checking your appearance in the mirror since you were getting picked up soon. you peek over your shoulder at the brunette, narrowing your eyes. “i hope you know that you’re the absolute bane of my existence, lee heeseung.”
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a couple hours later you find yourself sipping on a margarita, poolside at the airbnb you and your friends were renting. the beach was within walking distance, but you didn’t feel like going so you stayed back by yourself. you didn’t mind it at all, because it was probably the only chance you’d get to be alone in a house full of boys.
nine of you crammed into a single house was not ideal, especially considering you were the only girl in your group, but you planned this trip every year. loud, gross, and annoying antics aside, you loved them more than anything. (except maybe when they asked you to set any of them up with one of your girl friends.)
you also felt like you needed a bit of reprieve before you called it a night, since you weren’t given the privilege of your own room this time. all of you made the grave mistake of putting beomgyu in charge of booking the airbnb and his dumbass forgot until about a month ago, when he scrambled to find something within everyone’s standards and big enough to accommodate your large party. and while he was able to secure something, it did mean you’d have to have a roommate.
everyone agreed that it’d be okay if it was just you and one other person to respect your boundaries. rooming arrangements varied from year to year depending on how you decided, but this was the first time you were included. the boys got straight into it the moment you all set foot on the property, arguing in the front yard while you figured out how to work the keypad on the door. due to your ignorance to their shenanigans, you didn’t know who your temporary roommate was until the whole ordeal was a done deal.
before anything was set in stone, there was a unanimous choice to give you and whoever you ended up with the master bedroom, because none of them wanted you biting their heads off for hogging the bathroom. in the first room (the one next to the master), was heeseung, beomgyu, and jeongin, delegated by a game of rock paper scissors. by some miracle or just sheer dumb luck, the three idiots wound up together and celebrated by hugging in a circle and jumping around like elementary schoolers. the second room went to jay, jake, taehyun, and kai. this left one person— park sunghoon.
had you participated in the actual game, you would’ve started a riot to switch roommates. hell, you’d even share a room with jake, and that said everything about how you were feeling towards this situation.
it’s not that you didn’t want to room with sunghoon, per se, it was more like you were afraid to room with him. he was decently calm and an easy person to get along with for the most part. except his ability to tease you in any situation lit a fire under you. his jokes that would seem belittling to anyone else felt flirty and it drove you crazy. all of the guys in your friend group were good looking, but you always found yourself gravitating more towards sunghoon. (besides, you could never in a million years see yourself making out with someone like taehyun; who you thought was quite honestly prettier than you or beomgyu; who enjoyed personally talking your ear off every opportunity he got.)
when the boys finally come back from the beach, the sun has set and you, yourself, had just returned from picking up dinner. the nine of you ate with comfortable conversation here and there, exhausted from the long day you just had, before drawing the evening to a close.
you feel awkward trudging up the stairs to your room with sunghoon in tow, like if you say the wrong thing you’ll alter the entire course of your friendship. he tells you that you can shower first and so you do, but halfway through, you realize you forgot to grab you clothes on the way in. you curse at yourself as you rinse your body wash, switching off the water.
you wrap your towel around yourself timidly, well aware that it’s the only thing stopping sunghoon from seeing your bare body. with a gulp, you reach for the door handle, pushing it open slowly. he’s sat on the edge of the bed scrolling through his phone, uninformed of your presence. you kneel down to your suitcase to quickly grab what you need so you can rush back into the bathroom and change, but the universe hates you and doesn’t think it should be that easy.
“shit shit shit shit,”
you frantically sift through your clothes after getting your undergarments, only for your pajamas to be missing. you remember packing them and you know heeseung was there when you—
you were going to murder lee heeseung.
fuck him and his overt desire to make your life a living hell. first there was the underwear thing and now this. did he not think your care bear pajamas were cute enough to bring on this trip? either way, you couldn’t wait to strangle him, your fingers wiggling in anticipation.
“hey, is everything okay?” sunghoon’s voice calls out, pulling you away from your nefarious plotting. your eyes widen almost comically because you’re still very much naked under your towel and you don’t have clothes to sleep in.
“uh— i— i think i forgot to pack— i mean— i can’t find my pajamas.” you admit shamefully, too embarrassed to look up at him.
the bed creaks lightly, notifying you that he got up. you stand from your crouched position, careful not to accidentally flash him. he rummages through his own suitcase, spinning around to toss a t-shirt at you. you catch it with your free hand and your cheeks are still impossibly warm. you’re not sure if your mind is playing tricks on you, or if he really did rake his vision over your figure.
your heart is racing mortifyingly fast so you give him a tight lipped smile and raise your hand in thanks, bringing it back down just as fast when you think about the fact that you were holding your underwear in the same hand.
you think that’s the fastest you’ve ever run away from something, leaning back against the door while pressing the back of your palm to your forehead, your chest heaving. confidence wasn’t a weakness to you and it pissed you off to no end that it seemed to be only when sunghoon was around that you acted like a complete clown.
there was no chance of you surviving this trip.
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the following day, you and the boys had gone out for an early lunch. because you were such a big group, they split you into two different tables. yours consisted of jake, heeseung, beomgyu, and jeongin. the entire time you kept your glare on the brunette sitting directly across from you, even as you shoveled rice into your mouth.
“woah, y/n. if looks could kill, hee would be dead by now.” jake laughs, pointing at you with his chopsticks.
“good,” you say flatly. “that’s what i want.”
heeseung looks thoroughly offended by your statement, clicking his tongue in response. “i don’t know why you hate me so much.”
“oh really?” you ask with a small scoff, sarcasm leaking through your words.
“what’d he do?” beomgyu snorts, flicking his eyes between you and heeseung curiously.
you don’t take your eyes off of the latter, rather you give him an even harsher stare than before. you squint slightly, crossing your legs and leaning back into your chair. “he was with me when i was packing my clothes yesterday and when i went to change after i got out of the shower last night, my pajamas were missing. and i swear i packed them. i even double checked my suitcase.”
jeongin purses his lips and raises his eyebrows. “the care bear pajamas?”
“the care bear pajamas!” you exclaim.
“wow, heeseung, it’s like you’re asking to be suffocated with a pillow in your sleep.”
“that was such an oddly specific cause of death.”
“wait a damn minute! how do you even know it was me? why are you just assuming shit like that?” he defends, picking up his hands like he’s innocent of all crimes. jake holds back a laugh at his reaction and jeongin gives him a deadpan expression.
“why are you being so defensive about it? clearly that means it was you.”
“i agree! i know this is apart of his stupid ‘get-y/n-laid’ agenda. what if i don’t wanna get laid?!” you flail your arms exasperatedly.
beomgyu holds up a finger to halt you, scrunching his eyebrows together. “everyone wants to get laid. you’re no exception.”
you narrow your gaze at him as if to say ‘not helping’ and he shuts up, squeezing his lips together. if there was anything he could’ve said in that moment, that was not it. especially not when you were trying to prove your case. you were an independent woman! you didn’t need to sleep around if you didn’t want to! (you did, with a specific person, but that's besides the point.)
“so what’d you end up wearing to sleep?” jeongin asks, resting his chin in his palm before gasping. “wow, n/n, sunghoon got to see you half naked?”
“no! he lent me a shirt!” you dispute frantically.
“boring,” jake drags out the o. “i think i have an extra you can borrow for tonight if you don’t wanna wear that one again.”
“please, you’re a lifesaver, jake,” you clasp your hands together. “unlike someone by the name of lee heeseung, who’s currently on my hit list. you better sleep with one eye open by the way.”
“could you be a little quiet with it though? i share a room with him.” beomgyu throws in.
“don’t worry, gyu. i've been googling different ways that would be silent, quick, and successful.” you fist bump him, before resuming your eating.
“i don’t get why you’re not groveling at my feet and thanking me right now. i did you a favor, you know,” heeseung huffs, his words slightly muffled by the food filling his mouth. “you get to keep his shirt and sleep in the same bed as him. isn’t that a win?”
“i don’t like him like that, seung.” you say a bit harsher than you intended. the table grows quiet at your outburst, even if they all speculate that you’re lying. the silence causes the other table to look over in concern.
whether you’re just extremely unlucky, or the gods actually think you’re a waste of a human being, you don’t know, but things keep screwing up in your favor. you make accidental eye contact with sunghoon, whose lips are slightly turned downward when he sees how distressed you appear.
it pisses you off.
it pisses you off because all you want to do is kiss those same lips until you can’t breathe. you want him to press them all over your skin, making you hot and bothered. you want him to whisper sweet sweet nothings into your ear and pepper little smooches along the shell of it with them. it pisses you off because you know he doesn’t feel the same.
and it’s so fucking annoying.
you’re probably the only girl he’d never see that way, thanks to the long history you share. you’ll always be another one of the guys to him. you’re someone he knows will be there for him to fall back on when a talking stage fails. you’re someone he knows will sit there and listen to his tales of how he got his dick wet, listen to his bragging.
it should deter your feelings, honestly. not only due to the fact that you have no chance with him, but because he was your best friend. you shouldn’t be mad at him for treating you as such. except you can’t help that you are.
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after lunch, the group decided you might as well have another beach day, seeing as it was within walking distance from the airbnb. since you weren’t much of a beach fan (you hated the salty air and, even worse, the sand), the boys allowed you to pick the activity for the night.
there was a club you passed by on your way back from the restaurant that looked intriguing, so that was what you landed on.
you watched your friends mess around by the water as you stayed planted on a beach towel under an umbrella, sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose. your body weight rested on your palms as you leaned back, soaking up the warmth on your skin. your cute white, shimmery bikini was a head turner, guys staring as they walked by you, ogling at your sunbathing.
you half hoped someone would just go up to you instead of drooling from afar, but at the same time, the thought of a stranger approaching you made you nervous. though, it would provide a decent distraction.
you try to act surprised when someone finally takes the bait.
he’s an attractive guy, you’ll admit, with dark hair that falls onto his forehead, slightly in his eyes which are also obscured by a pair of sunglasses. he ruffles it a bit before dropping himself on the sand beside you. he doesn’t talk for a few minutes, just copying your actions.
a small smile makes way onto your lips at his nonchalance and you turn to face him, pushing your shades up on top of your head. he does the same, giving you his own smile. now that you have a full view of his features, you can 100% say that he’s indeed handsome.
with an extended hand, he says, “hi, i’m park jisung.”
you return the gesture, shaking it with a firm grip. “l/n y/n.”
“wow, pretty name for a pretty girl. your parents must’ve known what they were doing.” he flirts with a laugh, almost like it’s second nature for him.
you can’t hide how bashful the compliment makes you, a tiny giggle bubbling from your chest. the bikini gave you a confidence boost when you put it on, but despite that, you were still you. so hearing little things like that always made you shy, especially because you weren’t used to it. how could you? being friends with a bunch of boys and all, guys never really cared to look in your direction.
“do you say that to every girl you meet, park jisung?” you manage to tease back, proud of yourself for recovering so quickly.
his smile morphs into a grin, his teeth peeking through his lips, and his eyes crinkle at the sides. “nope. just the really pretty ones.”
you tilt your chin into your shoulder as you feel heat spread across your cheeks. how was this guy so smooth? it’s like he knew exactly what you wanted/needed to hear and kept saying it.
when you compose yourself, you continue your conversation with jisung. it’s comfortable, even if you’d never met him before today, and it feels like you’ve known him for a while. you learn that he’s also on a trip with his friends, the six of them stationed just a few umbrellas over to your left. (he groans when you catch them spying on the two of you.) then he tells you that he noticed you earlier and his friends had finally convinced him to shoot his shot.
“you know, if you’d come up to me sooner, i would’ve been a lot less bored,” you sigh, scooting a little closer to him. “my friends have been ignoring me since we got here and i fucking hate the beach.”
he chuckles at that, subtly brushing his fingers against yours. “sorry about that. i guess you’re glad i saved the day, huh?”
“very,” you link your pinkie with his. “so, we’re going out later tonight to some club called allure? i think? it’d be really cool if you went, just saying. you can bring your friends.”
“that sounds like fun. maybe you’ll see us there,” he shrugs, nudging your foot with his. “depends on how bad you wanna see me.”
“nooo, don’t do me like that, jisung,” you whine halfheartedly, covering your face with your free hand. “i would like to see you there, but i don’t wanna beg.”
jisung laughs at how cute you are, poking your cheek with a nod. “okay okay, you convinced me. i’ll tell the guys.”
“okay, cool.” you breathe, tangling your fingers with his as you both stare at each other goofily. you almost lean in, the gap between you only disrupted by a centimeter, but then a throat clears itself and you jump apart.
it seemed that the guys all finally noticed you weren’t alone and decided to pay attention to you. you make eye contact with sunghoon and feel a shudder run down your spine, trying your hardest to conceal it.
“hey, y/n, who’s this?” he asks, albeit passively.
“oh, this is jisung. him and his friends are gonna meet us at the club tonight!” you give him a tight lipped smile, glancing over to gauge jisung’s reaction. he doesn’t look too fazed by their presence, instead standing up so he could introduce himself to each of them.
you sputter at the action, surprised that he was so willing to be buddy-buddy with the boys. you assume it’s because he isn’t too intimidated by them, considering they’d been ignorant toward your presence until now.
after he’s done, he turns to you and puffs his cheeks, blowing air between his lips. “i guess i better get going. i’ll see you later?”
“mhm,” you rub his arm. “see you tonight, ji.”
the nickname makes him grin and he ruffles your hair before bidding you all a goodbye. your eyes follow as he walks over to his friends, who are fist bumping in celebration of his success with you. your smile doesn’t go away as you look back at your own friends.
jake jumps up and down, shaking you aggressively by the shoulders. “y/n, holy shit! rizz master or what?”
beomgyu and jeongin burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, falling into each other as you roll your eyes. jake would be the one to use such a gen z term at his age. “please never call me that again.”
“well jakey, looks like she won’t need your shirt tonight after all. chances are she’ll use jisung’s instead.” heeseung jokes, smacking your arm playfully.
you cover your face with both hands to shelter how embarrassed they’re making you feel. rule number one for being best friends with a bunch of boys— don’t. they’re nothing but menaces. and if you happen to acquire a friend group of just males— don’t let them meet your significant other.
as you wrap up your day at the beach, so you could head back to the airbnb to get ready for your night out, you realize sunghoon is keeping to himself a lot. and you don’t know what to make of that.
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you feel like a million bucks if you’re being completely honest with yourself. you packed one of the nicest dresses you owned in case you needed it and you were so glad you did. it would’ve been awkward rolling up to the club in shorts and a bikini top— though you’re sure management has probably seen that before.
it was gold and sparkly, with spaghetti straps and a lace-up back, low cut enough that it was cute rather than overly revealing. you styled your hair to preference and kept the makeup simple, soft glam that didn’t distract from the outfit. this was the prettiest you felt in weeks— months even— and it was a comforting change of pace.
when you step out of the bathroom, sunghoon is laying on his back on the bed, scrolling through his phone. the sound of your heels clacking on the wooden floor forces him to sit up. “how long does it take to—?”
his words die out once he sees you, his throat going dry and his stomach tightening with an incessant knot. you look so gorgeous, it almost makes him angry that it’s not for him. never in your seven years of friendship has he ever seen you put this much effort in your appearance. (he thinks that’s why he feels himself getting worked up.)
“woah, missy, you’re not leaving the house looking like that. where’s your coat?” he raises an eyebrow, masking the icky feeling brewing inside of him.
“hoon, it’s like a hundred degrees out. we’re in the middle of a heatwave at the peak of the summer, the fuck do i need a coat for?” you counter with a scoff, shoving your phone and some lip gloss along with your credit card and ID in the little clutch you were taking with you.
“i’m just saying,” he shrugs. “you’re practically wearing a piece of cloth, you might get cold.”
“shut up, i’ll be fine.” you snort, exiting the room and leaving him scrambling for control of himself.
the rest of the guys are already waiting downstairs, whistling and hollering once you reach the bottom of the steps. jake tells you to do a little twirl, cheering you on like he was best friends with bella hadid or something. (you won't admit that it fuels your ego.)
“where’s sunghoon?” jay asks crouching to see if he was visible from where he was standing.
“i don’t know, but he’s being weird. my vote is we leave without him.” taehyun holds up a finger, pursing his lips as if he was being totally serious about his suggestion. you laugh at his expression, flicking his forehead.
“don’t be mean, tyun.”
a couple minutes later, sunghoon finally makes his way downstairs, looking conflicted about something. as much as you wanna ask, you know you shouldn’t get into it right now, so you choose not to.
jisung and his group are already at the club when you arrive and he waves you over to the high tables they secured. he introduces you to his six friends; mark, renjun, jeno, donghyuck, jaemin, and chenle. once you’ve met them, the two of you introduce your own friends to each other. it makes you happy that they seem to hit it off, breaking off into smaller cliques.
you and jisung wander off to the bar, ordering some drinks for yourselves. he helps you sit at one of the stools, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back. it doesn’t take long for the bartender to hand you your poison for the night and you take a gulp with a wince, letting the alcohol burn in its course down your throat.
“you look really good, by the way,” jisung compliments, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin that peeks through the straps in the back of your dress. “i didn’t get to tell you when you got here.”
his mouth brushes your ear as he speaks so you can hear him over the booming top forties music playing. there’s not nearly enough alcohol in your system to warrant the heat blooming under your skin so soon. you just giggle in response, spinning in your chair so you’re facing him. you hold your straw between two fingers as you sip at your beverage, looking up at him through thick lashes coated in mascara.
“you’re really something else, y/n,” he shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink before you return to your friends. “i’m gonna use the restroom, i’ll be right back.”
you nod with a smile when he pets your head, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. it catches you off guard, but you don’t mind it one bit. at least someone was interested in you for once.
heeseung squeezes his way through the crowd to you and narrows his eyes, taking a hold of either side of your head. your cheeks squish together and your lips form a pout, so no matter how annoyed you try to come across, you just look silly. your attempts to get him off of you are futile, making you raise a brow to find out why he was being so touchy-feely.
“i still cannot believe you managed to make moves while you were alone. i literally never saw this coming.”
god, lee heeseung was such a lightweight.
“can you stop being sentimental? it’s kinda gross.” you grimace, your words mushed together much like your cheeks. it’s at this point that jake decides to join in, throwing his arms around your shoulders.
(jake sim was also a lightweight.)
“i love you guys! i’m so glad we’re here together right now!”
you spot jisung coming back from the restroom, pleading for him to save you with your eyes. he laughs and inserts himself in the conversation. “i appreciate you guys watching over y/n for me while i was gone, but do you think i can steal her back?”
“i guess,” jake sighs dramatically, dragging out the s. “but you better bring her back in one piece, park.”
jisung salutes to the brunette, even if he wasn’t at all intimidated by his overprotective parent persona, and whisks you away to get more drinks and then to hit the dance floor. the moment your foot reaches the tiled ground, a summer walker song starts, and all coherent thoughts leave your mind.
you keep one arm wrapped around jisung’s neck as you begin to sway your hips with the music, taking swigs of your drink every now and then. his is long forgotten in favor of gripping your waist like you’d run away any second. you have him wrapped around your finger, the way he’s fixated on you and your movements has your head spinning. but when you glance towards the general direction all of your friends were in, you accidentally make eye contact with none other than park sunghoon.
he’s glaring right at you, making no attempt to hide the distaste on his features while he watches you dance. you keep the eye contact when jisung leans into your neck, his nose grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.
usually you’d fold then and there, crumbling in his hands and letting him take you home for the night. but there’s something about the darkness in sunghoon’s gaze that sends a shiver down your spine, not the person you were currently grinding into on the dance floor. it sends your mind into a frenzy.
your blissful ignorance to the amount of attraction you truly felt for him was causing more problems than solving them. here you were, a nice guy treating you like an absolute princess, but still thirsting after one of your best friends with not a single ounce of fucking shame. years of pent up frustration and insufferable pining bubble over, and you don’t stop yourself from what you’re about to do next.
you pull back from jisung, finally breaking the staring contest between you and sunghoon, and smile at him, pushing some hair out of his eyes. he gives you a look of utter confusion and you huff. “i’m sorry, but i’m feeling a little tired. i think the drinks are getting to me.”
“do you want me to drop you off at your place?” he asks, so sweetly it actually makes you feel bad about your true intentions. you shake your head ‘no’.
“it’s okay, you can stay here with your friends. i’ll just ask one of the boys,” you respond, patting his cheek. “one of the sober ones.”
“alright, if you insist. just be careful and text me later, yeah?” he gives you that award winning grin that made you weak at the knees just moments ago. this time you don’t give him a verbal response, too afraid of your voice betraying you.
you still don’t say anything as you grab your clutch from the table where your group was at, flickering your vision to sunghoon once before you walk out of the club. the air is cooler than this afternoon, serving as a nice contrast to your warm, sticky skin. your ears are still ringing from the blaring music and you’re pleasantly buzzed, but you feel great.
the sound inside the club travels outside for a second when the door opens and closes, signaling that someone had just walked out. you don’t want to risk the backwards glance in case it’s not who you’re hoping it is and you feel dumb. you opt to stare at the cars passing on the street, hugging yourself.
there’s the ghost of a touch on the small of your back and a broad chest pressed to your shoulders, causing you to jump slightly. “ditched that dude finally?”
you swallow thickly, his deep voice reverberating in your bones. “and if i did?”
sunghoon chuckles, his fingers dancing around the knot of your dress. “then i won’t have to feel like an asshole for what i’m about to do to you.”
you squeak as he starts to push you in the direction of the airbnb, your feet carrying you as fast as you can with your heels. the walk is silent except for the clicking against the concrete sidewalk, but it’s heavy with tension. half of you wants to say something, to ask what’s even happening. you don’t even realize he’s punching the numbers into the keypad and pulling you into the house until you’re pinned to the shut door, nose skimming yours.
sunghoon has a desperate grip around your wrists, breathing like he’d just ran a marathon. you stare up at him with wide eyes. you’re not entirely sure what you were hoping for when you executed this plan, but this wasn’t anywhere near the list of outcomes. in fact, you were positive that park sunghoon didn’t feel any sort of attraction to you.
“hoon,” you gasp, tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
he grins, his canines peeking through those lips of his that looked so soft. “you look so pretty tonight, n/n. can’t believe i get to have you all to myself.”
your head feels empty, like there’s nothing but cotton filling your skull where your brain should be. this was something out of a dream for you, something you’d only ever seen in your darkest fantasies. you wanted him to kiss you so badly it was beginning to ache. your head tilts to the side just a bit, your eyes alternating between his mouth and his own.
“need you,” you whisper, voice airy. “‘ve been waiting for this for so long.”
he connects your lips at that, a burning fever behind his actions as he does so. the dizziness doesn’t go away, instead amplifying. he releases your wrists in favor of grabbing at your thighs, his blunt nails digging into the plush skin. you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at the silky strands, forcing a groan out of him. kissing sunghoon is sickening. it’s exactly how they describe it in books, the stomach churning and the goosebumps and all. this morning, you never would’ve thought you’d be here, but you’re completely satisfied with this turn of events.
“bedroom,” he breathes. “don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.”
he doesn’t have to tell you twice, your heels discarded at the bottom of the stairs. the minute you’re in your shared room, his mouth is hot on yours again and you’re collapsing on to the bed. his hands are everywhere and there’s too many clothes between you. you slide your hands under his shirt, grazing your nails along his abdomen, smiling when it tenses under your touch. he gets the memo, removing his shirt and tossing it haphazardly behind him. you fumble with the button of his jeans and he laughs at how needy you are, solidifying just how real this moment actually is.
you notice that he’s already hard once his pants are gone and you palm his bulge as you lean back in for another kiss. he sighs into your mouth, reaching around your back to untie the knot on your dress. the straps fall instantaneously, the front of the fabric slipping down to reveal your bare chest. sunghoon’s lips move from yours to your jaw and along the column of your neck until he’s at your chest, looking up at you as he leaves open mouthed kisses all over your tits. you moan softly when the warmth of his mouth envelopes a sensitive nipple, slipping your dress off all the way so you’re left in nothing but your panties.
he steps back for a second to kick the article of clothing away, before caging your body with his. “i’ve been wanting to get you out of that dress all night. it pissed me off that you didn’t put it on for me, but he doesn’t get to see you all fucked out untouched, now does he?”
you shake your head, but that doesn’t satisfy him. his thumb finds your clit through the thin material of your underwear, rubbing tight circles into it to get a reaction from you. your lips part and your eyes squeeze shut, but it’s not enough for him. he grabs your chin a little forcefully, smushing your cheeks together like heeseung did earlier— however there was nothing wholesome about this moment.
“i asked you a fucking question.” sunghoon all but growls.
“n-no, hoon. only you,” you whimper, his mean demeanor turning you on even more. you’re embarrassed by the wet patch forming on the front of your panties and deep deep down you’re thanking lee heeseung for throwing the other pair out of your suitcase. (very very very deep down— you’d never give him the benefit of being right.)
“that’s my good girl,” he hooks his fingers into the waistband, glancing at you for confirmation. “are we really going through with this? you can back out now.”
your heart thumps disgustingly loud in your ears at how sincere he sounds and you pray to god that he can’t hear it. “sunghoon, i’m laying half naked in front of you right now— if you don’t fuck me—”
“alright alright… you got it,” he laughs that cute laugh of his, the one he reserves solely for you. the one that has crows feet forming at the corners of his eyes. it drives you crazier than anything else he’s done the entire night.
sunghoon slides your underwear down your legs with one hand, the other propping himself up to hover over you. you kick them off, biting your lip and hissing when he decides to run a finger up your slit. he curses as he watches how your arousal coats the digit. all you’ve done is kiss and you’re dripping.
“you’re soaked, baby,” he practically groans, pecking your jaw. “gonna ruin your pussy so you know who you belong to.”
you whine when he thrusts a finger in without warning, quickly adding a second and massaging your swollen clit with the pad of his thumb. your head rolls back as moans and expletives spill from your mouth. sunghoon takes the opportunity to mark you as his, sucking and biting your neck and chest like he was a leech, ensuring bruises formed in his wake. he finds the sweet spot at your pulse point, curling his fingers at the same time he nips at it.
“f-fuck, right th-there, hoonie,” you mewl, instinctively spreading your legs wider.
at this rate, you don’t think you’ll last much longer.
you know he can tell too with the way he speeds up the pace of his fingers. you clench around them and he connects your lips once again, his tongue tangling with yours messily. it’s so sloppy and so aggressive, but it’s perfect. it’s so sunghoon.
he keeps working at you, kissing everywhere he can until he pushes the right buttons to make you fall apart in his hands. when he finally finds it— a little nibble to your earlobe— your back arches further into him, your moans uncontrollable and incomprehensible as your orgasm washes over you. the skill of his mouth and hands has you reeling from the experience knowing no one else could ever make you feel like this ever again.
once you’ve come down, he slowly pulls his fingers out, sucking them so he can taste you and all that you are. he groans before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. you sigh in content.
“if you cum like that just from my fingers, i can’t wait to see how you look with my cock,” he mutters into your mouth, evoking a whine out of you. “so gorgeous.”
sunghoon steps away to remove his underwear, revealing himself to you. you have to stop yourself from drooling, reaching out to stroke his length languidly. he hisses as he goes back in for another kiss, biting on your lower lip when your thumb swipes over the slit on his sensitive tip.
he drags you to the edge of the bed, pushing away your hands so he can guide himself to your entrance. “are you ready for me, baby?”
“mhm,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist to get him closer— if possible. “want you so bad, sunghoon.”
the sound of his name leaving your lips so filthily has the blood rushing from his brain to his dick even faster than before. he slips in easily, your arousal lubricating enough for him to bottom out almost completely. his balls slap against your ass when he does, his cock sheathed inside of you so far it’s like it’s poking your stomach.
his pace starts slow and consistent, his hips rocking into yours with timed thrusts that hit deep. your legs feel weak and your head is spinning, drunk off of his cock and how good it is. but it’s not satisfying you, you need more. you want more.
your heels dig into the dip of his lower back and you mewl, “faster, p-please.”
“anything for you, pretty girl.” he grunts, using one hand to grip your hip and the other to form a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging your head back so he can rest his forehead in the crook of your neck.
sunghoon angles his hips and pistons his cock into you quicker. each thrust is punctuated by his pelvis snapping into your own harshly and his fistful of your hair stinging your scalp. his hold on your waist is nearly bruising, but you don’t really care, too high from the pleasure he’s providing you. your moans raise in volume as you feel the band in your belly grow tighter.
your pussy clenches around him and he releases your hair in favor of rubbing tight circles into your clit. the stimulation of his cock driving in and out of you combined with his thumb on your most sensitive area has alarms blaring in your head as a warning for your second incoming orgasm. “i’m so so close, hoon, fuck— just like that,”
“c’mon baby, you can give it to me,” he coos, changing his angle again so he reaches that spongy spot in your cunt.
you swear you can see spots when it crashes onto you, your whole body spasming with the intensity of it. sunghoon prolongs your orgasm, still thrusting into you with a purpose. you know he’s closer to his edge too from how desperate he’s moving and the whines leaving his lips. you’re so sensitive it’s making you insane, but you allow him to keep abusing your pussy.
“where do you want me?” he asks breathily, his sweaty forehead sticking to your skin.
“inside,” you moan, your toes curling. “cum inside me, sunghoon,”
he just about loses it at that, fucking into you with everything he can manage and sinking his nails into the fat of your hips to hold you still. you’re overstimulated and your brain is foggy so you keep squirming around, involuntarily squeezing your walls around his length. it’s not too much later that he finally releases, painting your cunt with milky white ropes of cum.
he slumps forward once he’s given all he has to offer, his chest flat against yours while he attempts to regulate his breathing. the two of you lie there for a bit, recovering from what just happened. eventually he pulls out and disappears into the bathroom, only to return with a warm and damp washcloth seconds after. he hands it to you wordlessly and you awkwardly clean yourself up, wincing due to the acute sensitivity you were feeling. sunghoon sits beside you, naked and silent.
you think it’s funny how he was so confident not even ten minutes ago and now he’s acting like a shy teenager. you know you have to talk about the situation at hand and what it means for your relationship, but in this moment, the cloudiness of your head subsided, that fear of rejection has creeped back in. was it just a temporary lapse of judgment on his part? did he just feel attraction towards you because you dolled yourself up for once?
the insecurity rushes in like a tsunami wave and you want nothing more than to get out of here before you drown.
“i—”
“we—”
you both speak at the same time, cutting each other off before you can continue. he gestures for you to go first and you sigh, reaching for the t-shirt thrown over the bedpost from this morning. you slip it on, along with your discarded underwear, to hide your body, comparatively aware of how exposed you were. he follows suit, putting his underwear back on.
“i think i should sleep somewhere else tonight.” you say, your tone uneasy.
sunghoon’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “w-what? why?”
“it’s already awkward enough,” you avoid his eyes. “i don’t think sleeping in the same bed is gonna help.”
“i was just trying to put together the right words,” he explains, brows still furrowed. “i don’t wanna give you a half assed confession after we just had sex, y’know? you deserve something more intimate than that.”
you blink, thrown for a loop by his admission. well now you felt like an idiot.
“c-confession?” you stutter, resembling a cartoon character with your jaw on the ground.
“did you— did you think i was gonna treat this as a random hookup?” his lips form a frown, like he was offended by your assumption.
“um, yeah? i mean, you never really expressed any interest in me before tonight, sunghoon. you’ve only ever talked about other girls you’ve fucked around with. you can’t really blame me.” you play with the hem of the (his) t-shirt.
his hand finds its way under your chin, lifting it so you have to look at him. the glint in his eyes is soft and you will away the tears threatening to appear. “you really have no idea huh?”
“what are you talking about?” you sniffle.
“y/n, i’ve been in love with you for like five years. any time i’ve talked about another girl, it was to see whether or not you seemed bothered by it. did you actually think i felt nothing for you?” sunghoon snorts, wiping away a stray tear that rolls down your cheek.
“yeah,” you laugh, feeling a little silly for not knowing he liked you this entire time. “i guess i was blinded by my own emotions.”
“that’s why it made me mad that you were hitting it off so well with that jisung guy,” he holds one of your hands in his lap, caressing your knuckles with his thumb. “i kinda figured you felt the same, but i was starting to doubt it after that.”
“hoon, i was only doing that ‘cause i thought i had no chance with you,” you shake your head. “if you had told me sooner, all of this could’ve been prevented.”
“or if you told me sooner.” he adds with a shrug.
you lightly poke his chest with a playful eye roll. he smiles at you fondly and you think this is perfect. you weren’t expecting the night to go in this direction, but you definitely aren’t complaining. somehow you feel like heeseung is to thank, in an odd way. (you’d never let him know that though.)
“can i kiss you again? for real this time?” sunghoon asks, scooting a little closer to you on the bed.
you nod, leaning into him so you can connect your lips in a sweet kiss. it’s not full of hunger or desire, but it still has that same passion from earlier. it’s loving and it’s everything you’ve ever needed from a kiss with park sunghoon.
you don’t get to indulge in the moment any longer, though, a thud sounding outside your room and hushed voices filtering from under the door. you and sunghoon share a look.
“shut the fuck up, they’re gonna hear us!”
“you’re the one being loud, what are you saying?”
“jake shut your fucking mouth, don’t back talk me.”
“wait why are they quiet?”
“shhh!”
sunghoon scoffs before he opens the door, revealing your friends all gathered in front of it. jake and kai fall forward, ears first. they give you guilty smiles when they realize they’ve been caught, chuckling uncomfortably.
“beomgyu, you owe me five bucks.” heeseung says when he takes notice of the clothes strewn across the room.
nevermind. lee heeseung truly was the bane of your existence.
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© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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To you he's a menace to society, he's my little princess though. I'm back and here to serve more ideas of my favorite mean bbg 💗💗
Ok ok so I know this is based on the fic I sended, but can you imagine tan's wife being just so sassy? Walking up to this well known and feared leader, hand on our hip, smug smile, not a care in the world and saving our boys. And we always win because I said so.
Which brings me to my next point, acting. (I'm not obsessed with this idea at all haha) Now, this is silly but hear me out, since in the movie, the prince is a diesel because of her acting and how she bluffs, what if reader is arguing she's also a diesel because of her great acting skills. All I know for sure is that Lem would be so pissed at what we just said.
I hc that Tan doesn't spend much time on the internet, so when we send him "I'll see you at 14:37 :)" don't expect him to know. Lem would be like "you fucking dumbass" and having to explain what it means. (1437 = i love you forever)
Casual dom with Tan?? Pulling you by the waist so thar on the sidewalk you're further from the cars. Giving you his jacket because you "forgot" yours at home (he secretly loves it) scolding you when you don't eat and holding your chin up to make you look at him
This one is self indulgent but, wearing heels all day and you're legs hurt so he offers you a piggy back ride back home :((
Last one, I think he's kind of hesitant to open up at first but as time went by, and you two get married, what do you think will change in your relationship?
OK LAST ONE FR THIS TIME I'm feeling a little mischievous, giving him an attitude? 😱😱 shocking but,, how will he react? Please share thoughts ☺️
Also,, that text conversation ?? Delicious, thank you for the food ma'am. A while back, when I send one of these ideas asks (idk how to call them) I mentioned how it'll be like to be in a groupchat with these two and the fake sms app is exactly what I had in mind. Now that I saw the post, I wanted to ask if you could do something similar but I'm aware it's probably a lot of hassle so it's okay if you don't want to !! Sorry for any spelling mistakes!!  💺 anon
I love wearing sunglasses bcs no one will know what you're looking at haha. I say as I'm obviously staring at Tan's chest
hii!! ofc ofc, please enlighten me with ideas of our cute wholesome angel😩!!
1. like a protective mama bear 😌 always looking out for our little princesses. and yes to winning bc that’s the only way tbh
2. 😭😭😭 yes!! would kinda imagine as a femme fatale just bc it’s badass, and she would have many skills- acting one of them!! like someone you watch in a movie, and you’re like she’s fucking cool
3. yes!! feel like he’s a bit old in that department - he’s not really ‘up to date’. tbh I didn’t I know what that meant either until I read your last line😭 I feel like Lems the opposite of tan with the internet, he just knows things
4. ARFFGH LOVE IT!! he’s very chivalrous bc I say so! he NEVER lets you walk on the outside of the pavement!! always holds the/ your bags !! holds you close if you’re both out at night!! makes you food if you haven’t eaten!! makes you drinks- big acts of service kinda guy🫠😌 MAYBE… he doesn’t need a jacket but always brings one bc he knows you’ll get cold :((
5. so cute !!! especially if you went on a date!!
6. he’s a tough nut to crack!! dare I say a little difficult to love at times😶 I think he just needs lots of genuine reassurance and support to get you both past that first barrier. also he probs tries to push you away. but once you’re comfortable with each other and had a lot of time to learn from one another, he’ll be a great partner!! as most people, he gets more comfortable with time, so he’ll start to annoy you and wind you up for fun. maybe might argue more as time goes on, but they’re not that serious, nor are they petty, just standard ones
7. he knows how to shut you up, that’s all im gonna say
8. ugh you’re so welcome, love feeding my children😌 yes yes ofc!! just need to figure out how to that (bc it’s 3 people) I send messages to my ipad and respond that way😭 so if I find away to make a group chat as such, I’ll definitely let you know
9. he’s got such a pretty chest🥹
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3drln · 1 year
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YOU HAVE: 2 NEW MESSAGES!
[3drln] sent: “what are the karasuno first years’ favorite ways to cuddle?”
[3drln] sent 1 attatchment:
gn! reader ; cutie karasuno first years ; sfw ; tsukki pinches u like. once but in a loving way! ; kind of (very) unorganized pls forgive me
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he’s as hyperactive in his unconscious as he is when he’s awake, so don’t expect a super quiet cuddle-sesh with him. shoyo can never —and no one thinks he ever will — sleep in the same position for more than 10 or maybe 20 minutes.
for the first 15 or so minutes of dozing off, he loves facing you. just laying there with you is so magical to him — but, sadly enough, you’ll always wake up with him laying sprawled out on top of you, drooling in your sleep shirt. it’s almost comedic how much hinata moves; but you’ve never minded <3
kageyama will always ask you lay on his chest. no exceptions!
he loves the feeling of you hands in his, and he loves that feeling of being your protector. he lives for it, honestly. he’ll squeeze you tight if he feels your breathing become uneasy, just so you know he’s always there for you. unlike hinata, tobio doesn’t move at all in his sleep, but he does let out the cutest snores when he’s fully unconscious.
something about spooning is just so romantic to tsukkishima. not that he’d ever tell a soul, but it lights a spark in him every time you bring him to bed after a long day.
a new addition to your nightly routine is him pinching your cheeks, and bidding you goodnight right before you doze off. he thinks it’s adorable the way you scrunch up after, complaining dreamily about him being “so mean to you”. but night after night, your kei has always kissed it better
it’s no surprise that yamaguchi gets flushed quite frequently, but there’s something about you laying in his lap that’s always lit his heart on fire.
tadashi loves how you feel so perfect with your arms and legs wrapped tight around him, like it was meant to be you two forever. there’s never any awkward gaps, your bodies just mold together so naturally. your soft breathing against his neck has never failed to ruin him (for the better), and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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this fic belongs to @3drln — please don’t translate, copy, or re-publish my works anywhere without my knowledge. 20230318
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October 2023 WOTM: peonierose
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Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @peonierose. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.
Quick Links:
Tumblr Blog: peonierose Blog Masterlist
How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Peonie or PR is fine 🥰
1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 
Way back when Choices first launched. My first book was The Freshman Series - book 1. It was so fun to play the books and get super excited for new chapters. I was waiting until midnight for new chapters. It was the first time I’ve played an app where I could make decisions and use diamonds for VIP scenes 😍
2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?
I joined the Choices fandom back in 2021. I really missed Open Heart after book 3 ended (and left me wanting more) So I wanted to see if there were any more stories I could binge, and that’s how I stumbled upon Tumblr 🥰
3- How did you pick your blog name? 
It may sound weird but it just came to me. Peonies are my favorite flowers. As soon as I thought peonie I quickly added rose and I was like that sounds so cool and it’s unique which I love 😍 And that’s how peonierose was born. 
4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  
Gosh. This feels like forever ago. When I first came on tumblr I didn’t post or reblog much 😅 (too shy to interact with anyone 🙈)
5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?
It has been 2 years in August this year since I’ve actively started writing fanfic 🥰 (I still can’t believe I actually made the leap and decided to post any of my stories). 
6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?
You’re really going to make me choose? There are so many good ones 😱
I love to write for two of my favorite books which are Nightbound and Open Heart. Those are the ones I feel most connected to 🥰 Though I’d love to venture out and make edits or social media posts for other choices books too. 
7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?
I wrote Robin‘s Tell-All from TNA, and it was the first fic I’ve ever shared. I really wanted to write a story from Robin‘s POV and how all that happened in TNA affected him and all the mistakes he made. 
I wanted to showcase his inner struggle. 
I remember how nervous I was to post something that I’d written. I thought to myself, will people even like my story? And if they do like it, then what? It was a great rush to see the reblogs, and the love for my first-ever posted fic. 
If I could change one thing, it would probably be the moodboard 😅
8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?
That is a tough question, because to me every fic I‘ve written has a special place in my heart. So every story reflects the feelings I’ve felt while writing my story. 
Buuuuut if I had to choose: It would be a tie between By a Landslide (Bryce and Luna), the 3rd chapter of my Nightbound series - Unexpected and Go with the Flow (Luna & Bryce) 
9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?
I actually didn’t think I’m a sucker for you, A Pinch of Pink and Blue…This one‘s for you,  Cinnamon Sugar and Wildflower, to be as well received as they did. 
However, I think Bittersweet Symphony and Losing Game (1 / 4) could use some more love. 
Both stories are amazing and I think you’ll love both my pairings. Luna & Bryce and of course Maxine and Adam. 
10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 
I am by no means a smut writer 😅 Maybe I’ll get there 😅 But I’d go with a mix between angst and fluff. I think a nice balance between these two would be good. 
11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?
Yeah. Tons of times. Take Luna for example. She has anxiety like me, and her appearance, such as her blue-green eyes and dark blonde hair, are like mine. But character wise we’re complete opposites. I wish I’d be more artistic like her 🩷
And Bryce is an Aries like me, and so many things he says or does make me go back, and I’m like, yeah, I would say something like that. Other than that, I’ve learned to give my characters real flaws and make them human, if that makes sense. But it does happen that they end up with character traits that are mine, and then I lean back and realize I’ve given my characters some of my weird and quirky character traits 🤣
12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?
Damn. Umm…I struggle with a lot of things. Finding the right words sometimes because English isn’t my first, not even my second language. I speak six languages, so it's sometimes hard to find the words to describe things. 
Showing, not telling that’s another thing I struggle with. 
That and if I have to keep a deadline to post something 🤣 Because it takes me forever to post anything I’m not 100% behind and happy with. 
13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?
How much time you’ve got? I have over 30 wips, that want some desperate attention, and I always keep adding new wips, whenever something inspires me to write 😅 
I’ve found some new inspo for Somewhere Only We Know 🥰 Apart from that I’d love to take another look at my two AU‘s Amber & my Nightbound series. So we’ll see what wips I can manage to finish 😅 
14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 
Sure. I’d love to get an outside opinion of my work and my characters that are so beloved and close to my heart 🩷
I actually tell people that I write fanfic and original work. And I’ve sent some samples their way and they liked it. Which makes me feel more confident in my writing (not saying it’s perfect, there’s always room for improvement, but it’s getting better). 
As for which story to start? I’d say start with Only Love for Bryce and Luna. That was my first story of them and I consider it their start. 
Then continue with Always & Forever and Go with the Flow. 
Those were my first posted stories about Luna & Bryce and I think you’ll like them. It would give you a good understanding of my storytelling and my characters. 
15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 
There are a couple of authors I admire - Chloe Neil, Elise Kova, Nalini Singh, Rachel Caine (R.I.), Rebecca Yarros, and many more. They have influenced and shaped my writing, my fantasy world-building, and, of course building my characters. These authors know how to tell great stories, which makes me admire them so much. 
As for fanfic writers who’ve inspired me? I’d love to give a special shoutout to one of my closest friends who’s been my beta reader for almost anything @annieruok She’s an amazing person and writer. Thanks so much for all the times listening to my ramblings about scenes and characters 🩷 
16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 
My Nightbound series hands down. That is a story that really deserves to be on the big screen or as a Netflix show. I’m not picky. 
I’d love to see Grey, Gretel and Hänsel kick some ass. It’s a unique enough story to garner some attention 🥰 I’ve worked really hard to write it and it took me a year to come up with chapters, character names and so forth. 
Also Somewhere Only We Know would be cool to see on the big screen. I’d probably weep from joy if any of my stories were ever developed as a movie or series 🥰🥹
17- Do you write original fiction? 
Yes, I actually do. I have several original works in my Google docs. And just recently, I had an idea for another original story (I don’t feel comfortable sharing it yet) 🥰 But let’s just say it’s fun to come up with the characters and world-building and everything in between. 
18 -  What other hobbies do you have?
Reading books, trying out new recipes in the kitchen. This also reminds me I need to exercise more 🤣 
Taking walks & going shopping. 
Hanging out with friends and binge watching shows and movies on Disney+ and Netflix. Just trying to  enjoy every single moment that every day has to offer 🩷 
19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 
It’s a toss between these three 🥰😍🩷 (What can I say I love pink 🩷 not just because of the new Barbie movie and the pinkmania 🩷) 
20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).
First, I wanted to say thank you to everyone. For being picked as writer of the month is a huge honor 🥰 Thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read my stories, reblog them, and leave some unbelievably nice words. 
I’m very grateful that you guys took the time to shower me with love. Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve some of your nice words and love. I also wanted to give a special shoutout to some of the people who are very dear to me. 🩷 
Thank you guys for supporting me. Being there for me - through great and not so great times - I‘ll never be able repay your kindness 🩷 You guys make me strive to be a better version of myself and I couldn’t be more happy to call you my friends 🩷
@annieru0k @cariantha @txem @doriopenheart @mysticalgalaxy @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads @heavenssexiestangel @socalwriterbee @secretaryunpaid @ofmischiefandmedicine @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @takemyopenheart @quixoticdreamer16 @princess-geek @eleanorbloom
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lovingmattysposts · 2 months
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Listen. If you wanna make the decision to make your next fic Matt X OC!fem reader. As your next fanfiction.
Though clearly your polls say people prefer Y/N & all the angry & down right scared people are to see you their favorite author, join a sub group (OC writers), that they don’t subscribe to.
Autumn? Have you imagined that your stories are bigger than YOU? It’s odd to think about because Christ your the author, right? Your the person who owns your account, correct?
I’m my opinion. to a girl reading for example YDKM. Y/N is/was in self harm. To ANYONE regardless is of age, it helps to see thing’s written you can heavily relate to.
Me included it’s to weird & awkward reading about Matt moaning a random girls name. It just feels wrong in my brain.
Or Chris kisses Self harm scars, people who your stories SAVE their nights, their moods, hell what about people who read your stories instead of Self harming aka you saving their lives.
You may be taking away from those girls who just don’t feel good hearing Chris kiss idk a random name like “grace” scars, it may add to that feeling that it will never be them to HAVE ANYONE love them like that. Because it’s not, Y/N & the person on Tumblr will struggle to hear Chris who is the object of their escape cuz they would be choosing to read either a Matt or a Chris fanfiction & that’s reading for escape.
I’m a Chris girl… & I guess YDKM was the last work you’ll write with Y/N used. It saved me a lot it helped when I was in bad depression this winter. At times I wanted to relapse in self harm & i just re read Chris & Y/N relationship in YDKM.
I know you’ve gotten a lot of hate on the OC aspect of where you take your writing style & your account from here on out…. I thought before you made permanent changes you’d be grateful to likely hear a hot take on changing, Y/N to OC that you haven’t heard before.
The only further compromise I can help you out with, is 2 weeks or so before you actually start a new work or a new writing process. Make MULTIPLE POLLS over a 4-5 DAY PERIOD.
If on day 1-3 Y/N wins & days 4-5 OC wins. That way we have say so….. idk I’m part of that people honestly scared to see you change your account because it’s a safe place people like me may loose forever :/
- well wishes Anon..
wow okay
first and foremost—— I am so happy to hear that my stories helped you so much in a personal way and if you ever need someone to talk to my DMs are always open.
I didn’t realize how much of an effect it would have on people from me changing from y/n to OC. I see you point throughly, but I feel like at the end of the day it’s just a name
You guys tell me all the time that my stories could be actual books and actually authors (I am not claiming to be one pls don’t send hate) don’t use y/n they use actual names and I thought it would make more since to use a name rather than y/n, because with longer stories it can become annoying to write. When reading does it make you less attached to the characters or relate because she has a name?
But as much backlash that this has caused me I think I’ll just keep Y/n because I want you guys to love the story and not hate the fact that I’m using a real name.
I didn’t realize how attached you guys were to y/n I just want to give you the best quality stories as possible. I don’t wanna let you guys down
autumn🧡
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definedbydaylight · 11 months
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“It’ll Be The Last Time” - Matty Healy x F!Reader
Part 3
Masterlist: .°˖✧ Word Count: 2341 Warnings: angst, angst, and more angst, this whole series will have so much angst, also alcohol, smoking, drug use/mentions and a little smut as a treat xx also if you think any of my fics will include an accurate timeline of real life events then you're on crack
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Series Summary: “You’ve known Matty since you were 14 and the boy has never failed to get on your last nerve, but over the years you two end up having unexplainable moments where you can’t help but feel you two are connected in a way you’ll never feel with anyone else, until one night he tells you something that may change how you view the boy forever…”
January 13th 2011
It's almost midnight and you're about to give a small speech in honor of the album, you're off to the side of the DJ Booth with Kelsey and the boys, well all except for Matty who still hasn't said a word to you in the hour that he's been here, you're both thankful and a little disappointed. Ross rubs your shoulders as Kels gives you the traditional best friend motivation spiel, you can't help but smile as you take in all the love and support from your favorite people, just as she finishes the DJ fades the music out and introduces you to the crowd, it's your turn to take the stage, as you walk on and take the mic your group cheers loudly.
"Haha yes thank you. Um, hello! I'm y/n l/n and I'm sorry to the club goers who are about to be subjected to my sad music, I promise some of them have at least an upbeat tune, and it's good music, well I think so anyway, some may say otherwise-"
"IT'S FUCKIN BRILLIANT!" George yells from the side.
"Oh lord, that's my dear friend George so he's a little biased, but thank you love. Anyway this album means a lot to me really, it's a collection of very personal songs, some that I've been working on probably years now. A lot of teenage angst went into this album which I think you'll be able to tell, and uhh, god I'm actually so nervous." You try to take even breaths as the crowd cheers you on.
"Right, so as a surprise I'm actually going to be performing my personal favorite song on the album, which I actually began writing at 18 and have been tweaking over the years, George the lovely fellow actually did the drums on this song cause I knew I wanted a good percussion track. Give him a round of applause as well." You pause and clap along with everyone else looking at him, he gives a small wave as you introduce the song. "Anyway this is Decode off of With Your Permission."
George enters the stage and takes a seat at the drums as the guitar starts you in, you look up to the crowd and make direct eye contact with Matty who stands perfectly centered in the small crowd, arms still tightly wrapped around the girl he brought, you feel your stomach turn.
How can I decide what's right? When you're clouding up my mind I can't win your losing fight All the time-
The crowd actually goes wild at the beginning of the song, the song which you'd been so worried no one would like or understand, but they're actually loving it. The confidence builds up inside you as you continue singing, Matty has stopped looking at you as this point and is violently making out with the girl as you approach your best verse, the verse about him.
-The truth is hiding in your eyes And it's hanging on your tongue Just boiling in my blood-
You're staring at him as he looks up at the perfect time for the song to make an impact on him.
-But you think that I can't see What kind of man that you are If you're a man at all Well, I will figure this one out
On my own (I'm screaming, I love you so) On my own (But my thoughts you can't decode)-
Kelsey is going crazy screaming along because of course you showed your best friend the songs beforehand, you'd never put anything out without her approval, her opinion is the only one in the world that really matters, the drum line intensifies as you begin to finish out the song.
-There is something I see in you It might kill me, I want it to be true
You're done and the crowds is cheering non-stop, George jumps up from his spot and rushes over scooping you up in his arms, he gives your cheek a kiss as he spins you around, soon Kelsey, Ross and Adam have also joined you on stage in a giant group hug of praise.
You're laughing as you try to bring the mic back up to your mouth. "And these are my amazing best friends, as you can see I have a wonderful support system, thank you all for listening, here is the rest of With Your Permission!" The DJ starts the next track as you all exit the stage.
You're all making your way over to your seating area, fresh drinks waiting for you at the table, but so is someone.
"Good performance, interesting song choice." Matty speaks up from his seat, the girl he was with nowhere to be seen.
"Thanks." Is all you can manage to say, George's arm around your waist tightens ready to defend you if he said anything rude.
"I got you a dirty shirley." Matty uses the tips of his fingers to push it towards you as you take a seat. "Still your favorite right?"
You give him a small smile, his tone sounds almost sad, but kind. "Always will be."
The rest of your friends sit, you've ended up between Matty and Kelsey in the rounded booth, and the conversation starts up easily. It feels like no time has passed when you're all together, like no matter what happens between anyone, the group will survive. Adam says something about some guy who he noticed has been pacing the bar back and forth hitting on every girl he can, and everyone laughs, noticing all his failed attempts. Matty adjusts his sitting position and his thigh rubs against yours and you take a sharp breath in at the close contact, no one really notices, no one except Matty of course who's turned to look at you, you can't help but look back at him.
He smiles at you. "So Decode?"
"Oh lord, not this." You laugh a little and put your face in your hands.
"No, no, it's good, bloody brilliant really. I reckon it'll be stuck in my head for a few weeks." He sounds flirty, and with all the alcohol in your system you can't really help but enjoy it.
"Yea?" George speaks up from the other end of the booth. "You should really listen to Under The Table, haven't gotten it out of my head since I first heard it."
"Ross has had to deal with me constantly playing the Like Real People do track you sent me on repeat for the last month, absolutely my favorite!" Kelsey gushes to you.
"Personally I say How Do I Tell You? is the best but I might be biased cause I helped with the guitar on it." Adam pipes in as well.
You smile big at all your friends singing their praise for your music.
"You've all heard them before?" Matty asks, sounding a little hurt.
Summer 2006:
It's a cold night, you've got a thick black cardigan wrapped around you as you sit on your front steps, smoking a joint you'd swiped from George the last time you'd seen him, which had been a while ago now. A few weeks after the party you two had decided to call off your situationship, nothing bad it was mutual, you both decided the weird tension the whole party ordeal had caused was too much, he was still one of your best friends. Everyone had staged a makeshift "intervention" for you, George and Matty to get over the whole thing, and it had gone surprisingly well, well enough that you were actually sat waiting for Matty to pick you up for a party. Kelsey had taken Ross on a trip with her family to Ireland, Adam was visiting with his dad's side of the family, and George had gone to California with his, so you and Matty had been trying to fill the gaps in your social life together.
You finish the joint as you see Matty's van pull up outside, you toss the end of the joint down and stub it out with your boot as you stand up making your way around the car to the passenger side, you hop in and Matty is looking at you with a huge grin on his face.
You look at him weird and laugh. "What's with the serial killer smile?"
"I have a surprise for you, but you have to wait till the party." He says turning forward and pulling out of your driveway as you buckle yourself in.
"Honestly terrified of what you have up your sleeve." You try to reach forward to change the radio station but Matty smacks your hand.
"Hey! Anyway you shouldn't be scared, in fact you should be kissing my fucking ass." He smirks still watching the road.
"Oh yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "And why is that Matthew?"
"Well you see June Bug." You groan at the nickname. "I happen to get my hands on something you've been dying to try."
You whip your head towards him, eye wide. "No! No you did not! Don't lie to me right now, I will be so mad if you're messing with me."
"Glove compartment." He winks at you.
You don't waste a second, you quickly open the compartment and resting inside on top of random papers and a car manual is a small baggie with white powder inside, you squeal and try to reach for it as Matty smacks your hand again.
"I said to wait till we're at the party!" He says seriously.
"But whyyyyy?" You whine.
"Cause it'll be your first time and I need to make sure we're safe before you ingest a drug you've never tried before."
You roll your eyes at him. "Don't say that like it's not your first time too."
"Well, actually-" He starts.
"Matthew Timothy Healy! You promised we'd try it together!" You pull out the puppy dog eyes.
"Listen love, I needed to make sure it wasn't janky coke, I didn't want it to kill you or something, needed to know what we were getting into so I could be sure you'd be okay." You smile at that.
"Oh Matty." You say leaning your head on his shoulder. "Always my knight in shining armor, the man who cares about me the most."
"Oh fuck off." He laughs, shrugging you off his shoulder.
He parks the car down a side street and grabs the baggie before you two make your way into the party, not one of Josh's this time, but a friend of his that he'd invited you both to, who also happened to live in a GIANT house, bigger than Matty's even. You both opt to do shots before anything else, you mention needing to be intoxicated to deal with the awful choice of music, Matty smiles and agrees with you taking your hand and dragging you to the kitchen to find something.
After a few vodka shots he grabs a 6 pack of ciders and you both made your way to one of the, what you assume is, many bathrooms, you enter and lock the door setting up camp for the events that are about to take place. You crack open two ciders as Matty sets up two lines on the counter and rolls up a one pound note.
"Okay so basically-" He starts to explain.
"I know how to do it Matty, we've seen it in movies plenty of times." You interrupt.
"Right, sorry I forgot movies are the best form of education, miss know-it-all, but whatever there is one thing you need to know, the drip back is awful so prepare for a bad taste in the back of your throat." He then takes his line and tilts his head back.
He hands the rolled up note to you and presents the line to you like an absolute dork, you turn to the counter and take your turn, tilting your head back afterwards like he had. He was right, the taste was god awful, but the feeling overshadowed the taste, you turn to him eyes wide.
"Holy fuck." Is all you say and he starts laughing. "No I'm serious Matthew this is fucking awesome."
"Yea?" He asks, smiling at you.
"Yes, god I could kiss you right now." You laugh.
He just stares at you smiling, and you can't help but smile at him even larger, you're both just sitting on the bathroom floor now, staring and giggling at each other, smiles never leaving your faces. You both take another line and afterwards you reach for a second cider, you drink trying to wash the taste out and some of it drips down the side of your mouth, as you set the can down Matty's hand comes up to your face to wipe off the liquid, his thumb slightly touches the corner of your mouth and it's like the same switch had been flipped as it had at the dance.
In seconds you two are on each other like rabbits in heat, but it's not fast paced, in fact it's almost antagonizing how slow it is, but it's amazing nonetheless, like if what you felt with him the first time you kissed times ten. Your mouths moved in perfect sync, the taste of his tongue on yours was almost as addicting if not more than the high you both had. He quickly scoops you up and sets you up on counter and pulls you forward so your bodies are flush against one another, one hand now on you jaw as his other has made its way up your leg and under your skirt, his thumb rubbing at your inner thigh, you can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear as he pulls away to breath.
"Fuck- Matty." You whine.
"Yea baby? What do you want?" He asks, his lips making their way to the crook of your neck.
"You, want you." Your hand tugs on his curls and he moans.
His hand toys with the edge of your underwear as he speaks. "Then have me June Bug."
Part 4 (coming soon-ish)
a/n: whelp here it is, sorry for the smut tease i couldn't help it, i promise the next part will have actual smut, anyway past Matty and reader have reconciled! but future Matty and reader are still iffy but who knows?? huh? anyway a chapter to end the night xx
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merakiui · 1 year
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the idea of rollo staying at NRC in ramshackle will forever remain soooo fun to me especially with all the other characters freaking out about it HAHA thank you for blessing my dashboard with it <3 it's incredible. maybe one day i'll write a little drabble abt that idea but i'm currently 18.000 words into a rollo/reader longfic (and not even halfway done yet. yippee! what burden did i put on my own shoulders... OTL) and i don't wanna write anything else until i have this monstrosity finished LMAO but if you have any other rollo at nrc ideas pspspspsppspsp thank you
Good luck with your Rollo fic, anon! I know how it feels to subject oneself to long fics, so I wish you all the best with your writing process!!!
As for Rollo at NRC, allow me to share a few thoughts:
✧ Rollo braving the busy cafeteria line when they’re selling the bakery goods once every month. He insists on doing this because he doesn’t want you to get trampled by ignorant mages who don’t know how to be respectful! He always returns with your favorite, sometimes even forgoing the chance to get his own favorite item because you’re way more important to him than a croissant.
✧ PE class with Rollo, but he offers to do the same exercise routine Vargas has created for you since you can’t exactly fly on a broom. He’ll run laps on the track with you (even though he’d rather not) just to be beside you so you won’t feel left out. The two of you slack on sit-ups and push-ups when Vargas isn’t looking, usually just sitting cross-legged in the field and talking about anything and everything.
✧ Since you’re comfortable with letting Rollo stay and sleep in your bed, the two of you will lie on your sides and occasionally whisper to each other through the darkness, mumbling about simple things like tomorrow’s weather, or the next alchemy exam, or how you should both spend this upcoming weekend. Grim usually has to get up and lie between the both of you so you’ll stop talking, but with each nightly conversation Rollo loosens up a little and even seems friendlier and warmer to you and Grim. You think you might’ve heard a genuine chuckle when Grim had gotten up and moved between you, all while sleepily complaining about how neither of you will shut up. Rollo won’t admit it outright, but ever since he started sleeping beside you he’s found that sleep comes much easier now.
✧ Rollo doesn’t like mages, but he’s deemed himself the only mage safe and capable enough to be around you. So when you’re dejected that you can’t experience what it must feel like to fly on a broom he offers to show you without thinking. But then Ace and Deuce are offering, and now Rollo really has to commit to his promise. Ace is too carefree with his flying and Deuce gets too nervous sometimes, so they’re definitely not suited to take you up into the air. Rollo never really thought that something so normal as flying on a broom would appeal to someone who’s never seen or heard of such a thing before, but once he’s in the air with you—and you’re wrapping your arms firmly around him to hold on—he hears the breathy excitement in your voice as you wave and yell down to your friends below. Rollo almost confesses to you right then and there because the sky is the only place private enough for a sudden confession, but he holds his tongue and smiles softly instead. You’re cute when you’re happy.
✧ Rollo likes to study in the library with you, either in one of the alcoves or at a table in the very corner. The two of you might get interrupted by whoever happens to stumble upon you, and it’s annoying when you ask the intruder to stay and study alongside the both of you. But he’s always rewarded after every moment spent with you when you get sleepy and lean against his shoulder, using it as a pillow. Your relationship has become really friendly and casual lately, which is a bond Rollo thought he’d never be able to have. But oh the pride he feels when he looks at Ace or Azul or even Riddle and can see them withholding an envious comment.
✧ When you first took Rollo into the town alongside some friends, wanting to show him around in the same fashion you’d been shown around many months ago, he finds himself thinking about all of the places here that could serve as good date sites. Naturally, taking a walk through the town could be a date in itself, but he sees the cutest restaurants and cafés and shops. And he makes a mental note to return with you next time so that he can properly immerse himself in the atmosphere and pretend it’s a date with only you.
✧ Rollo is there for you if you ever get homesick, much like how you’re there for him when he recalls his past and has to fight tears and sadness so he won’t burden you with such feelings. Rollo doesn’t experience hugs often, but ever since he transferred to NRC you’ve always offered a hug when he looked tired or lonely or saddened. Rollo had pushed you away each time, but when he’s particularly emotionally vulnerable he’ll pull you into him and never let go, holding tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
✧ Stargazing with Rollo when neither of you can fall asleep. Maybe you’re plagued with confusing dreams, maybe it’s his insomnia, or maybe the both of you are kept up by Grim’s loud snoring. Either way, you’ll meet each other in the hall and just silently agree to watch the stars in hopes of getting sleepy. Sometimes you’ll sit at the window; if it’s not too chilly outside you’ll grab a blanket and sit out there, the both of you wrapped up, your gazes turned skyward. Sometimes you’ll talk about deep topics. Sometimes you’ll just wordlessly admire the sky. Sometimes Rollo thinks of telling you he loves you, of reaching out to turn your head towards him so you can taste the confession on his lips. But instead he chooses to admire the brightest star in his world: you.
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paper rings- weddings!! give me a character. a rough word count (10k is the most I’m willing to write, but if you want the fic to be a longer one, specifics are heavily recommended) and where you would want to get married if you were to get married! You can also tell me if you want it to be next level angst or to have the fluff scale turned up to eleven. Provide whatever specifics you want, and along with the fic, you’ll get a moodboard! You can mention if you want the moodboard to replace whatever gif I use as a fic header, but if you want it at the bottom of the fic and for me to include the gif anyway, just let me know!
okayyyy nikolai lantsov andd 1-2k? i've always dreamed of having a forest fairytale type wedding. like the fairy lights, and the green and borwn color schemes. and very intimate, only closeee friends and family (which is still a lot of family on my side but shhhh) fluff scale turned up to 11 plsss! the moodboard, i'm fine either way whatever is easiest<3
Our Forever/Our Eternity- Nikolai Lantsov x fem! reader
Okay, hi! I am so sorry that this coming out so late--I’d started second semester when I went to look at my inbox and having to do assignments on the daily is taking me closer and closer to academic burn out one step at a time. This is coming out on valentines though, so yay! I hope you like this one. The moodboard also came out in the form of a collage, which again, I hope is cool! I made it while tired out of my mind last night and a collage is what my tiredbrain was able to manage at that point lol.
fic type- fluff. 
Warnings- mentions of the consumption of alcohol (wine and champagne, and vodka/kvas) 
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You and Nikolai had been dating since you were sixteen, having met by pure happenstance whilst you both worked in the First Army. You were at his side as his partner when he’d met Alina, fought with him as his partner and his confidante in the Ravkan Civil war. 
When he’d proposed at the age of twenty-three, just at the beginning of his kingship, you were overjoyed, and so, it seemed, was he. 
The next year and a half were spent with wedding preparations at the forefront of nearly everyones focuses, though especially Genyas, yours, and Nikolais. 
A fairytale esque wedding was the theme you’d agreed upon, and it was just to your luck that a decent clearing with a couple of large trees was amongst the Little Palaces acreage. 
Genya had said that it was to be the perfect spot for a wedding, and a year and a half later, as you listened to Alina and Zoyas conversation and Genya tailored a bit of powder onto your eyes to give them a pop of color, you had to agree. 
You’d decorated it with a few good tables, chairs painted a deep brown the color of wood, the tablecloths a darker version of leafy green. The centerpieces had been your favorite flowers, encased in small glass display containers that would’ve been used for something like a cupcake display in a bakery, and the tree under which you were going to get married had been laid with lights, making it look like the branches were dripping in stars. 
You’d done your wedding a bit differently to the societal expectations placed onto Nikolais shoulders. It wasn’t public, it wasn’t to occur in the Little Palace and there were no journalists, no reporters or anyone who’s only purpose of attending would be to get the scoop on the happenings of that day. 
You’d only invited the people who’d mattered to you both, those whom you considered family. Tolya, Mal and David were Nikolais groomsmen. Genya, Tamar, Nadia, Alina and Zoya were your bridesmaids. 
Alina and Mal had come along, though Alina had been wearing a wig so that nobody looked at her and immediately knew that she’d been the sun saint, the one who’d been martyred three years before. 
Alina laughed as a breeze picked up and ruined some of the work that Genya had done with your hair, meeting your gaze with a grin. 
“Early summer is a wonderful time of year, isn’t it?” You asked, laugh befalling your lips as Genya gave an exasperated sigh. “There’s a breeze, yeah, but at least it’s warm.”
“Nikolai is just going to faint when he sees you,” Nadia said with a grin. “Oh, the king will faint indeed.”
“Tolya will have to catch him,” Tamar agreed, laugh coming up as she took a sip of her champagne. “It’ll be quite the glorious thing, and no reporters here to tell the tale means that our beloved king and his precious ego will be saved from embarrassment.” 
“He’ll do more than faint,” Zoya said. “He’s never cried a day in his life, I’m sure, but he will. He’ll be crying tears of joy. Men are astonished by beauty, and you look ravishing, so it’s practically par for the course.” 
You took a sip of your champagne as Genya announced that she was done with your hair, peeking out from behind the tree that you’d stood behind, one far enough away from guests and Nikolai to avoid being heard or seen.  
“The king has descended down the aisle,” she said. “Oh, he is going to lose it. I’m so excited!” 
You finished off your champagne as Genya and David walked down the aisle, followed by Zoya with Tolya, Alina and Mal, Tamar and Nadia together. 
You watched, head ducked out from the spot where you stood, as David whispered something to Nikolai and his eyes promptly closed, anticipatory grin spreading across his face. You scoffed, grin coming to yours as well. 
Of course David had listened to Genyas suggestion that he ask Nikolai to close his eyes so as to not see you until you’d walked down the aisle. Photographers were around, and she probably thought it would make for an interesting set of photos. David, as her husband, would’ve agreed, as would you have, as you knew she was probably right. 
Your father walked you down the aisle, and when you reached out, resting either of your arms on Nikolais shoulders and allowing your hands to entwine themselves behind his neck, his eyes opened.
He looked shocked in one moment, mesmerized in the next.
“You look--” Nikolai began, cutting himself off. He laughed after a moment. “It seems I am unable to find the words. You look indescribably beautiful.” 
You grinned. “You clean up nicely, Mr. Lantsov.”
“The same can be said of you, soon to be Mrs.” 
You grinned, rolled your eyes, as the officiant began.
“We are gathered here today for the union of his majesty the king, Nikolai Lantsov, and her majesty the Queen, Y/N L/N,” you’d gotten that part sorted in the weeks prior. You’d been declared queen before the wedding at a small coronation that the public was only made aware of in the days after it’d occurred, so as to pretty much just get the process out of the way. 
“It is my belief that the couple has written their own vows?” You both glanced at the officiant, giving him a slight nod. “Well then, King Nikolai, I’ll allow you to read yours first.” 
Nikolai shot you a smirk, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him lovingly. He’d always been the flirtatious type, and you considered it luck that those flirts had always seemed to be tossed in your direction. 
Nikolai wasn’t just a flirt, though. He was a caring, compassionate, smart and wonderful guy. He was someone you’d met while serving your time in the First Army, someone who you’d seen act in the bravest manner and only in the interest of saving the lives of those around him. He’d managed to sweep you off your feet somewhere in all of the noise, and when he became Sturmhond, you joined him once you’d convinced your commander to release you on honorable discharge so that you could. 
As you stood in front of him, arms around his shoulders, you found that you didn’t regret it. Not a minute. 
“I have loved you since we worked in the infantry department together,” Nikolai said. “I fell in love with you whilst we were in the ranks of the First Army, and, eight years after I joined up, I can say that I have not felt regret over it for a moment. I love you more than words can express, really, and I’m looking forward to proving it to you with my actions. I cannot wait to get to wake up next to you everyday for the rest of my life.”
He paused, closing his eyes for a moment, and you realized that Zoya may have been right. Nikolai may actually have started crying, or have gotten closer to it. 
“Forever has always felt like such a long time,” Nikolai continued. “It still does, usually, but it’s time that I get to spend with you at my side, so I can’t wait for our forever to start.” 
The officiant grinned. “Y/N, you may read your vows in response.” 
“I love you,” you began. “I used to think that I would never get so lucky as I have. I was sent into the First Army, and as most do, I figured I was doomed. I’m delighted that I wasn’t, and though the First Army, the mandatory service, is not something that I look back on fondly, I’m glad I met you from it. I’m glad that I’ve spent almost a decade at your side, and I’m looking forward to all the decades to come.”
“I’m looking forward to coffee on Sundays, to watching the sun go down and drinking kvas as we talk about how lucky we both feel, and I am really excited that I get to be married to you for our eternity. I have loved you as long as I have known you, and I am looking forward to getting to spend the rest of my days loving you even still.” 
The rings were brought out, and you noticed a tear slip down Nikolais cheek as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You slipped his ring onto his, wiped the tear away and gave him a grin as you registered that you were close to crying as well. 
It was your wedding, though. One of the happiest days of your life. People would forgive you if you cried a bit. 
“Nikolai Lantsov, do you promise to love Y/N L/N for the rest of your days, in sickness and in health, in rich and in poor?”
“I do,” Nikolai looked at you, and you looked at him, and all that either of you noticed in that moment was the sheer love in the other persons gaze.
“Y/N L/N, do you promise to love Nikolai Lantsov for the rest of your days, in sickness and in health, in rich and in poor?” 
“I do.” 
“Well then, the bride and groom may kiss to seal this union,” the officiant said.
And so, you did, a tear slipping down your cheek as Nikolais lips were on yours and you were officially his wife, he was officially your husband. You were so happy, it was more than words could ever accurately describe.
Nikolai pulled away, grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, and just like that, the party had started, the violins picking up with an old Ravkan dancing tune. 
You spent the night dancing, laughing, drinking and enjoying the night for all that it was. You were married to the love of your life, and you were sure you would be so happy as you’d been that day for the rest of the days in which you graced the earth. 
When all the guests had left, most of them retiring into their rooms after midnight, when all of the celebrations had been had, the good wine and kvas drank, the dancing done, you were still out there.
It was a group of people, actually. It’d been you, Nikolai, Genya, David, Tolya, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, Alina and Mal. The violinist was still playing because they’d not yet retired to their own room. They were playing a slow song, and like it was habitual, you all paired off and danced.
Nikolai held you close, arms around your waist where yours were resting on either of his shoulders. You were dancing under the tree where you’d gotten married, and the lights were still on. As you registered the flit of a camera, knowing that the photographers had long gone home, you scoffed.
“Need something for the photo album, Tolya?”
“A few somethings,” he said. “These’ll look good framed, and Zoya most certainly agrees with me.”
“She does,” Zoya piped up. “As does Genya, who anticipated this happening and thought that the disposable was a good idea. You’re welcome, lovebirds.” 
You and Nikolai laughed. “Thank you, guys.”
“We’re glad that you finally tied the knot, Nik,” Tamar said. “Seriously. Tolya and Nadia were beginning to debate placing bets.”
“Who would’ve won?”
“Me,” Tolya said. “A good man does not wait for the perfect time, in accordance to my sonnets. He either creates it or finds it in a day that is seemingly mundane.”
You scoffed. “It was not mundane, Yul-Bataar. He proposed to me when the sun was setting. We were by the lakes.” 
“Mundane enough,” Nikolai said. “And perfect enough, after having tried to find the right time for three years.”
“You took my point, you took my compliment, and you unraveled it,” Tolya said, scoffing. “You’re a drunken buffoon.”
“I’m not drunk,” Nikolai said. “I’ve been too busy dancing with my wife to bother with it.”
“Ah, so you’re just a buffoon, then?” Genya asked. “Makes sense.” 
Nikolai scoffed, meeting your gaze. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” you said. “It’s getting late, and cold. Let’s head back inside.”
“Early start tomorrow,” David said.
“I will have Tamar cut my tongue out with one of her beloved axes before I rise at any time within the three hours after sunrise tomorrow morning,” Nikolai said as the group began the walk back. You heard the violin music stop, the violinist packing up as you left. 
You grinned as you took Nikolais hand and interlaced your fingers. 
You’d married the love of your life. You were so happy in what was just the start of your forever with him, and he was so happy in the start of his eternity with you. 
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sitp-recs · 7 months
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3 Tacky shorts to read this week
I ran against time to get this post out before midnight ET but am still a bit late 🥲 I know T won’t mind so here’s my belated gift to my sun and stars, my first and dearest partner in crime @tackytigerfic! T, I have no words to describe how much I appreciate our friendship. It’s been so special to experience this fandom with you in the last few years. I love that we immediately hit off and share one stupid brain cell when it comes to these idiots; it feels like we’ve known each other forever and 24 hours (especially living so far apart) is not enough to talk fic, headcanons, kinks, squicks and all other irl and existencial topics with you. Navigating such a big fandom can be really scary but even when nobody knew me I’d never feel lonely, invisible or like I had to pretend to be someone else, because I had you by my side. Thank you so so much for being my safe harbour, my sicko soulmate, my confidant, my role model and my biggest cheerleader!
As I thought of new ways to celebrate your day I tried to remember which fics I hadn’t written a rec for. I came to realize that I was never able to put my thoughts into words when it comes to my 3 favorite short fics of yours. They got me in such a Drarry fever, a tingling incoherent state of emotional devastation that I immediately put away the idea of doing recs because there was no possible way to translate my raw, ugly and chaotic feels about them. I tend to do this with fics that leave me with the so-called hangover once I’m done; funnily enough, the last time this happened - when I read Lettered’s By the Grace - it was you who helped me get that rec out by reviewing it and cheering me along the way, tysm 🥹 now it’s time to respond in kind and share love for these short gems that I have the privilege to revisit every time I need some comfort food. Lucky me, it turns out my best pal writes the exact brand of tender romance that checks all of my boxes. You are a fantastic friend and such a brilliant, talented writer. I love and admire you, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved. Can’t wait to see what comes next. Happy day T! 💜
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👩‍🚀 Far Side + Relic Radiation (M, 1.7k)
Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.
“You’ll kill that plant,” Draco said, and flicked a lazy charm over the pot with his fingers so the spicy smell of the lavender sharpened the night air.
“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.
When I say the heart kick factor may hit you in the solar plexus when you least expect, this is what I’m talking about. I’ve obsessed so much over these 2 tiny shorts with single dad!Draco (one of the tropes Tacky does magic with, they are so disgustingly romantic and emotionally satisfying - gimme T’s dad!Draco anthology or give me nothing!!!) that I came up with a whole theory to prove these stories are actually connected. Whether I’m on the right track or just another delusional reader it’s yet to be seen 🤣 Draco’s devotion to baby Scorpius - and Harry’s gentle yearning for the both of them - does things to my poor heart I can’t quite put into words. Let that boy have his found family happy ending, damn it. Every time I reread these gems I get teared up and wish I could stay in this verse forever, watching Scorp grow while these two lovely men find each other time and again. To make your heart melt a bit more, check the breathtaking artwork by the one and only @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm. I cannot— *cries in Drarry*
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🏜️ Between the Power Lines (M, 3k)
For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy.
In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.
The best word to describe this (literally) hot fic is “atmospheric”. T does a flawless job building impeccable Americana vibes and packing so much story while keeping it 100% character-driven. I love the elegant, contained, confident writing, I love the evocative prose and how the mutual attraction bleeds through these quiet but intense road trip vignettes. The scenario is rich and immersive, the heat so palpable you can almost taste it, and the confession at the end is my definition of peak romance. A whole sensorial experience, both introspective and exciting, vibrant and melancholy, packed within 3k. Absolutely genius.
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🎯Aim For My Heart (M, 3.4k)
Harry's in love, Ron's in control, and Draco just wants a nice lunch. They say three's a crowd, but Harry doesn't always agree. Not when he gets to be in the middle, anyway.
Neither of them had asked Harry what he likes best about them, but Harry watches them and feels the sick curl of excitement low in his belly, like something lost and gained all at once, and he wonders what he’d say if they did ask; would it be mouth or hands or arse, the gleam of clean hair or the hidden scent of a freshly-revealed patch of skin, blue eyes or grey? He doesn’t think he’d tell them what he really loves the most, and that’s the fact that both of them have been his for such a long time, in one way or another, and he loves that he gets to keep them.
For reference, this will always be the Dronarry classic I refer to when I think about this ship. The way Tacky explored the implications and complications of a triad relationship in its early stages (I am so fucking weak for that mix of want, jealousy and vulnerability) combined with exquisite characterization is so well executed I could cry. Beyond that banger of a starting line (“Big hands,” Draco says, and blushes) that made me blush and squeal in delight, Harry’s POV is a triumph. He’s genuinely lovely and relatable in all his yearning and insecurities, soft and longing for both Draco and Ron. The ideia of him realizing that he gets to be loved by, and keep the two people he loves the most in the world, makes my heart burst with warmth. I can pinpoint all the small, quiet but meaningful moments that made my breath stutter and my heart beat faster. This fic is a masterclass in elaborating complex and conflicting emotions, while solving them with a light hand of tenderness and understanding. It is subtle but efficient and all-encompassing in a way that stays with you for a long time after you’ve finished reading. The perfect triad fic.
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