#Anyways these are my thoughts this fine day

[v6quewrlds]

❝ candy paint, l. norris. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: lando norris is a lot of things: 100% honest is not one of them. good thing you're around to make sure he owns his weaknesses.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lando fic everyone cheer!! finding my footing writing lando's personality (dry asf) but I'll get there lmao day three of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends with benefits, the max mentioned is fewtrell not verstappen, oral (male receiving)protected sex, neither reader nor lando can shut the fuck up.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: lando norris x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2k.

"You're kidding, right?" you said into the phone, your voice laced with a hint of skepticism. The rain pattered against the window of your apartment, matching the rhythm of your thoughts. You had just returned from a week-long work trip and were looking forward to a quiet evening in.

Lando's voice was as persistent as the rain outside. "Come on, mate. It's been too long. You know I can't wait." His tone was a blend of playful and demanding, the kind that usually made your heart flutter. But this time, you had to draw a line.

"Lando, seriously," you said, a smirk playing on your lips. "What about your little bet with Max?" The mention of Max's name brought a mischievous glint to your eye. You knew how much he hated losing, especially to his friends.

Lando chuckled, the sound echoing through the line. "I wasn't sticking to the bet anyway. I've got to see you." His voice grew husky with desire, the kind of voice that made your knees wobble and your resolve waver. "I'll come to you."

You hesitated, your eyes narrowing as you considered his plea. The thought of seeing Lando sent a warm shiver down your spine. You could almost feel his strong hands gripping your hips, his breath hot on your neck. "Fine," you relented. "But if you want to come over, I'm telling Max you caved."

"You wouldn't," Lando said with mock horror, and you could almost hear his grin.

"Oh, I absolutely would," you replied, the challenge in your voice unmistakable. "You're the one begging to see me, remember?"

The line went quiet for a beat, and then Lando sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, whatever. I'll be there in twenty."

Twenty minutes later, the sound of the door opening and closing was like music to your ears. You felt the heat of Lando's presence before you even saw him. He was soaking wet from the rain outside, his white t-shirt clinging to his muscular chest. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him. "You look like a drowned rat," you said, standing up from the couch where you had been scrolling through your phone.

"Charming," Lando shot back with a smirk, shaking his wet hair like a dog and spraying droplets across the floor. He stepped closer to you, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the freshness of rain. "But it's worth it if it means I get to see this gorgeous face." He leaned in to kiss you, but you playfully pushed him away. "What, no greeting for the man who braved the storm to see you?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Take off your clothes before you drench the whole place," you said, stepping aside. You watched as he peeled off his shirt, revealing the defined abdomen and muscular arms that had your knees growing weaker by the second. You made no effort to hide your eyes sweeping over his form as you bit your bottom lip.

He kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving a puddle by the door. "Better?" he asked, a glint in his eye as he moved closer.

"Marginally," you replied, trying to keep your cool. But when Lando's hands reached for your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace, you melted against him. His touch was like a warm blanket on a cold night, comforting and revitalizing all at once.

You kissed with an intensity that spoke of weeks of pent-up longing, your tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm. His hands slid down your back, cupping your ass, and you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. "You're going to be the end of me," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled away just enough to whisper, "You're the one who couldn't wait." You stepped back, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. With a swift motion, you straddled him, your cotton shorts riding up your thighs. Lando's hands roamed up your legs, his thumbs teasing the hem, hinting at what was to come.

Your round brown eyes searched his emerald ones, a silent question lingering between you two. "You sure you're ready to lose?" you asked, your voice low and sultry. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant patter of rain.

Lando's grin was all the answer you needed. "Love, I'd do anything to taste you right now." His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts, and with a quick pull, they were around your ankles. He groaned as he felt the heat of your bare skin against his.

You giggled, a sound that was music to his ears, and leaned back, placing your hands on his shoulders. "Well, you're in luck," you said, your voice dripping with seduction. "Because I'm feeling quite generous."

Without breaking eye contact, Lando reached for the waistband of his sweats pulling it down with a slow, deliberate movement. His erection sprang free, and you couldn't help but gasp. He was always so beautifully aroused, so ready for you. You slid your hand over it, feeling it pulse beneath your touch.

He groaned, his eyes closing briefly before snapping open again. "Don't tease me," he warned, his voice strained.

"Who's teasing?" you said, your smile wicked. You kneeled off the couch, your soft dark curls brushing against his chest, and took him in your mouth. Lando's grip tightened on the couch cushions, his body arching off the cushions with a hiss.

"Fuck, babe," he groaned, his eyes rolling back. Your mouth was warm and wet, moving over him with the kind of expertise that only came from knowing someone's body intimately. You took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head before pulling back to tease the sensitive underside. You knew every inch of him, every spot that made him squirm, and every spot that made him beg.

You felt a rush of power, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you watched Lando's reaction. You loved the way he lost control around you, the way his cocky exterior crumbled to reveal the desperate need beneath. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper each time, until you felt his thighs tense and his hips jerk upwards.

"Goddammit," he breathed, his hands finding their way into your hair, guiding your movements. "I can't wait anymore." He pulled you off him, his eyes dark with need. "Get on top," he said, his voice a gruff command.

Your heart raced as you straddled him, your own desire matching his. You watched as he reached into the pocket of his sweats, retrieving a condom he casually slid over his length. Then you felt him at your entrance, his fingers eagerly pushing your panties to the side, and with a little wiggle, you sank down, enveloping him in your warmth. Lando's eyes rolled back in his head, a silent groan escaping his lips. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, a sweet ache that you had missed.

You found your rhythm quickly, your bodies moving together as if you had been practicing this dance your whole life. Lando's hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips as you rode him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons of pressure as you rose and fell. Each time you took him in, you felt like you were claiming a piece of him, a piece that was yours and yours alone.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a testament to your passion. You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against Lando's chest, and whispered, "Couldn't even go two weeks, could you?" Your voice was teasing, but it held an underlying satisfaction. You knew you had the power to make him break his bet.

"Fuck the bet," Lando groaned, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "You're all I need." His words were punctuated by his hips bucking upwards, pushing into you with a desperation that sent a shiver down your spine. The room grew hotter, the scent of your desire mixing with the dampness from the rain outside.

Your movements grew more frantic, their breaths mingling in the air. The couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the intensity of your passion. You felt yourself getting closer, your inner muscles tightening around him. Lando's grip on your hips grew firmer, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Come for me," he urged, his eyes burning into yours. "Let go, baby."

You threw your head back, your dark curls bouncing off your shoulders as you picked up your pace. The sensations grew more intense, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Lando's hands moved from your hips to your breasts, his hands squeezing at the bouncing flesh before leaning down to bring his mouth to the peaks. You gasped, the pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your voice a little raspy. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your orgasm approaching, the familiar coil tightening in your belly. You leaned into him, your movements becoming erratic as you chased the feeling.

Lando could feel you tightening around him, your breath coming in short gasps. He knew you were close, and it was his undoing. He thrust upwards, his own release building. "Fuck," he groaned, his eyes meeting yours, silently pleading for you to let go.

With a cry, you did. Your orgasm washed over you, making your body convulse. You felt him swell inside you, his own climax following closely behind. You held onto each other tightly, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony until the waves of pleasure subsided.

For a moment, you stayed just like that, panting and sweaty, your hearts hammering in your chests. Then, Lando leaned in to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips that spoke of affection and satisfaction. He pulled out of you with a soft groan, and you felt a twinge of loss. But the warmth of his body remained, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

"You're amazing," he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that made your skin prickle. You leaned into the embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. This was your thing, your little slice of heaven, left uncomplicated despite your close friendship.

You lay there for a while, your bodies entwined and your breaths slowing. The rain outside had turned into a gentle pitter-patter, lulling you into a state of post-coital bliss. It was moments like these that made the world seem to stop spinning, where the only thing that mattered was the warmth of each other's skin and the sound of your hearts beating in unison.

You leaned back and looked into his green eyes, the corners of your mouth curling up in a knowing smile. "So," you began, "Are you going to man up and text Max now, or should I?"

Lando groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushion. "You're enjoying this way too much," he said, a hint of a grin playing on his lips.

"I like seeing you squirm," you replied, your voice light and playful. You reached for your phone on the coffee table, your eyes gleaming with mischief. You knew Lando was competitive to a fault and losing was not something he took kindly to, especially not when it came to something as serious as a bet with Max.

Lando's eyes narrowed playfully as he watched you type away, his arms still around your waist. "Don't be too detailed," he murmured, his grip tightening slightly.

You glanced up at him, your smile widening. "Oh, I won't," you said sweetly, sending the text. "But he's going to know you didn't last five minutes."

Lando's eyes shot open. "You didn't!"

"Oh, I did," you said with a laugh, the sound like a melody in the quiet room. "And you know what?"

He tugged on your hair gently, bringing you closer. "What?"

"It was worth it," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. "Every single second."

You kissed him softly, your tongue darting out to trace his bottom lip. Lando's eyes closed, savoring the moment, his arms tightening around you. He knew you were right, that the thrill of being with you was worth any bet.

[matchaelette]

gif by @yoongi-bts

when jungkook is a vessel of love, and love is as beautiful as the poets said it was

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, the first time 'I love you' was spoken out aloud. the more earlier stages of their relationship. yearning, tenderness, fluff, it's all sickeningly full of love.

genre: fluff

warnings: none.

word count: 3.4k

notes: life updates. one: i'm back. obviously. two: jung hoseok is back and ksj 1 is coming (!!!) three: I am officially a uni student and majoring in civil engineering. classes start from the first week of december. four: I have decided to officially name this drabble series *drumrolls* the hopeless romantic series. so, without further ado, welcome back, our hopeless romantic couple!

you’re in love with jungkook.

no, you’re not allowed to say that.

fuck what you’re allowed and not allowed.

you’re desperately, helplessly, hopelessly in love with jeon jungkook. your gorgeous, gorgeous boy.

yours.

then why are you not allowed to be in love with him?

because you’ve been dating him for three months. three months.

only three months, since you decided to stop pining after him, decided it was enough, after god knows how long. three months since that decision led you to be extremely nonchalant around him, calm and collected to a point where it almost looked fake (you’re a terrible actor), and the next thing you knew, you were heavily making out with him in the chilly air of a fall night. calm and collected, indeed. three months since you learned that jungkook was pining for you in the same manner, if not more, and three freaking months since both of you decided to date, being head over heels for one other ever since.

it's too soon to say ‘I love you’. even if you know deep down that you were in love with him even before dating him– but there’s no way you’re treading that water. the realization of being in love with him right now is enough to freak you out. no, it’s definitely too soon to declare ‘I love you’.

because you don’t know whether jungkook feels the same way. although it’s not like you need or expect him to feel the same way you do. just because you’re in love with him doesn’t mean he has to be. you can happily wait until he’s ready and feels the same way.

you’re just scared that he doesn’t want to feel that way. that you’ll scare him away.

look at him. does he look like he feels the same as you?

jeon jungkook looks like a slow-motion daydream, standing in front of you. tight-fitting jeans, snug around the well-defined muscles of his thighs, and a black checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up, displaying the protruding veins of his arm. his curly hair covers the vein in his forehead, almost reaching down to his lips which were pouting in distress.

yeah, you don’t care how he feels. you’re in love with him.

but you are a graveyard of all the people you ever loved.

you can’t have jungkook join those ghosts of the past.

“three hours now. we’ve been trying to fix it for three hours.”, you shake your head, frustrated. you’ve been out all day today and the last thing you wanted to do when you got back home was your laundry. but the lack of fresh clothes compelled you to do it anyway. and everything would’ve been fine had you not entered your laundry room to discover the whole floor flooded with water. panicked and disoriented, your first instinct was to call jungkook, despite it being past midnight. when your boyfriend heard what had happened, he immediately demanded you step aside and that he was already on his way over to your house.

“this thing–”, the boy of your dream grumbles out loud in real life, breaking your thought train, “–hates me!”

oh, that.

now, it’s four in the morning and you’re both dripping wet, absolutely drained, standing in a puddle of water and soap. all you could do is to stare dejectedly at the washing machine. it was a losing battle.

“oh my god!”, jungkook cries out in indignation, “a minute ago it was sprinkling water in my face, now it’s sprinkling soapy water!”

“jungkook, move away”, you hurriedly pull your boyfriend away from your washing machine. he rebels under your grip, the patience he displayed half an hour ago was now transformed into rage.

how can someone be so cute when they’re mad?

“let me go, ash”, he points a threatening finger at the washing machine, “you wanted a fight, buddy? I’ll give you!”

“jungkook!”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, “it already won! look at us!”

jungkook stares down at your attached bodies, soaked from top to bottom, while the washing machine looks like it is having a field trip.

“okay, I give up”, he sighs and rests his chin on the top of your head, “unless–”

“no unless.”

“hear me out first”, he smooches your hair, “you smell amazing by the way. anyways, unless– wait, what was I going to say? I was supposed to say something amazing.”

“I’m sure it was amazing, babe”, you chuckle with fondness, “but that thing is a lost cause. I’ll call maintenance in the morning. let’s take a shower and go to sleep, okay?”

“mhm. yeah”, he replies in affirmation but only tightens his arms around you.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should’ve just– I don’t know. I mean, it was just a minor inconvenience. not a big deal. I don’t know why I freaked out–”

“princess, ssh”, jungkook coos, “you have a problem, you call me. doesn’t matter how small or big it is.”

“kook, I literally called you at one in the morning.”

“and I am very glad that I am the first person that crossed your mind. even though I couldn’t help you. I swear to god, this washing machine has a personal grudge against us.”

“thank you anyways”, you mumble against his chest.

“hey, this is what boyfriends are for.”

how is it possible not to love him?

you wake up to the humming of a honey-caramel voice in the distance.

you yawn and grab the crisply folded silk robe from the foot of your bed. the clothes haphazardly tossed on the ground last night were nowhere in sight, and neither was the person who did so. yet you could hear his hums, feel his warmth.

you smile.

the clock on the wall reflects a bright 11:10, and it’s safe to say that you’ve just woken up. after staying up with your rogue washing machine till four in the morning, you can’t really blame yourself. you feel very well-rested though, for the first time in a while.

jeon jungkook’s presence has that kind of power.

you make an effort to stay silent in your own house. your bare feet tiptoe against the icy floors, carrying you to the sweet melody you’re fairly certain is your boyfriend in the kitchen. and undoubtedly it is. jeon jungkook has his back turned towards you– white tee clinging to his physique, his hair damp and disheveled, singing softly to himself while doing the dishes.

you hold your breath and hug him from the back, resting your cheek against his spine.

jungkook, momentarily confused, laughs when he realizes it’s you.

“good morning princess.”

“good morning jungkook”, you inhale him in. he smells like peaches and baby soap. and fresh laundry. “you smell heavenly.”

“I just came out of the shower–”

 “–hey!”, you cut him short when he gently peels you off him, unexpectedly devoid of warmth, but jungkook hugs you back in an instant; your ear against his ribcage, his chin on the top of yours.

“mmm, that’s better”, you mumble, “did you do the laundry? you smell like detergent.”

 you can almost reach out and touch the outlines of his smile. “you couldn’t do it last night so I thought I’d take some work off your shoulders. I folded your clothes as well!”

“aww, you didn’t have to do– wait, the washing machine is fixed?”

“yeah, I called the repairmen in the morning and they said they were coming over. I was pretty surprised at how quickly they arrived.”

“what happened?”

“one of the pipes got leaked somehow. I think I also did some damage when I tried to fix it. but don’t worry, it’s as good as new.”

“not worrying”, you let go of jungkook and let muscle memory guide you to the coffee machine, “why did you wake up so early?”

 “it’s one p.m. in the afternoon. what’re you talking about?”, jungkook laughs.

“it’s one p.m.?!”, you choke on your coffee, “the clock– but it was eleven–”

“it’s out of battery. I got new ones though”, jungkook points at the bags sitting on your counter.

“you went grocery shopping? you spent an entire lifetime while I slept!”, jungkook chuckles at your awe, “tell me from the beginning. what did you do?”

“well, I called the repairmen as soon as I woke up and then I went to take a shower. they were here by the time I was done. I made us breakfast while they fixed your machine, went grocery shopping afterward, came back and did laundry, here I am now”, jungkook kisses your forehead, “all while someone slept like a baby.”

“oh my god. thank you so much.”

I love you.

“you’re welcome, babe”, he smiles, “I gotta leave now. but listen, I got you ice cream, popcorn and those salty chips you seem to love so much. call me if you need anything else.”

“huh? why though?”, you peer in confusion. you’re usually not very big on snacking. and jungkook knows that. unless it’s your–

“your period is supposed to start tomorrow, genius”, he rolls his eyes, “you don’t remember, do you?”

you clearly didn’t.

apparently, he did.

you tiptoe forward to hug jungkook, too stunned to form any coherent word. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the tears filling your eyes but when he lifts your face to gently kiss your eyelids, you realize that he knew you were gonna cry.

yeah, I definitely love you.

“hello, jungkookie’s girlfriend!”

kim taehyungs’s visibly enthusiastic face beams at you through the screen of your phone. your initial reaction is to wave brightly at him, despite the slight confusion of whether you accidentally called him when you picked up the phone to facetime your boyfriend.

“hi, tae!”, you say heartily, “gosh, it’s been a while since I saw you.”

“and whose fault is that, huh?”, taehyung’s voice is a warm breeze on a spring evening, “jungkookie tells me you’ve been like… hella busy”

“I was. I mean, I am. it feels like I am always busy these days”, you sigh, “but never busy enough for you guys! how are you?”

“good. busy as well, but good.”

“kook told me last night. you guys work way too hard.”

“wait”, taehyung exploded into laughter, “jungkookie was at your place last night?”

“...yeah?”

“our manager was looking for him and jungkookie was going on and on about how he was in his room all night and manager hyung didn’t knock loudly enough!”

“oh my god, he wasn’t supposed to be at mine yesterday?”

“no, I mean, he was done working but he didn’t tell anyone before leaving the dorm!”

“that might be my fault”, guilt fills your eyes, “I was doing laundry last night and my washing machine started leaking water everywhere. I panicked and called kook. I’m sorry”

“hey, it’s okay, no harm was done”, taehyung looks amused, “so you were doing laundry at midnight? no wonder jungkookie is obsessed with you.”

“obsessed with me, huh?”, you smile playfully, concealing the tiny somersault your heart does.

“he literally never stops talking about you”, taehyung grins widely, “bro is whipped”

“hmm, I did call bro’s phone, right? or did I accidentally call you?”

“how do accidentally call taehyung instead of jungkook? one starts with t and one starts with j”, taehyung suddenly looks disgusted, “unless you saved him as something weird, in that case, I don’t wanna know–”

“kim taehyung.”

“or you can just tell me that you missed me, you know”, taehyung flips his phone camera and you spot a dancing jeon jungkook in the middle of a huge practice room, “but since the only person you care about is jungkookie–”

“kim taehyung–”

“–you called him, okay?”, you hear taehyung’s laughter, “I was playing games on his phone. he’s practicing extra today.

“practicing extra?”

“he said you guys made plans to hang out tomorrow.”

“we– we did”, you’re puzzled. jungkook continues to dance furiously, his quick and precise movements almost defying gravity, completely unaware of his surroundings, “wait, we planned to meet tomorrow because both of us had a clear schedule. why is he practicing extra today?”

“hobi hyung was asking him the same thing”, taehyung nods his head in mock disappointment, “we don’t really have a free schedule tomorrow. but he said that if you couldn’t meet tomorrow it’d be a while before you did. right?”

“y-yeah”, you blink.

“soooo, yeah. as I said, bro’s so whipped.”

oh god. be still my wild heart.

“this boy”, you finally exhale after a pause; feeling bad that he’s overworking himself to meet your needs, feeling grateful that it’s worth it to him.

“this boy, indeed. no, actually, we’re kinda proud of how amazingly we raised him.”

“you really, really did. ya’ll should give out parenting lessons.”

taehyung chuckles, “okay, I’ll give the phone to him.”

“tae, don’t”, you smile, quickly stopping him from calling jungkook, “just tell him to call me whenever he’s free, okay? I’ll be up.”

“okay, then. take rest, okay? don’t overwork yourself.”

“look who’s preaching”, you shoot him a stern look, “the kings of overworking themselves. take care, okay?”

taehyung laughs, “yeah. come over to the dorm whenever you’re free. we all miss you.”

“I will. bye!”

“kook– stop it–”, you say in between a few puffs of breath, “you’re– god– tickling me!”

“am I?”, jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, and smothers his face on the exposed skin of your tummy once again, causing you to almost choke with another round of laughter. the sensation of his lips against your tummy has the butterflies inside going frenzy, but a part of you is scared shitless that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with yourself.

you want to laugh; you want to cry. you wanna twirl into a knot and fly up in the sky. jungkook has no idea of the power he has over you– his body molds into yours, one his hands have shaped, a design he has drawn, kissed it into a sculpture.

you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it.

I love you. I love you so much that I can’t deny it any longer, the promise stays silent on your tongue.

you wanna cry.

at least, you think you do.

“your heartbeat is going crazy”, jungkook calms down once he’s done tickling you out of your wits. he moves between your thighs and presses his ear against your heart space while gently laying his head on your chest.

yeah, do you know that is because I love you and not because you tickled the living lights outta me?

“princess?”, he asks quietly.

say it.

“princess?”, jungkook raises his head and looks at you, mildly concerned “are you okay?”

say something.

instead, you stare at him. you stare at his eyes. if eyes are actually a mirror of people’s souls, jungkook’s eyes perfectly represent his– filled to the brim with tenderness, tranquility, and mirth. a few years ago, you had read somewhere that humans were created from the burned-out embers of stars. you never believed it. the same folks who start wars, spill blood, stealing lying deceiving and doing everything evil, cannot be created from something so divine.

however, jungkook, over and over again, contradicts that belief. you have no doubt he’s born out of stardust. and fiery comets, northern lights, solar eclipses, everything magic.

“why are you crying?!”, jungkook’s anxious voice snaps you out of your reverie. without realizing you find yourself getting pulled up to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. “is it me? did I do something?”

“itsh nn-not”, you utter weakly but the words come out as a stifled sob. when jungkook doesn’t understand what you’re saying, he completely loses his composure. he lets go of you and attempts to pry himself away, fairly convinced that he must’ve done something stupid. but you dig your fingers in his arms, trying to communicate with your firm grip that he did nothing wrong. it’s you, you’re the stupid one.

it takes him a few more seconds to realize that you’re crying for something else altogether, and only then does he relax. he wraps his arms around you, letting you break down in his little protective bubble.

what is wrong with me? why does every feeling of mine come out as tears?

“it’s okay, it’s okay”, jungkook coos, “breathe. breathe with me.”

“inhale with me”, he holds eye contact and carefully guides your breath, “good. now exhale. in. and out. it’s okay. I love you. you’re okay, princess.”

and

everything

just

freezes

for a moment.

for a moment?

seems like a lifetime.

you never realize how many types of ‘I love you’s there are until they’re spoken out aloud. most ‘I love you’s are expressed as a confession, while there are some which are born out of panic. I love you. do you love me back? these ‘I love you’s are full of anxiety, and a desperate longing for reassurance, for arms that’ll keep them safe. some are born out of anger and frustration. I’m doing this for you, because I love you, why don’t you understand? then there are those which are born out of pure terror because I love you but I’m afraid that all I’ll ever do is hurt you.

jungkook’s ‘I love you’ sounded like it was nurtured, a flower that bloomed inside a long time ago. like a blanket woven from your favorite human on the entire planet and falling asleep with someone inside your heart no matter how alone you feel outside; a promise.

not that any of you were in the right state of mind to realize that.

you and jungkook realize at the same time. the words that have been spoken out to existence.

he stares at you; you stare at him. devastated, mouth hanging, eyes bulging. none of you breathing.

jungkook closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.

“that was not a mistake”, his voice is deep and low. you hold your breath, afraid to miss a single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I do. I will if you allow me to. not that I can help it– I mean, even if you don’t allow it I can’t help myself. I love you. it’s not like I can just un-love you! wait, why do I need your permission anyway? it’s my feelings we’re talking about! okay, but it does concern you”, jungkook looks mortified, “but still, you don’t have to say it back. it’s great if you do but like, there’s no pressure. just don’t tell me to un-love you because that one is none of your business, oka–”

you kiss him. you kiss the living lights out of him. jungkook doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just accepts everything– the way your lips smashes against his, the way your tongue envelops his, finding you in every corner of his mouth, feeling you in every inch of his skin; a drunkard clinging onto every last drop of alcohol yet never having enough.

jungkook is literally panting when you let go of him.

 “I was crying because I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a while now and I didn’t know how to say so”, you confess. only a few words are enough to make realization flash in his eyes. after all, he knows you. he knows you well enough to know everything, even the things he doesn’t.

“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to deserve this”, jungkook closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.

“I think this is your first life. you’re like the sugar in a cookie.”

“what? I thought I was the cookie!”, jungkook furrows his eyebrows, offended, “also, sugar isn’t good for you. what are you talking about?!”

you giggle in response.

“hey! take it back”, he overpowers you in a swift motion. he reels your bodies backward to hover over you, pinning your hands down on the mattress, smirking. “otherwise you’re gonna regret it.”

“regret? nah, I think I will enjoy it”, your smirk wipes off the one on his face.

“oh boy”, he sighs.

“jungkook?”

“yeah?”

“say it again”, you whisper.

“I love you.”

“again.”

“I love you.”

[yuikira]

𓈒࣪ The "you" shaped spot ₊✧

warnings: pure fluff, one implication of having sex, bits of crying, hurt/comfort, ooc kinich, very self indulgent, i apologize for mistakes.

GOD THE ANGUISH I FEEL SINCE THERE HAVE BEEN NO GOOD KINICH FICS RECENTLY

m so sorry mualani i love you but i hate you coz you're so shipped w kinich it makes me cry in anguish burn in despair and writhe in pain..coz hes mine. not yours. never yours (guys am i mentally ill)

"y/n?"

well, this was strange. if he still remembers how to read the time correctly, it's 3:30 pm and you should be at home today. yet he couldn't hear a single sound from the shared household, implying you were, infact, not at home. huh? that was wholly strange. you both had no urgent tasks for today, so where were you gone? your date was in 1½ hrs time, so he didn't have a tinge of worry about it. he knew you'd return by that time, even if you were gone somewhere. but where did you go anyway? to the balcony? xilonen's workshop? ororon's fields? mavuika's chambers? ifa's vet?

it was almost 5:30 by the time his patience finally ran out. you were nowhere to be seen, noone knew your whereabouts, your departure time was unconfirmed, and you didn't even tell him about it. he tried to distract away the thoughts that eerily haunted his mind, 'what if she's in danger? kidnapped? or perhaps, dead?'

he'd get nothing out of overthinking. finally, it all clicked to him where you could perhaps be found.

shit, and was his intuition right. he could hear the sounds of violent sobs drifting off in the sea breeze, some sniffles and pieces of incoherent speech here and there. they were yours.

"y/n? y/n!"

he gently held your shoulders and tried to pry off your palms from your face. is it too late? at last as he finally managed to do so, he saw your tinged red eyes, indicating you've been crying for a lot of time.

"what happened to you? babe? are you okay? please tell me- what happened to you? please, please please-"

"im fine, ichi, its alright"

"you dont look alright at all. what happened to you? who did this to you? this sadness?"

"oh it's just..um..this is embarassing.."

"no tell me, please baby, tell me. if you don't tell me and start crying again, i might just start crying too. please tell me"

"um.. it's...basically, these past few days I've felt like... you're.. avoiding me. like...everytime i try to approach you, you just- you just..shut me down. push me away. it maybe because I'm not living upto your expectations, but these past few days I've been feeling like you spend time with mualani more than me. it hurts so bad when my inner thoughts whisper to me, haunting me by saying stuff like you're giving the same lovesick smile to her as you do to me, and falling for her and- mfhm?!"

oh by gods, the way kinich just tenderly held you yet kissed constrastingly different, almost making you feel dizzy and lightheaded. you knew you weren't in the right state of mind after crying and struggling with your thoughts for so long, and his intoxicating kiss didn't help the matter at all.

at last when he finally pulls his lips away from yours, a tinge of bemused smile rests on his slightly chapped lips. him? in love with mualani? he'd rather give away his body to ajaw and keep himself locked in a small piece of memory inside your heart, so that as long as your heart beats, you both never get seperated. that was the best deal for him.

"look, im sorry I didn't tell you earlier and I'm sorry if I don't live upto your expectations and or are falling for mualani, its completely alright and-"

"Are you insane?"

"huh?"

"You are the words etched into my heart. You are the blood in my veins. You are the god I was born to worship. Who am I to commit such blasphemy?"

"i-ichi-?"

"You are the knowledge I seek. The love I pray for. The reason of my existence. And you still think I'd leave you?"

"wait no ichi i-"

"The symphony of my beating heart belongs to you. Only you. For long as I'm alive, its bound to beat for you. I love you, y/n. I love you so much."

Teardrops began to fall from your eyes again as he finished speaking. He'd never, ever been good with words, reflecting his love and care with his actions instead. Although he's trying to be more and more vocal for you, you'd never expected this from him.

That was the moment you realized, his heart was 'you' shaped, with every single bit of his sanity dedicated to you.

"And no, I.. I'm so sorry if i made you feel as if I'm avoiding you. I'm infact not. It's just the fact that.. I'd been trying to plan a surprise for you for our 4th anniversary, but..looks like I wasn't so slick with it. I'm sorry"

"No, no, it's fine, it's fine. I misunderstood, no need to apologise" you shook your head while holding one of his hands, the other wiping your tears off as he gently places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It's partially my fault, for making you feel this way. Let's go home, yeah? I'll try to make it up to you. Brownies and making love later?"

You smiled. "I love you so much, it's hard to put into words like you did"

"I love you more. You're forever my girl"

[yayll]

15!Dazai gives me cute aggression 😔😔 i wanna give him kisses and hug him allll the time and watch as his brain just blue screens because he isn’t to affectionate like that or the fact anyone wants to give him affection lime that anyway 💔

this is sooooooo true anon and you SHOULD say it

here at yayll we like to recognize the touch starved wet cat this man is and 15!Dazai not only is that but when faced with genuine affection has no other concept of what to do with it than to mimic it back to you in odd ways should he ever feel the same way. and if he does? it's over for you.

you gave him an unexpected hug? he'll try and give you one back, only for it to be unreasonablly tight and awkward, almost like he's trying to strangle you (he isn't, but he is.)

one day you patted him on the shoulder and he never felt such sweet validation that went beyond verbal acknowledgement... so to show you his appreciation, he patted you as well! on your head... like a dog...

my fav is when you both are clearly aware of each other's feelings and are a thing because then it turns up his cute aggression by a LOT. after that he just does things. he rolls his eyes and huffs like he's soooo annoyed and self sufficient but is secretly smiling to himself (he's so dramatic and needy) he also touches and overall invades your personal space WAYYY more now. it's still awkward and oddly interpreted! but it has purpose, it has heart, and it also has you wondering how could Dazai POSSIBLY get worse than what he already was?

"Okay, I really have to go and report now! I'll get chewed out if I miss another meeting."

he just tightens his grip on your wrist and swings it around like you're both skipping across a field and totally not at mafia headquarters. He smirks as he dismissively croons.

"... Awww, look who's so punctual. I'm an executive, they'll be fine with it. Besides! the timer's not up yet."

(yes he has a timer that you force him to set up when you both cuddle otherwise he will NOT let you go the entire day. BOUNDARIES OR WHATEVER.)

"Er, actually the timer went off 5 minutes ago... you just snoozed it."

He glares at you, and shrugs.

"Oh, that timer? I thought you meant the other one."

"What other one, Osamu?"

"Did you just say my name? Ugh, that's so formal and so uncalled for. I'm adding 5 more minutes to the timer~"

he's secretly blushing so hard every time you address him so casually and directly, he'll think abt it alllll day and night.

it seems you truly created a monster, or maybe you created a safe space for him to be one. either way, he's yours! <3

[kaliforniahigh]

Can you write about Noah and super short reader? I'm 4'11 🥺. Maybe he walks in on reader either climbing on the counter to reach something or standing on the counter looking for a snack. He starts keeping step stools in every room.

She wears his shirts like a dress with fishnets and doc martens on the regular.

Maybe they do the tiktok trend of 'showing my dog places they've never seen' but it's you being lifted by him to see above the fridge and other high places 😂

Ok, so a good while back I wrote about this exact same thought and someone made a drawing of Noah picking reader up so she can look over the fridge, but I can't find it for the life of me :((((( Anyways, I love this concept soo much!!!

Warnings: this is just fluff!

WC: 1.4k (a shortie, like the reader)

My requests are closed for now!

Noah has walked in on you climbing on things to reach somewhere or something way too many times. He's always made a mental note to keep a little step stool for you, to avoid the risks of you falling, but he actually never got around to it.

Deep down, he knows it's because he loves helping you. Loves thinking that you can rely on him to always do this one thing for you.

But, one day, he had to draw the line. You were cleaning his room, dusting the shelves and the frames he kept on the wall. The thing is, he hung them too high for you to reach, So, without thinking twice, you rolled his computer chair to where you needed it, and stepped on top of it.

You were humming some random tune under your breath, when you heard an alarmed voice behind you.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You got startled and felt the chair start to swivel and roll to the side, making you lose balance. Before you could fall to the floor, Noah was beside you, grabbing you by the hips and landing you on the ground safely.

"Oh my God! Why did you have to scare me?", you scolded him, giving him a little slap on the shoulder, trying to regain your composure after almost faceplanting on the floor.

"Why on earth would you stand on top of a rolling computer chair?", he questioned you, voice exasperated and eyes still wide from your almost accident.

"I was trying to clean the frames", you pointed to the various frames on the wall to get your point across.

"I saw that! But you need to be more careful. God knows what would've happened of I didn't catch you", he was still agitated, and that was agitating you.

"I would've been fine! I almost fell because YOU scared me!", you gestured with your hands, voice becoming a little louder.

Noah sighed out loud, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"Ok, maybe I shouldn't have startled you, but your idea was not the brightest", he tried to reason.

"I'm used to doing this. I've had to climb stuff my whole life to reach certain things", you turned around to resume your cleaning when Noah grabbed you by the hips.

"I'm sorry, ok? I don't mean to be a dick", he put both hands on your shoulder and started to massage them. "It's just that I worry about your well-being"

You relaxed into his touch, the tenseness leaving your body instantly.

"I know that. But the word is a very different place for someone who's 4'11''. You're 6'4'', things are way easier for you", you didn't mean to complain, but you did huff a little when you said this out of frustration.

"I know, I know", he pecked you on the lips. "I'm sorry, ok?", he looked you in the eyes, wanting you to know that he was being sincere.

"It's ok, I forgive you", you circled your arms around his middle and rested your cheek on his clothed chest. "I'm never standing on top of a rolling chair ever again".

"Not, you're not. Because I'm getting you a step stool instead", said and you whined.

"Noah, no. That's embarassing", you frowned at the ideia. You weren't a 12 year old anymore.

"What's more embarassing, a step stool, or going to the hospital, looking like a fool, because you fell from a chair?", he raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if to challenge you. You thought for a minute, but you knew he was right.

"Ok, you can get me a step stool. But it has to be foldable so I can hide it, and I won't step on it if people are watching", he smiled at your remarks, but actually impressed that you gave in so easily.

"I'll still grab things for you when I'm around", he put both hands on your back, rubbing them up and down.

"You better", you rested your head against him once again. "I'm tired of cleaning, you stressed me out. Let's go lay on the couch".

He laughed at your jab at him, but grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind you.

"Let's go. I can grab you some snacks from the top shelf", you slapped him lightly on the back, as he expected, and his laugh only intensified. He couldn't see you you, but you were also sporting a big smile on your face.

"I want the Doritos"

Everything has been going well since you made your deal with Noah. The day after the almost accident, he went out and bought you the step stoll, and you've been biting your tongue to admit that it was actually a great decision.

One day, when you were laying on the couch, casually strolling on your phone, you heard Noah coming down the stairs. He was working on some songs on his computer - or that's you thought he was doing - and you usually left him alone for that.

He stood in front of you, and you looked at him over the top of your phone. He didn't say anything, but he had a smile on his face that you weren't sure if you liked. Locking you phone and dropping it on your lap, you asked:

"What?"

"I saw this trend on TikTok and I wanted to do it with you", he had an expression on his face that told you you might not like this.

"Noah, you don't even have TikTok"

"I have a TikTok", he said this a little lower, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

"You have a TikTok?"

"I do", he averted his gaze from you.

"Since when do you have a TikTok?", you asked. He was unbelivable.

"That's not important right now. Have you seen this trend where owners pick their dogs up to show them places they haven't seen before?"

"Yes, I have. It's adorable", you anwered and side-eyed him at the same time.

"I wanted to do it for you", he said and waited for your answer. You just looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Are you comparing me to a dog?", you deadpanned, and saw his expression change immediately.

"No, baby, of course not. I just thought it would be cute"

"Yeah", you hummed, as if in thought". "It would actually be cute", you agreed.

"So you'll let me do it?", he asked, but was already opening his camera app on his phone.

"Yeah, I will, But we won't post it", you said, getting uo from the couch.

"What do you want to see first?", he asked.

"The top of the fridge", you walked to the kitchen and he followed after you. You positioned yourself and Noah propped the phone on the wall behind the fridge, the phone sitting on top of it.

"Ok, so I'll grab you by the hips and lift you up", he instructed and you nodded.

He tried picking you up the first time, but you started giggling, remembering the dog videos you watched. The movent threw him off and you landed back on your feet.

"What's so funny?", he asked, looking at you.

"I'm just remembering the dog videos. They look so confused, it's so funny", you giggled once more.

"Ok, I'll try it again", he picked you up once more and you were finally able to see on top of the fridge. When you saw it though, you let out a big gasp.

"What is it?", Noah asked you.

"Oh my God, Noah. It's so dusty up in here. I need to clean this right now", you exclaimed, running your finger over the top and seeing the trail it left behind.

"You gotta show me other places right now, because our house is dirty and I didn't even know it", you said and made your way to the bathroom. "C'mon, you gotta show me the top of the bathroom's upper cabinet"

Noah didn't even know what to say, he just followed after you, with a smile on his face at how absolutely adorable you were.

So the day went by like this, him showing you the top part of places and you insisting you clean them. But he didn't let you use the step stool this time, adamant on holding you, using the excuse that he didn't go to the gym, so this was him working on his biceps.

You were more than happy to feel the tight grip of his big hands around your waist.

[shybluebirdninja]

Growing Us

Summary       : Old Logan takes care of his pregnant wife. Note               : fluff

Logan’s POV

Her breathing was slow, steady, but I could tell she wasn’t asleep. I watched her from the doorway for a second, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. She was lying on her side, one hand resting on her growing belly, the other tucked under her pillow. My wife, strong as steel, but pregnancy was taking its toll on her.

I walked over, careful not to wake her if she had finally drifted off. As I got closer, she shifted, her eyes fluttering open and catching mine.

“Hey,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. She tried to sit up, but I quickly stepped forward, my hand resting on her shoulder.

“Easy, darlin’. You don’t need to move.”

She chuckled, but it was tired. “I’m fine, Logan.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said yesterday,” I muttered, sitting down beside her on the bed. “And the day before that. Doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see how exhausted she was. I’d never been one for all the baby talk or fussing over things, but seeing her like this—tired, carrying our kid—something inside me changed. Maybe it was that protective instinct or just the fact that she looked so damn beautiful, even when she was worn out.

“You’re hovering,” she teased, her hand reaching for mine.

I grunted, but my fingers wrapped around hers. “Not hovering. Just… watching over you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, squeezing my hand. “I like when you’re like this. All soft.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Soft? Darlin’, I ain’t soft.”

She laughed again, and the sound was like music to my ears. It had been a rough few weeks for her—morning sickness that didn’t just stick to mornings, swollen feet, and a back that was giving her hell. I’d give anything to make it easier, but all I could do was be here. So, that’s what I did.

“You hungry?” I asked, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “I could make you something. Or try, anyway.”

Her face softened, but she shook her head. “I’m okay, Logan. Just tired.”

Tired was an understatement. Her eyes were heavy, but she was fighting it. Always trying to be strong, even when she didn’t have to be.

“Then rest,” I said, my voice gruff but gentle. “I got everything covered. You don’t need to do anything.”

Her hand drifted back to her belly, and I couldn’t help but follow it with my eyes. It still blew my mind that we were doing this—starting a family. It wasn’t something I thought I’d ever have, not with the life I’d lived. But here we were, her body growing the next part of us, and I couldn’t imagine anything more important.

“Feel the baby,” she whispered suddenly, her eyes lighting up.

I blinked, then reached out cautiously, my rough hand gently resting over hers on her belly. A moment passed, then I felt it—a small, faint kick.

My heart did something weird, tightening and swelling at the same time. I’d fought wars, survived hell, but this? This was something else.

“She’s strong,” I murmured, my hand lingering there.

“She is,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth. “Just like her dad.”

I shook my head. “Nah. She gets that from you.”

We sat there for a while, neither of us saying much. I didn’t need words. This—just being here, feeling that life we’d created, seeing her in front of me—it was enough.

“Get some sleep,” I said after a while, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” she whispered, her hand still on mine.

Her eyes drifted closed, and I stayed where I was, watching over her like I always would.

[highprettybabyy]

Guilty as sin?

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: nat saves you from an asshole, you thank her by cooking dinner, smut ✨

Warnings: 18+, vomiting, violence, toxic man, sex, masturbation, caught masturbating, fingering, cunnilingus, nat's topping, writing in cum?

AN: i love Guilty as Sin? from TTPD, one of my favs 100%. also i saw someone on tiktok saying that they couldn't waterboard that information out of them that blondie's just confessing in her songs lmao. fkn love her ovulation songs hahaha, anyways plz enjoy.

word count: 4.7k

--//--

The gym was more crowded than usual, a lot of new agents having passed the first level of recruitment, which meant more people in the regular gym. Besides the ‘normal’ gym, there was a specialty gym that was more equipped for super humans in the basement, but you and a few others don’t like the atmosphere and prefer the natural sunlight this gym offers. Hence why one of the cocky new recruits was constantly pestering you.

“You should actually pull your shoulders back more.” He remarked, snide grin on his face as he let his weight fall against the machine you were using. “I think I’m fine, thanks” You muttered out. You wished he’d leave you alone, not in the mood to deal with shit like this today, but he was like a cockroach that wouldn’t leave you be. It’s actually baffling how this guy is still trying to make conversation, your giant noise-cancelling headphones not making it obvious apparently that you wanted to be left alone.

You huffed out in annoyance as he kept on criticising you, disguised as helpful commentary, followed by ‘flirty’ remarks that made you want to barf. He thought he was being slick, the way he kept on looking back to his friends by the weights station, then back to you with a revolting smile on his face. For a second you thought maybe he just wanted to use your equipment, so you grabbed your towel and water before leaving to the leg press. But he had just had to continue his boring, self-inflating, one-sided conversation about how he was top of the program, and that he’d be glad to show you “how it’s really done”.

After 15 minutes of his presence, Natasha walked in, and somehow time stood still as your soul felt the redhead walk in, eyes instantly connecting. You smiled for the first time that day, the mere sight of the redhead calming every tense nerve in your body. Her firm gaze softened upon meeting yours, to most people her expression looked unmoved but you knew she had a little soft spot for you. She nodded slightly in greeting before moving to the treadmills by the entrance of the gym.

The guy still hadn’t taken the hint. “You’ve gotta place your feet closer together actua-“ “Hey, dude I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to work out in peace here, if you don’t mind?” You kept calm as you removed your headphones to directly speak to him, offering a curt smile to try to not upset him too much. He didn’t seem to like that too much, raising his voice as he told you that he was just trying to help and make conversation. You frowned at that, stating that a conversation is between two people and that he’s been talking uninterrupted for the last 20 minutes.

Natasha took notice of the slight change in her surroundings as a lot of people became uncomfortable from his behaviour. She shut off the treadmill and walked over to investigate where the noise came from. “Whatever bitch, you’re just jealous that I’m fucking better than you, you were probably one of the last in the recruitment program anyway.” He spat. Before you could retort a very angry Natasha Romanoff stood in between you, staring him down.

He shrank slightly under her piercing gaze as she crossed her arms, but he still wasn’t backing down completely. “What do you want?” He scoffed, pretending as if he wasn’t about to wet himself. “Your name and recruitment ID.” She simply stated, posture unwavering. “I’m not telling you that.” “Oh well ok then, how about we spar for it?” She asked, head tilting slightly. He barked out a laugh “Hah, I don’t fight women.” You decided to jump in, you couldn’t wait to see Nat pound this guy into the floor. (although you wished that she pounded you into the floor instead, wink, wink)

“Aww, someone’s scared.” You pouted, hoping to rile this unrightfully smug guy up. “I’m not fucking scared of some chick! Alright then, fucking bring it on!”

-

The boxing ring quickly cleared out seeing the Black Widow and some temperamental 6’3”toddler approach, with you skipping just a few steps behind them. They each took their position across each other before the referee signalled they could start. The douchebag immediately went for the offense, Natasha effortlessly dodging everything he threw. Only futile efforts were made from his part. You could see the desperation in his fighting, using illegal techniques and effectively making the ref yell at him. You’re honestly surprised that Natasha hadn’t beaten him to a pulp yet, you would’ve knocked him out before the sound of the whistle could register in his head. But Natasha is a paradox, and she has her reasons.

He huffed loudly, frustrated under the watchful eyes of his buddies, who started laughing at his antics. “Come on, you dodgy bitch!” Echoed through the room, followed swiftly by a loud smack and thud. Natasha bent down to pull his ID from his vest pocket. “Tyler West, 1109.” She dropped the card on his face while he was still down, before hopping out of the ring.

“Why did you take so long, Nat, he could have been out since the starting whistle?” You joked, a large smile covering your face, while you collected your things to leave. “Now where’s the fun in that, Y/N?” She retorted. “No, but seriously thank you, I was this close-“ you accentuated by basically pressing your fingers together “to losing my shit completely.”

The rasp in her voice was audibly heard as she chuckled. “Anytime, Y/N.” God- that voice. You smiled up at her as her woodsy perfume entered your airways, effectively paralysing you. Piercing emerald eyes looked down at you. Your tongue unconsciously darted out to wet your lips, an action not unnoticed by the redhead in front of you. “I’ll make sure he gets fired for his behaviour, he shouldn’t even have passed the recruitment test with how shitty he was acting.” You looked down as Natasha still felt traces of anger flowing through her, but the touch of your hesitant hand grabbing hers calmed her down quickly.

“How about I cook you dinner tonight as a thank you?” You fiddled with her hand a bit before looking up again hopefully. Natasha’s lips quirked up, before nodding and stating that that would be lovely. You smiled again, a very tender moment that was rudely interrupted by West throwing up from the concussion. Your smile turned into a look of disgust. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you tonight.”

-

As you were preparing dinner for you and Natasha, Wanda walked into the kitchen. “Hmmm, smells nice detka. What are you making?” You greeted the witch with a smile. “Some slow braised pork belly for ramen.” Wanda raised her eyebrows, “Wow, what’s the occasion?” You looked down with a blush spreading quickly to your cheeks as you thought about the earlier events. “Well, Nat helped me with something earlier today, so I’m cooking dinner to thank her.” Wanda grinned.

“So you’re finally confessing??” She exclaimed with joy. “NO.” You glared jokingly at your best friend, making her burst out in laughter. She is.. aware of your feelings for Natasha, to say the least. “Come on, how long are you planning to wait until you’re going to express your longings to her?” This time you laughed, “HAH, I’m keeping these longings locked inside a vault. For evermore.” Scoffingly crossing your arms to accentuate your point. Wanda rolled her eyes lightly before you spoke up again after tasting your broth. “Plus she doesn’t even like me how I like her.”

Wanda’s hand smacked against her face in frustration. “Y/N omg just ask her.” You took another spoon and dipped it in the broth, softly blowing on it to cool it down before handing it to the annoyed witch. “No.” You said as she sipped the contents of the spoon. “Damn, that’s good.” You smiled in victory as you stirred the pot again. “How did she help you to deserve such a delicatesse? I’m doing that next time.”

“She euhm- there was this shitty guy bothering me at the gym, and she knocked him out.” Wanda stared at you wide-eyed, thinking of taking you to a specialist ophthalmologist because you must be fucking blind to not see all the signs. “Oh, and she’s getting him fired.” You pulled your lips in a tight smile as you waited for Wanda to react. She turned around and left the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to say “Only your actions talk.” before walking off.

-

You had about 30 minutes until dinner, having agreed to eat at 7. Ok, ok. Pork belly is resting. Bowls are preheating. Soy marinated eggs are in the fridge. Chili oil is cooling down. Scallion: sliced. Yellow chili: sliced. Tiny bakchoi: prepped. Broth is simmering. Bean sprouts… are bean sprouting.. I feel like I’m forgetting something..

You looked around, everything was clean, you had a candle going on the table and everything except the bowls was already laid out. You looked down and saw the mess on your clothes.

CLOTHES! O M G. Ok shit what am I going to wear, what is she going to wear? Omfg how much time do I have left. I look like shit. ‘She’s going to laugh at me - Jezus she’s not going to laugh at you, it’s Nat. – Yes she is, who wouldn’t? look at me? There’s soy sauce on my pants! – Let’s fucking change first before she gets here! –‘

“Oh my god Y/N if you don’t stop fucking spiralling I’m going to hurt you.” Wanda called out in a sing song voice. You looked at her, a bit in shock, before realisation struck over you and you gave her a cheeky smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realise.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards your room.

-

After rummaging through your closet for a few minutes, you hadn’t found anything that felt right to wear. You were getting frustrated and you felt like throwing yourself to the ocean rocks. “Wait here.” Wanda ordered you as she walked out the door. She returned a few minutes later, with a stunning flowy green dress. “Oh Wanda you absolute angel! This is gorgeous, where did you get this?” You thanked her furiously, kissing her cheek until she pulled away in annoyance. “I had it laying in my closet, I was going to wear it on a date with an ex of mine, but we broke up before I could wear it so.” She explained.

“Oh, are you sure I can wear it? I can find something else?” You hesitated, trying to hand the dress back to Wanda. “Of course it’s alright, I can use this in my maid of honour speech when you guys get married.” She laughed as you rolled your eyes, thanking her again. She wished you good luck, leaving you to get changed and finish your look.

-

You finished in the nick of time, rushing back to the kitchen were you bumped into someone. Yeah, it was Natasha. “Woah there.” She held you upright as you almost fell. “Omg hi Nat, I’m sorry for crashing into you.” You finally were able to take a good look at each other. Natasha wore a tight black button-up and black suit pants and again her scent invaded your nose stronger than ever. You took a shaky breath, heavily affected by the sight and smell of her.

You failed the way Natasha’s eyes raked over you. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Your gaze snapped up to hers. “I- well, I- Thanks Natty.”

-

You took the bowls out of the oven with oven mitts, carefully plating the ramen noodles, everything (culinary wise) was running smoothly. You ushered a curious Natasha to the table, wanting to surprise her with the presentation. It looked beautiful when you brought it to the table, placing it delicately in front of the redhead, then placing your bowl down. You took off the oven mitts and tossed them on the counter before sitting down to see Natasha entranced by the sight. “Y/N… this looks, and smells, so fucking good.” She groaned out in a deep and husky voice. Your mouth dropped open at her tone, it sent shivers down your spines and through your bones.

“Thank you so much, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.”  She looked at you softly, entranced by the way the candle flickered in your y/e/c eyes. The window behind you was cracked open, letting in a soft early spring breeze that caused the occasional shiver to run over your arms. You nervously bit at your nail as you waited for Natasha’s reaction. She softly smiled as she lifted her chopsticks to her mouth.

Strangely this was the first time Natasha was tasting something that you cooked. She usually orders something, or Wanda brings her something, or Tony orders catering, stuff like that. But after tasting the ramen, she moaned.

Your face flushed quickly, so did hers after realising what she’d just let escape. She coughed nervously, “Wow, this is good.” You didn't dare look into her eyes as you thanked her, trying to hide your obvious blush from the watchful spy in front of you.

-

After you finished dinner you were saying your goodbyes. Natasha leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I hope I get the chance more often to taste your cooking.” You smiled and retorted “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You talked for a few more minutes before saying good night to each other and going your separate ways, even though your rooms are next to each other. But Natasha had to go check on something in Tony’s office before she could call it a night.

-

You were laying on your bed, half naked. You took off the dress and your shoes after the ‘date’ and tried to cool off on your bed in just your bra and underwear. You dragged your hands over your face. But every time you closed your eyes, the image of Natasha in that tight shirt haunted you. This triggered a train of thoughts. Natasha in tight clothing, Natasha working out and sweating, Natasha taking a protective stance in front of you, Natasha’s gaze earlier. You must be seeing visions.

I’m going mad.

Every frame in your head made you hotter and hotter.

Natasha crashed through the door, her wild gaze found you and in only a few long strides she reached you, cupping your face before devouring you. Her hands gripped your waist possessively, roaming towards your back as you melted into her grasp. You let out an soft moan as her tongue explored your mouth. Your actions turned fast and desperate, messy top lip kisses as the sounds reverberated through the dimly lit room.

“Please.” You sighed out as Natasha moved her lips to mark your neck. She moved you backwards until your knees hit the bed. You fell and dragged Natasha on top of you. Her weight pressing you into the mattress was comforting and she pressed you further down as she devoured you. Her hand came up to grip your jaw, keeping you in place as she explored your mouth. Pulling delicious sounds out of you with every action.

Your hand travelled south, slipping underneath the fabric of your underwear as your eyes were forcibly shut close, trying to visualise the scenario in your head. “Oh, Nat-“ Your other hand gripped your jaw, like the way Natasha did in your fantasy.

“Please Natty-“ You pleaded, finally opening your eyes to look at her. Her eyes were hooded as she took the sight of you in. “What baby, ask nicely.” She said, mouthing at your exposed collar bone. “Please, take me.” She groaned against as soon as your words registered in her head. “Yeah? Want me to take you? Make you feel good?” You nodded desperately, pulling her face back in to kiss her. A high whine leaving your throat.

Her hand quickly pulled your underwear down, her face following quickly, placing open-mouthed kisses on every patch of naked skin she could reach. She wrapped her hands around your thighs, locking you in place before dragging her tongue through your sopping wet folds.

“OH, Oh – Oh my god Nat. Please- please” You were whimpering out, your fingers collecting your arousal before rubbing it on your clit teasingly.

“You taste so good baby.” Natasha husked out. She was building you up so slowly, but so strongly. It was like she knew your body better than you did. Your breathing became laboured, seemingly struggling to handle the way she was building you up to something that would feel like a supernova exploding through you. The redhead noticed of course, pulling away to place a kiss against on your hip. “Breathe for me, gorgeous.” She said as she inserted a finger into you. It’s like she wanted you to fail.

You gasped, one hand grabbing at her forearm as the other held the sheets in a white-knuckle grip. A tear slipped down from your eyes and into your ears. She felt so fucking good. “God you’re gripping me so tight, malysh, all for me.” You whined as she inserted another finger into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you. “Yours.”

The sight of you made her feral, your chest quickly rising and falling as she pulled so many delicious sounds and gasps from you. It came to a point where her tempo became unrelenting as all you could do was lay there and take everything she gave you. The sloshing sounds reverberated through the room and the atmosphere reeked of sex.

She moved up so she could kiss you again, missing the feeling of your lips against hers. You could hardly kiss her back, overwhelmed by the feeling of her skin against yours and her fingers unravelling you. “Hmm you’re almost there aren’t you? You wanna cum princess? You wanna cum for me?” She moaned against your neck, licking a stripe up to your jaw and then behind your ear before biting the sensitive skin there, which is what brought you over the edge. You shook against her, waves of pleasure crashing over you. It felt surreal, like your spirit left your body for a brief second. You thought this was the perfect way to die.

“OH NATASHA!“ You screamed out in pleasure. Fingers rubbing tight circles over your sensitive nub. You were convulsing, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. Your chest was heaving as you rubbed your non-occupied hand across your body, hoping it would calm you down enough to remove the black spots from your vision. You felt hot, the sheets underneath you feeling like they’re on fire.

She pulled her fingers slowly out of you, so you wouldn’t be shocked into the empty feeling. While making hard eye contact she took her cum-covered index finger to write ‘mine’ on your upper thigh, before moving her fingers up to her face to suck them clean.

“Y/N, are your okay??” Natasha called out as she burst through the door. She wasn’t expecting the sight in front of her. You sprawled across your bed, hand in your panties, sweaty and panting. Your eyes shot open in terror. Natasha quickly realising her misstep as she made eye contact with you. You quickly covered up with a blanket that was laying beside you.

“Nat, omg, hi- what-“ You stuttered out, you don’t think you can play this off anymore. “Y/N, I’m so sorry but I thought I heard you calling my name..?” She looked at you apologetically. The blood rushed into your cheeks, tinting them maroon. “I- euhm, well-“ You stammered. Natasha being the professionally trained spy that she is, quickly put two and two together after her initial chock.

“Oh, you were calling my name then?” She crossed her arms and kicked the door shut, suddenly a lot more confident that you might return her feelings. You were sure that the amount of blood that rushed to your face was harmful. “This is an interesting predicament I have found you in, malyshka.. Screaming my name? With your fingers buried in that pretty pussy? Hmm?”

She inched closer to you as you didn’t seem to object. “Were you thinking of me?” Natasha asked. You saw the way her eyes were looking at you now, pupils dilated so much that her irises looked black. The way her mouth hung open slightly as she took you in. Maybe Wanda was right, maybe Natasha did like you. You didn’t want to leave her hanging any further, insecurity slowly creeping up the redhead’s spine, thinking she might’ve been dreaming that her affections were mutual.

You nodded slowly, and the spy beamed. “Yeah? You were? – Use your words, baby.” She asked as you started nodding again. “Yeah, I-I was..” You turned very shy, forcefully closing your eyes and gripping the blanket that barely covered you until your knuckles turned white. “Hmm, and what was I doing?”

“Y-you were touching me.. making me feel good..” She was standing next to you now, eyes looking down at you with an indescribable look of hunger. You looked up at her, and the aura in the room turned hot. “And how was I doing that exactly, sweetheart?” She asked as she sat down next to you, the blanket falling of your body slightly, exposing new skin that Natasha can admire.

If you were reading the signs wrong, you were going into the Canadian woods to throw yourself to the wolves.

“Like this.” You grabbed her hand with the one that you used to get off mere minutes ago, fingers still sticky from your arousal, and manoeuvred it inside your panties, before taking two of her fingers and sliding them against you.

Natasha looked absolutely and desperately feral now, swallowing the large lump in her throat to try and ground herself. She moaned as she took over control, rubbing her fingers up and down your slippery folds. You removed your hand as Natasha continued her administrations, using your other hand to grab hers to intertwine your fingers. “Y/N, baby, this wet from only thinking about me?”

You let out a whine while nodding, “Please.” You don’t know what you were begging for, your mind was already partially gone from your first orgasm, Natasha could take the reins. Maybe that’s why you were begging, begging for her to take control.

She brought your hand up, kissing each knuckle before pulling both of her hands away. You whined and shook your head. “N-No please don’t leave me, please I need you, I love you. I can’t-“ “Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere. Y/N” Natasha interrupted you before it hit her. “Y-you love me?” There were tears in your eyes, suddenly overcome with emotions as you nodded again. You mistook her momentary silence as rejection as you started pulling your knees up to your chest, but they were forced down again as Natasha leaped against you, kissing you hard.

Rivulets kept streaming from your eyes as you kissed, fusing Natasha’s delicious taste with the saltiness from your tears. She eventually pulled away, breathing short and heavy. “I love you too, Y/N.” Your lips turned upwards and the sad tears turned into happy ones as you professed your love again. She pulled you in again, embracing you in her strong arms, as she placed gentle kisses to the side of your face.

You grabbed her jaw to move her lips to yours again. She immediately deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth greedily. She manoeuvred herself so she could lay between your legs, which wrapped around her waist. Natasha could feel the heat radiating from your core and she had never been turned on this much.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” She sighed out against your lips, her hand travelling south again to pull your underwear off. She nipped your collarbone as she shoved your underwear in her pocket, before slipping her fingers between your folds again.

“Oh, Nat.” You breathed out, and you felt her smile against you. She lowered her mouth to your breasts, which were still covered by your bra. This didn’t seem to bother her, as she simply dragged it down to free your breasts, instantly wrapping her lips around your hardening nipples. “Oh, oh, Natty, oh.” You were a whining, blabbering mess. Natasha unravelling you so delicately.

Just as she used her teeth to graze your nipple, she inserted two fingers into you. You gasped loudly, reaching down to grab Natasha’s back harshly with your nails. Even though she’s still fully clothed, she hissed from the sudden sting. You were clawing at her, the urge to feel her skin overwhelming but you couldn’t find the words, instead letting out desperate whines, in hope she’d understand.

Luckily for you, she did, and she took off her jacket and shirt, leaving your hands free to roam her skin. She kissed you briefly again before finally travelling down to taste you. She laid between your legs, grabbing a pillow and signalling you to lift your hips. She placed the pillow underneath you and grabbed your thighs to pull you down.

She sighed contently, placing a delicate kiss above your mound, followed by biting at your inner thighs. She took her time, placing marks everywhere she wanted while you were whining and trying to move your hips closer to her mouth. “Patience, malyshka, I want to take my time with you.” You couldn’t think, lost in the way her mouth feels on you. You couldn’t wait for when she’d finally delve between your folds again. Only breathless pleads left your mouth.

“Please- please” You chanted while searching for something to hold, Natasha offered her hand again and placed it on your lower abdomen, which you gratefully grabbed with both of your hands. Natasha kept teasing you until you finally looked down. She was already looking up at you, “Atta girl.”

A breathless moan escaped you, followed by high pitched whimpers, as Natasha finally dragged her tongue over your sensitive clit. She explored your sex, a combination of kissing, nipping, broad or pointed strokes of her tongue, inside, outside, everything. This woman was devouring you like she’d been starving her entire life. This felt like the beginning of the end, like you would die if she continued, but if she stopped you were sure you’d suffer the same fate. And dying with her tongue shoved deep inside you was better than any other option laid out on the table.

Her free hand had loosened around your leg, and was actively travelling to where Nat was unfolding you. She removed her tongue, but quickly silenced your upcoming whines and protests by stretching you out on her fingers. You squeezed Natasha’s hand hard enough to bruise, and she pressed her hand down lightly to put pressure on your lower stomach. You felt so, so full.

She even started scissoring her fingers to fully rub against your walls, and you screamed out “NAT- OH, OH”. “I know my sweet girl, you are so close aren’t you, I can feel you squeezing my fingers, I can hardly move them.” You were aimlessly nodding to everything she said. “Yes, YES- PLEASE” She adjusted her head a bit, kissing your hip before wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking. “NATASHA-“ You let out a strangled cry, cumming around her fingers.

You were right, you died for a moment, you were sure of it. Your breath halted as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over your grave, your entire body convulsing. Natasha used the hand that you were crushing to rub over your hip and ribcage, hoping to calm you down. You finally gasped in a breath of air and searched for her hand to hold again. You were still breathing hard as you looked down at soft emerald eyes.

She slowly pulled out of you and sucked all except one of her fingers clean, using that one to write ‘mine’ on the place you fantasised about.

[inkonparchment]

Class of '95

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

The tie rests in his pocket, feeling his throat constrict enough by the memories from a lifetime ago as Leon stands in his old high-school gymnasium. His breathing exercises carry him through the evening until his breath knocks out of him when he sees you again.

warnings/tags: older Leon. allusions to alcoholism. fluff. high school sweethearts.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i dont know if anyone has seen '10 Years' but this heavily inspired from that especially the song 'Never Had'. that and 'From Eden by Hozier'. also i know thats infinite darkness Leon in the banner but i had more death island Leon in mind. anyways, happy reading! this may be lame but its all i have to offer

Leon is glad he decided to forgo the tie, a last-minute decision he made sitting in the shadows of his car, staring blankly at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. The silence had been too loud without the car in ignition, occupied by a sudden itch to grip the steering wheel and drive off, daunted too much by the expanse of his old high-school. He feels like a fraud returning, no longer finding any specks of the person who used to wander down the halls, sit in the classes and occupy the benches in the cafeteria, his carefree demeanour carrying him through the days. 

He could hear the muted drawl of music bleeding from the doors, the balloons and décor scattered across the entrance with a banner reading ‘Welcome Back Class of ‘95’ in greeting. God, that made him feel old, the constant ache in his back a constant reminder of the toll the years had taken on him. 

The walk in isn’t so terrible, wiping the sweat from his hand as he comes across the registration desk, a kindly looking face asking for his name. He nearly laughs at the ‘hello my name is’ sticker, the marker squeaking as he scribbles on his name and pastes it on his jacket right above his heart. 

Leon feels his fingers twitch when someone shouts his name in disbelief, turning around to blink in the face of two men who were previously occupied with their own conversation. He recognizes them in an instant, his teammates from the football team. Youthful faces drowned by wrinkles, grey sprinklings in their hair and torsos full of muscle now replaced with a softening belly; but their smiles are still the same. He walks over to them, gripping their hands firmly in handshakes, disbelief on their faces when they register that it is Leon. 

Where have you been, man? We thought you were dead! Wow, it’s been so long. 

It’s all the same set of questions and remarks he gets when he tours the gymnasium floor. Yes, he can’t believe it’s been so long. No, he’s just been busy with work so no time for a missus or kids. Ah, what about work? He doesn’t want to bore anyone with the boring mumbo jumbo. Yeah, he’s disappointed the police thing didn’t work out but what can you do? 

His words soon start to feel rehearsed, like an actor on scene waiting for his cue, a smile plastered on his face to dazzle the audience. Leon does a fine job of it, relaxing when he realizes that it’s easy with these people who are more eager to talk about their wives, husbands and kids. He feels envy grow within him as his eyes get stuck on their greying features, the softness of their added age and the glittering bands of their rings. 

It feels disorienting almost seeing his classmates living the life he had pictured for himself long ago, a life he didn’t realize he wanted so much now. Maybe there was something about coming stunningly close to death as of late, not that it wasn’t usual for him. Perhaps the one too many knocks against his head had finally straightened out his disarrayed thoughts into linearity.  

The praises that are aimed his way are quickly dismissed by Leon, shrugging all the ‘you look really fit’s and ‘your hair is in great condition, between the kids and job I don’t have the time to dye it’ like bullets clattering to the ground, puncturing him in the aftermath. He has nothing to show for his life save for the scar marks and the unhealed bullet wounds littering his body. Their voices would not carry a tone of wistfulness if they truly knew his reality. 

Leon needs a breather. And like a dog to a bone, he retreats to the bar in the corner. 

It’s mostly empty, smiling politely at the couple that walks away with their beverages. He leans against the bar, grateful for the coolness underneath his palm as he orders his drink. Whiskey on the rocks with a twist. 

Leon struggled with the concept of autonomy for the majority of his 20s and 30s, anger rippling through his system with his teeth grit whenever he would be dispatched at a moment's notice. Every reverberation of his trusty Matilda was doused in casual rage of the irony of his helplessness in deciding his fate as he ensured the normalcy of those back home. Mission success after success that Leon paid for with his freedom, his aching body and greying years, mourning the naive version of himself that saw the world with a gleaming lense. 

He accepted his fate soon enough, made peace with the life he knew he was too much of a coward to leave, courtesy of his survivor's guilt or hero complex, he doesn't know. He really doesn't want to find out. Perhaps it’s the shift in his reality, a peek into a life outside where he isn’t vital to the national or global security. It tugs at the strings of his heart when he realises there’s serenity here. This thought does little to alleviate the deep ache within his chest as he watches his old classmates. 

This is difficult for the reasons Leon never prepared himself for, bitterness flooding him as he mulls over the possibility of the life he could have had. Would he be like everyone else here? Would smiling come easy, a wedding ring on his finger and pictures of his kids ready on his phone, proudly brandishing it out on a moment’s notice? What does he have to show for himself apart from the scars and wounds that litter his body? 

The bartender slides Leon’s drink in front of him, parting with a polite smile. He stares at the amber liquid, ice floating on its surface and the itch in the back of his head that he had tried hard to bury returned. Leon grabs the glass, swirling it for good measure and brings it up to his lips. The whiskey barely grazes his lips when a familiar sounding laugh freezes him in place. His pulse flutters, a statue in poise, back turned to the crowd when the sweet noise filters through again to his ear. 

And suddenly Leon feels himself thrown back to the year 1995 on his own personal time machine, bubbling up memories that he had long forgotten, evoking emotions he thought he didn’t know how to feel anymore. The laugh is light and airy, so gentle and delicate, encompassing his entire being, intoxicating him once again like it did when he heard it for the first time during chemistry class. 

He remembers the softness of your skin when you two had accidentally bumped hands reaching for the popcorn, blushing bright in the darkened theatre before he gathered the courage to hold your hand firmly, never letting go again. 

Leon swears he can taste the butter on your lips when you had bravely kissed him on the doorstep of your home, a grin permanently latching onto his face. His ears ring with the sound of your cheers from the stands, louder than anyone, wildly waving your homemade posters for his games, always present come rain or hail.   

Leon is almost afraid to turn, not wanting to disturb the way his mind has painted you in beautiful strokes, conjuring up a picture so vivid that he feels he can touch if he reaches out. But curiosity gets the better of him, lowering the untouched drink down with a thunk and slowly turning around. Leon forgets how to breathe for a moment. Is it in, in? Out in? No, it’s in and out. He tries to catch up to missed breaths, eyes hung onto you. 

You look just as beautiful as the day he last remembers seeing you. It overwhelms him. Time clearly passed you by but not in the same way it had him; brutish, barbaric and aggressively tossing him on the hard concrete. No, time had been gentle with you, tenderly caressing you in its palm, nuzzling you softly as it swept you with it. 

Your smile is still the same Leon fell in love with, proud at having being the receiving end of it quite often, adoring the way you still throw your head back a little when you laugh. There is an air of elegance about you, evidence of the years that you had culminated, experiences under your belt that had transformed you into the person that was standing just a little distance away from him.    

Leon watches you intently as your eyes flicker over to where he’s standing, words fumbling from your lips as you jerk your head back up and do a double take. Your eyes blink furiously, widening in surprise as though you never expected to see him in a million years. You stumble off an excuse to the people you were talking to, eyes not daring to stray away from him. 

His drink is long forgotten, hands both nestled in his pockets, heart thrumming in his chest as he waits for you to make your way to him. There’s a certain peculiarity in how you do; a strange mix of shyness and disbelief. Your steps are light and airy, features softening as Leon grows more vivid in your line of sight. There’s something familiar in the way you walk to him, something akin to how he watched you descend the stairs of your house as he had waited at the bottom, staring at you in awe with a corsage gripped tight in his hands. Even in the picture your mom had snapped, Leon was still looking at you.  

Warmth floods him when you come to a stop in front of him, glee on both his and Leon’s face, hidden beneath timidness. He takes the first leap.  

“Hey,” Leon smiles. 

You laugh and it is oh so sweet, stronger than a shot of espresso. “Hi.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

What do you say anyways to the most important person in your youth who you thought would be a constant? The breakup had been difficult but inevitable with the two very different paths you and Leon had picked out for yourselves. It was terribly heart aching with fingers gripping each other’s tightly, silent tears running down your face as you tried to inscribe every forehead kiss from Leon to memory with the sun setting in the far-off distance. Come morning he would be long gone, both of you deciding that it would be unbearable to start a new day without the sun shining on them both.  

What do you say after all these years have passed shaping you into different versions of the same person you once knew so long ago?  

“It’s really good to see you Leon.” Well you could say that for starters. 

A small puff of air leaves Leon’s throat, glancing down at the floor momentarily before looking back into your eager eyes. His heart clenches as he notices they still glow. “It’s good to see you too.” An understatement truly, it’s magical to see you again. He thought he never would again, his mind drifting to you in his moments of darkness, clinging on to the memories as they would rejuvenate him. His sentiment is a lot more loaded than yours, he realises, his guardian angel now materialised in front of his eyes.  

You flit about, mess with your hair, pull it behind your ears, trying to look at him whole with little glances. “I uh...I thought you didn’t attend these things.”  

“I didn’t know there were these things to attend,” He shrugged. Its true, it’s quite hard to reach him when none of his old contact numbers or emails work. Leon’s a hard man to reach. It was a surprise to him when Hunnigan had all but slammed the plane ticket and the print out of his old high-school reunion on his desk. He didn’t even bother asking how she got the information, feeling scrutinised under her hard gaze and her You need a break too, Leon. He’ll buy her favourite bottle of wine first thing back.  

“Well you know it is hard to reach you.” You tilt your head to the side, teasing glinting in your eyes. “No phone number, no address, no email either. Its almost like you vanished off the face of the earth.” 

Leon feels the tips of his ears grow hot, suddenly feeling a bit ashamed. You continue on with a casual shrug of your shoulders, “Every text or email I sent you bounced back so I just thought you didn’t want to catch up.”  

That turns him into a statue. What? “You tried to contact me?”  

A streak of blush colours your cheeks. “I mean not that frequently. Just like a couple of years back I guess? I don’t know I just did it on a whim. The text didn’t go through and neither did the email so...you know I thought you didn’t want to be contacted.” 

He didn’t know what to do with the information that you thought of him while he thought of you. He never imagined that you would actually try to reach out to him, why would you? Leon assumed you’d be well settled in your life now; husband, kids, the white picket fence. Isn’t that what the two of you would fantasise about, sharing whispered giggles huddled under the sheets?  

But there’s curiosity gnawing at his bones. He’s noticed the empty ring finger on your left hand about how you’ve spent ten minutes chatting with him here and no man has slipped his hand against your waist. You’re here, talking to him, in no rush to meet anyone else. Leon feels his fingers twitch, he would never let you out of his sight. 

He blinks, an easy smile settling on his lips, gazing at you softly at your confession. “I thought about you a lot too.” He wants to thread his fingers through your hair, tucking away the strands. “I’m sorry I went so far away.”  

You shudder, pursing your lips and looking away. You see to be shrugging your shoulders again. Cute. “It’s fine. Life gets in the way sometimes. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

The music doesn’t bother Leon anymore. He likes it, foot tapping with the beat, letting the soft tune wash over him. The silence is nice albeit heavy, he imagines there’s a barrage of questions on the tip of your tongue. A gentle giggle pulls his attention to you, “What?” 

“Nothing. Its just,” You shake your head, “I don’t know if I should be concerned or not over how little the gymnasium has changed since we went here.”  

“Oh,” His eyes sweep the entire place, amused at your remark. “You’re right. I don’t imagine they’ve been very enthusiastic about interior decoration .”  

“They really have not,” You marvel. You seem to get lost in your thoughts, pulling your back straighter. “You think they changed the bleachers outside in the field?”  

Leon locks eyes with you, unrelenting stare as he grapples with the meaning behind your words. He spent a lot of time with you on them; shyly running to you after practice, talking with you there for hours, glancing at you cheering him on during games, the summer day you two had spent there laughing and kissing before Leon had scratched the two of yours initial on its surface, sweetly outlining it with a heart. It’s not cheesy sweetheart if you’re blushing into my neck this hard.  

Leon quirks his eyebrow, matching your smile. “Let’s find out.”  

The night is cool with clear skies and a soft breeze blowing through. Leon feels ridiculous, not in the stupid sense but in the makes-him-feel-young sense. Your hand is wrapped in his instinctively, your soft palm resting against his with a practiced ease as he tugs you along with him towards the football field. The music thrums away into the background until there’s only the sound of your shared footsteps and your soft laughs echoing in the air. He can’t help but glance at you time and again, marvelling at the soft wrinkles dusting the corner of your eyes.  

He doesn’t like it when he has to let your hand go, standing between the stands as the two of you  unspokenly begin the search for the same heart shaped mark left years ago in the dim light. 

“So uh,” You say standing a little above from him in the bleachers, attention focused on the seats as you try to sound casual, “Did you come alone?”  

“Yeah,” He’s quick to reply. “My pet goldfish gets really motion sick on planes.” He pretends to search for a while. “You?”  

You hum in reply. “I don’t think ex-husbands are too big on attending their ex-wife’s high-school reunion.”  

Leon turns towards you to see you staring at him already, fiddling with your ring-less finger. “Dead?” 

“Divorced.” 

“When?” 

“Few years ago.”  

“Why?” 

“He got his secretary pregnant.”  

Leon blinks, scoffing and surprised at the spark of anger that ignites in him. “What an absolute piece of shit.”  

You laugh. “Yeah.”  

The two of you go back to searching, a lightness on your shoulders now. He relaxes too, the stiffness disappearing from his back. “I thought a lot about you. Thought you’d have your white picket fence house by now. It’s...why I never reached out to you.”  

You bite your lip, smiling at the memory. “It’s okay Leon, really. The white picket fence seems like a lifetime ago now. Seems a bit silly honestly.”  

“It’s not what you want?”  

“I don’t know. A lot’s changed since we last spoke. I’ve learnt it’s better to let things happen as they are.”  

“Not taking chances anymore?”  

You look up at him, a sweet smile as you share a knowing look. “No, I’m taking them as they present themselves.”  

Leon’s stomach does that flipping motion again, sweat collecting on the back of his neck. He mentally notes to buy Hunnigan the snack she likes so much too. They resume their search, beckoning the other to their spot as they find something funny or worthy to see. It’s fun, his worries melting away as he laughs away the night with you. But that heart is nowhere to be found, tired of squinting.  

“Ugh, this low lighting isn’t really helping,” You sigh, trailing back to where he’s stood.  

“Maybe some extra help then.” He pats the front of his jacket, digging into his inner pocket and then brandishing out his flip phone nonchalantly. You stare at it for a second, watch him as he flips it open and then burst into laughter.  

“What?” He asks in disbelief, watching you wheeze with amusement. 

“Wow,” You manage to choke out, “Well no wonder its so hard to reach you. Does your phone even have an email app?”  

“It works fine for me,” He grumbles, hoping you can’t see how scarlet he is under the night sky.  

“No, no,” You grin at him, pinching his cheeks. “It’s cute.”  

Leon almost jumps at your fingers connecting with his cheek, inadvertently leaning into your touch. You still, realisation hitting you of what you’re doing. But you don’t stop. Your fingers splay out, hesitantly cupping the side of his face. Leon watches you carefully, trying his best to control his breathing. You shudder as the bottom of your hand grazes against his stubble, thumb slowly caressing against his skin. Leon shuts his eyes under your soft touch, a sigh leaving his lips. 

He holds your wrist, keeping your hand against his cheek, bringing you close to him by your waist. His eyes don’t stray from yours, keeping you in place. Your eyes glaze over, a sheen in them as they collect water.  

“Hi.” You whisper.  

“Hey, sweetheart.” He whispers back. 

“You look old,” You laugh, the sound mixing with a sob. 

“So do you.” He hums back, fondly brushing your hair back from your face.  

You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in. “Where were you? I waited for you for so long.”  

He pulls back to see you properly, tilting  your face up by a hand under your chin. He leans in, lips brushing over yours. You push yourself up on your toes, lips connecting with his. You feel so impossibly warm against him, lips slotting against his seamlessly. He breathes you in, tastes you deeply, gripping you against his body like he never plans on letting you go. You gasp against his lips as he steals your breath and noises.  

He pulls away just an inch, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, not daring to loosen his hold on you. “Not going anywhere now, sweetheart.” 

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for S behind the cut; "from Andromeda to your eye". tw: internalized dehumanization; dehumanizing it/its pronouns. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

It wants to be saved, like it thinks it’s something worth that. It wants to be–it wants–it wants Superboy’s arms around it and Superboy’s lies in its ears and to never, ever have to go back to the Agenda, even though it knows there’s no way it’s really escaped the Agenda. Not for good. Not for real. 

The Agenda made it, and it isn’t something anyone would actually save. No one’s ever saved anything the Agenda made. 

It knows Superboy tried to, though.

But it still never should’ve come here. Never should’ve done this. Never should’ve come to Superboy like–like it really thought–like it really thinks– 

“C’mon, just–come with me, okay?” Superboy says, his voice all tight and twisted up.  It–understands that. Understands that Superboy needs to take it somewhere else. Somewhere with fewer staff around, where it can be secured until either Cadmus decides what to do with it or the Agenda comes and gets it. 

“I’m sorry,” it chokes again. The first thing it ever said was a lie to the security at the door; the first thing it ever really said was an apology to someone it never should’ve gone to. 

That apology’s still the only thing it’s ever really said. 

“It’s–fine,” Superboy says, his voice stiff. “I get it. It’s fine. Just–c’mon.” 

It nods, weak and useless, and Superboy stands up and pulls it up with him, and it tries to stop crying, and he wipes the tears off its face with the heel of his glove and it just cries harder, because why would he even bother to do that, why would he even care to, that’s–that’s– 

He should’ve thrown it out. Should’ve attacked it. Should–should just– 

He’ll lock it up. He’ll take it to a holding cell and lock it up and–and he won’t leave it there for good, it knows, not if . . . not if he can help it, anyway, but . . . 

But maybe he won’t be able to help it. 

It cries some more, and Superboy wipes the tears away from the underneath of its eyes with his thumbs. No one’s ever done that before. It’s never cried before either, but–still. No one’s ever touched its face or hugged it or lied to it over things no one else would ever even care to. 

No one’s ever done a lot of things, because the clone’s only existed for a few days, but those are things it wouldn’t have thought anyone ever would. 

“What do you want me to call you?” Superboy asks as he cups its face with one hand and its shoulder with the other. It sniffles, messy and ugly, and scrubs its own glove across its eyes. Of course he asked that, it thinks. Of course he asked that like that, it thinks. Not what’s your project designation? or what’s your name?; just what do you want?

Of course he asked like that. 

“‘Babe’,” it says, because that’s not what he calls Wonder Girl, and it’s much, much better than the idea of ever hearing its subject number in his voice. 

“Movin’ kinda fast there, babe,” Superboy replies with a crooked little grin, and it almost cries again. It thinks he’s–teasing it, maybe. Making a joke. Because he thinks it’s the kind of thing that could actually laugh or find something funny or . . . 

“Sorry,” it says, scrubbing uselessly at its face. “Sorry, just–not my subject number. Not–not that. Please.” 

“Hey, far be it from me to turn down a pretty girl asking me to call her ‘babe’, you’re not walkin’ that one back on me,” Superboy mock-scoffs, flashing it a wider grin and–and– 

And Superboy sees a girl when he looks at it. He sees a girl, and a “her”, and . . . and something to comfort. Someone to . . . 

He sees a person, when he looks at it. 

It–it knew he would. It knew that. 

But he does. 

She buries her face in her hands and starts bawling, and Superboy just wraps her up in his arms again like he’s not bothered by that at all and grips her tight, making rough little hushing sounds–or maybe rough little soothing sounds–against her hair. 

She still doesn’t know how to stop crying. 

The Agenda never thought she would, so why would they have taught her how to stop?

[summermoa-ns]

.・。.・゜✭・Smart Mouth・✫・゜・。.

NSFW (18+ ONLY) MDNI

academic rival!taehyun x fem!reader

content warnings: drinking, drunk sex, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty girl, baby), small mentions of smoking/weed, slightly condescending Taehyun, fucking until ur dumb lol, if i missed anything else pls lmk!!

author's note: i've been on-and-off working on this fic until i started hating it! just needed to get it out of my system so i can finally work on other stuff! also i didn't really edit this, so sorry for any typos or grammar errors

song inspos: You Lose! By Magdelena Bay; Cologne by beabadooobee

“Hey… Y/n? Maybe you should slow down a little bit?” Yeonjun furrows his brows in concern as he watches you down your third shot in the last 10 minutes. 

Yeonjun’s worries fall on deaf ears as you suck the lime between your teeth. You just need something to fog your mind, to haze the racing thoughts and anger that swarms inside you. Something to distract you from the shitty day you just had. The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to heed Yeonjun’s advice, but you’re not at this party to be smart and logical like you usually are. You are at this party to make bad decisions: to make up for the time you wasted chasing after something, and having it ripped away from you anyway. 

Usually, you’re not at these types of parties. Usually, you spend your free time in front of a laptop, coding for your lab. Or maybe burning your retinas as you stare holes through research journals, looking for articles to cite. Maybe even clocking in overtime hours, proctoring experiments that you were begged to cover last minute.  Day in and day out, you give everything to your lab, and yet they decide to go with him? After doing everything the PhD students and postdocs ask of you– for three fucking years– they give the head coordinator position to him? And now here you are fucking thinking about your lab even though the whole point of being at this dumb party is to not think about it and-

Yeonjun’s soju bottle hitting the table snaps you back into reality. 

After his swig, he waves a hand in front of your face, “Aye, you still here?” Yeonjun’s fingers blur and distort as they move in front of you. The blasting music and sounds of people socializing blend into a slurry. Shit, those shots are finally hitting.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the words fumbling over themselves as they exit your mouth. You rub the palm of your hand into your forehead, turning to look as Beomgyu greets someone at the front door. 

Your stomach drops when you see who comes through the door. Everything seems to slow down and unravel as the tall figure entering the house does some stupid dude-bro handshake with Beomgyu. His chocolate brown hair, his lean figure, his twinkly eyes: you could recognize him from miles away. The heat rising in you is sobering; it blisters in your lungs as you stare at him from across the house. The last 24 hours come crashing down on your shoulders again.

Yeonjun looks over to what has captured your attention and his eyes widen. “Ah fuck!” 

“Jun,” you slowly turn towards your fox-eyed dumbass of a friend, “I thought you said you double-checked with Gyu to make sure he wasn’t coming tonight.”

“I did, Y/n! I swear on my life!”

“Then why are we staring at the Kang Taehyun in your living room?”

Yeonjun runs his hand through his hair, huffing out his answer, “I don’t know! Maybe he changed his mind?”

You look over at Taehyun’s direction again, and your eyes meet. Your heartbeat quickens. His eyes squint, not hiding how he has spotted you. Fuck. You don’t even have time to process and suddenly Taehyun is standing across the kitchen island from you and Yeonjun. 

He leans forward and whispers to you, “Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here~” 

It’s amazing how you could see straight after how hard you rolled your eyes at him. The chocolate-haired boy chuckles in response. Taehyun greets Yeonjun who makes it brief. He may be a little dense, but even Yeonjun knows not to get too chummy with the bastard you were talking shit about all evening. 

“I was just about to leave, actually!” You begin getting up when a firm pair of hands push your shoulders back into the stool.

You turn in shock and see Beomgyu pouting at you, “Y/n~ you never hang out with us anymore. Can you just stay a little longer?” He whines, but you hear a hint of mischief in his voice. 

You try to protest, but before you can utter a sound Beomgyu interrupts, “Plus, you still owe me from that time you promised to treat me out on my birthday… and NEVER did…”

Fuck. You totally forgot about that. You look at Beomgyu and he gives you the biggest, pleading puppy-dog eyes. An irritated sigh escapes your teeth. “Fine.”

Taehyun is already opening the soju bottle with ease. He smiles as he pours a shot for himself, “Uh oh, Beomgyu! You made the pretty girl mad!”

God, he pisses you off. 

Taehyun, the golden boy: good merits with all his peers and professors, at the top of everything he does. When you both joined your psychology lab, it honestly was nice at first. You grew pretty close being in the same cohort. You both seemed driven and, as first-years, shared a lot of interests and hobbies. The only difference between you being Taehyun’s natural ability to succeed. In the beginning, you didn’t notice. Every class, every test, every paper: Taehyun aced with flying colors, while you chased after him, just out of his reach. But it was fine because you were friends. Taehyun would smile, ruffle your hair, and say “maybe next time”. 

But there was never a next time. Even in the middle of your final year at uni, Taehyun has topped you every single time. Though the rest of the department sees your rivalry as light-hearted and playful, a darkness grew underneath it all. Frustration. Anxiety. Jealousy. As the gap between your abilities became more and more apparent,  his “kind” remarks began to sting more and more. The more he teased you, the more tired you became of his patronizing nature. Eventually, you pushed him away.  

No longer stuck in your ruminations, you catch yourself staring as Taehyun pours a giddy Yeonjun and Beomgyu a shot. He tilts the bottle towards you, “Do you want one?”

Yeonjun starts talking before you say anything, “I think it’s better if she sits this one ou-”. You place your shot glass in front of Taehyun before Yeonjun can finish.

“I can handle myself.”

Beomgyu giggles, wrapping an arm around you, “See, I missed you!! Still as bitchy and smart-mouthed as ever!”

Taehyun cocks his eyebrow at you, “I missed that too.” He pours the shot to the brim.

—

Due to spite, you feel extra pissy today. Or maybe it’s because Taehyun has made it a point to hover wherever you are in this damn house. You want to watch the beer pong tournament happening in the backyard? There’s Taehyun wanting to join suddenly. You want to take some mirror selfies with Sakura in the hallway mirror? Taehyun is posing in the background of some of your pics! You want to pass a joint with Heesung and chill on the upstairs balcony? Taehyun just decides he wants a couple of hits too! 

You finally get some peace and quiet by wandering to one of the empty rooms on the second floor. You sit down by the foot of the bed.

You feel defeated, for some odd reason. The whole goal of tonight was to get Taehyun off your mind, and yet he’s creeped into every crevice in your brain, invading every thought. How he downs shots exposes his pretty neck, how his eyes brighten when he smiles for pictures, how soft and big his hands are when you hand him a joint… Ugh. You mentally smack those images out of your head.

There’s a little secret you would take to your grave: the main thing that pisses you off about Taehyun is that he is drop dead gorgeous. It’s just all too unfair. A person can’t be insanely smart and look like an S-tier model. There really should be rules about that. But it’s evident God has favorites, and Taehyun is one of them. Being cross-faded also hasn’t helped with these thoughts. You feel floaty and a bit too…vulnerable. Like everything is threatening to burst from your chest.

The light from the hallway lights up the room for a second as the door opens. It’s the last person you want to see. 

“Taehyun, please. Just leave me alone,” you sigh, not bothering to hide your irritation.

He scoffs, “Happy to see you too,” He closes the door behind him and leans against it.

As you both soak in the silence you can’t help but grow confused by his persistence. How does he just keep popping up everywhere?

“Is there a reason you’ve been following me tonight?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking abou-“ You stand up and get in his face before Taehyun can finish his sentence: just close enough to smell the alcohol on his lips. 

“I’m not stupid, Tae. So please, just tell me what you want.”

He raises his arms up, “Okay, okay. You got me. I’ve just been trying to find a moment to talk: in private.” 

He takes a deep breath. He leans into the door harder, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Why are you acting like this?”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “Huh?”

“Y/n, you never come to these types of things. I’ve invited you to them plenty of times,” he continues, “then out of the blue, you come with Jun of all people.”

“I know I’m a shut-in, but I’m allowed to have fun every once in a while.” God, how many times is he going to make you roll your eyes tonight?

His face grimaces with an emotion you’re not familiar with, “I’m not saying that. You just never want to…”

You impatiently cut off his sentence, getting closer to him by the doorway. “Want to what?!” 

“You never want to go out with me. You never want to hang out with me. You basically avoid me all the fucking time.”

Taehyun’s arms fall loosely to his sides, “I just don’t get why you hate me so much.” You look up at his face and are hit with a pang of guilt. Is he… actually sad right now?

“I never said I hated you.”

“I can’t help but feel that way. You never talk to me anymore.” 

In the quiet you realize how little space there is between you two. The atmosphere feels dangerous, heavy, and hot. You catch Taehyun sneaking a glance at your lips. You’re scared to see where this goes, scared of breaking the tension.

You bite down, wanting to flee from the guilt and shame bubbling in your stomach. You take Taehyun’s hand and try to pull him off the door to make your escape, but he flips you both. Now you’re pinned in between the door and Taehyun.

“Stop running from me, please.” 

His voice is warm and dark and weak like a dying bonfire. Your body shudders in response. His arm is slammed next to you, propping his body up so he can lean over you. “I’m so tired of chasing after you.” 

He says it so quietly into your ear, you almost convince yourself that you must have misheard him. The only thing that grounds your conviction that you heard correctly is how Taehyun’s free hand softly grips the hair on the back of your head, how his face finds solace in the crook of your neck, how gently his breath grazes that sensitive part of your skin. Suddenly your body feels like it’s on fire, and you’re not sure if you can handle it.

“Tae,” you breathe out softly. “Wait…,” but your objection is only met with the alcoholic heat of Taehyun’s lips. He tastes like the bitter aftertaste of lychee soju and mint chapstick and it knocks the air out of you. You buckle under his weight, instinctively gripping at his shirt for support. He is needy and gasping and crumbling in your hands: a complete 180 from the Taehyun you’re used to.

You manage to separate yourselves, both of your lips bruised and wet. “Tae, wait please!” To your surprise, he listens, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying hard to restrain himself. 

“You’re drunk!” You push against him, trying to make more space between you two, but to no avail. “Y-you’re really fucking drunk, and not thinking straight. Let’s not do anything we’ll…” You swallow as you catch a glimpse of Taehyun’s lips, “... regret.”

Taehyun cups your face in his hands and looks at you with so much clarity despite all of the alcohol in his veins. The abrupt roughness of the earlier kiss is contrasted by how gently he holds you. The gravity of his stare lingers in the air for a second until he finally answers.

“I’ll only regret it if you end up regretting it. So tell me clearly that you want me to stop.”

“Wha–?”

“I want you to say it. As clear as day. I’ll give you until the count of three: just tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop. Otherwise,” he puts his forehead against yours, “I’ll keep doing what I want.”

He starts. “One…”

The room is still and quiet except for your heart knocking against the door, drowning out the muffled music from outside. This should be easy, you think, you just need to tell Taehyun to stop. You say stop, Taehyun stops: simple, logical cause and effect. But despite those thoughts rolling into your brain, something primal in you holds your tongue. The way Taehyun’s woody cologne sticks to your clothes and the desperate way he’s panting after that first kiss makes you ache for more. The way his sculpted body feels under your palms and the way you can tell he’s undressing you with his eyes is all too intoxicating.

“... two…”

Your breathing is in sync with him. Taehyun is holding onto every little sound you make as he finds his way nuzzling back into your neck. He fully leans into you and you feel how hard he is. Your breath hitches and you feel him smile against your skin; his hot length twitches from inside his jeans. It excites you how he responds to your tiniest reactions. Curious to test the waters, you slightly grind against him which earns you a small, restrained groan from his lips. You want to hear him more, want to feel him more. It’s against your better judgment…. 

But remember? You’re not here to be smart: you’re here to make bad decisions.

Taehyun doesn’t even get to three before you crash your lips into his. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the opportunity to feel you up as you both blindly stumble to the edge of the bed, not daring to break the kiss as you straddle him. You feel Taehyun impatiently pull at the bottom of your blouse, you smile and untangle yourself from him in response, letting him take off your top. He also takes this time to rip his shirt off of him, and damn: built like a damn Greek statue, carved and polished to perfection. You could have stared at him all night if he didn’t flip you underneath him.

Hovering over you, Taehyun takes a moment to take in the view. His hand traces over the edge of your lace panties. “Wow, did you wear these just for me?” 

You prop yourself up to kiss Taehyun’s cheek. “No,” you playfully pout at him, “but I’m letting you take them off of me. So be thankful.”

He chuckles at your snide comment, “God, I love it when you talk like that.”

Taehyun starts leaving a blazing trail of kisses, saliva, and bites down your neck, taking some time to leave some blooming hickeys around your collarbone. He gets to your chest and while he marks his territory, he reaches underneath you and unclasps your bra. You have no time to marvel at his mastery when you gasp at his tongue swirling around your nipple. His hand makes quick work of your body, gripping and massaging your other breast, lightly pinching your other bud in between his index and thumb. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy, softly sighing. Taehyun takes his time; his mouth switching between your breasts indiscriminately and occasionally taking a break to kiss the valley in between them. While you squirm under his touch, you feel your wet core ache for more. 

“Taehyun…” you whine.

He looks up at you while swirling his tongue around one of your buds. He hums in a questioning tone, refusing to let his mouth leave your body. 

“Taehyun please…need more of you…”

He finally pauses and his smile wickedly spreads across his face, “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Mouth… please. Can I have your mouth please?”

You feel the heat of Taehyun leave your chest as he gets up to quickly strip your panties off of you. You hold your breath when you feel the chill of the room hit you; everything, everywhere is aching. You just want him to touch you, to taste you. It isn’t until you feel the grip of Taehyun’s strong hands around your thighs and the plump soreness of his lips on your hot core that your breath hitches. 

You grip Taehyun's hair while he pulls you full force to his face. How his tongue laps into you, how he switches to intensely sucking on your clit, how he pants as he places the wettest kisses against your inner thighs. The rhythm of his tongue puts you in a trance as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Taehyun absolutely loves giving head. He has had his fair share of partners, so his palette is pretty… experienced. But something about you was so addicting. He thought you tasted like heaven; a flavor so delicious, he could imagine savoring it every night and morning. He could keep your thighs clamped around his face all night if you would let him. 

This entire time Taehyun has been pushing you further and further to your bliss. Your body threatens to unravel with every swirl from Taehyun’s tongue, but never quite reaching the tip. However, it all comes crashing down and the coil in your stomach finally snaps the minute he pushes two fingers deep in you. The sounds that escape you are unholy and all you see is white as Taehyun brings you past your orgasm, overstimulating you.

“God, baby, you’re so wet for me already. I was able to fit my fingers in so easily,” he smiles triumphantly at his soaked hand, “Where’s that smart mouth from earlier, huh?”

You whine, riding your drunken high as you grind on his hand. Your walls pulse around him as he thrusts his fingers rhythmically. Happily smiling to himself, he returns his lips to their rightful home: in between your legs, lightly lapping at your clit. Taehyun is having way too much fun now. Your reactions? Your sounds? Your body? Complete, utter perfection. It’s taking every bit of his self-control to not whip out his dick and slam it into your dripping cunt. Every whimper and moan that comes from you makes his cock throb like crazy. 

It’s certain everyone in the hallway knows the room is currently “occupied” even over the blaring music. You’re too lost in all the sensations running through your system to care about your volume. Then, you feel Taehyun’s fingers curl into that magic spot: the spot you can never quite reach by yourself. The spot that usually needs the help of toys and vibes. Still coming down from the crash of your previous orgasm, you instinctively push away from Taehyun’s hand, almost scared of feeling any more pleasure. But this reaction doesn’t escape the devious eyes of the boy in between your legs. 

Taehyun pauses his movements and asks from below, “Can’t take anymore, baby?” His stare softens a bit as he kisses around your thighs.

You’re conflicted; you don’t want this moment to stop, but feel like you might melt into the sheets if you continue. A small whisper leaves your lips, “I-I think I can, it’s… it’s just a lot all at once.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, “but you can take it for me, right?” Before you can answer, his fingers curl up and hit the spot once more. Again, you feel the heat in your lower stomach release and those aching waves envelope your body, even more powerful than last time. You blink away tears from your eyes, digging your nails into Taehyun’s shoulders as you scream out his name. 

Taehyun continues cleaning the honey dripping out of you with his tongue, his cock twitching every time you whimper out a plea for him to fuck you already. Now that you’re ready for him, Taehyun doesn't have to hold back anymore. He tries to hide how eagerly he is stripping off his pants, but you can still tell in your tipsy haze that he is brimming with enthusiasm. However, Taehyun stops as he hovers over you.

“Last chance to back out now, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, “You’re not fucking going anywhere.”

He rubs the tip of his cock along your entrance. He wets his lips, amused by your answer, “Fair enough.”

Even with proper preparation, the stretch is enough to make you arch your back. Taehyun grips the sheets– his knuckles turning white– until he bottoms out inside you. You grip into his back, pulling him flush against you. His brows are furrowed in complete concentration as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You both stay there for a second, steadying your breaths.

After what feels like an eternity, you adjust to Taehyun’s length and feel ready. However, Taehyun stays still, unmoving.

“Tae… you can move now,” You say, pushing your hips against to demonstrate your willingness.

Taehyun groans, “I know, baby… you just–,” he nearly whimpers, “you just feel really good. Give me a sec…”

A sense of pride swells in your chest. The usually measured, deliberate Kang Taehyun has become a mess just from slipping it in. A coy smile spreads across your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer.

“Aww, is someone struggling right now? Did I make you feel too good?”

Silence. You feel a slight shift in the air that makes you shiver. Silence. Until Taehyun lifts his chest off of you– pulling back his hips– and looks down at you. His stare makes your blood run cold. One of his hands grips onto the headboard, making him hover you. Taehyun snaps a hard thrust back into you, making you moan in surprise.

“I see that smart mouth I love so much is back,” he icily smiles down, “and I’m going to fuck it out of you.”

There’s no warning, no precaution, as Taehyun brutally begins fucking you into the mattress. He grips the headboard, causing it to knock against the wall in a frantic rhythm. Taehyun’s hips piston into you as you claw into the pillow you lay your head on. With every thrust, you feel yourself clamp around Taehyun’s cock, your mouth agape from the sheer pleasure coursing through you. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take all of me,” Taehyun breathes into your neck before taking a long lick along your throat. “How does it feel? Feels good?”

You can’t even form words, you feel like a mindless doll as you frantically nod at Taehyun’s question. You feel him pulse inside you as he flashes you a cocky smile. His hand leaves the headboard, moving so both hands grip into your hips, allowing for more leverage. 

“Bet it fucking does. Fucking you so dumb, you can’t even talk,” He punctuates each word by slamming his full length into you, making you see stars.

With Taehyun’s constant teasing and unruly speed, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your next orgasm peeking from behind the horizon. Your hands reach down, cupping over Taehyun’s on your hips.

You don’t even have to say anything, you look into Taehyun’s eyes and he just knows. Taehyun grabs your knees and pushes them down towards your chest, leaning into you for a searing kiss; it’s filthy and lustful and pushes you right over the edge towards your release. You let out a low moan into Taehyun’s mouth, your walls fluttering around his dick. With that, Taehyun’s force becomes more erratic as he chases his own high. He pulls away from your kiss and starts nipping at your ear. His breathing becomes more shallow and quick each time your hips meet, little sounds escaping his plump lips.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum in this pretty pussy,” he growls.

A final push and Taehyun stills inside you, releasing a few hot pumps, until he begins to soften. When he pulls out, you can feel the mixture of your arousals spill out of your fucked-out pussy. Taehyun plops down next to you, both of you still coming down from your respective highs. The silence is broken by Taehyun chuckling, pulling you into his arms.

“Yeonjun is going to be so fucking pissed at me,” he laughed. 

You looked up at him in confusion, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Because this is definitely his room.”

Your eyes dart around the room: signed concert posters of bands you recognized on the wall, a closet full of stylish clothes, the bluetooth speaker he always brought to dance practice. Fuck. This was totally Yeonjun’s room.

Your hands shoot up to cover your face, groaning, thinking about how Yeonjun would scold you for getting his bed “dirty”. But your panic subsides as Taehyun presses his lips into your check, giving you a quick peck.

“Ehh, I’m sure it’ll be fine…,” Taehyun hums, flashing you that same cocky smile, “we can talk our way out of it.”

You snuggle into his chest, Taehyun’s smile no longer causing bitterness and resentment to flood your thoughts, but something much warmer… 

“...This is what he gets for not warning me about you coming to the party.”

“Okay… maybe don’t start running that smart mouth next time we see him. I’ll do all the talking, alright?”

[th3-steambird]

Hiiii:) could I please request some Scaramouche/Wanderer fluff?🩷

OFC 💙💙💙✨✨✨✨

~Without your hat, my dearest hat guy.~

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff, Gn!reader x Wanderer (No pronouns and bodily descriptions but written with Fem!reader in mind 😅), 

An: Ofc I can 💙 I hope your not disappointed 😭😭 Ily your works and I hope you like this one 🫣 If its bad you can tell me 💙

Summary: Your boyfriend always has a (annoyingly big) hat which serves him no purpose aside from aesthetic and to hide his cute blushing face! So when you see a group of birds, a mother protecting her eggs from a ruined nest, you finally get an idea on how to use his hat 😏

“Without your hat, my dearest hat guy”

“You’re just, my dearest guy right? Isn’t that nice?” You insist, your pouting face already starting to quell your boyfriend’s annoyance. “Tsk. First, I should be your only ‘guy’. Second, that does not excuse you taking my hat while I was asleep. Can I not have a night when you don’t try something?” He scoffed, huffing in already waning irritation. His sharp gaze met your huffy one as you continued to stare at him with a look akin to a puppy. Thats hardly fair, in all honesty, who allowed such a cute human to exist? He thought as his expression softened. “Argh, argh fine, how long do you think those birds are going to use my hat as a nest?” He demanded sharply, yet with no bite. The wanderer  decided also to deny the way his chest seemed to leap when your expression brightened into a smile.

“…Hmm…maybbbee a month or two?-”

“You’re explaining to Nahida, not me.” He shot back, rubbing his forehead while sighing, his mind already on the many questions he will receive both from The Dendro archon and his peers in the Akademiya. How troublesome. As if that torture method in the name of homework wasn’t enough. “You owe me  days of kisses and a month of cuddles for this.” He huffed, turning to meet your eyes again, trying to keep his usual stern demeanor that always seemed to disappear with you. Damn you and your pretty face.  

His words, though, brought out a cheeky smile from you as you spread your arms cheerily, “Oh, I’m rich in those. I think I’m paying extra.” You declared as he sighed, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead gently, making his whole body feel weird and warm. He gently nuzzled your chest with his head affectionately, reminding you of a cat. Fiercely affectionate but in denial of so. ‘Scarameow…’ you thought to yourself, causing you to giggle lightly. The wanderer bumped your chest, already knowing you well enough to think you were making fun of him for the nth time.

“…What?” Nahida gave you two a confused smile, seemingly still trying to absorb the situation. How ironic, the goddess of knowledge herself struggling to comprehend the wanderer let someone (who survived) take his hat and use it for a bird nest of all things! Wow…was he…growing? Perhaps she was tearing up like a proud mother, so happy the wanderer seemed to have finally let someone close to his heart again. “Sooo…Yesss…would you mind explaining to all our dear guy’s classmates, oh greatest dendro archon?” You asked weakly, quite embarrassed. You could also immediately tell that the ‘guy’ in question was holding back a laugh and probably a couple of teasing words that might get him in trouble with Nahida.  “I…see. Well, birds usually will live in a nest for maybe a month or two? So hat guy…sure…I can explain to your classmates in the meantime.” Nahida offered, outstretching her hand with a pleasant smile. Wanderer seemed to relax at that, his shoulders slightly less tense- as tense it could get, anyway. “…Alright-“ You nudged him on the shoulder, giving him a sharp glance, “I mean, -Thank-you“ he managed, the words obviously not often leaving his lips. 

“Awww…they hatched!!!” You gushed, gasping excitedly, tugging his arm as if he didn’t have eyes too. He sighed, turning to look at the nest of birds, a mother and her newly hatched chicks, with a appalling gaze. This nest, by the way, was still inside his hat. How irritating it was. To be fired by questions every day about where his hat went, and how someone actually convinced him to lend it. Usually he didn’t even allow anyone to touch his hat, much less borrow it for a good time. 

“Yay. Do you think I’m getting that back any time soon?” He sighed in an exasperated tone, glancing at the birds nested in his property. They looked very comfortable. Maybe he wouldn’t mind them staying there a few more months.

“Nope. Sooo…I guess I still owe you more cuddles and kisses?” You giggled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Of course you do. And there is interest.”

“I’d be happy to pay~”

THANK YOU SM FOR FIRST REQUEST 💙💙💙💙💙 

[neverenoughmarauders]

Hi! what are your thoughts on the ever present fanon idea that James repeatedly asks Lily to date him before she finally concedes (he pesters her tbh)?

I feel like this throws a lot of people off of Jily as it just adds a bit of creepiness to the ship and makes it weirder for Lily to get with James considering this behaviour, after what must’ve been a fair amount of reckoning since he tormented her childhood best friend for years. Like even if Lily hated Snape at this point I don’t think she’d forget how James treated him easily and let James off the hook without a proper reckoning so adding pestering behaviour to that dynamic just makes their relationship more unlikely ya know. Honestly just tryna find reasons why fandom in general dislike Jily more than jegulus atp.

Hi anon

This idea that James repeatedly asked Lily out I think far precedes Jegulus. In my youth, the few fics I engaged with (often because my best friend kindly helped translate them) seemed to position it as a very cute thing - although it always annoyed me even then, because it has no basis in canon. The day and age where James persistently asking Lily out was seen as cute are over, and now this fanon idea is presented in favour of Jegulus or Snily.

Actually, as an aside, in general the marauders' story is one that has aged poorly... You can't really view the marauders without the lens of it being the 70s and during a wizarding world war - but people do and it completely changes everything.

How do I feel about it?

I feel the same way about this as I do with all fanon ideas that get presented as evidence. It drives me up the wall no end. We all get carried away with our own interpretations and that's fine, but if people cannot separate canon from interpretation of canon /headcanon from fanon, how can we have an informed debate?

Canon:

"Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” ... “I didn’t mean — I just don’t want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not ... everyone thinks ... big Quidditch hero — ” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

My interpretation of canon:

The conversation between Snape and Lily to me indicates that it is a relatively new development (which means sometimes not long before/after the whomping willow incident). At this point I think it's hard to argue that James has asked Lily out - why on earth would Snape feel the need to point out that James fancies her if this be the case.

Canon:

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on ... Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.” ... “I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. “Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. ... “There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus — ” “I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” Lily blinked. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.” ... “What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. “Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius. “Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right"

Also canon: Lily found James attractive at this point, despite not liking him very much. It was confirmed in an interview, in response to whether or not Lily hated James, but as we know even from the source text:

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.

My interpretation of canon:

James is being an immature d***. That aside, nothing about this dialogue suggests to me that James has ever asked Lily out before. Why? James looks FURIOUS at the rejection, he does not give off the vibes of someone who has routinely been rejected by Lily.

There's also the small stuff which doesn't by itself mean anything but which adds up, such as Sirius' and Snape's reaction. Sirius doesn't come across as someone who has seen this a hundred times. He's obviously far less affected or surprised by the outcome, but that's not the same thing. Snape completely loses it with Lily - why? It's not the first time James and Sirius has bullied him, but if it's the first time Snape has listened to James ask her out - worse still, use him to ask her out, he might be furious. He told her so, didn't he? James Potter fancied her.

My headcanon:

We know Lily found James attractive, and that James is shocked to be rejected. We also know Snape is nervous that Lily might be falling for James: 'I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are' Why? Probably because by now Lily and James have flirted a little on and off. If Lily spoke the way she spoke to James by the lake - if James routinely asked Lily out - then the conversation between Severus and Lily makes no sense.

If people want to like Jegulus, they can. Personally, I think Jily holds everything I want from an "enemies" to lovers trope, and if I want another trope it's usually best friends to lovers, and I've got prongsfoot for that. Or if I am feeling like I want both, there's always Jilypad <3

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Am Forever Yours (part 2)

Day 5: Home

Summary: He thought her worthy enough.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1136

Warnings: nothin just fluff 🥹

A/n: i love love LOVEEEE this one its so soft 🥺

@lucienweekofficial

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Another jolt shook the carriage, and Y/n clenched her thighs to prevent herself from toppling straight into the prince’s lap.

It was becoming harder and harder to stay in her seat the longer they remained on the rocky road they traversed on the insistence of the prince. Apparently, it was the scenic route.

She was the only one in the carriage with him, their parents and other members of court travelling in different carriages as they made their way to the King’s palace that was sparsely used save for hosting royal weddings. Y/n had expected to go through the same route her parents were supposed to be using, but Lucien had insisted otherwise.

"Are you sure this is supposed to be the better route? I am quite concerned about my wellbeing when- and if- we finally arrive."

He laughed, carefree and open as if he was not the reason her bones were knocking together.

"Just a few more moments, and we’ll reach smooth ground again."

Y/n sighed and leaned back, her fingers clutching at the fine upholstered material of the seat she occupied, thinking of the best way to ask him why he thought this was a good idea without offending him.

"My lord, I do not wish to be disrespectful, but-"

"Oh cut the formalities, my lady. Ask what you wish to."

Y/n blinked, wondering if he even realised he didn’t listen to his own words. But she proceeded nonetheless. "Why are we taking this route? Surely you do not enjoy being thrown against the hard walls of this carriage?"

He offered her a slight smile, settling back as the jostling carriage slowed to a smooth race.

"Lady Oak, you must know, I like you quite a lot. And you, I hope, like me too. I thought that while we are getting married soon, I should trust you with parts of me no one has seen before."

Y/n swallowed, unable to move her gaze from his even as the intensity in his eyes seemed to conquer her soul.

"As I have previously mentioned, I do not live with my family at the palace. I tend to travel the kingdom, and when I do not have anything to do, I stay at my home away from everyone. You see, I rather like the quiet comfort of my humble home than the extravagance of the palace."

Y/n blinked at him, taken aback. "I did not know that, my lord."

He smiled. "And neither does anyone except my parents, siblings and the carriage driver. Though I prefer to ride my horses when travelling, for it is better for speed when alone."

He paused, heaving a sigh before he continued speaking as the carriage came to a stop. "I wanted to… show you my home. I know it might be nothing compared to the palace, but it’s something I cherish a lot."

Disgusting tears. Stop pricking my eyes.

Y/n scooted forward, hesitantly touching the back of his hand. "I’m honoured, my lord."

His smile was radiant as he turned his palm and grasped hers tightly, bringing it to his lips. "I am glad you feel that way. And it’s Lucien. Would you like to take a look inside?"

Y/n nodded silently, watching him as he hopped out of the carriage and turned to help her down. The chaperone that had accompanied Y/n and Lucien on the insistence of their parents did not turn to look at the two, his spine straight, and Y/n knew that Lucien had probably bribed him to ignore their little adventure.

The house was not small by any means, a large front porch and stables accompanying the large structure. It of course was a child’s toy compared to the king’s palace, but it probably would have been more that half the size of the estate Y/n grew up in.

Lucien led her inside without a word, and he remained silent for as long as the two were there. He kept looking at Y/n, as if unsure what she would think of it, worried she would hate it.

Y/n was quite baffled he would think she would dislike what he called home but she was much too engrossed in staring at all the little trinkets, the little souvenirs and carpets scattered across the space that told of a home well loved to reassure him.

It was only when the two hurried back to the carriage and began moving to the palace did Y/n look at Lucien. He was already staring at her, his eyes searching her face.

"I love your home, my lo- Lucien."

Instantly, his lips split into a grin. "Really?"

Y/n nodded with a shy smile. "It is beautiful. I’d rather live in a smaller home than the palace too. And that home, I… I can see myself turning old there."

He looked down at his lap, his ears turning a shade darker. "Thank you."

Y/n turned her gaze downward to watch her fingers fiddling with each other, thanking the mother for giving her such an adorable husband. He was not the pompous ass she had thought he’d be, given he was the youngest prince. He had unknowingly forced Y/n into softening the shell around her heart to let him in. She still remembered the way she had behaved with him when they first met, how she’d tried her best to be uninterested in him.

It hadn’t really worked, somehow backfiring. But she was glad it had.

"That house… it was my old caretaker’s house which she left for me after her passing. It means a lot to me. I used to come here to hide away from my father when he turned violent, and with time, I made it my everything. It’s the first place I felt like I actually belonged.  My family knows I have my own home, but no one has ever been here."

She blinked. "So I am the first one to ever… visit?"

Y/n lips ticked up, warmth spreading through her chest at knowing the fact that she was the first one to see the home he cherished so much.

I am not worthy.

"Lady Oak-"

"It’s Y/n."

He ducked his head in a nod, cheeks dimpling. "Y/n, we’ve still got an hour to pass. You should get some sleep."

She groaned. "As much as I am happy that you thought me worthy of revealing such an important aspect of your life, I must say that I do not wish to forgive you for the anguish you’ve caused my bones."

He laughed, loud and hearty. "Forgive me for my sins, wife."

It was Y/n’s turn to blush now.

He only smirked.

"Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[grinsgrimmy]

Hi! How are you? I’m new to your blog and I’m loving every second of it! You really captured the male mcs really well and I’m so happy to find you in the community!

I saw your request is open! May I ask if I can request a drabble?

Can you do a drabble of Carcel Escalante from The Broken Ring: This Marriage Will Fail Anyway? Wherein Reader has been shutting out Carcel from her room and it made him anxious, so he sneaks into her room and was surprised to see a portrait of him in a big canvas drawn by Reader? A surprise for his birthday supposedly?

You can decide how will you end it! Again, Thank you so much and have a wonderful time! <3

Ｓ Ｅ Ｃ Ｒ Ｅ Ｔ .

ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖢𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖤𝖫 𝖤𝖲𝖢𝖠𝖫𝖠𝖭𝖳𝖤 𝗑 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

THE BROKEN RING, THIS MARRIAGE WILL FAIL ANYWAY

๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 oneshot . (1348 words)

sum. you had been shutting yourself in a room, and it made carcel paranoid

note : thank you for the request and your sweet words, anonie! im doing fine, thanks for asking!! i try my best to make sure the canon characters i wrote are not out of character. however, im going to be honest, i have never read this manhwa before, but i was willing to pick it up for this request and oh my god i was not disappointed. other than that i went over the word limit AGAIN

request drabble have reopened !!

ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list

you had been acting odd lately. 

odd enough for it to worry carcel. 

it had been escalating to two days. Every chance he tried to find you when you were supposedly said to be 'busy', it was simply you locking yourself in a different room within the house.

when asked regarding what you were doing inside of said room, you only responded that it was not his business to know. as much as he wished to argue about it, he did not. 

but your husband, he deathly wished to know what it was. 

it did not help that carcel was an easily jealous— no, a paranoid person.

... but you could not be committing liaison within that room, no? 

of course not. you were never the type to do that anyway. 

it was just a thought. certainly.

then, were you sick and you did not wish to worry him?

this entire ordeal left him restless. 

when carcel dared to ask the servants of the house, they all simply went quiet and refused to answer. hell, even the butler remained quiet about it. 

it did not help that during the night, when you both were to end up sleeping together, you acted as if you had not just locked yourself in a room for the entire afternoon. 

he wished to respect you sincerely, but you were not exactly helping his paranoia either. none of the people in the house was going to ease his anxiety either, for god knows why. 

by the third day, his patience was wearing thin, and so was his beauty sleep. 

every time he closed his eyes, thoughts of what you could possibly be hiding gnawed at him, unraveling all sense of reason. 

the servants' silence only fanned the flames of his paranoia. 

as midnight drew closer and the house had fallen quiet, carcel made his decision. 

sneak into the room you had locked yourself into for three days. 

was it disrespectful of him? certainly, but it was definitely a lot more disrespectful that you never told anything nor said anything to your poor ol' worried and concerned husband that was sulking outside of the door every afternoon like a kicked puppy. 

carcel managed to slipped out of your shared bedroom and quietly headed through the halls of the house until he reached that room. 

he stared at the door for a few seconds, debating whether he should genuinely enter without your permission. it felt as if he was committing a crime. 

carcel's hand hovered over the handle. With a breath held in his chest, he slowly turned the knob of the door. The door easily gave way without resistance, making him debate whether to enter or not.

after a few seconds, he stepped inside. it was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon coming from the window without a curtain. 

carcel immediately noticed a large object near the window. he stepped closer, his eyes adjusting to the low light. 

and he saw it. 

he guessed it was a large canvas on an easel covered by a cloth to hide the painting underneath it. without thinking twice due to his sheer curiosity, he pulled the cloth away to reveal the painting behind it. 

it was unfinished, yet there was a line art that revealed—

his own face. 

captured in delicate yet stunning detail. 

carcel's heart stilled, his eyes glued to the rough sketch lines and the unfinished fine brush strokes of the paint. 

it was him. 

the sight took his breath away. 

from the calm expression to the unfinished paint, every brushstroke speaking of hours of careful observation from you.

carcel could see where you had tried to perfect every feature, wanting to commit every detail of him. a devotion he never realised you had for him. 

you had been painting a portrait of him? 

this entire time? 

that's. so. cute!! 

the realisation melted into a giddish glee within his heart, a blush crept to his cheeks immediately as he giggled to himself. 

his wife is so cute as always. 

while his giddish glee, he noticed a writing that he initially missed by the corner of the canvas. his eyes widened when he read it. 

'happy birthday'. 

just how oblivious could he be? his birthday was a week away, and this was his... gift. his birthday gift. 

damn it, you were too cute for him. 

carcel could feel his heart beating. he was completely flushed, laughing like a lovesick teenager to himself as he admired the artwork.

all the restless hours, the jealous little thoughts, thinking you were sick and all the paranoia— it seemed ridiculous to him now.

you were holed up in this room for days, creating something immaculately sincere and gentle. 

it definitely caught him off guard.

his wonderful, talented, genius of a wife.

he felt like a fool for forgetting that you picked up on painting a few months ago.

with one last lingering look at the painting, he left the room quietly. his heart felt lighter than it had felt in days. 

he managed to slip back into bed, and a gleeful smile spread across his face. he glanced at your sleeping form, blushing red.

placing a gentle kiss on your sleeping self's forehead, he tucked himself to bed, not without tucking you closely to his chest. 

the next morning, you managed to find out that carcel had entered the room. the cloth of the canvas you had once draped over it was on the floor. 

you deduced it was carcel. all of the servants knew that you were making a surprise gift. this had been meant as a surprise.

a heartfelt, intimate gift for his birthday. and now, thanks to his impatience (you did not know you locking yourself in the room was making him paranoid), the secret was spoiled.

frustrated and albeit disappointed, you tracked down carcel. you found him in his bedroom, having a briefing with the butler. “carcel escalante!” you yelled as you barged into his office. 

sensing your anger, which was uncharacteristic of you, carcel sat frozen on his seat— terrified to see why you were angry at him. meanwhile, the butler left the office due to your furious state. 

carcel gave a nervous smile. “what's wrong, dear?” he asked shakily with an unsure expression, sweating. it reminded you of a child that was caught rummaging in the cookie jar.

you placed your hands on your hips. “you went into my art room, didn't you?” narrowing your gaze, you frowned.

you could see the colour drained slightly from his face when his realisation dawned on him. 

oh, right. 

he forgot to drape the cloth over the painting. 

he spent begging on his knees for forgiveness, which you stubbornly did not appeal to.

carcel followed you around like a guilty shadow, imploring for you to show him mercy.

he tried to argue that it was due to you acting so strange, hence forcing him to investigate what happened, but you still refused to forgive him.

when you announced you would not give him the painting as a gift since he ruined the surprise. 

carcel felt his world shattered. he could feel himself wanting to burst into tears. he whined and sulked at your decision.

by the end of the day, he was practically at your feet, giving the best puppy eyes you had ever seen from him.

carcel begged and begged for you to finish the painting and give it to him by his birthday, despite it no longer being a surprise. 

carcel even teared up at the prospect of no longer receiving the very thing you put countless effort and devotion into.

though it was fun, on your end, to witness carcel murmuring every variation of apologies, you did relent and promise you would finish the painting and gift it to him.

that alone made him sprang up with joy again, kissing you all over with glee.

although, he could not promise he would not do it again due to his paranoia, he made sure to forgive you in a different way that night.

・❥・want a hc / oneshot? please consider commissioning in ko-fi !

[scrapingby]

Something about Rhun makes people just want to tell them things and it absolutely started in their childhood. All of their brothers used to go to them, if they needed someone that would just listen. Most of the time it was just being able to say something out loud, to not be alone with their thoughts. And with the experiments and the general pains of growing up that would happen a lot.

And that would be fine. Rhun has always been responsible, always worried about the beings close to them. But it wasn't fine, because for all that Rhun listened to every single complaint of their brothers, their brothers didn't listen to them. Not when they tried to tell them about how their day had been going (because no one wants to listen about what chores the nuns had Rhun do). Not even when they requested advice, because Rhun would take too long to answer. And especially not when Rhun tried to talk about their own feelings, their own worries.

Because for Rhun talking was hard. It's hard to always follow two group discussions at once: the one in the real world and the one in your head. It's humiliating to give an answer to a question that wasn't spoken or add something when the conversation has already moved onto something else.

It's also hard to talk while being so deeply aware of every tooth in your mouth brushing against the flesh of your cheeks and your tongue when you form words. And it's deeply uncomfortable to be told by your brothery that the over exaggerated way you move your face while talking looks ugly.

Sometimes Rhun stayed silent for so long that they feared they would forget how to speak (and that with their voice removed, their brothers would soon move on from them) so they forced themselves to not think, just press some words out. That's how they started to be what could be considered "snarky". Trying to keep on top of the conversation by thinking fast.

With the nuns, talking wasn't an option at all. And from all of the siblings I believe Rhun was the one deemed the most "well-behaved" or "responsible" so if the nuns needed an extra set of hands for something delicate or just someone to help with anything at all, they would take Rhun (I also feel like Rhun is someone that needs to do something all the time, because the alternative is being alone with their thoughts. So they were always grateful to get chores and even offered to do them for the brothers). And inevitably they would either start talking at Rhun (bc they wouldn't want a real answer from them anyways) or among each other and Rhun would just have to be there and listen. Often times it would be about personal problems of the nuns but mostly it was about the brothers. About the experiments and how good or how bad they performed. What punishments should be used for whom (for that one, they always wanted Rhun to answer) and shouldn't Rhun be grateful that they were being allowed so much freedom with how freaky they were?

So no. Talking isn't Rhuns strong suit. And they don't like thinking about how it makes them feel that everyone feels comfortable to dump their trauma on them but that no one, not even their brothers, bother to listen to their thoughts. So they work. And they try not to feel too bitter about always being used but never wanted. So yeah. They get snarky when people just start talking to them. They know how it will go. But they always, always listen. Because they know how it feels when no one listens to you.

----

Seriously, Klaus went out of this way to try to smooth things over with both words and actions with Zeke (DVD) and Fips (carrots). But with Rhun? All he did was say that what Rhun had been saying since forever was right and that they should have listened. My heart is breaking all over again.

Thanks at @jobroedchen-blog for your addition to last post. That's what kickstarted this train of thought that I had been trying to ignore until now

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Oooough so um. You know the "Eggman finds and raises tails instead of Sonic" AUs and how that usually fucks up the little guy in a special way? Haha so I had an idea like that but with Nine

(Bear with me this is like half the shit my brain came up with on a 30 min car ride there's already so much abt this in my head help)

So a scrawny kit without a Denizen number was detained in Dr.Babble's district due to repeated offenses of wandering off the path and also under the suspicion of stealing and repurposing council robot parts (all strictly prohibited)

After some back and forth and confirmation that he has no affiliation with the resistance, or even a family house to be sent back and locked up in, the Council concludes he could be useful to them. The little thing is smart, knows his way around machines (if the reports are to be belived), is quiet and no one would miss him if things went wrong. He was a freak snatched off the street anyway.

Of course, their first thought was to fully robotize him, and have him do some basic maintenance or reconnaissance alongside Rusty, one of their only actual still standing successful robotized projects, but Mr.Dr. objects, saying it would be a waste if they turned him into a mindless drone doing basic work. So they agree (to disagree) to give it some time and let them see what they're working with, it's not like the little guy is expected to be somewhere else.

After a few days of not-so-subtle emotional manipulation and observation of the fox at work, it's concluded (albeit very begrudgingly) that he has the skills and intellect to match and even surpass all five members of the council.

Of course, that's a threat and a very high liability if the the little freak gets any funny ideas, so the council actually has to play smart instead of brute force their way to subjugation like usual.

A deal is proposed.

If the little fox, now their ninth robotization project in wait, agrees to pledge his alliance directly under the thumb of the council and is fine with the loss and metallic replacement of just a few body parts and vital organs, in turn, he doesn't have to mingle with the measly and pathetic citizens bellow ever again, gains full reign over all of the resources available (with strings attached of course) to keep the five men at full power and finally destroy any resistance once and for all.

The kit, now marked 09 (or simply 9 for colloquial convenience) accepts the deal without much hesistation, the loss of his vital organs seemed to spook him the most, but it's not like he cares about anyone in the city, or vice versa. As far as he sees it, losing his biological arms and jaw is hardly a difficult deal for being sound and secure, fed and housed, protected from any and all elements, and left alone for most of his days. He now lives in the walls of the Tyrants' castle yes, but it's not like he has any reason to feel bad or like he betrayed anyone.

Not like he ever knew anything else but cold pavement and eye-blinding xenon in a city where you can only trust yourself. It's either dying under the suffocating regime or taking any chance given to swing above it. He just got lucky, and it was about damn time he did.

The resistance is nothing but a desperate cult of people deluding themselves with unreachable fantasies and sending their followers on suicide missions. The citizens nothing but ants there to keep the machine running and make all the infrastructure around them useful, and 09, finally, stood above both.