#I keep thinking about this song I connect to him and crying

[theswedishpajas]

Fun fact: Astarion is fucking TRAUMATIZED AS SHIT

[miss--serotonin]

I genuinely don’t think I can sing enough praises for this entire work.

Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours. 

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world. 

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway. 

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.” 

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal. 

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room. 

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…” 

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room. 

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there. 

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face. 

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?” 

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?” 

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest. 

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace. 

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought. 

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.” 

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly. 

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen. 

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you. 

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him. 

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.” 

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back. 

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken. 

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.” 

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom. 

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?” 

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.” 

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”  

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed. 

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat. 

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation. 

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went. 

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“ 

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you. 

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching. 

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail. 

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours. 

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.” 

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment. 

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.” 

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body. 

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin. 

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water. 

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs. 

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago. 

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely. 

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric. 

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.” 

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did. 

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound. 

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.” 

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin. 

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time. 

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore. 

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin. 

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.” 

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs.  He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea. 

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“ 

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?” 

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.  

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.” 

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core. 

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined. 

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer. 

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you. 

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now. 

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen. 

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts. 

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open. 

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.” 

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“ 

“Better.” 

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him. 

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs. 

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time. 

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further. 

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide. 

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered. 

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her. 

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue. 

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched. 

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!” 

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks. 

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.” 

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.” 

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?” 

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks. 

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.” 

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot. 

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be. 

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs. 

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you. 

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment. 

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him. 

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions. 

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?” 

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap. 

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.” 

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath. 

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.” 

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance. 

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions. 

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?” 

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint. 

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.  

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.” 

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further. 

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further. 

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you. 

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but. 

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.” 

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt. 

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless. 

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.” 

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again. 

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours. 

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.” 

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips. 

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.” 

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks. 

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need. 

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.” 

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder. 

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.” 

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible. 

“Again.” He growled. 

“I’m yours!” You keened. 

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form. 

“Mine.” He whispered. 

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap. 

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed. 

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t. 

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.” 

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you. 

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his. 

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words. 

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck. 

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked. 

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you. 

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms. 

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body. 

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie. 

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse? 

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink. 

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed. 

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower. 

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought. 

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy. 

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you. 

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his. 

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.” 

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”   

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?” 

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love. 

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.” 

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.” 

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own. 

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.” 

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished. 

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said. 

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more. 

“Sleep well, my darling.” 

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Drabble

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, I've been quite busy with school so I hope you guys can be a little patient with content since I've been stuck on a slump and there's a lot of things I'm currently busy with at the moment because of school despite posting so much last week. Here's the weekly content and I hope you all enjoy :)

Also how do you all feel if I write works inspired by old gacha songs? And yes I used to be a gacha girly, it was some wild phase AHAHAHA

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

Brainrot, Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley who decided he wanted to get a divorce with you because things weren't working out between the both of you, so you had to share custody of your daughter.

You managed to get yourself together, having no time to grieve that part of you that he took with him because you had a little one depending on you. You loved that girl for all she was, however she brings you and Simon together.

Not that you resent her for it, god no, it wasn't her fault you and your husband couldn't see eye to eye.. that he refused to retire after everything, maybe it was just your paranoia getting to you. You couldn't stand the fear anymore, the fear of one day he's not the one you'll see when you open the front door but Price.

You forgot how difficult it was doing this on your own until now, you could barely get up, your head was actually killing you. You pushed through, making your daughter breakfast.

You felt like you were about to throw up, ears started to ring and everything else felt numb. The next thing you know was your eyes rolling back and everything going black, the last thing you heard was your toddler panicking, calling you over and over on the verge of crying.

All while you were unconscious, your little one runs to your room to look for your phone to call her dad.

"Listen I know we—" Simon said expecting you on the phone before getting cut off by his daughter..

"Dada! Momma's dead, dada. Momma's not breathing!" In a panic, she cried it out like a mantra. Simon was in a panic, he got up from where he was and was speeding towards what used to be your shared home.

The next thing you know, you were hearing the beeps of a heart monitor. All your senses were working, all except sight.. you didn't have enough energy to open them, in the coldness of your whole body from the well ventilated room, you felt warmth on your hand.

It was all too familiar, calloused but so gentle and warm. Simon.. it was Simon. All while processing this situation, all that's going through Simon's head are the what ifs.

"Fucking hell, help her.. My wife, she's been unconscious for thirty minutes. She's breathing but it's faint and she's burning" Simon almost yelled in a full panic, he was doing his best not to snap at the hospital staff but how couldn't he? Hadn't even realized that he called you something you weren't anymore, the title he took with him.

Your little one holding her dad's hand in the waiting room, she was observant, an emotionally intelligent little girl who holds her dad's hand. Simon keeps reminding himself to calm down, how much his bumblebee must be terrified, far more than he was so he takes her in his arms.

Sooner or later they were allowed to enter, doctor said you were stabilized and only collapsed from a horrid fever and so much fatigue. Thinking of losing you, just like that with no warning would be the second time Simon would lose you.

Now watching you unconscious, IV tube connected to you because of course you haven't been eating well either. It made him rethink everything, was it a mistake to give you those papers? Was it worth it losing the one person in his life who he would give his life for with no hesitation?

All he could do for now was sit next to you, no matter how long it takes for you to wake up because he doesn't have the strength to leave, maybe in a day or two but not now..

Part 2 anyone?

[0mg-bird]

Sunrise~ Tyler Owens x Fem! Reader

Summary: The curious case of the tornado wranglers, down to earth, girlfriend.

A/n: I just watched Twisters and am in love. Right now Sunrise by Ryan Bingham is my favorite song so here’s a little one shot inspired by it.

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Everyone’s called you crazy ever since you were born. The people in your small Texas town said you were the wild child, your parents had four boys and when their baby girl came around, she had a mean streak just like her brothers. Ten years old and standing in an empty corn field, looking at the thunder heads forming above you, hot and muggy air gusting against your skin, the crack of thunder didn’t scare you, you were utterly curious and amazed. You’ve known storms since you were a babe, you remember the shrill sound of the sirens going off and your mama screaming for you to come inside. Your family was in a panic, you remember your daddy letting the horses loose and the way the cattle ran. That funnel touched down and prayers were prayed, you watched from the bathroom window despite the way your mama dragged you away.

It was beautiful, so utterly terrifying in the distance, a force of straight power.

You were hooked.

Telling your parents you were going to the University of Arkansas to study meteorology was a good idea in theory until they told you becoming a weather girl was a sweet job.

You told them about storm chasing and your mama almost had a stroke.

But you’ve worried everyone your whole life, only you would choose something so crazy.

You met Tyler your sophomore year when you had the same class, your energetic personality hid the fact you were a nerdy kind of cowgirl. The two of you quickly became best friends, despite his cocky personality. You formed a dare devil connection, you were the call he made when he got a lead on something.

Graduation came and you said you were going back home, he hated that idea.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, everywhere.”

It’s hard to say no to a man with puppy dog eyes.

Somewhere between gathering a crew up from all over the boons and adopting a one eyed dog you found stranded after a storm in Little Rock, the two of you fell so deep for each other, it hit harder than any storm you experienced.

Here you are now in Oklahoma, cutting through fields in Tyler’s red Ram truck. “Lilly, talk to me.” You call over the radio system on the dash, looking for what data the girl in the vehicle following has. In the backseat, Boone, the right hand man, is recording like always, talking to the followers.

“Welcome back guys, we’re currently back at it again in the Oklahoma plains. This beauty we’re going into is gaining speed, turning into something good. What are we thinking, Tex?”

You look to the camera and smile. “You know, I’d like to call this an easy F2 but the strong updraft we’re getting here could push this baby into the F3 category.”

Also from the back seat, Ben, the London journalist asks to explain what you just said.

The rain cap starts and muddies the earth, the truck drifts as Tyler maneuvers it greatly. You pull your sunglasses off and lean forward to get a better look at what you’re driving into.

“What are you thinking, darlin’?” Tyler asks, seeing the way you evaluate the area.

“Take a left, it ain’t gonna hit the tree line, see the way the wind shifted?” You instruct.

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, giving you one of his perfect grins before making a sharp left.

Ben makes a sort of strangled cry of fear as he gets tossed around in the back. You, completely nonchalant, chewing on a Red Vine, turn to look at the Brit.

“Ben, baby, how you feeling back there?” You ask, pointing something else out to Tyler.

“Oh I’m bloody great.” He lies before getting knocked into the door again. You laugh. “Man, I love this guy.” You declare, finding him so amusing. “Let’s keep him, Ty.”

He rolls his eyes at you, making you scoff. You look at the dog in your lap who’s wearing a tiny helmet with the words ‘Killa’ written across the front. “What you think, Rocky? You wanna keep Ben?”

The dog lays his head down and places his paw over his small snout.

“Rude. Ty, Rock used to agree to everything I say, now you’ve done gone and brain washed him. Poor fella.” You pout before yelping in surprise at the way Tyler drifts into a spot. He grips the radio, calling for the convoy to assume their positions.

“Sorry, I’m no expert but it looks like the twister is going to roll right over us.” Ben says as everyone buckles their harnesses.

“You’re exactly right Benny boy.” You say, opening the center console and placing Rocky inside his designated safety seat. “We need to be in its path so the data bugs we’ll launch have enough wind speed to reach the height needed. Put your harness on and you’ll be about as secure as a pistol in a PTA Mama’s purse.”

Ben looks to Boone in question. Boone just shrugs. “At some point you get used to all the odd shit she says.”

Tyler cranks the E brake, then looks at you with a smirk. “You wanna touch my joystick?” He ask, motioning to the control stick that has the button to activate the drills that will anchor the truck into the ground.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” You scrunch your nose, pushing the button.

The truck is secured, you’re all buckled in tight, now you have to focus on when it’s the perfect time to launch the processors. Things are blowing against the windows, Tyler’s laughing and Boone is howling into the camera, showing the viewers what they see.

“Tell me when.” Tyler says, and as thick water drops pummel the windshield, you stay silent, waiting…watching.

“Now!” You shout and he presses the button that activates the hydraulic opening lid to the tub in the truck bed, the small bug sensors fly out and are carried up into the funnel that is passing over you.

“Breaker breaker, what are we seeing?” You call into the radio, Dexter in the caravan off in the clearing responds. “We got eyes, Tex. Data is coming in clear.”

You shoot your arms up in victory, this was the first time you were launching the 2.0 sensors. “There we go!” You look directly into the camera Boone is pointing at you. “You see that kids? I still got it.”

You watch the storm pass you, the funnel goes into the distance and the winds calm a bit as you unbuckle your harness. You’re pulling the pup from its safety and throwing open the door, running to the spot it just was.

“Whoo!” You hear Tyler whoop, and you throw that snapback hat of his you were wearing, adrenaline pumping through you. He sweeps you into his large arms, twirling you around. “Did you see that, baby? God, that was beautiful.” He laughs and you pull on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I sure did, let’s go get those bugs before we lose their signals, cowboy.”

Later as you set up camp in some cheap motel, Ben is approaching Lilly and Boone with questions.

“I need a story about the girl, uh Tex? Does she have a name?” He settles into one of the fold out chairs and motions to you sitting on the roof of the truck, looking up at the stars and listening to the music playing on the radio.

Lilly chuckles and then makes an adjustment to her drone. “She does, but she’d kill you if she found out you was using her government name in your fancy paper.”

Ben finds that interesting, he writes a few notes about a very mysterious persona you have. “How long has she been in this business? I tried to ask her some questions but she shushed me and told me she was ‘meditating to a Childers song’ and it was very important that she did this.”

Boone shakes his head. “She says confusing stuff to make people go away when she wants her peace.” He explains. “Tex is the original, her and T were the ones to assemble the squad of us, they taught me everything I know. She might be crazier than he is if I’m bein’ honest, always pushing the limits but every move she makes is calculated.”

Lilly agrees. “She’s my best friend, but has always been a curious case. She comes from Texas, hence the nickname and the accent that gets too thick when she’s drunk. Mama wanted her to be this Southern belle but she turned out to be a real wrangler. She’s the smartest person I know, but has a very relaxed way about her.”

“Who?” Dexter asks as he passes by.

“Tex.” They answer.

He shakes his head. “That girl’s a tree hugging loon.”

Ben quickly comes to know the dynamic of you and Tyler. There is no home but each other, you make the best of every situation because you are together. Two pairs of cowboy boots and wide eyes, that’s what you two are.

“I’d compare her to like…a coyote.” Lilly determines. “She’s the perfect balance of wisdom and foolishness, always willing to make light of situations. One time, we were tracking a desert storm in New Mexico and we were camping in our trucks, it was hot, all our leads were gone and we’re ready to turn back. The sunrise comes and it’s prettiest thing I ever seen, we wake up to just a color spill of orange and pink. We open our doors up and Tex is out there dancing in a sports bra and boxers.”

Boone leans back in his chair, laughing at the memory. “Man, we thought she finally lost it, that being with Tyler for so long finally made her go off the rails. T is standing there, watching her, asking what the hell she was doing and she claims she was doing a rain dance.” He says, making Ben chuckle to himself.

Lilly lights a cigarette and rolls her eyes. “She was out there shaking her ass.”

“You fucking joined her!” Boone argues, taking the cigarette from her.

“Well yeah, you don’t let your best friend dance alone. And what happened that day? The rain came and the biggest thunderheads I had ever seen blew in. The lightning was beautiful, Ben, you shoulda been there.”

New Mexico rain was a memory you thought of often, it just felt a little fresher. Blame it on the heat you were dying of or the thirsty land you stood on, but you stood out in it, getting soaked to the bone and then fell into Tyler’s arms.

Now, far away in Oklahoma, Tyler stands looking up at you soaking in the moonlight. “Come down from there.” He calls. You lean over the edge of the roof and look at him. “Why don’t you come up here?” You challenge.

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m tired, darlin’. Let me take you inside.”

You look back up at the stars, then slide from the top of the truck, making him reach out and catch you. “Alright, take me to bed you old man.”

He shakes his head at your comment. It’s hard to resist anymore, you just looked so gorgeous underneath the moonlight. He leans to kiss you, nothing too deep but still of passion because he loves tasting the sugar of your lips, you were always so sweet that it made his head cloudy.

Arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist, the two of you say goodnight to your friends and head to your motel room, Rocky trotting after you. The lock on the door is hard to budge open, the room has a sort of stale smell.

As Tyler is distracted by setting up a bed for the dog, you grab your things from your duffel. “Dibs in the bathroom.” You shout before making a run for it. Tyler groans and tries to beat you, but you stand in the doorway, sticking your tongue out at him. “You just gotta be faster.” You tease before shutting the door in his face.

The low bulb light casts a hazy orange glow to everything, you start the shower and find it to have weak water pressure. Your clothes make a pile on the floor and soon the air steams up.

Your muscles relax as you wash off, you let out a small groan at your fingers scrubbing your scalp. The sound of the shower curtain being pulled back and Tyler stepping in behind you makes you turn. “I haven’t even been in here that long.”

He shrugs, then moves to hog the water. “I got impatient.”

After being with someone for so long and sharing everything, nothing really fazes you. The crew jokes that you and Tyler could probably morph into one body at this point.

By the time the two of you are mostly rinsed off, he’s getting handsy. His fingers trace over your handful of tattoos, wet skin sliding across you in a feverish way. You lean your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. “Ty…”

He looks down you was an innocent smile. “Oh come on, we’ve been traveling with people for too long. We get one night without Boone gagging when I kiss you.” He says, then leans his head down, nuzzling into your neck.

You bite your lip at the feeling, your arm coming up to run your hand through his hair. “Who’s in the room next to us? These walls are thin.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.” He mumbles, hand slipping far past your navel, earning a loud gasp from you.

You lean your weight back against him, nodding feverishly as his fingers do wonders to an aching spot between your legs. “Okay, not having Boone around is really good.” You breathe.

He’s practically holding you up, his other arm is around you, holding you to his chest while he makes you fall apart.

It didn’t matter that the room hasn’t been updated since the 80’s or that the mattress groaned under the weight of the two of you or that Rocky runs and hides, the two of you were savoring this alone time because you didn’t know when the next time would be when you got it.

You’re laughing, making out and switching positions. The feel of his hand running past the valley of your breasts and giving your throat the lightest grip, it makes you feel on fire. The headboard’s getting knocked into the wall, you’re breathlessly whining and he’s loving every reaction you give him. By the time you’re gripping his shoulders so tight and his name is sounding broken as it cuts from your throat, he’s barely holding himself up.

The air conditioning makes an odd hum sound as you lay against him, skin on skin. You never understood how people could get bored of sex after being with someone for a while, having sex with Tyler Owens was hotter than west Texas in the Summer.

Well, the first time was a little awkward. Most people don’t establish they love each other before they sleep with each other, but you guys did. When you sat in his lap, lips slotted against his, you had to fight to push the idea out of your mind that you were grinding against your best friend. Everything was slow and every touch was unsure, after it ended you were scared that the relationship dynamic would never work if this was how sex was together.

You laugh now, thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, fingers tracing the long horn skull that is tramp stamped on you.

“I’m just remembering the first time we had sex.” You shake with amusement. He groans. “You have to stop bringing that up.”

Pushing up from his chest, the blanket falls off of you. He watches in amazement as you swing your leg over his waist, your hands planted on his chest. “I think it’s cute, we were just babies.”

“Yeah, sometimes I miss the days where I didn’t know how insane you were.”

You glare, immediately going to move off of him before his grip yanks you back to your spot.

“I’m kidding, I always knew you were crazy.” He says.

“You love it.” You lean over him, and his hand comes to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “You know I do, darlin’.”

Falling asleep was easy, you could fall asleep anywhere, but in a bed with Tyler holding you to his chest, it had you dreaming in seconds. You wake before he does, slowly sliding away to get dressed. You stand at the balcony outside, a cup of coffee in your hand as you watch the sunrise. After a few moments of peace, the door behind you opens and out comes your lover boy.

“No rain dance this morning?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s plenty of rain in Oklahoma, they don’t need me to shake my ass in the parking lot for it to come.” You state, leaning down to pick up Rocky who trailed out after Tyler.

The two- well, three of you, look out at the horizon line, the air is already getting hot.

“You ready?” He asks you, and you turn to kiss his jaw. “I’m always ready.”

[81folklore]

dress - VETTEL

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it

authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets

authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards

authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)

masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others

yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?

view comments

user3: NEW ERA INCOMING

user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS

user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?

user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation

user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT

user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭

yourusername

liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others

everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…

this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’

dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys

you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all

this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.

dress out now on all platforms🖤

comments on this post have been limited

sebupdates

liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others

seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(

view comments

user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)

user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!

user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH

user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK

user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭

user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭

user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??

sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!

user18: ok thank you :)

user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭

user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?

user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!

part 2!

[leighsartworks216]

Angel, Please

Zayne x gn!Reader

Went shopping with my roommate thinking it would be really quick, and then spent like an hour in there just pushing the cart for them and losing all energy and ability to think. This is the result of that

Title is from the song "Angel, Please" by Ra Ra Riot

Warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, avoiding a mental breakdown, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the shopping list in your hand, written in a mix of handwriting. Some items listed were written down by Zayne, others were added by you. A culmination of a week or so worth of groceries. It’s harder to read the words than it should be.

You have milk, cereal… You look back and forth between your cart and the list, but you can’t connect the dots. Nothing is clicking together.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

Your skin feels uncomfortably hot and itchy, but you don’t take off your sweatshirt and you don’t scratch. Your chest is tight, and you can’t seem to get a deep enough breath in. You zone out while staring at the list, urging your body to get a hold of itself.

“Excuse me,” someone scoffs as they invade your space to reach for something on the shelf behind you. They give you a look, judgemental and cruel, and walk away with a huff. Their basket bumps your cart with a clang that makes you twitch.

God, could they please turn the music down? The lights down? You just- You just need everyone to disappear. You just need to disappear.

You bite your cheek long enough to suffer through a self-checkout. You rapidly scan whatever you do have - more than just milk and cereal, but you don’t even process them anymore - and pay as quickly as possible, conscious of the eyes of other waiting customers trying to check out boring into you, judging you, urging you to just fucking move already.

The cool autumn air doesn’t soothe you enough. You throw everything into the trunk of your car. The pavement of the parking lot vibrates your hands as you push the cart to the nearest return. You rub them on your sweatshirt desperately.

You have to keep it together. You can’t break down in a parking lot at a grocery store just because all of your senses were freaking out. You are a Hunter! You fight Wanderers! You put your life on the line every single day! Why are you losing it here of all places?!

Your hands shake as you find Zayne’s number. It connects to the bluetooth in your car and you pull out of the parking space.

Are you really 100% fit to drive? No. But you need to get away from here as soon as possible. As tempting as it would be to ask to be picked up, you don’t want to be a burden.

“Hello?”

You swallow thickly. Your hands rub restlessly at the steering wheel. “H-Hey.” You clear your throat. “Hey. I’m heading home now.”

“Are you alright?” Zayne asks.

You want to put your head on the wheel and cry. You feel pathetic.

“Did something happen?” You picture his frown. The way his eyes sharpen when he tries to pick apart a little mystery. You want him with you right now. “Please answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you answer quickly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. You know you’re trying to convince yourself. You know he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Just… Just stay on the phone with me until I get back. Can you…? Am I bothering you?”

He hushes you softly through the phone. “You’re not bothering me, darling. I’ll stay with you.” You sigh shakily. His voice sounds so nice right now. Your left leg bounces restlessly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You scramble to think of anything. You anxiously wait for traffic to clear enough to let you turn out of the parking lot. Your mind is taking in too much and too little information at the same time. Cars are just colored shapes, but you know where every single light source is around you. They keychains hanging from the key in the ignition rubs your leg like someone is drawing fire across your skin with a paintbrush. You try batting them away, but the jingle grates in your ears like it’s been amplified.

You pull into the flow of traffic, at last.

“Why don’t we talk about that show you enjoy so much?” he offers carefully. “The one with the girl caught in a love triangle? What was her Evol again?”

“She…” You swallow and check your speed. As badly as you want to get home, you don’t want to get pulled over either. “She can feel other people’s emotions. And, and in one episode she changes them, too.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she feel the attraction from the other characters? The men from the love triangle. What are their names?”

“Joseph and,” you turn on your blinker and wait at the stop light, “Damien. She can, but she feels bad because she’s not interested in either of them. So she pretends she doesn’t feel it.”

“So if she’s not interested in the prospective love interests, who does she like?”

You slowly pull up as a yellow arrow blinks, waiting for a gap in traffic to pull through. Once you’re driving steadily again, you answer. “She has a crush on her bed friend in the show, Melina. It’s really sweet, actually. But Melina has no clue, even though Therese, the main girl, keeps hinting at it, because Melina thinks Therese is interested in Damien.”

“That would be a tricky situation to be in. Who do you think she’ll end up with by the end?”

You laugh, but it’s slightly airy and strained, like someone punched it out of you. “I hope she gets with Melina, obviously!” You turn your blinker on again at a stop sign and turn after a second. This road doesn’t get too busy. “There’s actually some hints that Joseph and Damien will end up together. Everyone online thinks they’re competing for Therese’s love to try hiding their own feelings for each other.”

He doesn’t respond for a second. “Are you almost home, darling?”

You blink, and just like that, you’ve been snapped back into your body, aware once more of your surroundings. You’re in the middle of pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. You don’t even remember the drive to get there. “Y-Yeah. I’m here, actually,” you murmur.

“Okay. I’ll meet you down there. Do you need me to stay on the phone until then?”

You fiddle with the keychains, considering it. Everything doesn’t feel so itchy anymore. Your eyes hurt, but it feels more like the sting of exhaustion. Your head still thuds with a headache, but the noises that fueled it before feel more bearable now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Call me again if you need to. I’m on the way.”

The call ends and you turn off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and holding them in your lap. You feel surreal, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your body now that it’s not screaming about every little thing. The parking lot outside your window doesn’t feel real. The bike you parked next to, your bike, feels out of place.

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel, shutting your eyes tightly. Why can’t you just feel normal already?

A finger taps on the glass. You look up and watch as Zayne opens the door for you. “Are you alright?” he asks again.

You bite your tongue to avoid answering automatically. But the real answer eludes you. You don’t think you’re gonna freak out if your sweatshirt happens to brush your neck in a weird way, but you’re not exactly sure you could just calmly ignore it if it did happen either.

You slip out of the seat and out of the car. Zayne has that concerned look on his face, like you’ve just told him you haven’t slept for a week straight, but he doesn’t say anything, just shuts the door behind you.

He opens the trunk and begins gathering messily thrown-together bags of groceries. You grab one of the lighter ones that he leaves for you, and close the trunk. The car beeps when you hit the lock button on the fob.

Once you’re inside, you sit at the kitchen island and watch as he puts away everything you got. You find the crumpled list in your pocket. You have the clarity now to see just how many items you missed, including things you needed to make dinner tonight. You want to crumple yourself up into a ball like this paper.

Zayne’s hand comes into view as he slides the paper over to where he stands. He has a notepad and a pen, and he goes down the old list to write out what you missed.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer until he finishes the list, clicking the pen and setting it down. Then, his full attention is on you. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

You can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough admitting actual health issues to him, let alone stupid shit like this. Logically, you know he’s seen this happen to you before, know he wouldn’t think it’s stupid like you do. But it’s still difficult.

“I just got overwhelmed,” you mutter. You trace shapes into the marble countertop. “Everything was so loud and bright and… And I panicked, that’s all.”

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh and cross your arms on the counter, resting your chin on them. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired. But I’m not? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real right now.”

He hums in understanding. “I can think of several treatment plans that may help.” You finally look at him and he shoots you a wry grin. “First, I suggest you take some pain medication for your headache, before it gets any worse. After that, you have a few options. You can go take a nap or spend some time alone to decompress. You can put on your noise-cancelling headphones and listen to music or a podcast. Or we can watch that show you told me about, and I can make you some tea.”

“That’s a lot of choices, doc.”

“It’s in the patient’s best interests to have a lot of options,” he says. “You’re not beholden to any one choice.”

You look away as you think about it. What do you want right now? What do you need? “Can I mix and match?”

He nods. “Of course you can.”

“Tea sounds nice,” you start. “I don’t want to sleep right now, but I can listen to music, I think. But I just want to be with you.” You look at him again. “Is that alright?”

He smiles, answering you without words. Instead, he moves around the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He disappears down the hall to retrieve two pills and your headphones, setting both on the counter in front of you. He fills a glass with some water for you to take the meds. You grab the headphones and slip them on, and head over to the couch to get comfortable. They connect to your phone once you turn them on. You scroll through your playlists for a while, but the more you look, the more unappealing it sounds to you.

Zayne comes in with a steaming mug of tea, prepared how he knows you like it. You hesitantly take off your headphones. “Actually, will you read to me?”

“What would you like to hear?”

You shrug. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice right now.”

He browses the bookshelf nearby. You set your headphones down and blow on the tea to cool it down. He slips one of the books out and carries it over to the couch. You curl into his side the second he’s sitting down.

The book is one of your favorites. You’ve never seen him read it before, but he’s seen you pull it out lots of times ever since you moved in together. You smile. A comfortable warmth emanates from your heart.

The paper slides gently from one side to the next as he turns the pages. It’s not grating. It doesn’t send shocks of discomfort through your body. You cradle the mug close as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes relax as you skim the familiar words. His shirt on your cheek isn’t scratchy at all. It’s nice and soft.

He begins reading and you close your eyes. You breathe in deep the cool scent of his cologne, the fresh smell of his body wash, the slightly bitter, rich essence of the tea.

You can relax here. You can exist here. This feels real.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Ok, I've thought about it for a while and I've decided on what I want to request. This is a mix of angsty/fluffy maybe suggestive so let me know if this is too much but I'm thinking dormleaders from twst x faker reader. By faker I mean reader is always acting suave and they are really flirty, but a lot of the time they are overthinking about how they must be annoying people. (totally not speaking from personal experience) Reader's love language is physical touch so they always want to be cuddling or at least touching somehow. Reader is teasing and then one day their s/o snaps at them for being clingy and that makes reader give up and spiral on how they must be stupid for thinking that their s/o actually liked them. Then reader doesn't talk to their s/o for a while, (lets say 2-3 days, maybe) eventually reader is cornered by their s/o and admits how they feel. Fluff ensues and reader gets to worship and praise their s/o's body like they wanted. Then reader is reassured in their connection with their s/o.

Is that a lot? I feel like it's a lot, I'm so sorry please ignore me if I am overstepping. Thank you so much for even looking at that massive hunk of text and attempting to decipher it.

Well wishes, love - 🕸 anon (Dec 17, 2023)

Dorm Heads - Male Reader Who's Clingy & Flirty To Hide Their Insecurity

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🕸Spiderweb Anon, It's almost been a year since you sent this to me; I'm so sorry that I've ignored it until now! You probably don't even remember that you sent this in the first place, but I hope I captured what you wanted all that time ago. Sidenote– I took the avoiding part out because they have too much influence in the NRC for you to avoid them, I'm just being realistic here. This post is written in the second person. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Super Shy” by New Jeans. —Benny🐰

WARNINGS ➔ Canon Personality Leona & Vil; They Aren't Very Empathetic in Canon and I'm Tired of Getting Complaints From Anons About How ‘Mean’ They Are in My Writing So There's The Warning

WORD COUNT: 4,301 words

                                                                                                   

❝𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞-- 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊-- 떨리는 지금도 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊-- 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞~❞

. . .

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🌹  This little British boy is all about doing things in the right place at the right time, but his reaction also depends on his mood and other outliers. Riddle does enjoy it when you give him physical affection and stick close to him, it makes him feel desired and cared for, however, if you do it too often, he'll feel suffocated. As for flirting… I don't think it matters what time you do it, he won’t take it too well. Riddle feels like flirting is very private and depends on the circumstances; plus, he gets embarrassed in intimate situations due to his love-lacking childhood. However, he does like to feel handsome and desirable to you so he won't complain too much; if you're doing it in front of others or in an inappropriate setting, prepare to have a collar around your neck.

🌹  Remember the collar? You're getting collared, but he's channeling his anger in a non-violent way, right? The only way I believe Riddle would snap at you is if you continuously forgot (or ignored) his warnings and reminders about your behavior and how he feels about it. Keep in mind that he considers three times to be continuous. There will be a lot of yelling, his face will resemble a tomato, and you will certainly cry. While he's not as quick to anger as before he overblotted, he still has a pretty short temper and can hold a grudge for quite a long time, so I hope that collar is comfortable. Riddle will eventually remove it, but while he's avoiding you out of disappointment in himself, it won’t be at the top of the list of things to address. And yes, he will run to his therapi– I mean, Trey, for help to fix all of this.

🌹  Riddle… has never been all that good at apologies or accepting that he's in the wrong in the first place, so it'll take him a while to work up the courage and the maturity to apologize to you. He'd probably go and get you from your dorm and drag you off to his own to sit down for tea and awkwardly beat around the bush for a while. But, if you're silent for long enough, he'll push his pride aside and admit he was wrong with how he went about reacting as well as explaining why exactly he got so upset with you. Riddle will set clear boundaries after apologizing for his behavior and will explain the reasons why your actions were unacceptable to him. While he would prefer that you forgive him, he makes it clear that you don't have to and that he needs to work on expressing his irritation in a less harmful way to benefit both of you.

🌹  After sitting down for tea and discussing your insecurity, Riddle would be both incredibly supportive of you and somewhat disappointed that you don't trust that he loves you enough to think you're worthy of him. It breaks his heart that he subconsciously made you feel like you had to act out the way you did. Riddle makes sure to establish that he loves you as you are, insecurity and all. He sets aside time for you two to spend time together and lets you indulge in giving him as much physical affection as you want.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

“Don't pretend to be someone you're not; I like you jus’ as you are when you're yourself. If you want to touch me that's fine; jus’-! jus' do it in a private place... alright, My Rose?”  

 🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

🦁  Leona does not like being clung to or touched often. He prefers it if he's the one to initiate physical contact and affection, it helps him feel more in control. Most times, he doesn't even touch you and only hangs out nearby (which could be inches away to just in the same general vicinity); he just prefers it that way. So, clinging to him, at all really, is a surefire way to piss him off, since he doesn't like the feeling of being restricted or weighted down; especially when he's just waking up, it makes him feel like he's suffocating. Flirting, on the other hand, is sort of a love language in itself for Leona; although his flirting is more on the low-energy side. Since he wants to make his partner feel desired by him he's bad at thinking of gifts and date locations and is too lazy to do acts of service, words of affirmation are his go-to. He doesn't like to do it too often though, or it doesn't feel as meaningful and genuine as he means it to sound.

🦁  Yikes. If he snapped at you… honestly, didn't you deserve it? You must be blind not to notice his discomfort with your actions which he voiced to you a few times. But, hey, maybe you didn't notice; some people can't read the room or other people well, and I don't blame you for that, because I can't either. As a feline, Leona values personal space and control more than most things, and your clinging to him will piss him off quickly. He can usually keep his mood in check, but all it takes is one bad day and you do that will 100% end in him taking all his pent-up irritation out on you. He'll most likely say some hurtful stuff in his fit of anger and won't see you for a few days. Leona might even ban you from his dorm for those few days if he's pissed enough; he doesn't want to feel like the bad guy, so he won't acknowledge that he is for a bit.

🦁  Honestly? Leona is the type of person who gets over stuff after a few hours to a few days and expects you to do the same. If you don't and you bring it up again, he'll likely hit you with the ‘That was so long ago and you aren't over it yet?’. However, he'll get it into his head that he may have seriously hurt your feelings if he sees any drastic changes in your behavior. Things like avoiding him, not speaking to him, cowering away from him, flinching, ending the conversation when you see him nearby, and leaving the room after he enters. But what gets Leona bad, is if he sees that he made you cry. When I tell you that this man will be on his knees after seeing just the reddening of your eyes I'm not joking. He didn't think he upset you that bad before but now, he's groveling for your forgiveness, because he knows that you're the only person that's willing to put up with his shit on top of loving you more than the air he breathes each day.

🦁  Leona will treat you like royalty after he apologizes, explaining that while he doesn't like being touched he'll indulge you now and then because he knows you just want to show him how much you love him. He'll also do his best to dispel all of your insecurities and remind you that it's not you that doesn't deserve him, but him that doesn't deserve you. Although Leona isn't the best person in Twisted Wonderland, he'll try his best for you.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

“HEY- GET OFF! –Oh shit, no no no, I didn’t mean to make ya cry. M’sorry, I just got startled ‘n’ today has been shit, so I took it out on ya in the end. Nakupenda, Wangu*; ya know that doncha?”  

 🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐙  This one's hard… while I want to say that Azul would greatly appreciate your affection toward him and his body; we also have to take into account his issues with his self-image. Going by that– I don't think that he would like it if you touched him very often. The problem wouldn't be that he's uncomfortable, embarrassed, or annoyed, but that he doesn't want you to touch him and then feel disgusted with how his body is shaped. Like you're insecure about whether you're worthy of him, he's insecure about if he's worthy of you. The flirting, though, he wouldn't mind too much. Azul loves your praise, as it means that you find him attractive enough to talk to him that way. This poor man has such serious body issues that it's ridiculous, so if you flirt with him too often, he won't think it's genuine anymore and that you're making fun of him.

🐙  With Azul it's probably just a spur-of-the-moment outburst mixed with his stress and insecurity type of thing. In absolutely no way did he mean to direct this outburst at you, you just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back, and like a shell on the beach, all his reason was swept away by the tide. He's the kind of guy who bottles all of his stress and grievances and your actions happened to make him reach his breaking point and everything just came out all at once. Azul likely just yelled at you to leave him be and get out of his office; fleeing to his octopot in regretful tears once you left the room and not coming out for days until he could get himself together again. He had to be coaxed into eating by Jade and Floyd due to how bad he felt for blowing up on you.

🐙  This man is distraught; he is beside himself with grief, regret, and shame. It takes all of Azul's willpower and the somewhat aggressive coaxing of the tweels (mostly Floyd threatening to bite off one of his tentacles and send it to you as an apology gift) to get him to finally leave the safety and comfort of his octopot and go to knock on your door. As soon as that door opens, he goes full-on into apologizing profusely and explaining that while what you did irritated him a bit he in no way meant to direct all of his pent-up stress toward you and that your actions just happened to open the floodgates for him. Azul would be in tears by the time he finished speaking, praying that you wouldn't leave him because of this incident. If you forgive him, he cries in relief and if you don't, although he's sad, he understands and promises that he'll do everything in his power to win back your trust in him and make sure that this never happens again.

🐙  Azul will explain to you about his insecurity with his body and his fear of making you dislike him and his appearance. However, once he hears about your insecurities, he's kind of shocked; he was so caught up in his own self-loathing that he didn't even notice yours! Be assured that Jade locked you both in his office and didn't let you both out until you worked out a plan to condole the both of you of your worth to each other. You and Azul had fallen asleep in each other's arms by the time Floyd remembered that you were being held captive in there and opened the door. He took blackmail photos.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

“Øjesten*, I… I apologize for my outburst; I'm just- I don’t like- ahem… ah… I have no excuse. You know how I feel about my appearance, I just didn’t want you to be disgusted with me. I’m sorry.”  

 🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

👑  Vil lives for being appreciated. Whether it's through actions, words, objects, services, or just being admired; he loves it! However… there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. He loves you, but damn, he barely had any time to himself before getting with you, but now? It's not that he won't make time for you, he definitely tries, but he just has so much on his plate all the time. With managing his beauty routine, the dorm and its students, school work, modeling, singing, acting, keeping up his media appearances, and his one-sided rivalry with Neige, this man is BUSY. And that's not even mentioning the overblots that keep popping up out of nowhere; sorry hun, you're just going to have to squeeze in when you can or be okay with stopping yourself at just being near him as a way of spending time until he can fix his schedule. On the subject of flirting, though… yeah, don't even bother, but at the same time, yes, compliment him. Vil, being himself, has heard pretty much every compliment, praise, and risqué remark under the sun; you need to be very creative, or he'll probably just roll his eyes at you. If you do it too often, he'll get annoyed and probably ask if you have something better to do.

👑  Okay— I’m just going to cut this off right here- Vil is the type of person to set his boundaries with you immediately, so, at the very start of the relationship, you would know what to do and what not to do. However, if you end up doing it anyway (which would likely just be you forgetting about it or you're so stressed that it left your mind momentarily), there lies the problem.  If you did it after Vil already initially told you he didn’t like it the first time, he would just stop you, explain why he doesn’t want you to do it, and ask you to remember it for next time. Another thing- this man is a confident king (after his overblot), so he can smell your insecurity from a mile away. It will be addressed by him PERIOD. There is no way out of it- it WILL happen, I'm sorry. Either your insecurity will be gone quickly or your relationship will; it's one or the other, I implore you to just cooperate with him. Vil isn’t playing these games with you right now.

👑  I mentioned it earlier, but Vil will sit you down and address your insecurity with him; he's not the type of person to just let this issue go unsolved. Given his insecurity, however, he'll be very understanding of how you feel. The feeling of being less than others is something that Vil is familiar with, so he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel better about yourself.

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

“I’ll make this clear, Mein schönste Liebe*, there’s no need for this little show you’re putting on. I don’t have a lot of patience, so quickly, tell me what the problem is so that I can fix it.”  

 🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

🪲  You're giving him more affection than usual? Sign Kalim the hell up! He loves it when you hold onto him and give him physical affection! Do you want to sit on his lap? Sure! Do you want to hang off his arm or wrap your own around his waist? Okay! Kisses and hugs? Absolutely! As for flirting, I don't think that he is too innocent to understand what you mean, but that he doesn't get it until five minutes to an hour later. A lot of times, Kalim will suddenly realize what you meant when the conversation subject has already shifted to a completely different topic. However, he has no issues with it, since he believes that flirting is just an extension of complimenting him; it's just worded in a more risqué way.

🪲  I’m going to be completely honest with you here, this boy is too kind and non-confrontational to snap at you at all, so it just wouldn't happen. If he did have an issue with your behavior he’d most likely just sit you down and explain what exactly he needed you to change and why. Kalim will leave no room for misunderstandings at all, so there would be no way to hurt feelings on either side. The only person who would possibly be upset in the situation is probably you, but that would only be because you have to find another way to cope with your unspoken insecurity. Kalim isn't the brash type, so I can’t see him losing his temper with you at any point unless you committed a heinous action or something.

🪲  Kalim would probably still apologize even if all he did was explain some things to you, he’s a person who’s very in tune with other people’s feelings, so he’d make sure that your relationship was still good after everything. He’d bring you to his room and cuddle you on his huge plush bed, covered in the smoothest blankets and softest pillows, letting you touch, feel, and compliment him all you want- but only if you let him do the same to you. Probably also ask Jamil (poor Jamil, give him a vacation) to make you both some snacks or something, Kalim won't let his baby be hungry.

🪲  You will not be forced to talk about your insecurity, but Kalim will heavily encourage it for the sake of your mental health and the stability of trust in your relationship. He wants to wait until you're comfortable enough, but he also doesn't want to wait for too long in case there's a repeat of this incident. There's also now a big concern in his heart that he made you feel like you couldn't be yourself or made you feel like you aren't enough at some point. It will eat Kalim up inside, so he'll become overly indulgent with you for some time until you sit him down and talk about it. He just doesn't want you to feel like he's being neglectful of your emotions and well-being again.

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

“Aiyah, Rohi*, I wasn’t trying to be mean, I promise. I love you so so so much; but sometimes, even a guy like me needs a little alone time, that’s all. I would never dislike you for such a small thing.”  

 🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

💀  Eh… Idia is a very very insecure guy, but he's also incredibly antisocial and is used to being all by his lonesome besides his little brother. He likes his personal space a whole lot more than he realizes, so, to be truthful, the clinginess isn't something that will sit well with him after he has experienced it one too many times. It's mostly because it'll happen at times when he's preoccupied with something that requires a lot of his attention; like gaming, watching anime, or reading manga/lite novels, and he gets irritable when he's interrupted. On the side of excessive flirting, however, he'll dislike it not just because he thinks you aren't being genuine; but also because the topic makes him uncomfortable. As mentioned already, Idia is not a social person, thus being on the receiving end of something like that is way out of his comfort zone. Doing it excessively will only make him even more uncomfortable, as he thinks that you don't care about his feelings on the matter when it's obvious he dislikes it.

💀  Idia is a quiet, shy, and non-confrontational guy, however, his annoyance can quickly overpower all of that if it builds long enough. Once he's reached the end of his patience, he doesn't bother to be careful and think about what he says. It's most likely that instead of targeting your appearance or status, he'll go for the things that you're most sensitive about. Keep in mind that during all of this, he's absent-minded; his mind doesn't register exactly who he's talking to and what he's saying before he opens his mouth while his eyes continue to stare at whatever he is doing on his monitor setup beforehand. However, once Idia realizes just what he said to you he's in absolute shock at himself; yes, he'd expect himself to behave that way to other people, but to you? He would never do it intentionally… Honestly, though, he'd be more upset that you aren't comfortable enough to act like yourself around him than anything else.

💀  Similar to Azul, Idia regrets his words immediately; he beats himself up about it as well. How the hell did those sparky comments he had in his head slip through his lips? He thought he had more self-control than that! Seriously though, the first thing he does after he realizes that he said all of that outlook is call you. When and if you don't pick up, he sends you a few texts apologizing straightforwardly and explaining that he was upset about a lot of things and took it out as well as the fact that he's on his way to your dorm to speak with you in person. Once Idia's at your door and when and if you open up, he'll hug you and profusely apologize, likely putting himself down as well so that he can hurt himself as he did you. It's up to you if you want to stop him, but just know that the self-depreciation with continue to ratchet up in severity as time goes on; his insecurity and self-doubt will be on full display to you to let you know that you can show him too.

💀  You know how Idia does online classes or stays in his dorm and uses his tablet instead? You can do that too! The both of you can attend class remotely and cuddle while you do your class work or listen to lectures. He can lay his head in your lap while he's watching anime or reading his novels and he can sit you in his lap while he's gaming. Surprisingly though, Idia even suggests going out and visiting cat cafes together or going to a secluded place outside and listening to an audiobook. He's willing to change up his routine and step out of his comfort zone to make sure you know how much he loves you. He would do anything for you– well… almost anything, just give him a bit more time to work up the willpower.

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

“I… You know that I know what It's like to feel… like you're not enough. You don't– Y‐you know you don't have to pretend with me right? You can just be yourself when it's the two of us, P-psychí Mou*.”  

 🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

🐲  It depends on the place, the amount of people nearby who those people are, and his mood. As you know Malleus craves to be included, acknowledged, seen, and just to be given affection. This man is touch-starved to the max– but… he is still the prince of Briar Valley and must display a certain appearance to those who aren't close to or familiar with him. He'll allow small displays of affection out of the cover of his or your dorm room; things like holding hands, holding onto his forearm as you walk, briskly kissing each other's hands or cheeks, laying your heads on the other's shoulder, and other small but loving gestures. As long as you keep the more intimate actions away from prying eyes it's fine. As for flirting, Malleus also doesn't mind, but the same rules still apply. So long as you don't repeatedly show too much to those he doesn't wish to show your relationship to, he's happy as a dragon swimming in gold.

🐲  Malleus isn't the type of guy to snap at others, he confronts conflicts head-on if they pose an issue. However, if you do irritate him enough, he'll likely tell you that the both of you will have to take some time apart while he thinks about your relationship and what it means to the both of you. For him, crossing the boundaries that he has set is a violation of trust, respect, and understanding, and he needs to evaluate whether or not you're taking his thoughts, opinions, and feelings seriously. During your break, Malleus will avoid you, he'll greet you in the halls with a nod and carry on, there will be hardly a drop of affection from him until he's thought. He loves you, but for him, relationships are a very serious thing, and if you aren't respecting his boundaries, does he want to stay in a relationship with you?

🐲  He's not apologizing as there was no real wrongdoing on his part. However, if you felt hurt by his actions, he would calmly sit you down and carefully explain why he did them and follow that up by telling you that he felt hurt by your actions and he expects an explanation from you as well. Malleus is a patient and forgiving man, his life will stretch on for centuries and you and the relationship that the both of you have is a small but unforgettable part of that life. He doesn't want memories of a relationship with poor trust and communication between the participating parties; it just isn't worth it for him. Once you and Malleus have everything laid out on the table, he'll ask you to make sure to remember what he told you and that if you ever feel insecure in the future, simply talk with him and he'll talk you through it.

🐲  After you're very civil and diplomatic discussion of the ins and outs of your relationship, Malleus writes up a plan for the both of you. He lists the things that you both aren't comfortable with as well as things that you require and reworks his and your daily schedule around it. He does address your insecurity though, apologizing for making you feel like you aren't enough for him and making you feel like your relationship isn't important. Malleus loves you very deeply, and he wants to make sure that the two of you stay together in a happy relationship for as long as possible. He wants you to be a part of his family for as long as you love him, so he'll compromise as much as he needs to.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

“I have made you feel as though you cannot be your true self at some point in our union and that won't do at all. You are Mon Raison D'être, without you, I do not have the will to carry on, I beg for your forgiveness.”  

 . . .

❝𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞-- 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊-- 떨리는 지금도 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊-- 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞~❞

 *¹ ‘Nakupenda, Wangu’ translates from Swahili to mean ‘I love you, Mine’ with ‘Mine’ being a possessive term of endearment usually accompanying a sentence like ‘I love you’, though it can be used by itself.

*² ‘Øjesten’ roughly translates from old-fashioned Danish to mean ‘The apple of my eye’.

*³ ‘Mein schönste Liebe’ translates from German to mean ‘My Most Beautiful Love’, though if you took off the last word, ‘My Most Beautiful’ can still stand on its own as a term of endearment.

*⁴ ‘Rohi’ translates from Arabic to mean ‘My Soul Mate’; calling someone ‘Rohi’ means that you love them longer than your life as they are your soulmate.

*⁵ ‘Psychí mou’ translates from Greek to mean ‘My Soul’’

*⁶ ‘Ma Raison D’être’ translates from French to mean ‘My Reason for Being’ which is usually used only to express the deepest love and passion.

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[sweetyyhippyy]

Through the Radio. Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader. *ANGST*

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend is still grieving the loss of him after almost a whole year. Little does she know, he's still alive.

Word Count: 2k

TW: Death. Grieving. Mentions of sex (no details).

Note: I know that talking through the radio isn't how it worked on the show, but this is my story and I wanted it to work this way 🤣🤣

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This would have been the first time she had went to Lover‘s Lake without Eddie in tow.

She parked her car, far away from everyone else that was there. She sat in the driver side with the car idled while a mixed tape that Eddie had made for her months before his death playing softly in the back, staring at the full moon that was right in front of her window.

Some days were better than others for her grief. Only crying 3 times on a good day before noon, rather than her usual 5 or 6 by then. Today was an even worse day.

She decided with the rough day that she had; to go to the lake, somewhere that her and Eddie would frequent to just get away from the noise of their homes. It was the one place that she felt like she was still connected to him.

For the first night in almost a week, the skies were clear from the nighttime storms that were happening. All you could see was the twinkling stars in the sky and the moon lighting up the sky.

Going out to the lake on nights similar to this was their favorite type of date. Where all you could hear were the crickets chirping in the distance, and the calming sounds of the lake.

They both loved laying in the back of Eddie’s van with the back doors opened, laying on the makeshift bed that Eddie had set up with a collection of warm blankets and a ton of pillows for them. Music would be playing softly in the back, that way they could both still hear each other talking when they didn’t have their lips pressed against each other’s.

She couldn’t help but replay the night she lost Eddie in her mind over and over again on her bad days. She couldn’t help but think about everything she could have done differently, the biggest thing: not going with Steve, Robin, and Nancy to the Creel house to take down Vecna. In her mind, she had convinced herself that if she was with Eddie and Dustin instead, that Eddie would still be alive.

Of course everyone said that there was nothing she could have done to help save Eddie, but they had to say that to keep her from completely losing her mind.

For almost a whole month after the night in the upside down, she didn’t speak to Steve, still hurt that he was the one that dragged her away from Eddie’s lifeless body, not budging while she tried to wiggle out of his arms and run back to him.

She begged Steve to at least take him back with the group, but nobody was strong enough to lift him up through the gate, especially with Dustin being injured. Steve had to snap at her, telling her that it wasn’t going to happen.

He took it while she screamed, cursed, and hit him. Steve knew that at some point she would get over it, and that she was doing it because she was sad and angry, he never took her words to heart.

She felt such guilt leaving him there, especially when she had to tell Eddie’s uncle that he was gone, and that he couldn’t even tell his nephew goodbye properly because “they couldn’t find his body” after the earthquake.

The beginning of the song “The Ocean” by Led Zeppelin snapped her out of her thoughts, making her aware of her thoughts, and just how loud they were. Her already sore eyes were filled with tears, all of them rolling down her cheeks as she finally blinked.

“Shit, Eddie… It’s real bad today. Everything I see reminds me of you. And it hurts worse to be constantly reminded that you’re really gone than it was to lose you to begin with.” She says to nobody, just venting her feelings out into space.

“You would be so mad at me, but I can’t help but wish that it was me instead.” Her whole body shook as she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. “I just wish you were here. I can’t do this anymore.”

Eddie could hear her clear as day from the other side, his own heart aching at the hurt in her voice while she called out for him. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to lie to her and pretend to be dead, but it was what was best for himself, just until his name could be cleared for Chrissy’s murder, Dustin said that he would make sure it happened.

Almost a whole year had passed, and he was still stuck in the darkness that was the upside down, still healing from almost being ripped to shreds by the demonic bats that inhabited the other world.

Dustin found a way to come visit Eddie so he wasn’t completely alone all the time, keeping him up to date on music and whatever else that he was missing in the real world. Every single time, Eddie would ask how his girl was doing, even though he already knew how she was doing.

“I just need to find a way for her to know I’m still here. You know how many times she’s changed the lightbulbs around her place because she thinks they’re going out? It’s not doing anything, man.” Eddie explained to Dustin on one of the nights he came to visit, bringing him some food, and some more clothes.

“She can’t know too much. You were the one that wanted it to be this way.”

“Yeah, I wanted it to be this way, but only because you said you could get my name cleared, Henderson. I wasn’t planning on staying in this hell hole my whole life! I need to let her know. I can’t take hearing her in pain anymore.”

Dustin sighs, thinking of a way he can still give Eddie both of the things he wants. “You’re going to have to play ghost.”

“What? I’m not actually dead, Henderson. What do you mean, play ghost?”

“It’s like when we talked to each other through the lite brite when all of you went through water gate. But instead of the light, you communicate with her through her radio at home. You have to go to her house here, and then talk to her through the stations.”

As much as he wanted to be with her through her tough thoughts, he needed to trek his way through the upside down to her house in order to “talk” to her tonight.

Even with the darkness and all the vines that were covering the “upside down” version of her room, Eddie still felt happy just standing somewhere he hadn’t been in a while. He missed the baby pink walls, the cute little stuffed animal corner she had, and that he added to when they were together, and the posters of Eddie Van Halen and Rob Lowe that were taped to her wall.

Eddie found the radio that sat on the nightstand next to her bed, brushing off the weird dust particles that covered it. He knew that as soon as she got home, she would turn it on, giving him the power to “talk” to her from where he was.

She flicks the light on to her room, tossing her jacket on her desk, taking a deep sigh as she stares at her empty bed. Sleeping alone was yet just another thing that she hated doing now, no fighting with Eddie over the blankets, pushing his face the opposite way because of his incessant snoring, or his warm cuddles in the middle of the night.

With another sigh, she turns the lights off, shedding out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor while she grabs a shirt from her closet and slipping it on, climbing into her bed.

As soon as her bare legs touch the cool sheets, she feels the tears come back.

“Fuck, stop it.” She whispers to herself. She sniffles as she reaches over, turning her radio on to listen to some music to help her go to sleep.

Of course all that was playing on her favorite station were commercials, but she just drowned them out while she hugged the pillow that was pressed against her torso, tight. She stared into the darkness of her room, only a little bit of moonlight coming in from the window across from her bed illuminated her room enough for her to makeout shadows of things.

Out of nowhere, the radio goes to static, making her jump slightly.

“Ugh, piece of shit.” She curses under her breath, sitting up to reach for the radio to turn it off.

Before she has the chance, the radio jumps into a song, one that had emotional ties to her and Eddie of course.

As cheesy as it was, her first time with Eddie was to “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue. It was truly one of those heat of the moment type moments for them, neither of them planning on anything happening when the night first started.

She couldn’t help but smile listening to the song, all of the memories of that night flooding back to her, and all of the nights afterward that they heard that song come on. One of them catching the other looking at the other with that hunger in their eyes before practically pouncing on the other.

Before the guitar solo, the static happens again, another song filling the room once the static stops.

She furrows her brows slightly, getting up from her bed to go turn her light on to see what was messing with her radio. As she gets up the sound happens again before settling on another station.

“What the fuck?” She gasps, turning the light on quickly.

Of course her first thought was a ghost, she had seen Poltergeist, she didn’t sleep for almost a week, but she had seen it.

“Unchained Melody” was playing in her room now, yet another song that had special meaning to her and Eddie.

Even though the song was old, it was one of her favorites, growing up listening to the song because of her parents.

It became another favorite of hers after Eddie, a little too high that night, grabbed her one night and slowed danced with her in the middle of her bedroom. It was a memory that would be engraved in her mind for the rest of her life.

Sure it was cheesy, but under his “tough metal head” persona he was a giant cheeseball.

The fucking universe had to be laughing at her playing this type of joke on her.

She walks up to the radio and goes to unplug it, but yet again, the channel changes. This time, the static doesn’t let up but a very faint voice echoes through her room.

Her body is frozen in her chair as she stares at her radio with fear in her eyes.

Even seeing all of the horror that was in the upside down wasn’t nearly as scary as what was happening in her bedroom.

“Can you hear me?” The voice calls out clearly. “Please tell me this worked.”

“What’s going on?” She mouths quietly.

“Sweetheart, please listen to me. I know this is crazy. Shit, please tell me you can hear me.”

There was no way that the voice she was hearing was Eddie’s. He was gone, she saw his lifeless body laying there as Steve dragged her away from him begging and screaming for him.

She was dreaming.

“Please say something, baby. Let me know you can hear me, please. Please.” The desperation in his voice was clear.

“Eddie?” She whispers softly at the radio, waiting for a response back as her eyes fill with tears. “Are you really there?” Her voice cracks.

“Holy shit, you can hear me. This worked!” He laughs from the other side of the speaker. “It’s me, baby.”

She sobs into her hands hearing his laugh, her heart beating out of her chest. “How? How are you talking to me? Where are you? You died, I-I-I saw you?”

“I have a lot of explaining to do and I know you’re going to be upset with me. Just please don’t turn the radio off, okay? Promise me?”

“I promise. Tell me everything, Eddie please.”

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[hellishjoel]

uneasy hearts weigh the most

7.3k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog

summary: Benny hosts the party of the year where broken pieces of Frankie's past are unearthed. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking and drinking alcohol, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.), house party, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, vivid writing of a mental disorder [capgras syndrome] and an accompanied nightmare, descriptions of violence against a parental figure, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers) A/N: I know this has been in the works for a while and I thank you for your patience! special shoutout to @thetriumphantpanda who beta'd this for me!! I owe her a 100 grand bar now! listen to the song uneasy hearts weigh the most and I'll kiss you on the forehead

Yeah baby, keep fuckin’ my fingers. “Do it again,” he mutters.  You moan louder as you gyrate your hips once more against his fingers, grinding your core against his knuckles.  “Fuck, baby,” he whispers with adoration.

The last time Francisco Morales saw his father was when he was punching his face in. 

It was a blur. 

Blood splattered across his face, neck, and shirt. His fist was crimson, his knuckles ached. But he couldn’t will himself to stop. 

Frankie would draw his arm back, using as much force as his little twelve-year-old body could muster, and plunge his whole body forward as he landed another hit. He couldn’t stop himself from crying, even when he was at his angriest. 

Why was he crying? Why couldn’t he stop crying? 

Frankie’s dad wasn't exactly father-of-the-year material. More like a drill sergeant with a drinking problem. When things got tough, he’d ditch his family for drugs and booze and only ever circle back when money turned to dust. 

His mom was falling apart before his eyes. His younger siblings were fearful because their mom, who was supposed to take care of them, couldn’t, and their father, who was supposed to love them, hurt them. 

Frankie was the oldest; he felt an obligation to protect everyone. But what can you do when you’re not even five feet tall?

If his father hadn’t been so strung out that night, Frankie wouldn’t have been able to tackle him to the ground like he did. He wouldn’t have been able to pin him down by fisting his ratty t-shirt and hit him like he did. As hard as he did. As many times as he did. 

Then, his father lay lifeless. Frankie blinked away his tears and let out a shaky sob. He got scared because he thought he had killed him. After all those puny hits, he laid limp. He wasn’t smart enough to know that he had just passed out from the drugs in his system. 

Frankie was so torn because how can you hate someone you’re supposed to love? How could his father leave the family he was supposed to be the foundation of? 

The Texas Department of Family and Protective Services intervened not long after. And he doesn’t like to think about it, any of it. 

Not growing up, not his family, nothing. 

But now he’s staring at a letter from his father. It’s his handwriting; the slant in the L’s, and the hook of his Y’s. Slightly smeary, written in pencil with eraser shavings damn near burned into the lined paper. He wrote this letter over and over again, trying to author the right words, to say the right things. 

Frankie’s heart stops, and all the memories rush back in a flood. It hits him like a fucking hurricane. 

Tommy’s Diner settles after its Friday night dinner rush. The hour before closing was always erratic, putting together to-go orders and ushering stacks of dirty plates from the tables to the back sink. 

Your shoulder blades collide with the swing door connecting the kitchen to the rest of the diner, using the force of your body to swing it open as you balance the ceramic plates in your arms. 

“Sorry, Lou. Just a few more.” You mutter tiredly as you set the stack beside the teenage dishwasher, hearing him sigh loudly before putting his earbuds back in place. He wasn’t one for many words. The most you knew about him was he listened to cringey, whiney rappers. 

You close your eyes for just a moment and lean back into the counter, craning your back and feeling each vertebrae realigning with anguish. Tina called in sick and you offered to work a double to pick up some extra hours this week. Besides, on days you didn’t work with Frankie, you were more… productive. 

The hum of customers gradually subsides, their chatter tapering off until the bell above the door chimes, signaling their exit. It’s nicer like this, when you don’t have to be the charming server who keeps up with all of their conversations from table to table. Especially after pulling a double, and your brain feels like it might melt. 

The staff worked diligently throughout the rest of the night, tidying up the tables and floors, not letting up until the countertops gleamed, the coffee pots shined, and the strong smell of cleaning fumes mingled in the air. 

You grow a fond smile thinking about spending the summer with Frankie. He adores being outside far more than you do. It’s impossible not to imagine how stupidly sexy he would look with his skin glowing a golden tan and a pair of sunglasses sitting lazily on the bridge of his aquiline nose. Loose, flowy shirt and a pair of shorts. Curls lost to the wind. 

He talks about taking you on nature walks through his favorite trails and driving you further out of your nowhere town so you can stargaze at midnight. Or maybe you could hit the beach and spend your days under the sun drinking margaritas and Coronas. 

Summer could change things for you. 

Admittedly, you’ve been fantasizing—romanticizing. You think about him even when he’s not around. You miss the home you’ve made on the open side of his bed, where you’d curl around his orange tabby cat with his arms circled around your waist. 

Worst of all were the nights you were back at your place, where there was no one around to cook you dinner or dish out goofy conversations. Having to snake touches over your own body, over the curve of your belly, and sinking your fingers past your panties where the only remnants of Frankie is you muttering his name at the peak of your orgasm, wishing it was him showering you with his affections rather than your fingers or toys. 

God forbid you enjoy solo sessions anymore because Frankie has totally ruined that for you. It wasn’t as fun knowing you had a brown-eyed, curly-headed man across town who would beg on his knees given the chance. 

Anyway. Enough of that. 

You count the till’s cash, level out the profit, and put it all in a small bank bag before your manager, Carla, tucks it inside the safe. The metal keys on your carabiner clip jingle upon flipping the lock, the cool night air tickling your skin as late spring shows its face under the velvet night sky. 

A truck rumbles up the drive, and you know the signature death rattle all too well. 

“What are you doin’ here?” You lean against the driver's side of Frankie’s truck once he pulls up to you, your sneakers shifting gravel, his mouth tilted in a smirk. He leans past the truck’s frame and kisses you, cradling the back of your head to keep you against him. 

“Mmm,” he hums against your mouth, tasting cherry chapstick as he glides his tongue across your lower lip. “Get in. Benny’s having a house party.”

Eyes narrowing, you run your thumb up his beard scruff and gently scrape your nails down the dark hair. “I need to go home to change. Plus, I need a shower. I smell like grease, and I have grime under my nails.” 

“Fine, I’ll take you back to your place. I can wait.” 

A breath stalls in your lungs, eyes unblinking as you stare at him for a moment. 

Frankie has yet to visit your place — your dungeon, a basement-level one-bedroom apartment made up by a measly excuse of a kitchen and a tiny living space. You’re by no means embarrassed of its appearance. You’re rather clean, and you’ve made it as homely as you possibly can with bright-colored rugs and wall art. But it was sort of your final boundary. He was literally about to pass the threshold. Master the final boss. 

He’s let you have your space and never pushed you. The least you could do was say,

“Okay.” 

A contagious grin catches his lips, pulling you closer by the hand still cradling the back of your head, and he takes you in for a few more slow kisses. 

A car’s honk and bright lights jolt your heart, and your eyes squint until the flashers go down on the car Frankie has parked in.

“Can you two lovebirds hurry it up?” your manager, Carla, yells from the driver's seat of her rust-red 2006 Honda Civic. “You’re blockin’ me in, Francisco.”

You purse your lips with embarrassment, heat flushing the back of your neck. Carla was going to find out one way or another that you two have been sneaking around. She knows everything about everyone. 

“Hey, sorry, mama,” Frankie nods as she shakes her head slowly, mouth tainted with a smirk. 

“I’ll follow you back to your place,” Frankie whispers and you nod shyly, wrapping around the front of his truck and letting him tail you home. 

Frankie takes two steps at a time down to your basement-level apartment. His boots thump against the cold stone, and you push the front door open with the force of your shoulder. 

His eyes drag along the different pieces of the apartment that make you, you. Soft blankets that drape along the back of a loveseat accompanied by little, fluffy pillows, different pairs of sneakers sit stacked beside the front door, and a small table for two holds random clutter in the criminally tiny dining room. 

He follows your lead and kicks off his shoes, watching you unfold into your natural routine: you drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and your fingers are already tugging a black hair tie loose. He trails you down a narrow hallway, squinting as you turn on the harsh overhead lighting to the bathroom. 

Out of your clothes without a second thought, Frankie can’t help but laugh at the way you fling your bra past his head, tunneling down the hallway and landing in what he presumes is your bedroom. The shower curtain is something abstract, most likely purchased from the Target down the road. 

“I’ll be quick if you wanna wait outside,” you offer, body shielded by the curtain. 

Frankie shrugs, eyes glancing to the toilet opposite the shower.

“I don’t mind waitin’. Wanna tell me about your day?” Frankie asks, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid. He sees you fight away a timid smile and slink behind the shower curtain. The beads of water hit your body and change the tune inside the bathroom. He can tell each time you shift and twirl. It takes you a moment to become acquainted, but you retell the details of your day in a sweet lull. 

“I, uh, I usually listen to music when I shower,” you admit between the spray. 

“Oh, so you want me to start singin’?” Frankie asks with a smirk, to which you quickly shout no! 

It doesn’t stop him from breaking into a pitchy rendition of a song by the Bee Gees. 

After a fit of laughter, you both settle down, and Frankie is back to smiling at the sheer, cheaply-made shower curtain. He can see your silhouette dance under the shower head, gathering your hair and rising out the suds, grabbing a loofa to scrub away the worst of the grime from Tommy’s Diner. 

Holy shit, Frankie thinks, you smell like heaven. Oh my god, he likes you. It hits him like a bullet to the chest, the impact rippling through his veins and making his heart beat so loud that it rings in his ears. It’s a silent reminder that feeling things are beautiful when they are about you. 

The bathroom grows steamy, fogging up the glass of your medicine cabinet mirror. His skin grows clammy and his knee starts to jump in anticipation. 

“I’m almost done!” Your voice sing-songs as he slips off his jacket, his eyes still cast upon your body beyond the curtain. He’s in love with the way your body moves, fluidly and without intention. You’re just taking a shower and he thinks you’re beautiful. 

Just as you’re about to flip the water off, the curtain rings screech to open. 

“Frankie,” you breathe, eyes falling to his exposed tan skin. No other words come to mind other than another breath of his name. 

His lips attach to your neck, slow but faltering. Like he’s searching for the one spot to push you over the edge and join him in oblivion. 

The tension in the air rises as the water cascades down his back and soaks his dark curls. His frame, large and broad, protects yours as his arms circle your waist like wild vines.

Your eyes slowly fall closed, lips parted as your head eventually tilts back and rests against the shower wall. It exposes more area for Frankie to explore, his palms kneading at your lower back, arching your torso into his own. 

His teeth skim along your skin, the steam already forcing your flesh to glow and rise under the growing pressure of his hunger for you. 

He begins to navigate a new path, his lips finding purchase above your breastbone. Your fingers start at his biceps, feeling the strong muscles protruding underneath. He’s so unbearably handsome, and you can’t believe his body is fitting in the small shower stall with you. 

Finally, a heavy breath slips, something that resembles a moan. After that, he’s starving for you. 

The teeth that were once just grazing your skin, now nipping and sucking. His hands fall lower down the curve of your ass, squeezing and lifting as you gasp into his ear. You're dripping with arousal that sits achingly between your legs. 

You place a slender hand over his more muscular one, guiding it between your legs and gently cupping your mound. 

“Please,” you whisper, like the only thing Frankie needs to hear. 

He paints your mouth in a wet kiss, drowning any better judgment that may have resided. 

Intertwining your feelings together, the steam buckles heatedly in the small space. 

His fingers curl in your hold, swiping between your folds and feeling you. There’s a whimper let out against his ear, nipping at his lower lip once his fingers push past your threshold. 

And he groans. 

You’re so fucking tight, so fucking perfect for him. His forehead lays against your temple, your nose brushing against the coarse hair of his beard. Frankie sinks his fingers into you, knuckle-deep, and leaves you squirming under his hold. His fingers are so thick, it’s a bittersweet symphony the way your moans mingle in the air.

He’s got you cornered in the shower, body pressed against the hot mold. Two fingers move fluidly inside, stretching your core and stoking the burning embers that rest low in your stomach. 

“There,” you breathe, gasping as he adds more pressure to one spot that makes your legs nearly collapse out from under you. He still has you locked with an arm around your waist, holding what’s left of your presence. 

He’s skilled, his thumb finding your clit, and you want to scream at the way his fingers are long enough to fuck into you and massage your aching pearl at the same time. He’s the only one who can make you unfold like this.  

“Christ,” he mutters into your ear as he feels your walls desperately clench around him. “You can take another, can’t ya, baby?” 

His brown eyes melt you, waiting for your confirmation. You sigh weakly but ultimately nod. It’s all you can think about. 

He groans as he works a third into your entrance, and it burns, the way your pleasure mixes with the pain. 

You wrap an arm weakly around the tops of his shoulders, nails etching into his skin in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself able in his arms. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” you whine, long and bratty almost. You’re so close already, he knows just how to get you to the brink. 

You tingle at his touch, your muscles going numb as he fucks his fingers at a now unrelenting pace within your tight core. 

He works you to the edge, feeling the tick of the timebomb slowly begin to set off inside you. 

With all the energy you have left, you swing your leg up and hitch it on his hip. 

He looks bewildered for a moment, shocked eyes meeting your own as you rest your shoulder blades back against the shower wall with enough room to move your hips. You begin rolling your core down onto his fingers and he makes a noise resembling praise. 

Yeah baby, keep fuckin’ my fingers.

“Do it again,” he mutters. 

You moan louder as you gyrate your hips once more against his fingers, grinding your core against his knuckles. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers with adoration. 

He watches your body with fascination, Frankie’s eyes obsessively taking in your movements. His lips are quick to bow down at your alter, lips latching onto your exposed nipples that perk up in his mouth with all the attention. It makes a tingle shoot down your spine, only making your hips move faster as you fuck yourself down onto his fingers. 

Frankie kisses down your body until he’s sunk down onto his knees, damn near growling as your hips grind against his awaiting mouth. He latches his lips to your clit and harshly suckles, causing a high-pitched whimper to leave your mouth. 

You’re so close and he knows it, he can feel your thighs trembling under the heat of his palms. It’s the only thing holding you up at this point. Weaving your fingers into his watered-down locks, you grip them tight and keep Frankie close. 

He chuckles lowly, eyes flicking up to yours and seeing the desperate look cast over them. 

“You wanna come?”

Like he even has to ask. 

“Please,” you say, desperation leaking from your voice as you feverishly nod. 

Frankie tsks playfully, humming lowly against your clit. “Love when you beg for it, sweetheart.” 

Frankie circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, making out with your pussy and lapping away at your sweet juices. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing his fingers to move with more precision. 

You can feel your muscles contort as he starts to massage your spongy sweet spot. It’s enough to make your jaw drop and heat to spill down your spine. Your fingers clench his curls tighter between your fingers, holding him against you as your orgasm finally breaches. 

The leg hooked onto his shoulder shakes with each uneasy wave of your orgasm. The shower’s heat leaves you breathless, crying out in pleasure as your body shudders. 

Frankie smirks as he slowly loosens his fingers from your entrance, taking each finger into his mouth, one, two, three. His tongue swirls around each digit before he inches your leg back to down to the shower floor, planting your feet on solid ground before he stands and twists the shower’s handle. 

It only takes a few seconds, but the high of your orgasm and the heat of the shower makes you lose your sense of self. Your legs tremble and your hands feverishly grip Frankie. 

The ringing in your ears slowly fades away as he snaps the handle on the shower, letting the room calm into gentle silence. 

“Hey, hey,” he whispers as he wraps you in his arms, feeling weightless as he talks you down. “Wow,” he breathes, “never had a woman faint from how good-”

“Stop,” you laugh breathlessly, peaking your eyes open, and seeing the glittering haze of the handsome man in front of you. Water droplets run down his face, cascading down his neck and gliding horizontally across his shoulders. 

“I like hearing you talk about your day.”

Innocent eyes meet his own and you nod. “Okay.”

Frankie wasn’t joking when he said his friends threw a house party. They threw a goddamn party. 

After winding down a long gravel road about thirty minutes out of town, you arrive at a two-story classic country home. It’s surrounded by acres and acres of green grass and tall trees in the distance. The most action this house has seen in years is most likely deer or coyotes. 

And now it was seeing the house party of a lifetime. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out in disbelief once he parks his truck in the grass and kills the engine. “Whose house is this?”

His mouth tilts in a smirk as he peers forward up at the house, not sure if he’s staring at the long string lights that reach from one side of the home to the other, or the drunkards climbing onto the roof. 

“Will and Benny’s, after their grandfather passed away. Pretty sweet, huh?” 

The crunch of a beer can under your shoe is the first thing you hear, other guests quick to park their vehicles and rush inside with cases of beer on their shoulders. The echoes of the partying inside could be heard from the dirt driveway, Frankie wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he escorts you in. 

A chorus of people bump against your shoulder as they step outside, laughing hard and obviously tipsy. 

“What is this place?” You mutter in slight amazement and curiosity. 

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” Frankie whispers against your ear, making a tingle slip down your spine as you playfully nudge your elbow somewhere between his ribs.

He walks you through the living room, easily the most filled room in the house by the looks of it. All the furniture has been pushed aside and a band resides at the forefront of all the chaos. The lead singer and guitarists stand on the sitting area of the recessed mantle. The cheering rings in your ears and the bass thumps through the floorboards, electrifying everyone’s bodies to move and dance. 

Off the dining room is the kitchen. You can’t really tell how modern or outdated it is due to the sea of people making drinks. Frankie reaches through the hoard and retrieves two beers, popping the top off yours and slipping the cold bottle into your hand. 

“Thanks,” you mutter as you clink your bottle with his. 

Aside from the noisiest parts of the house, there were chill places where people were talking and sharing ideas or the latest things that were happening in their lives. You try not to laugh as a woman swaying in a hammock accidentally falls out, landing with a thud. Thankfully, her friends in the bean bags below caught her with bellows of glee. 

“Best part,” Frankie whispers to you as he opens the door to a nearly pitch-black room, only lit by two lanterns at the very front of the mostly wood study. People are sat on the floor, whispering and shushing each other as you and Frankie fill in quietly towards the back.

“And now, may I present to you, Santi, the Significant!”

Your eyebrows furrow as Santiago steps in front of a white flashlight’s spot, bowing ridiculously as everyone laughs. 

“Santi the Significant?” You whisper as Frankie chuckles quietly and nuzzles his nose against your temple. 

“He thought Magnificent wasn’t spectacular enough, or kitschy.”

“He performs real magic? Isn’t that kind of…” At the risk of offending one of his best friends, he fills in the blank for you.  

“Nerdy?” Frankie snidely smirks and shakes his head. “Works better than you think. Watch.”

You're skeptical about the magic act, but you can't help but be impressed as the confident Santi pulls roses from his jacket sleeve and hands them to the most eligible ladies in the audience, eliciting gasps and enthusiastic applause.

“No way,” you shake your head as Santi continues a few close-up magic tricks, enough to keep his drunk audience convinced. After a few more card tricks and cheesy jokes, the crowd applauds and whistles.

“That’s all from me today, folks. If you want my number, please see me after the show.”

“Dear god,” you mutter, hiding your face in Frankie’s shoulder. “How is this working?” You ask as a group of young women circle Santi with praise and lusty eyes. “Should I go ask for his number? I was pretty wooed back there.”

Frankie tuts as he ushers you out of the study. “Absolutely not.”

The entire night thrives on high energy with a constant flow of surprises. The decor of pink plastic flamingos and a surprise disco ball is making this everyone’s night one to remember - as long as the guests don’t drink too much. 

You’ve let Frankie go to mingle with his friends while you keep an intoxicated Benny at bay sitting at the top step of the staircase that looks over most of the party. 

“Quite the bash, Benny.”

“Thank you, m’lady. You’re enjoying yourself?” He slurs and sways, even while sitting. 

“I didn’t even know this many people our age live around here.” Your head rests against old yellow wallpaper, the design mostly faded and lightly curling at the floorboards. Your finger plays with the exposed edge, fighting the urge to tear it off or keep peeling it. 

He hums and throws an empty beer bottle behind his shoulder, hearing it clatter against the wall. “The best distraction for someone like me is people. I like people. And everyone needs a good distraction.”

You narrow your eyes on Benny curiously, the disco ball flashing along the bedazzled beads hanging around his neck. “Distraction from what?”

Benny seems like a very happy person, but it’s moments like these that reveal one's vulnerability. He slowly shakes his head with a very telling smile, gently squeezing your shoulder as he sighs. “It’s okay,” he slurs, “it’s why our friend group gets along so well because we all need distractions.”

He speaks so knowingly, almost like a prophet speaking in riddles, so you decide to amuse him. 

“Yeah? What about Frankie? He needs distractions too?”

Benny hums and points at Frankie down below. You peer through the wooden balusters, seeing Frankie mix and mingle with a drink in one hand and a lit joint in the other. He takes a hit and sputters up a cough as he laughs at what his group is saying, making you smile. 

“Frankie… is a very special case. He’s uh,” Benny’s eyes droop, his head resting on your shoulder as he closes his eyes and relaxes with your presence. 

“He’s what?” You whisper, reassuringly running a hand up and down his back. 

Benny lets out another sigh, breath reeking of alcohol. “You’re a good distraction for him. ‘Nd I don’t mean a distraction like a bad thing. You’re… You’re very good for him. He’s had a hard life and y’know, I’m sure he’s told you. But now he’s happy again.” 

Your heart hammers in your chest and you’re afraid Benny might be able to hear it. The large grandfather clock standing by the front door chimes, and you can’t read the time from this distance, but by the multiple rings, it must be midnight. 

And before you can stop him from spilling, Benny shares maybe more than he should. 

“Y’know with his dad. His whole family, really. His mom has capybara… no, not capybara syndrome.” Benny pauses to laugh before finishing. 

“Capgras syndrome? She just wasn’t all there when he was growing up and she didn’t get the help she needed until later in… in life. Frankie was just a kid and all of his siblings were, y’know, younger than him. Plus his dad wasn’t around to help her, drunk asshole that he was probably wouldn’t have been much help anyway.”

You stare straight ahead, watching your happy goofball down below with a new view.

“So his mom was there but not really there. He hasn’t seen his dad in years, but now, he’s back around and sent Frankie a letter or some shit. I don’t know what about. But everything has just sort of sucked for him for a long time.” Benny scoffs and lays his forehead against your shoulder, muttering now. “Especially that damn letter. ‘Nd his damn dad. But you know about all of this already.”

No, you didn’t. You’re stunned into a soft silence, the hand on Benny’s back slowly falling. 

“This party and you, good distractions. But Frankie told me he started having nightmares again.”

Suddenly very awake and alert, Benny sits up straight and looks you in your eyes. “Don’t let him drink too much tonight, okay? He’ll start spiraling if he thinks about this shit too much. Keep… keep being a good distraction.”

Benny pauses and clenches his stomach, his face turning a little pale. “Fuck,” He mutters as he quickly shifts onto his knees and crawls up the opposite side of the staircase, pushing himself to his feet and rushing towards the bathroom.  

The buzz of the party slowly fades, like the sound of snow falling outside. It’s a silence that isn’t silence at all. Everything falls into slow motion, the confetti falling and the disco ball gleaming all halting mid-air. 

You weren’t supposed to know this much, or Frankie would have told you if he wanted to. But now as you stare down the staircase to Frankie, seeing him throw his head back in laughter, it’s hard to imagine someone like him had a past like that. 

Benny was drunk. Maybe he was mixing Frankie up with someone else? You didn’t know why, but instead of your usual instinct to flee, one of protection starts to come over you. 

“Hey,” Frankie breathes out with a big smile, his eyes glazed over and a little red from smoking as he watches you step down the staircase. 

“Hey,” you say with little to no masking of your emotions. 

He tilts his head adorably and rests his hand on your hip, pulling you in closer to him. “You alright?”

After nodding quickly with wide eyes, you know it’s more important for Frankie to believe nothing is wrong. 

“Yeah! Yeah, all good. Do you think we could head out soon? I’m getting pretty tired, worked a double and all.”

Frankie smiles and pulls his truck keys out of his dark blue jeans, doing the responsible thing and putting them into your very capable hands. “If you’re tired, I’m tired. Let’s go.” 

He’s cross-faded for sure. At one point on the drive home, Frankie hung his head out of the passenger-side window and stared at the stars, giggling, as the wind whipped his face. But he never let go of your hand. 

 The exhaustion from the night seems to hit you both once you return to the comfort of his apartment, a small orange fluffball hopping off the couch to run his body against your lower calf. 

“Hi, Leo,” Frankie whispers, squatting down to gently scratch the cat’s chubby cheeks. 

After stripping your clothes and turning on his television in the bedroom, the lull of a sitcom settles him into slumber. You lay with Frankie in bed, his arms slung low around your waist and his head nuzzled into your chest. He snores quietly as Leo curls up between you two. 

Sleep seems to escape you, because every time you close your eyes, you picture a young Frankie with a tortured past. A shit father, a not all there mother. How was he so seemingly pieced together as an adult? 

With one hand gently stroking his hair and massaging his scalp, you use the other to search capgras syndrome on your phone. 

The National Institutes of Health describes it as, the most prevalent delusional misidentification syndrome and is characterized as a delusion of doubles. Patients falsely believe that an identical person has replaced a person close to him or her… CS symptoms may result in intrapersonal and interpersonal conflicts, along with poor social relationships. An individual with this kind of disorder is prone to self-harm and violence. There are also implications for the patient's family, as the stress on the caregiver and stigma-related stressors could further compound the issue.

Clicking the lock on your phone as fast as you can, you shakily sigh and wrap your arms tighter around Frankie. 

It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard of and Frankie was at the center of it all. It felt like your stomach bottomed out thinking of what he had seen. 

Was his mother ever violent with him? Or to herself? 

And this letter from his father that Benny mentioned, what did it say? 

You manage to exhaust yourself to sleep, but it doesn’t last long. 

Frankie sweats bullets, his body rustling against the bedsheets that now make him feel confined. His heart hammers against his chest and pounds in his ears. 

These dreams would be just dreams if they were happy, but there’s nothing happy about what he sees. 

On a stormy night, his mother cries. The sobs fill the house, his younger sister fears it’s a ghost by the shaky howling that sways down the hallways to their bedrooms. 

“It’s okay,” his uncertain voice reverbs as he fluffs her light pink princess pillow and tucks a lilac quilt over her small body. He smiles convincingly and closes the doors to his closet. 

He walks alone down the dark hallway, his eyes anxiously peering from left to right. He spies his father downstairs drinking alone at the dining room table. The glass bottle shimmers as lightning strikes outside. 

Is he passed out or impossibly still? 

His mother lets out another wail. 

“Goddammit,” his father curses to himself, shaking his head and finding a coat from the closet before slipping outside and into the rain. 

It’s okay, Frankie thinks, because it’s easier to take care of her when he’s not around to intervene.

With a breath of relief, little ten-year-old Frankie walks downstairs and gets a glass of water. He’s so scared, his hands won’t stop shaking. No matter how much he tries to fill his lungs with air, the shaking doesn’t stop. Dribbles of water slide down his hand and wrap around the outside of his tiny wrist. 

He follows the cries with hesitant steps, lightly pushing open the door to his mother’s bedroom. 

“Mom?” He asks into the dark, his voice soft and squeaky.

“No! No, get out!” Her cries have turned to yelling, scrabbling up to the top of the bed and flushing her back against the bed frame. 

“It’s me, mom, Frankie,” he whispers, slowly walking forward with an arm extended with the water. 

She lets out another wail and shakes her head, causing Frankie to lurch back. He thinks the lightning strikes and the thunder booming outside is scaring her, and all he wants to do is soothe her panic. 

“D-do you want some water?” He asks as she sniffs, her wide and unblinking eyes enough to keep him awake at night. 

In a wake of reality, she wipes her face and whimpers. “Is that really you, Francisco?”

His bottom lip trembles as he nods feverishly. “Yeah mommy, it’s me.” Can’t you see it’s me?

She slowly lowers the covers that she had previously clutched to her chest, nodding slowly. But then she freezes again, horrified, unconvinced. 

“I-It’s not you.” She says with uncertainty, shuddering at another clap of thunder. 

“Momma,” he whispers as he moves closer, reaching out and touching her arm as he stands at her bedside. “Drink some water, momma.”

He offers the glass, her eyes shifting from Frankie to the glass and back. 

“No-no! Your smile is bigger! That’s not my Frankie, his smile is bigger! Stay away from me!” She yelps, harshly smacking the glass of water out of his hands. Frankie jumps but can’t pull away, the grip of her hand wrapping around his wrist burns. 

“You need to stay away from me, you hear me? Stay away from my family!” 

Frankie tries to pull away, his own tears sprinkling along his eyes as he yanks yanks yanks and finally he’s free, running out of her room as adrenaline pumps through his little body. He quickly closes her door on the way out, sobbing erratically as he runs to the safety of the staircase, black funneling around his imagery. 

Frankie’s eyes pop open, feeling the tight hold of your arms like the one of his mother. He shoots up and pushes your arms off, seeing your sleepy eyes tiredly open. 

“Frankie?” You whisper, soft eyes meeting his own.

Fear still possesses him, it was overwhelming like a heavy weight sitting on his chest. It was all-encompassing, his manifestations of terror and panic being linked to the feeling of being chased by something from his past.  

“It’s me, it’s me!” He shouts, his throat feeling like something was clawing at it. 

You nod your head and reach out for his arm to which he instinctively rips away from you. 

“It’s me!” He shouts again, causing Leo to scurry off the bed. His stomach felt uneasy, dread pounding a dent into his head. 

“I know it’s you, I know it’s you, Frankie,” you breathe out, pushing yourself up fully as you take his hand and reassuringly squeeze.

He swallows down an impossibly large lump in his throat, catching his breath seems impossible. He couldn’t escape it, overwhelming helplessness nesting itself deep inside. It’s always the same nightmare or similar variants from his childhood. He used to think that he had blocked them out, shoved them away to a teeny tiny part inside him, locked away inside a vault. But recently, they’ve been coming back in swarms. 

The reality that his nightmare is over suddenly hits him and his back slumps weakly. Like a human no longer possessed, his physical existence slowly turning from mush back to something concrete. Suddenly, a sense of relief washes over him. It wasn’t real, he was safe, he was with you. 

“Frankie, you’re crying,” you whisper, slowly moving your hand up to wipe away the streams on his cheeks. 

Frankie’s shaky hand holds yours, tight, and brings it to his heart, letting you feel the impossibly strong beat. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, putting his head in his hands, “I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry,” he quickly shakes his head, feeling his body subtly relax from the strong heat that was tingling from his head to his toes. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe now, it was just a bad dream.”

He knows now and he nods, but he still feels lost between his past and his present. 

He shouldn’t have drank as much as he did, and he certainly shouldn’t have smoked. He knows that now, but he was hoping it would help him sleep, keep him at bay until you were gone in the morning. But now you were here and he felt so exposed, his open wounds now out and in the open. 

Please don’t run. 

“I’m sorry,” he says on repeat as you slowly run a hand up and down his back, his body leaning into yours and nodding; he needed this, he needed you. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you whisper, “can I hold you?” You ask so sweetly, your voice dripping in kindness lined with concern. 

He’s already nodding as you gently wrap your arms around his broad torso. He puts his arms over yours and sighs weakly, his fingers interlocking with yours. 

Comforting energy exudes from you, the thing he desperately needs the most right now. Your soothing voice is nothing like his mother’s anguished cries, breaking him into reality with the honey drip of your sweet whispers. 

“A nightmare?”

Frankie nods and closes his eyes, wiping the stray tears that still fall down his cheeks. 

“I never wanted you to see me like this,” he tries to laugh, but it just comes out wrecked and thick from crying. 

Why was he crying? Why couldn’t he stop crying?

Your chin rests on the dip of his shoulder and he can feel your slow breaths against his back. He aligns his wrecked breaths with your calm ones, your bodies slowly becoming in sync.  

He’s so tired. He wants to close his eyes, but every time he does, he sees the flashes of lightning outside his mothers window and hears her untrusting words. 

It’s not you!

You sit together like this for fifteen minutes and he’s becoming grounded again. He strokes the blankets and relaxes the clutching hold he has on your hand. 

“I’m gonna get a cold washcloth, you’re burning up.” You whisper. He doesn’t want you to go, but he knows it will help - something his mother never understood. Help was good. 

“Leo wants to sit with you,” you whisper as you round the bed, Leo already leaping up onto the bed and circling himself between Frankie’s parted legs. 

“Sorry buddy,” he whispers, his voice raw and still shaky, but no longer feeling like he was choking on the air his body was desperately craving. 

With hazy eyes, he watches your body move in his bathroom, the light making his eyes squint. Your soft legs tucked under his large t-shirt was a sight. He was definitely here again, in the present. 

Benny had warned you, but nothing could have prepared you for that. But again, your usual feeling to run wasn’t here, because Frankie really fucking needed you right now. Your own concerns about this relationship were pushed aside. He needed comfort and reassurance, love where there wasn’t any before. 

You soak a washcloth in cold water until your fingers turn numb under the streaming faucet. Squishing out the excess, you return to his bedside and gently dab at his neck. His honey-amber eyes have never looked so dark and lifeless. 

He blinks slowly, he must be so tired. Frankie rests his hand on your upper thigh, fingers sinking into your plush flesh. He’s trying to ground himself, you think. A reminder that this was real. 

“It must have been really scary,” you whisper as you bring the washcloth up to his rosy cheeks, then to his temple and across his forehead. “Does this feel good?”

He nods and squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “Really good.”

“Okay, baby.” You whisper, running the washcloth slowly down both of his arms. The cooling sensation should help him fully awaken. You rest the washcloth on the back of his neck and rest your hand on his now cool cheek. 

His words ring through your ears, begging to be heard that he was real, that it was him. It was a dream about his mom, it had to be. 

He lets out a breath of relief, smiling weakly. “You must think I’m insane.”

He grapples to find the right words, and you think it’s best to come clean. 

“Benny told me,” you whisper, seeing his eyes harden at your truth. “About your mom, Frankie. Is that… is that what your dream was about?”

He sits impossibly still, but something in his gut must condemn him to tell you the truth. “Yeah, it was.”

You nod and run your fingers delicately across his cheek, giving him a reassuring smile. “You can tell me what you want when you’re ready. But it doesn’t scare me off, and I don’t think you’re insane.” 

An exhausted breath of relief mingles between you both and he agrees. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

“My dad, he sent me a letter and the nightmares started again,” Frankie whispers, brokenheartedness laced in his words. 

You press a gentle kiss to his lips, one of understanding. 

“I wanna read it to you in the morning.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, nod, and kiss him again.

After making Frankie a sleepytime tea in his favorite mug, he settles back into bed. He was so vulnerable tonight when he really had no other choice. He falls asleep with his ear to your heart, and his arms wrapped loosely around your hips. 

You stay awake and watch the television for as long as you can, hoping the comforting vibes of a sitcom will calm your racing heart. Gentle fingers draw shapes over Frankie’s back and you share a look with his cat. One that said you were both in this together. As the sun slowly slips across the horizon, your eyes finally close knowing this night of terrors is over. 

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog

[madyoghurt]

soooo what about fic where hobie using y/n's moans for a song and they find out like when the song drop and they're like shocked as hell because lets be honest here he would sooo do that

"I HAVE SOMETHIN' TO SHOW YOU!" Hobie shouts from the doorway, making you drop the spoon that you were using to shove your face full of icecream a minute ago.

"Jesus christ, Hobes." You sigh, picking the spoon up off the floor. "What is it?"

He bites his lip. "Just come on!" He saids before turning around and walking out. You shrug and follow him, he leads you to the recording studio and you already think you have an idea. "You finish another song?" You ask.

"Yeah, but theres a suprise innit.." he saids before walking over to his setup. "Jus' have a listen, yeah?" You fold your arms over your chest, walking over and slumping down on an old bean bag. Hobie takes this as his cue to press play, punk music blaring through the speakers, its a good 1:30 minute song, very few lyrics, yet still getting the point across. You nod along, still not sure what to expect.

Its gets sorta quieter as a guitar riff takes lead, but its not too overpowering, making room for.. what the hell was that?

You double take, leaning foward to make sure you're not hearing things. There it is again, a desparate mewl rings through the speakers, followed by heavy pants and moans that seem to have a rythmn. Your mouth hangs open at the realization.

~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~

You're on your elbows and knees, hair swaying back and forth as Hobie fucks you from behind, nearly making you cry with how good it feels. He leans over and grabs a tape recorder from the nightstand. "You sound so beautiful, imma make a single outta this.." He pants, pressing record and placing it down infront of you. Too delirious to question Hobie, you keep gasping and whining as he fucks you from a new angle, hitting your g-spot just right.

~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~♥︎~★~

You connect the dots, standing up and walking over to him. "IS THAT ME!?" you ask, too shocked to even be mad. Hobie cant help but bite back a giggle, leaning against the desk with a hand on his hip. "What'd'ya fink?" He asks, staring at you with a shit-eating grin.

"I-" your mouth opens, but you're not even sure what to say, you dont know what to 'fink'. "Denfinetly.. creative, uhm.. I think you're insane." You say bluntly, Hobies bubbling laughter making your lips quirk up just a teeensy bit.

Wasnt sure how to finish this 😭 hope its still something

[number1mingyustan]

Keep On ✹ ☾

toxicboyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, established relationship, mentions of cheating, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, toxic relationships, smoking, crying

Summary: Every time I come crawling on my knees, you're there and you just keep on taking me back

Word Count: 2.9k

_______________________________________________

song: keep on– kehlani

“This shit’s exhausting, Gyu,” You sigh, taking a long drag of the cigarette wedged between your pointer and middle finger.

You exhale, watching the smoke blow from your lips and into the crisp night air. Your cheeks are stained with tears, uncomfortably drying against the cool night air.

Mingyu hates it when you smoke. Always says something about how it’s bad for you and advises you against it. You don’t do it often though, only when you’re stressed or upset.

Right now your back is pressed against the side of Mingyu’s silver BMW. You sniffle, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke.

Mingyu stands next to you, leaned against the car with his head tilted back. He stares up at the stars illuminating the night sky instead of staring at you. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t know what you want me to do Y/n,” He crosses his arms. “I already apologized.”

You let out a scoff and inhale from the cigarette once again.

___

About twenty minutes ago, things were going fine between the two of you. You were sitting in the passenger seat of the car and Mingyu was driving. The two of you were at a party earlier in the night and decided to go home.

You’d been drinking a bit, not enough to be extremely drunk, but enough for Mingyu to decide it was time to go home. You were driving with the windows down and decided to connect to the car AUX.

When you went to unplug Mingyu’s phone you saw a text message from a new number and everything fell apart.

hey it’s yena from the party :)) wanted to make sure i got the right number lol

You didn’t hesitate to confront him about it while he was driving. You asked him who she was and why she was texting him. He got defensive immediately, questioning you and why you were on his phone in the first place.

You didn’t back down, continuing to pester him and grow upset about the text message. You grew more frustrated with his unwillingness to be honest with you and completely lost your calm.

Next thing you knew, you were screaming at him with tears in your eyes while he was trying to calm you down. His attempts weren’t effective and having you scream at him was quite distracting on the road.

Instead of driving straight home, he made a detour to the parking lot next to the trail nearby. It was dark out and no one was around.

He parked the car in a rush, barely making it in between the painted white lines. You were still screaming at him and sobbing frantically.

You climbed out of the car, leaning against it and lighting your cigarette. He was quick to follow after, joining you on the side of the car, where you stand now.

___

“Your apologies don’t mean shit,” You blow out the smoke.

He turns his head in your direction. You look away, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighs and cracks his knuckles.

“I’m not trying to hurt you baby, you know that.”

“I don’t actually.” You’re quick to respond.

“You do. C’mon, you know that I love you.”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated.” You sniffle.

“I didn’t cheat.” He says firmly.

“Gyu-“

“I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t fuck her, I never laid a finger on her. She and I talked for a few minutes and she wanted my number. I didn’t cheat on you. I may have fucked up, but I’m not a cheater and you know that.”

“You still gave her your number! You didn’t think to tell her you had a girlfriend or tell her no! Regardless of who initiated it, you didn’t turn her down. You fucking entertained the flirting and I wouldn’t be surprised if you flirted back. Chances are pretty high that you did considering the way you came back and immediately dragged me off.” You scoff. “Shitty excuse saying I was too drunk when the problem was you. You obviously just didn’t want me to find out. You always do this shit, Gyu.” You inhale from the cigarette once again and blow out.

“You know I’d never cheat on you Y/n. I don’t take those accusations lightly. You know that I love you and I’d never do that shit to you. I cant help it if some girl approaches me, I stay loyal to you.”

Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with a situation like this with Mingyu.

You’re Mingyu’s first real relationship. Before you it had been meaningless flings and very short term commitments for him.

You and Mingyu started very casual, but grew into a serious relationship over time. Something about you was different and he found himself wanting commitment. He hated the idea of you being with another guy and your relationship blossomed.

But with a guy like Mingyu, it’s only natural to catch the attention of other women. He’s tall and attractive and knows all the right things to say and do. He knows his way into a woman’s heart, and into her bed.

It’s not uncommon for women to flirt with him when you go out, but the way he responds to it is what bothers you.

He can’t seem to fully let go of his old habits.

When you started dating, you made it clear to him what you wanted and what your commitment to one another would entail. He agreed, assuring you that you were what he wanted an all he wanted.

But three years later you still find yourself having to come back to this conversation.

However, the fact still remains. Despite this being a reoccurring issue, he’s never allowed things to get physical with another woman, at least to your knowledge.

He simply likes to flirt because he enjoys the attention. He’s always loved the attention, but you’ve always hated it.

“You’re not loyal to me though. You go around flirting with other bitches and don’t listen to a word I say. It’s been three years and I still can’t get actual commitment from you.”

“Baby you know we’re locked in.” He defends.

“I don’t know that, actually . And I cant keep having this conversation with you. It’s been three fucking years and I don’t know how many more times or more ways I can tell you this shit. I’m exhausted.”

“So what? You wanna break up because some girl flirted with me at a party?”

“Fuck’s sake,” You drop the rest of your cigarette on the dirt and step on it to put it out. “You know it’s not that simple. I’ve said it a thousand times, I’m not doing it again.”

You turn around, reaching for the passenger side of the handle. “Take me home.”

You pull at it, letting out a frustrated sigh and you notice he’s locked the car. He comes up behind you, playing his hands ever so lightly on your waist. “Don’t be mad at me, you know how much I hate it when you’re upset with me.”

“I hate it when you do shit that upsets me.”

He licks his lips softly, leaning in closer to you. He presses his chest against your back and wraps his arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I’m gonna do better for you baby, promise. I love you.”

You hate that he’s telling you everything you want to hear. You hate that there’s so much sincerity in his voice and you already feel yourself giving in. You hate that you let this stuff slide with him and give in easily. You hate that he makes you so weak.

It’s quite sad really, especially knowing that if things were the other way around it would be completely different. Mingyu has always been possessive over you and gotten jealous easily.

You’ve never entertained other guys the way he did, and you had no problem rejecting them. But it still pissed Mingyu off. Seeing a guy approach you or stare at you a little too hard had his blood boiling.

It didn’t matter if you rejected them, Mingyu still had a sour taste in his mouth at the mere though of you with another guy.

For now, you’ll blame letting your guard down on the alcohol. You know you’d do it sober, but it’s not a fact you have an easy time accepting, at least in the moment.

He turns you around so you’re facing him and your back is pressed against the car again. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead.

“I don’t like hurting you… I’m sorry. You’re the only one for me, my girl. Don’t need anyone else, I’m gonna be better for you.” He kisses your cheek. “You’re all I want.”

“You’re lying,” You sniffle, turning away from him. “You’re just saying that. You don’t really mean it, you don’t love me.”

He cups your cheek, turning your head and forcing you to face him. Your eyes meet and and he stares down at you with soft eyes. A small smile appears on his face.

He knows you’re giving in.

“Baby… would I be here apologizing to you and eating your pussy if I didn’t love you? You know I mean it.”

“You’re not eating my pussy.”

“Not yet I’m not.”

He flashes you that million dollar smile and you feel yourself fold completely. Your face feels hot despite the cool night air filling the atmosphere.

You feel pathetic for letting him win so easily again. But you can’t help it, not when it comes to Mingyu.

He needs no invitation to lean down and kiss you. When he does, you’re kissing him back immediately with no protest.

His hands move from your waist to your inner thighs, traveling up the skirt you have on. He leans in closer, pressing his body firmly against yours

He plays with the hem of your panties before pulling them off and dropping to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you with lust clouding his eyes.

“Let me make it up to you?” He licks his lips.

Your brain is telling you no, but you’re already nodding your head the moment he asks the question.

It’s all the invitation he needs before he’s dipping his head under your skirt and forcing your legs open. He holds you up, supporting your shaky thighs.

He licks a teasingly long stripe along your folds before diving in.

He sucks on your clit, moaning softly as your arousal begins to coat his tongue. You get wet for him so easily, it fuels his ego and desire for you.

He buries himself in your cunt, determined to get you off and make you forgive him. You’re pulling at his hair beneath your skirt and crying out his name.

“So good Gyu,” You moan breathlessly.

He eats you out so sloppily. There’s a mixture of his saliva and your arousal dripping down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornographic in nature. The cry that slips out of your lips when Mingyu bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of going down on you.

His warm tongue is bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.

Your hands are tangled in his hair messily, pulling and grabbing at his waves desperately. You’re grinding against him, pushing your hips into his face every time his tongue glides across your clit.

You pull at his hair particularly hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibrations coursing through your body. It’s just enough to have you cumming on his tongue.

He laps your cunt greedily, allowing you to ride out your orgasm on his face as he cleans you up with his mouth.

He doesn’t let up until you’re pulling him by the hair and forcing him off of you. He takes the hint, finally removing himself from your cunt and looking up at you.

His face is soaked and there’s a hazy, lustful look clouding his eyes as he stares up at you. “You forgive me yet?” he asks.

You ignore him, pulling him up to his feet and holding him against your body. “Fuck me, please.”

You can feel the way his cock twitches with excitement. It’s already hard and straining against the material of his jeans. He’s relieved to hear you want this just as bad as him.

He reaches into his back pocket for the car keys to unlock it. He yanks the door open and pushes you inside. He climbs on top of your body, wedging himself between your open legs.

The car door slams shut and his lips are back on yours in no time. Your hands on him, roaming his body until you’re undoing his jeans and helping him take them off.

He places your legs onto his shoulders and slides his length into you. He fills you up perfectly, stretching your tight hole open with ease. Your warmth envelopes him, arousal coating every inch of his cock and filling the car with lewd squelching noises with each thrust.

He finds his pace quickly, pounding into you roughly the way he knows you like it. The tip of his cock brushes deep inside of you every time he bottoms out, leaving you crying out with his every movement. You can feel the weight of the car shifting beneath you every time he fucks his cock into you.

He lets out a deep groan with each thrust when he slams into you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck with your hands tangled in his hair, bringing his body in closer to you.

"Shit," You cry.

He's literally got you folded in half and fucks himself deep inside of you. There are tears welling in your eyes due to the intensity of it all.

"You take me so good baby, every time," he coos. "This cunt was fucking made for me. All mine."

You can only manage a nod in agreement.

Your breathing is growing heavier and the car windows are starting to fog up. You're squeezing him so tight, it'd be hard for him to move if you weren't so wet.

He wipes away your tears, lightly shushing you as he draws his lips closer to your ear. "You hear that baby?"

"H-huh?" You choke out.

"Hear how wet you are for me? How good I fuck you. Was fucking made for you baby," he whispers into your ear. "I'd never give this up. You're perfect for me."

His hand sneakily slips between your thighs, thumb circling your clit in small circles. It has you mewling and whimpering upon contact and you're cumming only moments later.

It's one of the most intense orgasms your body has experienced. Your legs are shaking and you're gripping his hair for dear life as you cum around him. He fucks you through it sloppily.

The sheer feeling of your walls tightening and throbbing around him is already sending him close to the edge. He lets out a long groan and drops his head into the crook of your neck as he cums.

You feel his cock twitching inside of you as he pumps you full of his cum. His eyes are screwed shut and his hips stutter as he thrusts into you sloppily.

His hips finally come to a half and he's breathing heavily onto your skin. It takes him a minute to fully come down from his own orgasm, but he sits up and slides out of you slowly.

You suddenly feel cold and empty as the loss of contact.

"You feeling okay?" He asks breathlessly.

You nod, propping yourself up onto your elbows before searching the car for your clothes to redress yourself. The two of you situate yourselves in silence. There's a faint tension lingering in the air, but the post-nut clarity hasn't hit hard enough for either of you to actually address it.

Once you're both dressed again, you relocate back to the driver and passenger seats. "Ready to go back home?"

"Yeah," You say quietly.

He starts the car back up and turns to look at you. He leans over, extending his arm to fix your hair with delicate fingers. He pats your head softly, mumbling a soft "there."

He then grabs the Aux cord and plugs your phone in. He extends his arm once again, holding your phone out to you.

There's a bitter taste on your tongue when he does so. You fight the urge to say something in the moment. But he smiles at you and leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

It heals you the way a bandaid would. The sweetness of his lips is like a stamp replacing the bitterness that was on your tongue only moments ago.

It's not permanent, and you know it's only a matter of time before the bitterness returns. But you know he'll simply kiss it better and you'll just keep on going back.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[jaelvr]

You were beautiful

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 51. “Please, just stay a little longer.”  + 54. “Please don’t cry.”  + 50.  “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” 

Pairing : ex! doyoung x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : angst, fluff

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings : mutual feelings, exes to lovers, idol! au, slightly ooc

Have a great day !! 

——————————

"The things I'm about to tell you, aren't so you change what's already on your mind."

He looked through his bag, searching for the letter he'd been given earlier in the day. They'd had a fan meet for their newest comeback, something they were used to by now. Getting presents and letters was nothing new, but there was something about this one he couldn't quite put his finger on. It felt familiar - like a home of some kind. The writing seemed familiar to him and the person in front of him, despite not being able to clearly make them out, was someone he'd known - he was sure of it. He pulled the letter out, wasting no time in opening it to read it.

"It's just that I keep thinking about all the melodies you made asleep at night."

He got up carefully, not wanting to disturb you too much. A lovestruck smile on his face as he looked at your figure next to him, taking in your peaceful expression and how the sun lightly shone on your face, making you look like an angel. Doyoung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead, thumb softly caressing your cheek. He got up and stretched, about to head into the bathroom when he heard a tired yawn and eyes peering over at him. "Good luck today. I love you." you murmured, a sleepy smile on your face as you battled sleep to stay awake. "I love you too, sunshine. I'll see you later." he promised, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips and watching you for a few seconds before heading into the bathroom to get ready for practice. He could always get through the day if it meant coming home to you.

"I keep trying to forget but you were beautiful."

He thought back on it, remembering the way the pair of you would look at each other with absolute love. It was clear to anyone who saw you two how deep the connection truly ran. They'd been celebrating one of the comebacks, throwing a party to congratulate them. He'd come over when you were watching Jungwoo and Haechan drunkenly sing along to songs on the karaoke machine, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing fragile kisses to your neck. "Hey Doie." you grinned, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You alright?" he muttered, brushing hair out of your face while his other hand gently ran circles across your hip. You let out a hum of content, nuzzling into his chest. "I'm so proud of you." you whispered, looking up at him with complete admiration and love, his face mirroring the same. "I couldn't have done it without you." he admitted, kissing your forehead. The way you looked at him made him never want to leave, always needing to either be next to you or have you close by. The way you called his name and how addictive he found it. You felt like home.

"I keep thinking about how we used to be. God, I just hate this part."

You'd known something was off the minute he'd walked through the door. He had said nothing, having a shower and getting into his pyjamas before curling up in bed, silent. You'd crawled in beside him, simply holding him and rubbing his back as his tears escaped, your embrace tight and not letting go of him. "You're okay. I've got you, love." you whispered, your head on top of his as you rubbed his back. You didn't force him to talk, simply letting him take his time and if he didn't want to talk about it at all, you never pushed him to. You stayed with him all night, comforting him in the morning as you caressed and planted kisses all over his tear-stained face, not making a deal or pressing on the issue. Just wanting to be there for him to soothe him.

"Think I've cried more than I had imagined."

The scene taunted him constantly whenever he couldn't fall asleep. The look on your face when he'd uttered the cursed six words. Doyoung was almost convinced he'd heard your heart shatter at his words. He wasn't sure what had broken him more between your desperate pleas to not leave or the tears that streamed down your face. “Please don’t cry.” he pleaded, his own tears falling. He wanted to tell you he was joking or he'd changed his mind, but he couldn't. He wanted to stay but knew it wasn't possible.

Not with him being an idol. He couldn't. He laid awake that night, your face and his actions constantly haunting him, knowing the pain he'd caused which he tried to ignore, convincing himself it was for the better. He'd give anything to go back to how you two were before, his heart hurting more as he read over the letter, realising you'd forgiven him despite the damage he'd caused you.

"'Cause the last time that you looked at me, I did all I could, I watched you leave."

He refused. He got up, and quickly headed to the entrance of the dorm, pulling his coat on and tying his shoes on. "Doyoung? Where are you going?" Taeyong questioned, looking at his phone which read eleven o'clock. "The letter." he murmured once his shoes were done, Taeyong looking at him in confusion as he pushed the letter into his best friend's hands. "They were there. They gave it to me today at the fan meet." he hurriedly explained. Taeyong skimmed through, the end of the letter catching his eye. Besides the “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” was a scrawled sunshine. The nickname Doyoung always referred to you as. Taeyong looked back up, a small smile on his face as he knew what he was doing. He nodded, squeezing Doyoung's shoulder before he left, bidding him a gentle 'good luck'.

"All the things you gave to stay with me."

Once he'd gotten there, he anxiously knocked on the door. He prayed you hadn't moved otherwise he'd look like an absolute idiot - not that he wouldn't already. His breath hitched as the door to the familiar apartment opened, words escaping him as he took in your look in front of him. You were in your pyjamas, your hair slightly messy with your natural beauty. "You look beautiful." he got out, hesitantly stepping forward, afraid of your reaction. Relief consumed him as he felt you step forward, resting your head on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. He gently caressed the back of your head, the other resting on your back as he gripped you tightly, almost trying to assure himself he wasn't dreaming and he was actually here.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't feel right without you. I miss you. I miss the way you looked at me. I miss the way you called my name. I miss your smiles when we'd disagree, I-" he rambled, eyes widening as he felt you lean up, kissing him quickly yet lovingly. “Please, just stay a little longer.” you whispered a sad smile on your face. He cupped your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm not leaving this time."

[enjolraspermettendo]

I finally saw Les Miserables live in Milan yesterday so obligatory yap:

Okay first of all: KILLIAN DONNELLY?!?!?!? I was already excited that I was going to see him as Valjean but god that man's voice is just so beautiful. He played a spectacular Valjean, he dominated the stage and the crowd went wild every time he sang. I have no words. Just. What an experience. The whole cast was amazing but jesus, this man could do a one man show of Les mis and id give my first born to see it. Also, he carried around Marius's actor like he weighed nothing, that's so Valjean of him. Also, his soliloquy broke me, how he tried to give back the candlesticks after the bishop gave them to him, how he let the bag fall on the floor and picked it up only later. The emotion he put into his singing constantly brought tears to my eyes. What a voice. Indescribable

JAVERT!!!! Bradley Jaden was amazing. I love how much rage he gave to his character, it felt very true to the novel, on how he's compared to a wolf. In stars he's so devoted but the part that literally shook me was after he let Valjean and Marius go: he literally lost his mind and shouted "WHO IS THIS MAN" with such a wild air I literally gasped. He was unhinged during that song, so outraged and bitter and I loved it. It almost felt like he was killing himself to take Valjean's act of mercy away from him instead of his internal turmoil and honestly? I loved it. He had such a presence on stage it literally felt like he was the law. Also let's be honest, he rocked the coat

I LOVED Channa Hewitt as Fantine, She had such a warm and soft voice it felt like a mother's embrace. I cried 4 times during the show and 2 of those were Fantine's death and Fantine's part during the finale. She was perfect

Nathania Ong as Eponine????? I don't think I've ever heard someone sing her parts as perfectly as her. What a voice. Honestly I think the applauses for her were some of the longest and they were completely deserved. She made me cry. Amazing. Spectacular. I fell a little bit a lot in love. Unfortunately she missed the "He was never mine to lose" line but I think it was because her microphone wasn't connected?? Never mind she was perfect.

I know you all want to know about our boys Enjolras and Grantaire so. There wasn't much enjoltaire going on tbh but I didn't mind, I still think the actors (James D. Gish and Raymond Walsh) were perfect and I love their performance. Enjolras was completely focused on the revolution and keeping the others on track, while Grantaire mainly stuck with Gavroche all throughout. Enjolras's most positive reaction to grantaire was ironically clapping with the others at R's jokes once during Red and Black, but apart from that he was fairly hostile to him. During Drink With Me he tried to stop R from singing and bringing down morale by getting close to him and roughly saying "That's enough!" into the same microphone; after he stopped singing and everyone started moving away Enjolras tried to stop Grantaire or talk to him, he seemed kind of apologetic, but R Simply raised his bottle to him in a mock toast and then turned his back to him and I loved that, I love a bitter and petty Grantaire. Grantaire at the beginning was very amused by the whole situation and the excitement of the others, during red and black and the building of the barricade he kept hyping Gavroche up and parting his shoulder, nudging him towards the others as if it was all a game. When the first shots sounded he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation and started nudging Gavroche away and motioning for him to go away; later when the shooting for the fall of the barricade started sounding he lifted Gavroche in his arms and held him as the others started to fall until only them and Enjolras stood; then Gavroche went limp and R died with him, Enjolras died last. For the rest of the show and for Empty Chairs at Empty Tables Enjolras, Grantaire and Gavroche were on the small balcony/platform over the centre of the stage and to be honest it had a very "Father, Son and Holy Spirit" vibe in my opinion.

One Day More was absurd, it gave me chills all throughout.

When Valjean died and the bishop came in the hugged each other very hard, Valjean basically fell into the bishop's arms and that hit me hard.

Gavroche was so sassy I loved him.

Honestly everyone was perfect I literally have nothing bad to say. I think Enjolras's actor lost controls of his voice on a sillable but who cares, it was all amazing.

I also got merch! (It was all so expensive????? But I couldn't help myself). I got a tote bag with Cosette's famous illustration, a magnet and a brochure with the history of Lea Miserables and information and interviews of the World Tour cast. I also got 2 of the paper bags (they were cute okay) and my mum grabbed a literal handful of the bookmarks they were giving away lmao.

I'm sure I had something else I wanted to say but after these last 3 days my brain is completely scrambled. If any of you were at the show yesterday or are going in these days feel free to hit me up so we can go crazy together lmao

[boy-comics]

may I request xdh finding reader singing one of their songs (and slaying ofcofc) maybe they didn't know reader could sing this good??😋😋

XDINARY HEROES FINDING YOU SINGING THEIR SONGS

── .✦ a/n; ohooohoho yeah they'd be whipped

── .✦ gunil;

good enough

honestly, he just thought you weren't the singing type because the most he'd ever heard you do was hum a little

(he loves your humming to death)

(anyway)

when he hears you belting out the chorus to a song that he wrote, he's stunned

he immediately goes and sits across from you, chin in hand and eyes gleaming softly as he waves at you to keep going

you know how lucy from the peanuts comics looks at schroeder while he's playing the piano? same expression

"how come you were hiding this from me? your voice is amazing."

── .✦ jungsu;

save me

literal heart eyes

like. you've told him how shy you are about singing in front of him because he's literally a professional singer (even though he very emphatically stated that you don't have to worry)

so to hear you sing? one of his band's songs? one of his favorite songs??

he stays hidden around the corner with the sweetest smile on his face, waiting until you finish the song before walking up to you and trapping you in a hug

"h-how long have you been standing there?"

"sorry, i didn't want to interrupt your singing. it was really beautiful. i think i'm gonna cry …"

── .✦ gaon;

again? again!

"don't stop!"

then he's scrambling out of the room to get his guitar

his face is absolutely glowing as he comes back and starts playing along, eyes glued on you the entire time in complete awe

how did he not know that you could sing this well? and that you knew the lyrics of one of their songs by heart?

after you finish, you admit that you've memorized some of their other songs too and ask if he can play and sing them with you

he's literally in love

── .✦ o.de;

until the end of time

immediately puts off whatever he was planning to ask you in favor of listening to you

... it's such a sad song, though?

he hugs and kisses you and asks if you're okay, because you sounded incredible but you sang it with so much conviction that he's a little worried hahaha

(everything's okay, you assure him)

then he asks if he can record you singing so he can listen to it when you're apart

keeps you cuddled against him while you record so he has that too

"thanks, baby. i could listen to you sing our songs all day."

── .✦ junhan;

dear h.

it feels like a dream to him, honestly

he knows it's completely subjective, but your voice is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard

can't wipe the smile off his face as he listens quietly, remaining in the background as you lose yourself in the guitar solo

(his guitar solo)

the discovery makes him a little bit talkative afterwards! he asks you if you've ever taken lessons, complimenting different aspects of your voice

he's excited okay

and so flattered. it makes his week to learn something new about you that's connected to himself as well

── .✦ jooyeon;

feeling nice

wHIPS out his phone at the speed of light to record you

like, damn, he already brags about you but now he can brag about how good of a singer you are

when you get to the chorus he joins in, and that's when you realize that he's there

"jjoo, oh my god, are you recording—"

"CARVING OUT MY—"

he points at you and you immediately hit the high note for him, laughing afterwards as the biggest grin overtakes his face

you finish the song together and when it's done, he playfully shakes your shoulders and accuses you of trying to take his place

[lnfours]

haunted w conrad GO

okay so you’re trying to fucking kill me. i’m convinced. warnings: language, mentions of drinking, a little bit of fluff, angst and just pure heartbreak idk.

inbox 💌 | listen

if there was one thing you knew about conrad fisher, it was that he was unpredictable.

you had always been friends with the fisher and conklin siblings, living next door to them every summer for as long as you could remember. it wasn't a secret that you and conrad were the closest out of the group. but, as the two of you got older, you had realized that it was because you had fallen for the brunette boy with floppy hair that always seems to end up in his eyes no matter how short he cuts it.

you thought back to the moment on the dock, the two of you laughing as you sat with your feet in his lap. he was looking down at his phone, trying to figure out which song to play next on the speaker. belly, jere, and steven were all back by the pool, laughing loudly and carrying on.

you looked over at him as you caught his glance, you smiled, "what?"

she shook his head, "nothing,"

you raised an eyebrow, "sure it's not just nothing, con?" you could tell when he was trying his best to keep a secret, but it never worked. not around you, anyway.

"i just... you have a crush on me?" he asked, his lips turned up in a smile. your eyes widened as you sat up.

"uhm," you trailed off, looking at his expression. he didn't seem grossed out and if anything, he looked relieved? "uhm, yeah. how do you know?"

he smiled, "belly."

you rolled your eyes, "that girl is going to be the death of me."

he laughed, "it's okay. i mean, i guess i kind of have a thing for you, too."

you looked over at him, "you have a crush... on me?"

he smiled, nodding as he moved closer to you. you smiled as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "i do,"

your heart pounded against your ribs as you smiled, "cool."

"cool." he echoed back.

you made the mistake of looking down at his lips. he smiled softly, doing the same. you had always wanted this exact moment to happen, every wish on a candle, every penny in a fountain, you had wished for him. for this moment.

and now it was finally happening.

"can i kiss you?" he asked. you nodded your head.

"please."

he smiled before connecting your lips with his. every thing about the kiss was all you'd been waiting for. it was finally happening.

and the two of you had been together ever since. even during the spring, fall and winter, he was yours during every season.

now it was the next summer, and everything had changed from when you'd last seen him. he was quieter, kept to himself more. spending his days daydrinking, and smoking more. something was off, and it was like he was forcing himself to act happy around you.

you had tried asking him about it, but he always just shut you out, insisting he was fine when he really wasn't.

you sat in your bed, putting down your book as your phone buzzed on the mattress next to you.

connie can we talk?

your heart dropped, things like this never ended well.

y/n beach in 5?

connie sounds good

you tugged on a hoodie and slipped on your flip flops before making your way out the back door. you walked onto the beach, spotting conrad sitting down in the sand.

"you wanted to talk?" you asked, hugging your knees to your chest. he looked down at the sand by his feet, not making eye contact with you.

red flag number one.

"i uhm," he started, brining a hand up to run through his hair, "i think that we should put us on pause, for a minute.."

his voice trailed off as looked over at him, "are you serious?"

he finally decided to look over at you, his eyes red. had he been crying?

"yeah," he said, "i just... i don't think we should do this, not right now, anyway."

he knew that look on your face, you weren't listening to what he was saying, instead your eyes studied his facial features, "what's wrong, conrad? what aren't you telling me?"

he groaned, "for fucks sake, are you even listening?"

you repeated your question, "are you listening to me? i'm trying to help you!"

"i don't need your fucking help, y/n!" he was yelling now, standing up as he rubbed his face with his hands, "jesus."

you looked at him, standing up to face him again, "why're you pushing me out? what's going on, just talk to me. please."

the please came out quieter than you had meant for it to, and he knew it was because you were on the brink of tears. he looked over at you, "this was a mistake."

you looked at him confused, "what was?"

"us," he didn't mean it, he just was doing what he knew how to do best, push people out and hurt the ones you love the most.

you scoffed, looking away from him and looking out towards the ocean. the moon was hitting the water at just the right angle for it to reflect onto the waves. it would've been a pretty sight, a nice moment if he hadn't ruined it.

ruined you. with that one word. mistake.

you thought you had conrad all figured out up until now. up until this summer, he was different.

"don't leave it like this," you whispered, looking back at him with tears in your eyes. he desperately wanted to reach out to you, tell you he didn't mean any of it. tell you the truth about his mom's cancer, and his dad's affair.

but he couldn't. he didn't know how to.

"please, don't," you whispered, "i love you."

he let a tear fall from his eyes as he shook his head, turning to walk away, "i'm sorry."

he ignored you calling back for him as you stood on the beach. you were frozen in the sand, watching the love of your life walk away from you. he let the tears roll off his cheeks and disintegrate into the sand as he walked away from the one form of true love he had ever felt.

you.