#I think the next one will be a song fic? Im not sure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 9 months ago

Note

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

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thighguys · 4 months ago

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Phan Fic Recs!!

here's a bunch of my absolute favorites for anyone who needs a distraction from the election <3 i will make a second post with shorter ones as well, this post will just be fics that are over 10k

Inheriting Love by Fictropes (22k)- Dan is a lawyer who executes wills in a small town in the English countryside, and Phil's aunt leaves him a house. One of the cutest fics I've read recently tbh, lots of banter and cows<3

Silver Arrows to the Heart by @evermorepeyton (137k, WIP)- How could i POSSIBLY make a rec list without including this masterpiece??? Dan and Phil are Formula 1 drivers, chaos ensues<3 sooooo much fun (and there are some really beautiful cool women in there too, just as a treat)

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) by kishere (123k)- Dan is an amateur figure skater who scores a spot at the famous Lester training gym, where he meets the legendary Phil Lester and of course they fall in love... this one has sooo many cute fetus moments and wonderful cameos from Kath<3 absolutely love it

Like a Bowl of Oranges by cloej88 (@bitchslapblastoids) (47k)- Phil is a filmmaker looking to amplify queer stories in the media, Dan is a ghostwriter who's been writing a memoir on the side, you can guess what happens next. very VERY fun fic, lots of drama and lovely reflection, as well as the softest scenes between them. love this one (and the author :3)

The Odd Uneven Time by @yikesola (20k)- A 2009 fic from Phil's perspective, falling in love with a boy over the Internet. Absolutely WONDERFUL vibes, so so so cute (and it probably happened in real life ahaha)

Live Incidentally by yikesola (37k)- Phil makes novelty t-shirts and Dan buys them :) really funny, also some great Lester family moments

The Pianist Everyone Is Talking About... Is My Husband by @natigail (25k)- Dan is a famous pianist, Phil plays his songs on the radio, but nobody knows that they're actually married. Lots of chaos ensues, crazy fangirls can feel super represented, and Dan laughs at Phil about it all<3 this fic is so funny lol, highly HIGHLY recommend

Kick Me While I'm Down by jerserker (14k)- Dan and Phil join an adult kickball league! Phil just wants to make friends, and Dan... kicks everyone's asses <3 Really funny competitive Dan, fun times honestly :)

missing the obvious by Fictropes (14k)- Dan plays videogames in an anonymous Discord server at night, and during the day he goes to his boring office job and hooks up with his coworker Phil in bathroom stalls... I wonder how these two things could possibly be connected...

Our House by sierradeux (50k)- Dan is a real estate agent, Phil is a Youtube house flipper, they team up to cohost an HGTV renovation special and fall in love. With the house, obviously. But also with each other <3 this is one of my favorites guys I think it should be required reading for everyone on phannie tumblr

maybe this christmas by blackbirddan (13k)- it's November, im allowed to rec christmas fics now, right??? anyway, this one is HUGE for fans of the Lester and Howell families, just so so so soft and sweet and awesome<3

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY by natigail (176k)- i mean this one has a pretty self explanatory title... read for super hot dancer Phil, awkward celebrity Dan, and so so so many beautiful outfit and dance descriptions :3 seriously, I wish I could watch this season irl :( this is for sure in my top 3 fics of all time to be so honest

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? by natigail (15k)- Cornelia pov on meeting the boy Phil brought home, and then throughout the years. SO CUTE!!!!! really big for fans of outsider pov (me)

okie dokie<3 i will be making an under 10k rec list as well, so be on the lookout for that one!

#shoutout specially to natigail and Fictropes you guys have been saving my ao3 bookmarks almost singlehandedly forever #dan and phil #phan #dnp #phandom #dip and pip #phil lester #dan howell #dnpg #dapg #dan and phil games #fic rec #phan fiction #phan fic #phan au #daniel howell #phanfiction

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jjoongiesbetter · 7 months ago

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✎ᝰ. mon's ateez fic recommendations (part 1)!

mdni!

│hi there! i haven't read much lately so the first part came across as a bit shorter than i expected but the next ones will surely be longer!

— as a writer myself, i just wanted to take a moment to thank all the authors for sharing such incredible writing, your hard work is truly appreciated! thank you for sharing your writing with us! ♡

──────── ♡⸝⸝

⤷ kim hongjoong x reader

♡┆ugh, as if by @ennysbookstore; the whole mini-series is just amazing and i enjoyed each part a lot! once i started i couldn't stop reading! loved how well hongjoong was written! the build-up of the first part was top-notch! and the character development... i should thank the author on my knees for writing this masterpiece. one of the best authors out there! definitely will read again!

♡┆swapped by @daisykihannie; the prompt is just so fun and interesting, one of the most creative ones i stumbled across! i haven't read something like this before. enjoyed it very very much!

♡┆punching bag by @mulloey; i must admit it was so just so undeniably hot, angry hongjoong and also so well-written! you will find me re-reading it an unholy amount of times.

♡┆clumsy hearts, steady love by @edenesth; WHAT IF I TELL YOU I CRIED? i already commented on this one on my main but im going to repeat myself! incredibly written, hongjoong suits the concept so well, my heart hurt a bit while reading but it's hongjoong, of course, i forgive him. somehow still very cute.

⤷ jeong yunho x reader

♡┆active recovery by @k-hotchoisan; y'all so i was always so shy about commenting on smut but tbh don't we all read it? author killed it yet again! got me hot, bothered and i am starting to consider a gym subscription!

♡┆the drill by @byuntrash101; look i know this one was posted last year, and i am so mad for not reading it sooner😭 i loved the storyline, wooyoung as a side character was just so funny, yunho without rizz altered my brain chemistry. i can't lie i was thinking about this fic for days after i read it! it's the perfect blend of fun and smut.

♡┆private lessons by @bombuni; i must admit i love professor yunho and it is always a pleasure finding and reading such fics, especially when it's as good as this one! (would love to see a part two one day)

♡┆muffled by @desirehorizon; the plot!!! the writing!!! the smut!!! and it was funny too!!! what more can i want? perfect!! imma say it once again but i enjoyed every word of this fic!!! can't wait to read more from the author!

⤷ song mingi x reader

♡┆still your biggest fan by @byuntrash101; good god it was just so incredibly hot, we need to appreciate the idea because it surely is creative! who doesn't just love teasing mingi? let's agree that we all do.

♡┆sour candy by @0097linersb; loved the idea🙂‍↕️ needy mingi is my favorite mingi, it was very very hot. you better find the time and read it!

⤷ choi jongho x reader

♡┆minor nuisance by @everyonewooeverywhere; i tell you they are in love love! trust me, you definitely need to read this one! jongho was just so sweet, a great fluff/smut combo and now i need jongho in my life even more :(

♡┆freestyle lap by @bro-atz; we all should know by now that bro is just simply one of the best when it comes to smut and they never, never disappoint. i definitely needed to read this one after i saw that pool jongho pics. if you haven't read it yet, what are you even doing?

♡┆falling and sleeping by @seonghwaddict; it was posted earlier this year but i just had to include it :( it was just utterly cute, jongho is adorable. well-written, and melted my poor heart.

multiple members:

⤷ choi jongho x kang yeosang x reader

♡┆the post show high by @bombuni; i must shamelessly admit while reading it i felt like the author somehow got into my brain and just picked one of my fantasies, hope it's not tmi. so saying i loved it it's an understatement! one of my favorite authors for real!

pairings:

⤷ kim hongjoong x jeong yunho (hohong)

ao3 ♡┆darling, you will bury me (before i bury you) by SunshineAndRayne; cute cute cute! i loved every letter of it, yunho is so whipped and i am living for it!

ao3 ♡┆waiting for you by marspacz; i absolutely loved this one so much! my heart needed this, had me smiling the entire time i was reading! and then the shotgun scene—damn, that was hot!

#mon's recommendations ᡣ𐭩 #ateez fic recs #ateez x reader #ateez fics recs #ateez au recs #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader

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unknownati · 1 month ago

Text

xii. never lose me

a/n: (i lost the ask so sorry to that anon, hope u still find this 💀 but the ask was like: can you make a fic based off never lose me by flo milli? with smut)

happy new year my loves!

sorry this took so long im such a slow writer. plus im braindead asf. ik i said i had to proofread this in my last post but i lied i didnt 😬

nooobody ask me where he got all this money cuz baby idk. i hope some of this stuff is correct bc i am not rich 😭

warnings/tags: smut 👻, fem!black!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features BUT reader dresses feminine (think aliyahsinterlude), modern!ekko, boat sex yay, semi-public(?), risky, backshots 🎉, oral (e! recieving), reader getting spoiled, soft dom!ekko, so loosely inspired by the song, not proofread. raw vibe

_______________________________________________

ekko goes above and beyond treating you right.

anything you want, all yours. that new purse? check your mailbox. you need your nails done? here's $300, keep the change, don't worry about it. he always makes sure you're pleased, even if you don't ask. he knows everything about you by heart. favorite flowers, favorite foods, plus your usual orders, so it's not uncommon to come home to food on the table with a fresh vase of florals seated next to it.

of course, nothing about this relationship was ever one sided. there is no one who prances around announcing that ekko is your man quite like you do. you make sure ekko knows that if he ever needs you, no matter what, you're there.

in return, you get whatever you want.

"ekko," you sing, putting your phone down in the cup holder. your hand rests over ekko's, which has a gentle grip on your thigh. crickets chirp outside, veiled beneath the dark sky and lack of light. you're speeding down an empty backroad on your way back home from a little shopping spree at a mall an hour and some change away. "i wanna go somewhere."

he hums. "where were you thinking?"

"dunno yet," you lean your weight onto the center console, maybe somewhere in asia."

"yeah?" he asks, squeezing the fat of your thigh. you smile wide. "sure. let me know when you decide."

"i will, thanks baby," you chirp, gently pulling his hand up your thigh and closer to your center. his fingers catch on the hem, pushing your denim skirt up and gently pressing his thumb into your clit. he's rubbing featherlight circles into it, running over the lacy underwear he bought for you a while back. your gasp is barely heard beneath the music.

the engine whirrs, and you see the speedometer shoot up.

so impatient.

.:*☆

it truly didn't take long for ekko to book that flight. you said the place, and about 30 minutes later everything was set in stone.

excitement rushed through your body as you packed, making sure to tuck your matching sets beneath your clothes. he deserved some type of reward, right?

when you finally arrived at your hotel, late into the night, jet-lagged to all hell, you couldn't help but ask ekko if he needed some help. he did everything, all you did was walk around, complain about your feet hurting a bit, and cling to his arm. regardless, he insisted you worried about nothing and just got comfy for the night because he had something big planned tomorrow.

never would you have ever guessed that you'd end up on a cruiser yacht.

he had you blindfolded after you returned to the hotel from eating and shopping, promising that you'd love it and that you just needed to be patient and trust him. you did; no hesitation there.

and once he slipped it off after your minor freak-out wondering what you're stepping onto that has to be so wobbly, it took your breath away.

the sun sinks below the horizon, yellow rays glittering off of the water. your hands met his, perched on your hips, looking back to find his prideful grin.

"ekko..." you pout.

"iii know, i'm a great boyfriend, you love me, i know," he jokes, chuckling as you walk around the cockpit, marveling the fact that you're on one. "it'll leave soon, there's a cooler with drinks, and i can take pictures for you."

you smile wide. "my personal photographer. in fact, take some of me right now before the sun sets," you rush to hand him your phone, quickly posing yourself in front of the scene.

ekko took taking photos for you so seriously, genuinely telling you how to switch your posing and expression, and without missing a beat always hyping you up to the third degree.

so when you heard nothing from ekko, no 'oooh's or 'mhm's, you turned to him.

"ekko?"

"sorry, you're just..." he laughs sheepishly, avoiding your gaze as if he wasn't the key to your heart. "so pretty."

you roll your eyes. "you're so corny."

the tone of your voice completely betrayed your words, honeyed and bashful. he catches it, shaking his head and raising the camera again.

"right—okay, let's try this again."

.:*☆

the pictures came out great. you wanted to wait until you got home to pick your favorites to post, but all of them were so good that you didn't know which one to pick.

you leaned against the railing, staring out into deep night, city lights twinkling in the distance. the cool sea breeze rushes against your skin, the salty scent of the ocean flooding around you. it was too good of an opportunity to not take more.

"ekko, take a few more for me?"

he hums, not a moment of protest, finding your phone and settling into the seat opposite of you.

you take your seat as well, your torso twisted and legs crossed. his mouth opens—'move your leg a little' rests on his tongue, until he inspects your gaze through the phone. you weren't quite looking at the camera, but rather...behind it.

"you okay?"

you nod. "yeah...you look good as fuck over there."

he fumbles over his words for a moment, looking down at his attire. "in my spiderman shirt?"

"mhm, especially in your spiderman shirt," you look him up and down, eyes sliding over his muscles. "come back over here real quick?"

he's surprised he didn't trip from how quickly he scrambled over to you, sitting in the seat beside you. his smile is poorly hidden as you crawl into his lap. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer.

you direct his face up, fingers gently pushing at his chin, leaning down to lock your lips together.

his hands roam your body—clearly too impatient—fingers pushing beneath your shirt, pulling up and revealing your bra. intricate lace, almost in a floral pattern, dyed a dusty pink that was barely visible under the moonlight. the cups had a deep cut, plunging down from your collar bone to the bottom of your sternum with a dainty little decorative bow.

you literally feel him getting hard. he looks up, fingers running along the band. "this for me?"

"sure is." you nod, reaching down to tug your skirt down. the hem of your matching panties peek out. "you like 'em?"

"do i?" he glances above the short barrier at the captain, who isn't paying an ounce of attention. just humming in his own world, only focused on the path they were going on. perfect.

"shit..." his lips reconnect with yours before trailing down, sucking hickies into your skin, tightly squeezing your thighs, brows furrowing.

you can already tell he's going to find a way to seat you right on his face so you stop him—not because you don't want that, but you've been spoiled enough for one day—pushing his shoulders back and getting off of him.

he looked like a kicked puppy when you separated from him and you just roll your eyes, sinking down onto your knees with a wide smile. it all connects for him and he relaxes against the seat, lips parting as you quickly unbutton his pants, your nail hooking at the band of his trunks. you tug, down, down, down, until his dick springs free and lightly taps his naval.

you waste no time, your lips meeting the base, then parting to let your tongue run up a vein that lead you to the sensitive tip.

ekko shivers, eyes shifting from the arch in your back to your lips, leaving glossy stamps all along his length.

you, on the other hand, kept your eyes locked onto his. he kept averting his gaze. for what, you weren't sure. but you tapped his tip against your tongue, capturing his attention. finally, his eyes meet yours. now you feel like you can continue.

you kiss the tip again, smiling up at him as you allow it to breach your lips, sliding into your mouth agonizingly slow.

"fuuuck," he drags, watching you slowly sink down, taking almost all of it yet stopping where your lips met your fingers.

you get acquainted with the feeling, adjusting your tongue to press against the skin. your cheeks hollow, your head slowly falling into a bobbing movement, stroking him alongside your movements.

he struggles to not thrust straight up into your mouth, gripping the edge of the leather cushions. one hand meets the back of your head but doesn't push or pull, just rests there.

his hips twitch, torso relaxing against the back of the seat, growing rigid whenever your tongue ran across just the right spot. his chest rises and falls rapidly, quickly drawing in breaths then moaning them right out.

your jaw already started to ache, but looking up at him as he falls apart from just your mouth is beyond worth it. he shakes his head, eyes leaving yours, squeezing shut, and you can tell he's already close.

his hand leaves your head, forearm laying against his forehead. you tap him, a reminder. look at me. he peeks down, a breathy chuckle pushing through.

"doin' so good for me, yeah? 'm close—" he warns you—you nod in acknowledgment.

you unhinge your jaw, sticking your tongue out so he can watch his cum spill all over it,

he sucks air in through his teeth, and before you know it you're bent over the seat, looking out onto the horizon. you start to speak and he just shushes you, tugging your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side. soaked.

maybe you were just too impatient, because before he could even get comfortable you were reaching back to put it in. his laugh rings behind you, shooing your hand away so he can finish sinking all the way inside you.

his pelvis meets your ass and you almost caught a glimpse of the back of your skull. he started slow, gripping your waist and bringing you back to meet his strokes.

you're squeezing around him so tight, and all he can do is stare in awe at it. his length glistens, coated in your juices. then he couldn't take it, his pace quickening, watching the fat of your ass recoil against his movements.

it feels euphoric, almost unreal. staring out into the night sky, stars twinkling above you, ocean swaying below you, and ekko thrusting into your heat, moaning behind you—it was overwhelming, it had your flesh running hot.

"feels good?" he questions, though your gasps and mewls answer loud and clear.

"fuck, yes."

"mhm, you're mine, right?"

"a-all yours." you nod.

"all mine?" he asks, and it's rhetorical. not like you could reply anyway, because your moans caught in your throat, rendering any chance you had at words useless.

your noises drowned beneath the whirring of the motor paired with the water swaying beneath you, which you're endlessly grateful for. you're lucky that driver pays almost no attention to what's happening behind him.

you were especially loud, and it only got worse as you felt your orgasm building. ekko knew it too, the way your voice shook, the way you tightened around him, the way you begged him not to stop—it was pushing him over the edge too.

"fuck, that's it. just like that. i got you, okay? good."

your cries overlap ekko's softer groans as you came, your form trembling, jolts of pleasure coursing throughout your body as he fucked you through it.

he had to hold back from coming inside you, letting you ride out your high before pulling out to release all over your back.

he gives you no time to recover, immediately diving in for another round, intoxicated with the way you gasps caught in your throat, holding onto the seat for dear life.

he leans down, his lips meeting your shoulder, his brows furrowed. it did not take long for the two of you to get close again, still sensitive from your previous release. within a few minutes, your juices coat his length and another load lands on your back, seeping down and settling into the dip of your spine.

you're both catching your breath, ekko presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, and you have to stop him from kissing you more. "we're almost there," you hiss, and he huffs, lifting off of you to get himself together,

thank god there were paper towels on board. he cleans his release off of your back and skirt, managing to get the both of your appearances together by the time the yacht met the docks.

the moment the captain comes back to thank you for riding with him, ekko's giving him the quickest thank you possible along with his tip and rushing you off of the boat.

"let's get back to the room? i just wanna see that set you have on a little better."

you know that the second that door closes behind you in the hotel, there is not a chance you'll be stopping.

__________________________________________

pssst!: not the most confident in this one.,. i will make up for this one i swear 😔 locking in!

maybe a part 2 with what happens at the hotel cough cough

#arcane x reader #ekko x reader #ekko x you #arcane ekko #arcane x you #arcane smut #arcane x reader smut #ekko smut #ekko x fem reader #Spotify

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mariasont · 2 months ago

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hi love 🫶🏻 could you write spencer x reader inspired by taylor's "renegade"? there is one fic like that but spencer is as the one taylor sings about there and i was thinking you could maybe do the opposite where reader is the one who this song is about? idk if my explanation makes sense 😭 anyway, have a nice day!!

Messy - S.R

a/n: okay i wasn't sure if this is exactly what you wanted but i hope i did it justice and im so thankful you sent me this request <3 im so sorry it took soooo long for me to get to it, ilysm i hope you're having the best day

also this one is so near and dear to my heart like i choked myself up writing this hahahah so i hope you all enjoy

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: depression, unhealthy coping methods, hopeful ending <3

wc: 1.5k

The clock on the wall ticked quietly, a soft sound that somehow seemed louder in the silence of the apartment. The hour hand had long since crept past midnight, but you stayed where you were--curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, a forgotten book spread open in your lap. This is where you had been for an amount of time that you were embarrassed to admit.

The words on the page blurred together, your eyes tracing the same sentence for the fifth time. You weren't really reading. Not anymore.

The sound of Spencer's footsteps broke the relative quiet as he appeared out of the darkened hallway. You didn't need to look up to know he was watching you, a concerned crease in his brow and sleep tousling his hair. You could feel his gaze--soft, searching and damningly knowing.

"You're still awake." It wasn't a question.

You shifted, turning the page like you were engrossed in the story, even though you hadn't absorbed a word. When you glanced up at him, you shot him a smile--a practiced one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Couldn't sleep."

Spencer didn't say anything right away, but you could hear him moving closer, the creaking weight of his steps seeming hesitant--like he wasn't sure whether you wanted company or space.

You weren't sure either.

The thought of him sitting next to you wrapped around your lungs like a too-tight band, the way it always did when someone got too close. And yet, the thought of him staying away constricted something deeper, something you weren't sure you could name.

Finally, the corner of the couch dipped as he sat beside you, close enough for the invisible wall you had built to feel less solid. It felt like something similar to sunlight filtering through a curtain's tear.

"What's on your mind?"

You blinked, fingers picking at the worn edges of the book's pages as if they might pull apart and reveal something you weren't able to put into words.

"Nothing." You said it too quickly. Brittle. Then, because you could feel his eyes on you--seeing through you--you added, "It's silly, really. Just overthinking.

You tried to make it sound dismissive, punctuating it with a small laugh that you were sure came out quiet and hollow. "You don't need to worry about me, Spence. I'm fine."

"Fine," he repeated softly, like the word tasted wrong on his tongue.

His voice was so gentle, but you could feel every last bit of unspoken concern wrapped inside it, the way it always was when you said you were fine. You hated that--hated that he could see through the cracks you worked so hard to hide. You wanted to tell him it was better this way, safer for both of you. You didn't want to scare him or worse drag him into the parts of yourself that felt sharp and broken.

You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, cataloging your body language, the way your smile faltered, the way you fidgeted with the book like you needed to keep your hands busy to avoid cracking open.

Spencer tilted his head, continuing to study you, but he didn't call you out on the lie. He never did--not directly. Instead, he adjusted his posture, sinking further into the couch like he intended to stay.

"What are you reading?" He nodded towards the book in your lap.

You glanced at the cover and felt the heat creep up your neck.

"Oh, um... something I grabbed off the shelf earlier." You flipped it shut, careful not to let him see how little progress you'd actually made. "It's good. Just... taking my time with it."

It was such a small thing to lie about, but you were clinging to any shred of normalcy. You didn't want him to see this version of you--the one who stared blankly at pages, lost in spirals you couldn't quite explain.

"That's okay, you know," Spencer said quietly. "Taking your time."

You knew he wasn't talking about the book, not really. Before you could deflect, his hand moved gently across the space between you, his fingertips brushing up and down the length of your arm.

The touch was so soft--barely there--but it distracted you. You exhaled, a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, and let your eyes flutter shut for just a moment. It had been so long since you let yourself be in his presence, let yourself lean into him without pulling away.

“Did you know that depression physically changes the brain,” Spencer said suddenly, his voice low and conversational, like he was talking about a science fact and not you. “It affects the hippocampus, the amygdala—the areas responsible for regulating memory, emotion, and stress.”

You swallowed, opening your eyes again, fingers still fussing with the book. “Spence…”

He continued, his tone gentle, as though he were easing you into the truth. "The hippocampus actually shrinks during prolonged depression. That's the part of the brain responsible for processing memories, for distinguishing between what's important and what's not. That's why it feels so hard to concentrate. Why sometimes everything feels... too much, even the little things."

You stilled under his touch, gaze focused on the closed book. The words he was saying were clinical, sure, but the way he was saying it made your heart clench.

"And the amygdala?" he continued. "It's the emotional center of the brain. In people with depression, it becomes overactive, and the body starts reacting to stress like it's always in fight-or-flight mode. Even when there's no threat. Even when you're safe."

Spencer paused, letting the words sink in, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines down your arm. You could feel him watching you, but you couldn't look at him yet. You weren't sure you wanted him to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“I’m not trying to analyze you,” he added quickly. “I know it probably sounds like that. But I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that it's not all in your head."

He hesitated, then nudged you gently, his hand squeezing your arm as if to reinforce his words. "This isn't some character flaw or something you've invented. Your brain--your body--feels this, physically. It's real."

You blinked, and the first tear fell. His words cracked something inside you--not because they hurt, but because you hadn't realized how badly you needed to hear them.

"It's like..." Spencer searched for the right words, brow furrowing. "It's like being stuck in a room with a broken thermostat. You're freezing, and everyone else is telling you it's warm because they can't feel what you feel. But just because they can't see it doesn't mean it isn't happening. You're not imagining the cold."

"You're not a problem that needs solving," he murmured. "You're not too much. You're enough, exactly as you are."

Something snapped in your chest--sharp, small, and unexpected.

"I'm not trying to save you," Spencer continued, like he could sense the thought forming on your tongue. "I just... I want you to let me stand beside you. Even if it's messy. Even if it's hard."

You sniffled, swiping quickly at the tear trailing down your cheek, and glanced up at him with a small, wobbly smile.

"Even if it's messy?" Your voice trembled slightly, but the hint of a laugh broke through--soft and fragile, like glass. "You hate messes."

Spencer's lips quirked into a smile, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted. The air felt a little lighter.

"That's true," he admitted. "But I'll make an exception. For you."

You let out a watery laugh, the sound catching somewhere in your throat, and it startled you--how good it felt to laugh, even through tears. Spencer smiled wider, like seeing that microscopic spark of light in you was enough.

He shifted closer than, his hand sliding from your arm to cradle your cheek, his touch soft and careful, as though he were afraid you might pull away. "Even if it's messy."

And then he kissed you--soft and slow, his lips brushing yours with infinite gentleness, as though he were trying to tell you everything he couldn't express aloud. For a heartbeat, you tensed. The instinct to pull back, to close yourself off, flared up like it always did. But Spencer didn't push; he simply stayed, giving you a choice.

So you let yourself lean into him.

The tension melted from your shoulders as you kissed him back, the faint taste of salt lingering between you where tears still clung to your lips. His hand stayed against your cheek. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you finally let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

You glanced at the book still resting on your lap. The Bell Jar. Your hand hovered over the book's spine, the instinct to cling to it, but you let your hand fall away.

"Yeah," you said softly.

The book stayed on the couch, closed, forgotten as you rose from the couch and let him guide you toward the bedroom.

And maybe, just maybe, the glass was beginning to crack.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72

join my taglist here!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fic

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binniesbooks · 6 months ago

Note

HI FAYEEE hruuu?!?! Missed requesting fics from u uheheeu. so ermmm i watched the new txt vlog in us and holy shithffj huening got so fucking buffed rn and im legit having a huening brainrot rn😭

Soo if u dont mind, may i request a dom!hueningkai x sub!readerrr

Scenario is reader and hueningkai are only together for a few months. The boys and you went to a bar to drink and the members teased kai for being so obsessed with reader and like a "perv" type? is that what u call it IDK and reader knows kai as a like very shy type boy so its kinda hard to believe. BUT, when they get home, huening snapped and proved that he's not innocent and shit. She didint knew that huening got so strong and buff. (rest is yours to write:))

Idk if this is good enough but feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with my request!!

• SWEET LIES

HK 002 .F22 2024

wc 3k

pairings slightdom!Kai x subfem!reader

warnings safe sex, slight dom heuning kai, choking, oral (f receiving), marking, spanking (+ anything else I missed)

faye's note I didn't actually expect that someone would miss requesting from me??? 😖❤️ Sorry, this took me so long to finish this too ☹️☹️ but yesss! Buff Kai! Fuck fuck fuck 🙂‍↕️

p.s. I just got home again from uni, immediately pulling out my phone to post this lolololol

It had only been five months since you started dating Heuning Kai, and each day felt like a new adventure. His smile was infectious, and his laughter was a melody that lingered long after conversations ended.

He's a sweet guy, not so shy but not so laid back. In public, he was charming, the boy-next-door type who could melt your heart with just a glance. To anyone else, including you, he seemed innocent—perhaps even a little shy.

"Kai, do you mind going with me to the grocery store after class? I've run out of stocks." You leaned a bit, whispering to your seatmate—Kai, your boyfriend.

Kai glanced back at you, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Sure, let's go later," he said, patting your head.

Eyes were always watching you. Inside the school premises, on your morning walks, in the grocery—anywhere.

You could only smile to yourself, because who wouldn't? Kai, the famous and versatile band member of your campus, started dating you. He is known to be shy among others, therefore people were shocked to see you two dating.

You held his hand, walking side by side, squeezing it thrice, silently signaling the "I love you" unknown to him.

Kai pays for your groceries most of the time. He never lets you spend a single cent, even when you insist. Therefore to at least give back to him, you often visit him with groceries and gifts too. Because even though you're independent, you feel bad that he was the only one who was spending money.

Your take on dating? 50-50.

But these days, Kai started giving you expensive gifts. He has been giving you perfumes, jewelry, clothes—anything that costs a fortune because of its brand name.

Kai is a sweet boy. The sweet and gentle type of boyfriend. Takes you on cute picnic dates to entertaining arcade ones. Kisses the top of your head, and your forehead, and intertwines your fingers. Sings a song for you, serenading you when you're sulky. --- you couldn't ask for more.

So when he invited you to one of his friends's parties, you gladly obliged.

"Y/n, do you wanna go with me to the party tomorrow night? I also want my hyungs to see you in person," he asked on one of your usual Friday movie nights.

"Mhm! Sure!" Of course, you're more than happy to go with him. Your heart flutters with the thought that he will finally introduce you to his friends.

"Kai, do you wanna change places tonight? I'll sleep on the couch, take the bed," you suggested. It is because even though Kai sleeps at your place, he never sleeps beside you. He always takes the couch. It's not like he doesn't want to, he just thought that you might not like it. But you, on the other hand, think that your boyfriend is just too pure and cute, so you never ask him to sleep beside you.

"No, no! I'm okay here on the couch. Please take the bed." Kai mutters as he pulls you closer, hugging you tight and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sure? You can take the bed tonight. I don't mind."

"No, you take it. And have a good rest, pumpkin. I don't want you to have a sore body when you wake up the next morning," he says.

"'M'kay..." you muttered.

"I love you, pumpkin," he whispers.

"I love you, Kai." You pulled away and stared at him for a while. Kai's gaze drops down to your lips as he gulps. It didn't escape your sight, you felt your heart thump a little harder. Is it bad that you want to kiss him too?

He quickly averts his gaze, pulling the pillow towards his body. "Goodnight, pretty. Sleep tight, yeah?" He smiled at you as he laid down on the couch. He watched you trudge towards your bedroom, grunting when he heard the soft thud of the wooden door.

Kai drapes his arm over his eyes, gently shoving another pillow on his lower half.

The atmosphere was electric when you arrived at the bar the next night. The dimly lit space echoed with laughter and music, a vibrant backdrop to the chaotic energy of his friends.

You felt a thrill in your chest, happy to be part of his world, to finally meet his friends. "Hyung, this is y/n, my girlfriend." Kai proudly introduced you to his friends.

You waved your hand and meekly muttered a soft hi.

"Are you sure about Kai?" one of them asked with a playful tone. He's tall, but among the five of them, you can tell he's the shortest.

"Hyunggg!" Kai pouts.

"Hey, don't be like that!" A tall and fair-skinned guy chimes. "My name is Soobin, you can just call me Bin. Nice to meet you," he added as he reached out his hand.

You smiled at him and shook his hand. "This guy is Taehyun, don't mind his comments, you won't predict anything that comes out of his mouth," Soobin chuckles, emitting laughter from the other.

"Hi pretty, I'm Yeonjun, you can call me Jjun." You might be a little judgmental, but you think he's a womanizer. Just by how he winks at you—not to mention his wink isn't perfect, both eyelids closing—and also with the aura he's giving off.

"I know what you're thinking. Yeonjun Hyung is really a womanizer," the long-haired guy cackled, receiving some scolding stare and a swat on the shoulder from the Yeonjun guy.

You sweetly smiled at them as Kai pulled you closer to himself and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand almost squeezes your side as he stays silent with only a smile plastered on his face.

"Oww!" The long-haired guy dramatically cries, making you smile. His group of friends are really different from each other, yet there's something that makes them similar.

"I'm Beomgyu, by the way," he finally adds.

"Nice to meet you guys."

As the night wore on, stories poured out—a mix of warmth, and playful banter, and teasing.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he? ”One of his friends, Taehyun, said teasingly, nudging you with a grin. You nodded enthusiastically, believing in the simplicity of your love, as you glanced at Kai who has been laughing with Beomgyu. You haven't seen this side of him yet, and it makes your heart swell. He looks so comfortable with the other boys to the point that he laughs to his heart's content.

Yet as they sipped their drinks, the tone shifted slightly. “But you know he has a possessive side, right?”Soobin, with a playful wink, chimed in. The words sent a flicker of confusion through you. You couldn’t imagine Kai being anything but sweet and loving.

“No way, you guys are just kidding! He's actually gentle,” you laughed, waving the comments away. Kai caught your gaze and smiled, his boyish charm pulling at your heartstrings.

"See?" you motioned, the two older guys shrugging with a wide grin.

The night continued, filled with games and laughter, but the whispers about his “other side” lingered in the back of your mind.

You returned home, feeling conflicted but convinced of your own truth.

Once inside your apartment, you were greeted by the comforting silence of solitude. But the peace was short-lived. Just as you began to relax, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. It was Kai, his presence instantly filling the space with warmth. The guys actually insisted Kai to escort you home as you were already tipsy.

“Hey, I'll be on the couch, okay? Just tell me if you need anything,” he said softly, stepping closer. The way he looked at you made your heart race, but memories of the night still gnawed at your thoughts.

“I had a great time tonight!” You said, forcing a bright smile. “Your friends are… different.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Different? How?”

You hesitated, weighing how to voice what was bothering you. But the flicker of darkness in his gaze made you reconsider. “They just said you have a possessive side.”

His expression shifted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, did they?” He mused, stepping even closer until your back met the wall, the playful tension rising between you.

"But I told them you're just... cute... and gentle... aren't you?" Your fingers fiddled on the silver necklace dangling on his chest.

Yet he moved faster than you could comprehend. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you sit on the drawer just beside your bedroom door, as he pressed against you. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me show you what they mean,” he whispered, a low tone that sent your thoughts spinning. In that moment, the innocence you had associated with him faded into a sultry gaze that spoke volumes.

You wanted to protest, to argue that he was cute, sweet Kai. But as his lips crashed onto yours, all coherent thoughts vanished. Every ounce of confidence you had melted away, and you felt the heat pooling between you, igniting an undeniable spark.

"K-kai..." is the only thing you were able to whisper when he pulled away for a while and lips came back crashing against yours once again. You tugged at his shirt, making sure to keep yourself grounded from everything that's happening. His kisses traveled down your neck, his hands wrapping around your back, slowly unzipping your dress.

"K-kai, please..." Kai felt his cock throbbed from your strained begging voice.

It stirred something inside him. He gently pulled down the flimsy clothing that barely covered your thighs earlier, discarding it on the floor, and leaving you in your bra and panties.

Your hands quickly flew, covering your chest as you turned beet red when he stepped back a little to admire your naked figure. His gaze felt like a black hole sucking you in. "Don't let Yeonjun hyung go anywhere near you, hm?" he warns, his hand reaching out to your face, gently brushing your cheek. "I know him too well."

And it sinks in. The question of why Kai pulled you closer to himself earlier and why he was almost squeezing your side has now been answered. You nodded, your eyes looking for praise from him. And then he moves back closer to you, prying your hands off your chest as he lifts you up and marches his way to your bedroom.

"I'm giving you the chance to stop me right now, pumpkin. I don't want our relationship to go to waste just because of a drunken mistake," he sighs, his huge figure hovering above you.

You shook your head, which made Kai shut his eyes. It seems like he was trying to calm himself.

"Pumpkin-"

"Don't stop, Kai. I need you... Please..." you whined, biting down on your lower lip. It was Kai's last straw—you begging.

He moved with such dominance, guiding the pace and intensity of the moment, the way he manhandled you filled you with a mix of excitement and exhilaration. You were at his mercy, and instead of fear, an overwhelming sense of trust washed over you.

He pulls away, "You're not gonna regret this?" he asked while removing his shirt.

It's not a secret that Kai has a big body build, given that he has a huge frame. But you're not expecting this from him, the guy in front of you is so buff that you almost refuse to believe he's Kai.

He chuckled when he saw your reaction. "Should I pick your jaw from the floor, pumpkin?"

Kai slides his hand under your head before he grabs your hand and lets you touch his firm chest. "Last chance to answer. Are you sure about this?"

"Please Kai. I've been wanting to touch you. To kiss you. To make love with you." Your eyes are glossy from how happy you are. No doubt, he's really a loving and caring boyfriend.

This time, you pulled him, kissing him in the most gentle, loving, and emotional way. His soft lips felt like a cloud on yours. His warm tongue ignites a pit of fire in your stomach. His teeth biting and grazing your lips made you reeling. He pulled away with a string of saliva hanging.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, planting another soft kiss on your forehead. However, you could feel the possessiveness he’d hinted at—the way he claimed you as his, how he sought to leave his marks on your neck and chest. You were a hundred percent sure it would leave marks for a couple of days.

He was a force, the kind of passionate energy you never knew you craved. His touches were both gentle and commanding, and soon you surrendered to the pleasure, allowing him to take control. You don't mind his dominance, right? If anything, you loved it—submitting to your buff boyfriend who's taking the lead.

Your soft mewls and moans made his cock throb once again. And it looks like he's not leaving any part of your body taken for granted.

Your lips were swollen from his kisses. Neck and shoulders littered with hickeys. The soft skin of your arm is filled with love bites. Your mounds slicked with his saliva. Your waist was marked by the tight grip of his hand. Your ass cheeks are red with his spanking. Your plush thighs were marked with how his fingernails dug at your skin. Your gummy walls are clenching on his tongue.

"Kai... K-kai... Hah.. ahh..." You're spent. Yet you're loving how his slimy tongue explored your insides. You gripped his hair, and your soft sobs of pleasure resonated within the enclosure of your room.

He carefully pulled away, licking his lips as he locked his gaze with you. "Wanna know, I don't want to share the same bed with you, pumpkin? Why don't I want to use your room?" Kai tilted his head sideways with a grin.

"W-why?" you pant.

"I can't let you hear me when I touch myself at night. I can't let you see me fuck my fist imagining it's yours. I can't sleep in your room or else I might end up cumming and soiling your bed," he chuckled, his eyes full of desire.

"Kai," you whimpered at the thought as you closed your eyes, imagining everything he just confessed.

"Maybe my friends were right after all, hm?" His fingers started prodding on your entrance. "Maybe I wasn't as innocent as you think, pumpkin. I'm sorry," he mutters, slowly pushing his digits in.

"F-fuck ahh... H-hah, Kai!" You held his wrist as you let out whiny moans. His tongue already made you see a glimpse of heaven. His fingers would totally let you fully see what heaven looks like. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans until you ended up cumming on his fingers without warning.

Too embarrassed, you covered your eyes as you saw his glistening fingers. Sticky and wet at the same time. You heard him let out a soft chuckle before a moan came from him.

You quickly open your eyes, only to him deliciously sucking his fingers with his eyes closed.

"K-kai that's dirty!" You quickly got up to stop him, but he only pulled your thighs and raised them up. Your ass now lifted from the bed as your back was gently bent. He dipped his head down on your sopping cunt as he slurped on your dripping cunt.

It felt dirty. Nasty, even. Yet Kai seems to enjoy eating you out. His eyes filled with lust when he opened them, looking at you as if you were his prey.

"D-do you mind if I p-put it on you?" you stuttered, suggesting to put the condom on him for him.

Kai hums. You quickly reached above, frantically pulling the drawers to grab the pack of condoms you bought three months ago, thinking you were gonna get laid.

He pulled his pants off, his girthy cock slapping on his abdomen, tip leaking from pre-cum.

Kai winces when you slowly roll the condom on his hard cock. The red tip looked as if it was gonna burst anytime. His hand clamped on his mouth as he watched you wrap him up, muffling any noise.

Kai sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard just beside you. "Take a seat," he motioned, tapping his lap.

As a good girlfriend, you gladly obliged. Straddling him and lifting your waist, sinking slowly on his erect cock.

Kai threw his head back, grunting at the tight feeling, gripping your waist and landing a spank on your still red ass. Yelping in pleasure, you forced all the way down, letting him fill your insides with his thickness. You buried your face on his neck as he rubbed your back, cooing at you.

"You're so good to me, baby, so good," he whispers.

He lets you feel the stretch for a little while before slowly bucking his hips up, thrusting agonizingly slow in you. His thrusts start slow and gradually add force and speed.

"Am I still innocent, pumpkin?" He asked as he pushed you away from his body, wrapping his hand around your neck, lightly squeezing it.

"Still your innocent and gentle Kai? Hm?" he taunts, even if you can't form any words to say.

Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air as he tightens his grip on your neck. You tried keeping your body still, holding on both of his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're sexy, h-hah..." he grunts. Your mind is hazy with his words and actions. It felt too much, that you started drooling.

"K-kai... B-baby..." Your words aren't almost heard as you were gasping for air.

"Let's do this often, yeah?" Kai suggested as he rams his cock inside your gummy walls.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #heuning kai's books #kai x reader #kai smut #kai x you #huening kai x reader #heuning kai smut #heuning kai x you #kai imagines #kai scenarios #heuning kai imagines #heuning kai scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours

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trendywaifus · 2 months ago

Note

Cuddles with Jane! She needs to be taken care of, gotta cook food for her since all she eats are snacks. Good food and cuddles and sleepy time and soft kisses to her ears and face

‘saved my soul like jesus!

this was basically the majority of the Jane asks and i’m glad we all agree that she deserves to be pampered and loved. i’ll put this drabble under this ask. each time i came back to this, it got longer and longer. ahem, just to let you know everyone, im one of the jane doe ceos!!! (i’m a good little ceo btw)

more fluffy (maybe even a lil angst with comfort) jane doe asks r welcome for more of these as we wait for part 2 of the jane fic and other stuff.

inspired by glue song. i rec u listen to it while reading this!

if someone were to ask jane years ago if she ever thought about settling into a relationship in the future, she’d laugh and say, “ we’ll have to see. though, i think i’ll be better off on my own given i dedicate the majority of my time to my ‘side jobs’. lastly, it’ll be strange for someone like me to be tied down into a relationship. i’m not exactly the ideal partner someone would want after all. “

years later, at the age of twenty six, here she was, stepping into the security of her own home that was once dark and quiet as a mouse—now bright and smelt like dinner at 2am. the exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders, departs and is left at the door. then here you go, stepping out the kitchen with a heart-warming smile on your face. her tail immediately sways at the sight of you, reactive rodent ears fluttering, and the thin line of her faded, pink lips curls into a soft smile.

“ jane, welcome home! “ you greet her, walking over to your girlfriend and embraced her. since it’s fall transitioning into winter, it’s been getting colder. her coat felt cold to the touch and so did her cheek as you nuzzle it against yours. you almost flinched. she chuckles happily, intertwining her tail around your leg. “ hey, you, “ her smooth voice drips with affection, “ it’s almost three. i thought i told you to not wait for me and sleep. “

you pull back and she does too. jane drapes her arms loosely around your waist. she takes a moment to drink in your features she’s been wishin’ to see all day. honestly, she can’t believe that got the chance to experience love. it’s a pure and wonderful feeling that she chased for during her rough teen years and gave up in her early twenties once she became a specialist. then you suddenly came along, like a flare of light and enlightened her to a path she can never walk alone now. “ i was going to but i didn’t want you to come home hungry. “

she raises a brow, snorting, “ i would of been fine. i could’ve just eaten a few snacks or noodles. you sleeping matters more than my appetite. “

you shake your head, giving her a, are you serious look? you press her more into your body and rest your forehead against hers. “ absolutely not jane. like i told you before, you need to be eating proper food and i’ll make sure of it. i can’t let the woman i love eat unhealthy when she needs to be in top shape for her job. “ you argued. her cobalt eyes flicker with prized endearment. how did she get so lucky?

“ come here. .” she murmurs, leaning in for a kiss and you gladly do. her soft lips felt cold against yours but you don’t care. it’s a gentle caress that doesn’t represent how much she truly missed you. jane will be sure to she kiss you more later as you fully break away from her. “ the food is waiting for you, love. slip off your coat and those boots so you can eat. i’ll meet you at the dining table. “

after she takes off her combat boots, coat, and her pouch, she follows after your steps to the dining room. as promised, you’re sitting at the table, waiting for her to come join you with only a singular plate that consists of her favorite comfort food and a canned cold beverage beside it. “ come, come! “ you wave her over eagerly and she snorts again through her nose. jane sits down next to you and plants a lingering kiss on your cheek as thank you. “ just what i needed at 2am. “ jane jokes playfully, digging into her food.

a protracted, peaceful silence falls between you and jane as she eats.

“ soo, “ you speak up, breaking the silence.

“ hmm? “ jane hums.

“ it’s getting really cold outside and i know a thiren’s ears are sensitive this time around—i was wondering if i can buy you a few pairs of thicker leggings and some ear muffs. i know that ear muffs doesn’t really fit your style but—“

“ i’ll wear them. “ jane simply responds, after swallowing a piece of her food. “ anything you buy, i’ll wear it. . as long as it isn’t too tacky. “

she feels her heart skip a beat when she sees that happy, pretty smile on your face. jane feels like a lovesick man whenever you smile. the warm atmosphere makes her feel belonging, like yeah, this is home and i wish it stays like this forever feeling. you two converse and laugh until jane finishes her late dinner and you take the empty canned beverage and threw it in the trash. you grab her plate and placed it into the sink to clean it.

while you spent a few minutes washing the singular dish and wiping down the counters, the rat thiren sneaks up behind and wraps her arms around your waist for a moment. she buries her reddened nose into your shoulder blade, breathing in your welcoming scent. her tail swishes lowly with satisfaction. “ cuddly at 2am, are we jane? “ your body shudders as you giggled.

she kisses at the side of your nape a few times and sighs with content. “ can you blame me? been missing you all day, baby. hurry up and let’s get ready for bed. i have more of where that came from.”intrigued by her words, you hurried up with your current task to finally get in bed with your girlfriend.

once in the bedroom, you climb into bed while the rat thiren rummages around in her drawer for a simple oversized shirt, and enters inside the bathroom. she turns on the light, briefly lighting up the bedroom before she closes the door. you yawned, adjusting the thick covers over your body. after a little over thirty minutes, jane comes back out in nothing but the over-sized t shirt she picked. even when she wearing just that, she’s breathtaking. “ it took you nearly an hour to put on a shirt? “ you joke, jane rolls her eyes playfully as she gets straight into the bed, under the covers and slides ontop of you. her elbows sink on both sides of your head, thighs press firmly into your hips, straddling you.

“ you’re not taking to account of me undressing myself, wiping off my makeup, and doing my nightly routine. “ jane bends down to your face, lidded, teal eyes staring down at you as they softly glow in the dark. her lips hover over yours, the proximity between you is nearly nonexistent. jane waits for your reply one more time before she can get her kisses in.

“ whatever, “ you murmur, your hands finding purchase on her hips, “ don’t know why you even wear makeup when you already look so gorgeous. can’t even tell the difference when you do. “

a half chuckle escapes her and she finally locks you into a slow, passionate kiss. jane exhales through her nose. now, this is what she wants every night, slow kisses in the dark after a long day of work. your hands run up and down her sides sensually, feeling her perfect curves through the cotton fabric. nails scratch along your scalp while her plump lips languidly move with yours. with each soft kiss, the tender smacks of your lips internally sends jane over the moon. her palm finds your cheek as she deepens one of many kisses shared between you currently. your hands ride under jane’s shirt and scope the gentle arch of her back.

“ mmmm. . “ the rat thiren lets out a drawn-out hum from her chest as the warmth of your palm travels against cool skin. in your arms, she turns puddy and that’s how it should be every time; melting into you. “ don’t want no one else but you. . “ she confesses between kisses under the stillness of the early morning but it’s anything but that with you and her. “ so stay with me. .by me. .“ her honeyed voice is hushed yet fierce in your ears.

“ what makes you think i won’t? “ you inquire softly, drawing loose circles into her back as you held her close.

there’s a small pause before jane replies and she momentarily rests her forehead against yours. she exerts out a soft chuckle that sounds melancholic.

“ . .because you’re too good for me. “

your brows furrow together at that. “ that’s not true, you’re saying that like you don’t deserve me or something. “

she kisses you again but it’s brief. “ i’m saying it like it is, baby. .”

“ and don’t. you deserve everything. . “ you mutter, moving your head a bit to kiss at the corner of her lips, jaw, cheek—everywhere on her face where you can reach. jane’s teeth softly grinds together with contentment, her own rat thiren way of her purring, one of many natural reactions you love to pull from her. “ and of course, i’ll stay with the woman i’m planning on marrying. “

her breath nearly gets caught in her throat. jane quickly recovers and gives you an amused, lop-sided smile. the softness in her eyes shows you how she really feels as clear as day.

“ haha, marry? me? you sure you want to? “ she asks jokingly.

you take one of her hands and brought her ring finger to your lips. “ 16k carat diamond ring. i don’t care if you can’t wear it on your missions, wearing it around me is enough. “

jane doesn’t even reply, instead, she replaces her finger with her lips in a ardent, heady kiss. her hand clasps around the back of your head. you’re too good to her, for her. there is absolutely no chance jane’s letting you slip away from her when you’ve changed the direction of her life in two years. she doesn’t care for marriage but it’s starting to have a nice ring to it now. a woman who lives up to her rat thiren species, who goes from one fake identity to another, and mostly is seen in the shadows of the night—is actually married. .

huh. that’s a funny and interesting thought.

she kisses you until your lips are swollen and your lungs are struggling for air. “ you know i’m not letting you go after this right? “ jane whispers possessively, running a quick thumb over the curvature of your bottom lip, a prominent devoted look in her half-lidded eyes as they bore into yours.

“ wouldn’t have it any other way, future wife. “

it’s your turn to be in awe with jane’s warm, breathtaking smile. she rests her head on your chest, legs tangling with yours as she finally stops straddling you. her body weight over yours grounds you. your arms tighten around her frame, holding her close to your chest.

a few minutes pass and it’s just you occasionally planting soft kisses to the crown of her head while she traces nonexistent shapes into your side with a delicate finger.

“ you should sleep, jane. don’t you work in several hours? “

“ oh, i forgot to tell you. .i’m actually off. “ jane mutters, her smooth voice beginning to sound tired and soft. you break out into a happy smile and firmly squeezed jane into you, pulling a quiet squeak from her.

“ you’re off, babe? that means we can sleep in together! more morning kisses and cuddles with my beautiful woman! “ you squealed, following up with a angelic laugh that sounds like music to jane’s ears. she giggles into your chest and finally closes her eyes.

i’m glad i’m yours.

“ i love you. “ jane murmurs under her breath, allowing sleep to finally overwhelm her consciousness.

jane peacefully falls asleep in the arms of someone who loves her back.

#trendy #jane doe x reader zzz #jane doe x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

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tragedybunny · 1 year ago

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Sunlight and Stars in the Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

I've been at this so long I'm not even sure if it is any good, but it's as finished as it will get I suppose. It ventured into angst a little more than I had planned and I'm thinking there may be a part two. But anyway, here's the end up with the nicknames they use for each other in my other fics.

The Githyanki Creche is not the promised salvation and you deal with it by trying to drink your problems away. Astarion ends up taking care of you and starts to deal with his feelings and the fallout of his actions.

Unsteady footsteps came up behind him as he stood by the dying fire, in another life that would make you a perfect target. “‘Starion,” you said in a little sing-song voice from behind him.

“Yes, my Sweet,” turning, he’s already wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. From the footsteps he could tell you’d been drinking. The Githyanki Creche hadn’t turned out to be the salvation you had hoped for. Some of your companions were taking it worse than others, Lae’zel was in her tent, talking to no one, and you, you were piss drunk.

“I hate this,” you lean into his chest and despite the grim reality, he feels an odd sense of contentment.

“I’m sure nobody is particularly enjoying the moment but-” He was cut off as your lips started to kiss their way along his collarbone.

“You know what could make it better…” Teeth suddenly nip him and he jumps involuntarily while you giggle, you put him on edge lately for some reason. “A quick little tumble in the bedroll.”

Just the thought of taking you in this state of inhibition, so little control over yourself, makes his stomach turn. A small part of him asks if you ever have control given his lies, viciously he kicks that part back down. “Not tonight, my little Snack, you are far too drunk.”

The pout you reply with is impressive. “Aw, don’t you like me anymore?” Despite your clear inebriation, the words are like a blow and he’s lost for a moment.

“Of course I do.” Instinctively, he pulls you closer, only for your fingers to start fumbling with his trousers. Gently he takes your hands and holds them away from himself. “Alright, I think it's clear you need some water and to lay down."

"I'm fine." You push away from him and wobble dangerously before ending up on your butt in the dirt. "Ow," dejectedly, you stay where you landed until your shoulders quiver and he worries tears are next.

Sighing, he reaches down and scoops you up in his arms, looking you over to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "How about a deal Darling," he can't believe what he's about to say, "you agree to lay down nicely and get some sleep and I'll let you stay in my tent tonight?"

"Really? You never…" The two of you have never shared space for more than a perfunctory few minutes after sex, and usually Astarion very much prefers it that way. But you're a drunk emotional mess and you just seem to need him and that small part of him that he keeps pushing away wants to help you. "I don't want to, gods what's the word, im-im-"

"Impose?" The way you nod silently without looking up plants a strange sensation in his chest. "Don't be silly, you're my partner aren't you? How could you be imposing?" Softly he kisses your forehead and starts toward his tent.

As he settles you gingerly among his blankets you look around with wide eyes as though surprised to be here. "It's so red," you giggle before slowly laying back and staring at him as he gently removes your boots.

At least you had ceased your attempt at erotic pursuits for the moment. "I'll get you some water, you need to stay up long enough to drink it."

It only takes a few moments for him to retrieve your waterskin from your tent and return to find your eyes shut. He takes a brief second to just watch the way your chest rises and falls and the sublimely peaceful expression on your face. "Sweetheart," kneeling down next to you, he holds out the waterskin, "you need to drink some water."

Eyes slowly open and you sit up, making a little whining noise. "Fine." Taking the waterskin, you drink most of it in one go before lying back on your side facing him. "Happy?"

Your sudden aggressive tone makes him chuckle, of course he's seen you fight, but right now you're as threatening as a lost kitten. "You'll feel better for it in the morning, I promise."

"Mmm," already your eyes are closing again. "Lay next to me?"

The soft plea feels irresistible despite knowing he's feeding you another pretty lie and he shouldn't encourage this. If only you weren't so damnably kind to him all the time; his sweet sunny little half-elf, even from the moment you met, trying to help a stranger kill an Intellect Devourer; he wouldn’t feel so odd about everything. You’d fed him when he’d tried to bite you during your sleep, stood up for him after, protected him from the Gur, and listened to every rant and complaint with an open mind. Even during sex, you tried so hard to please him, to make him feel good too, readily experimenting with anything new, and offering up your throat time and again. The mask must have slipped a few times because once you’d very embarrassedly asked him after the act if you were a bad lover. He’d tried so hard to reassure you he was just having a bad day, afterall, it wasn’t your fault he couldn’t feel the same pleasure, but you still looked so sad for a long while afterward.

Cuddling up close to you, he wraps you both in his blankets, arms enfolding you, and can’t help but notice how perfectly you fit next to him, head tucked under his chin, like you were made to be there. Gods, what’s wrong with him? He lays a delicate kiss on the sensitive little tip of your pointed ear and you hum contendly. “Happy now, my little bit of Sunlight?” The pet name slips off his tongue, surprising even himself.

“Does that still mean I’m irritating,” you mumble softly and he puzzles over it before remembering.

Another moment of kindness from you. One of the first days after the Nautiloid, he’d seated himself so far away from everyone at the campfire, he was practically in the shadows when you came to sit next to him. “You can come closer to the fire Astarion, you don’t have to keep so separate.”

“I’m fine,” he’d snapped at you, panicking that anyone was so near to him so soon after escaping Cazador’s endless cruelty. Your mouth opened to answer back and he’d cut you off. “I said I’m fine, hells, you’re as irritating as the scorching summer sunlight.” You’d backed off but not before he’d seen the hurt in your eyes. The compliment feels as though it turned to ash in his mouth at the memory, he wishes he could take that night back. There's a lot of moments from those first days he wishes the same of.

“That was a very strange couple of days for me,” his fingers find your hair of their own accord and start brushing through it. “But no, I mean you’re bright and warm and beautiful,” and not meant for creatures like me, he adds silently. “Like Sunlight.”

Eyes opening, you tilt your head back to look up and study him for a moment, unexpectedly lucid. “And you're as wondrous and amazing as the whole night sky full of stars, and worth any bit of darkness.”

The words leave him stunned as you close your eyes and settle back against him. “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, my Starry Sky,” you punctuate it with a kiss on his neck before drifting back in your half-asleep state.

There's an urge to retch and cry at the same time, what a farce he’s made of your affection. He holds you tighter, as if that could undo any of what he’s done. You deserve the truth, he knows that, but not tonight, because once you know, you'll despise him. A few more days, to soak you up, just like sunlight, and then he’ll slip back into the darkness he deserves, where there’s nothing to warm him.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader #my fanfic #my writing

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seeingivy · 11 months ago

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picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

dear head of the cullen clan, keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic. coldest regards, the head of the volturi (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.) (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.)

you snort.

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???), so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes. first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak. second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy??? third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient see u after work pookie :D, carlisle cullen (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.)

his response back is very prompt.

Never call me pookie again. (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.)

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here.

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now.

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one.

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him.

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind.

“hey. i’m sorry i-”

“jesus fuck-”

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you.

“i’ll use it, you pervert!”

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment.

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–”

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!”

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle.

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.”

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand.

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him.

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket.

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?”

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade.

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur.

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks.

“what?”

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…”

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him.

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out.

you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds.

“thanks! you too!”

he narrows his eyes.

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.”

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask.

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.”

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life.

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you.

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling.

“you did research for a date?”

“you can choke on your spit.”

you grin.

“you really know how to turn a girl on.”

“you’re filthy.”

you grin.

“and you’re actually so precious, i–”

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead.

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one.

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask.

he sneers.

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds.

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.”

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.”

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.”

sukuna scoffs.

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.”

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond.

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”

you snort.

“and you say you’re not a pervert…”

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him.

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers.

you grin, leaning in.

“is that right?” you whisper back.

“oh yeah. you irritate me.”

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them.

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek.

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead.

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation.

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over.

“are you crazy?” you whisper.

“what?” he asks.

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.”

sukuna leans back, obliging.

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?”

“oh, shut up.”

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap.

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too?

“sukuna. you didn’t–”

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds.

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile.

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star.

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it.

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.”

“you are so…”

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?”

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond.

sukuna grins.

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds.

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done.

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond.

“and how’s that?”

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.”

sukuna smiles.

“obviously.”

you jab at his side.

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.”

“okay, captain obvious. and?”

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.”

sukuna scoffs.

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.”

“hey! that’s not true.”

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.”

you curl your nose.

“worms?”

“yeah. what were you going to paint?”

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.”

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.”

“sukuna.” you whine.

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on his chest.

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek.

“you just get me, princess!”

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek.

“and i have to do special things for a special person.”

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same.

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond.

sukuna shrugs.

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.”

you groan.

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward.

“you know, you actually do though.”

“as if.” you groan.

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier.

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?”

“yeah.”

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.”

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face.

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke.

“you’re disgusting.”

“you love it.”

sukuna smiles.

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.”

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.”

you frown.

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.”

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.”

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face.

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.”

“i mean, i think i have an idea.”

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes.

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing.

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you.

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too.

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter.

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research.

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help.

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

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heys0ulmate · 3 months ago

Text

veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

#sofia falcone x reader #sofia gigante x reader #sofia falcone #sofia gigante #nsft #the penguin

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago

Note

ok im listening to a spencer reid playlist and "marry me" by bruno mars came on and all i can imagine is its like a week or so after spencer had proposed, and he comes home to reader dancing/singing to the song while cleaning or baking. i would love to see this as a fic 🥺

Sneak Peek

Summary: Spencer comes home from a case to find his new fiancée, Reader, in rare form.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, kinda sunshine/grump

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Here ya go, babes 🩵

Finally, Spencer thinks when he sees his front door. For work, hours on the jet to and from Quantico don’t take as much of a toll on him as one would expect. Passing the hours with debriefs, cards, reading, and sleeping is something he’s grown accustomed to for years at the B.A.U.

This week, however, was different. Before this last-minute case in Cheyenne, Spencer popped the question to you (with the team’s help with set-up and delivery). Of course you said yes. He barely had time to fish the ring from his blazer pocket before you burst out with your answer. But you barely got to enjoy the first 24 hours of being engaged before the team was called to Wyoming the next morning.

But now, it’s Saturday, so that means you’re home. He can already hear music on the other side of the door when he twists his key. Quite an upbeat tune, unusual for your typical taste. While he sticks to classical composers, normally you’re drawn to calm acoustic songs with minimal production. But what he hears when he opens the door is pure pop.

He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the apartment, as the familiar scent of home hit him with the smell of something in the oven. You never cook. And you never bake. But Spencer knows what fresh cookies smell like. He followed the sources, rounding the wall that divided the entryway from the kitchen. And there was when his heart skipped a beat. You were there, in a dress, dancing and singing along with the lively tune, completely immersed in a housewife experience of your own making.

This is nothing but out of character for you. You and Spencer regularly put work first before anything. It is expected in your fields that you prioritize work over each other at times. So your wardrobe was mostly pantsuits and black pumps. Prentiss often gave you suggestions on where to shop for your go-to outfits. Which is why Spencer was so stunned to find you in a dress, flowing around your calves as you twirled on the tile floor. Your hair swayed with every movement, and the joy in your eyes was infectious. The room seemed to come alive with the energy you were exuding.

He drank it in, marveling at the happiness radiating from his fiancée. He didn’t think simply clearing his throat would be noticeable. But it was. And suddenly, your batter-doused whisk/makeshift microphone became your weapon of choice. “Spencer!” You exclaimed.

Spencer put his hands up in immediate surrender, his heart momentarily pounding for a different reason. “Woah, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

Your footing in the small space caused you to lose the rhythm of the music as you stumbled. Your socks gave you little friction, but Spencer was quick to save you from mild embarrassment. Granted, his degrees and experience in profiling didn’t exactly prepare him for impromptu dance saves, but he caught you with surprising grace.

“Careful there,” he teased, still holding onto you. “The team will have some choice words with me if they find bruises on you, no matter where they came from.”

You scoffed. “Wow, bruises. So romantic. What a way to greet your future wife.”

Spencer shrugged before lifting you back to your feet, making sure your feet were stable before letting his hands slide from your shoulders. They glided down to your palms as he extended your arms out. “Well, I can certainly say your greeting exceeds mine by miles.” He looks up and down at your dress; a plain green that hugged you at the waist. “I didn’t know you owned any dresses.”

“Hm.” You said. Your hands rolled with his, urging your fingers to link. “I managed to slip something past the genius in this house. Guess you’re not as observant as I thought.”

Spencer’s brows rose as his jaw dropped, instantly ready to roll with this. Sarcasm was something he had to pick up quickly with you, as it’s your default tone. And you have yet to stray after three years. “I’m observant.” The shock translates through his response.

“Clearly not as much as you like to think.” You untangle one of your hands from his and it creeps to cup his cheek, rough with little stubble. “Barely a week of being engaged and you’re already slipping.” You click your tongue as you shake your head.

“I’m very observant. I notice a lot, thank you.” He pulls you close. His now free hand snaking around your waist, just letting your noses brush. He notices how your mouth opens slightly, expecting a kiss as your exhale grazes his upper lip. He was planning to kiss you then and there, and whatever happened next, he was more than happy with.

But you called him out. So now he has to prove you wrong.

“You didn’t sweep up all the flour off the floor.”

Your eyes were half-open, one of the most vulnerable looks he gets to see. But it fizzles as the information clicks in your head. “What?”

“Your socks.” He gestures down to them.

And you look. Black socks were definitely not the wisest choice.

“How many times did you screw up the cookies?” He asked.

“I didn’t screw them up… too much.”

Spencer’s brow quirked.

“Just more flour than the recipe called for. But only because the bag was so difficult to open.”

So, you spilled it. But he kept that part quiet, as you were already turning pink. “How much salt did you use?” He asks instead. Because he’s not above being too gracious.

“Not much.” You bit your lips closed. “Just the standard amount.”

“The standard amount? Did you throw some over your shoulder for luck?” He brushes some grains he spots sticking to your collarbone.

You were still pink, and Spencer could feel the heat rise off your skin. “We… may need to get more sugar from the store.”

“What did you—”

“Not important. The cookies will be ready in three minutes. So, do you want cookies or not?”

“Hm,” He says, eyes glued to your shoulder again. “So if this is sugar…” And he leans down to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm against your skin as it scales across the center of your clavicle. His lips brush them before leading up to your neck.

“This is the greeting I expected.” You say.

“Oh, really?” He follows the pulse point that he’s learned makes your knees equivalent to jelly. When he kisses there, but doesn’t let his teeth scrape the delicate skin just yet. He closes his eyes, to get lost in the moment, in you, a bit faster. The excuse of sugar on your skin has long been exhausted, but you indulged regardless, indisputable by the small sounds that escape you as he kisses more. The arm that holds your waist braces to take on your weight when he nips.

And down you go. But he catches you. Once again

“Does my future wife expect more?”

You say nothing. You swallow dryly, but Spencer understands that as a yes from you. He keeps you both still. Nipping again while his other hand takes free range around your dress. It makes you mewl, and he’s close to hoisting you to bed.

“The cookies—” You remind him. “Can’t let them burn. The timer says—mm—two minutes.”

“I have plenty to keep me occupied for two minutes.”

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samantitaswrld · 7 months ago

Text

you know me

description: ron and reader being friends, they both know it looks so weird of them to be so touchy when they’re just friends but they both love the physical affection and connection they have…what’s so wrong with that?

paring: ron weasley x reader

contains: song fic, fluff, friendship, lowk fwb…except it’s just platonic lol. for now..

song: juna by clairo.

w.c: 974

|an: kinda a self indulgent fic but i hope you guys love it too! i love love love ron and ive had this idea for a while, part two is going to be smutty.

part one part two

come to me slowly

it's when you talk close enough

that is feel it on my skin

breathe it in

your best friend. that’s all he was really; at least that’s what you thought. there had always been a lingering feeling, a what-if that always crossed your mind, but that thought was always pushed back into the back of your head. you and ron were friends, nothing more, nothing less.

little did you know, he felt the same. you were one of the most important people in his life; he would put you up there with family. you both meant a great deal to each other. sure, there were some wishful thoughts, but no, he couldn’t as much as he wanted it. you were just friends, nothing more, nothing less.

most of these days

i don't get too intimate

why would i let you in?

but i think again

everybody knows, but you two—i mean, it’s obvious. anyone with a pair of working eyes could see that you and ron shared an inseparable type of love, more than that of just friends. you did everything together and spent all your time together. you eat right beside him, your shoulders always touching for every meal, laughing and making jokes. be never fails to walk you to all your classes. you study together, do your homework together, ditch classes together, spend hogsmeade trips together—everything.

you and ron were also no strangers to physical affection; after all, it’s the reason you met.

third-year care for magical creatures class, the day the two of you met. you’d always been a little scared of the mythical creatures that inhabited the wizarding world; they were untelling and unpredictable.

“isn’t he beautiful?” hagrid bellowed as buckbeak strutted forward from behind him, making an animalistic shriek and catching the piece of meat hagrid threw at him into his mouth. everyone stepped back in fear to avoid being anywhere close to the creature; you were especially terrified.

the second buckbeak shrieked, you gripped the arm of the person next you, who just so happened to be ron, of whom had never had a woman touch him like this before, until now.

bloody hell, he thought to himself, his cheeks reddening and his breath faltering. for some reason, your touch felt good to him. in fact, he didn’t want you to let go until you did.

“oh my god! i’m so sorry, im such a chicken sometimes i really-" You’d blabbered, face reddening until he interrupted you.

“It’s okay, really. bloody thing gave me a bit of a fright too.” he said it with a slight chuckle at the end, which tugged the corners of your mouth into a grin. from then on, you became inseparable.

i don't even try

i don't have to think

with you, there's no pretending

it’s been two, almost three years now, and you know each other inside and out. you were now seated in your favorite spot which just so happened to be the couch in front of the fireplace in the gryffindor common room; you’d spend a lot of time there with him. talking, laughing, studying…holding hands, cuddling...his arm draped along your shoulder as he listened to you complain about your recent potions assignment. which you two considered casual, everybody else didn’t.

“he’s practically on top of her! pay up already!” fred exclaimed in a hushed whisper to george as they peaked from behind the staircase at the couple.

to which george rolled his eyes, “yeah, but they always do this; it’s really nothing new. you know that.” fred had an annoyed expression now plastered on his face, silence telling as he continued to watch the scene in front of him unfold.

you know me, you know me

and i just might know you too

come to me ready

you two knew people thought it was weird, but for you guys, it was just comfort. It was providing a sense of security; you were just showing your love for each other! what’s so wrong with that?

you’d blabbered on about how you were so sick of snape and his big dumb stupid assignments that you couldn’t stand any longer. ron was listening, of course he was listening. he always listened to you, but today he was more focused on you than your ranting. he was focused on the way your lips moved while you spoke, the beauty marks that detailed your face so delicately, the slope of your nose, the way your thick eyelashes fanned across your eyelids, and the way your eyebrows creased in frustration as you read out snape's rubric for his newest assignment.

“i mean, it’s ridiculous! look at this, ron. he wants—“ you started, but were cut off by ron’s own statement.

“you really are beautiful, you know.” he didn’t even register what he said until the words escaped his lips, but he wasn’t scared, nor was he shy around you. he knew you. he knew the time was right; this was the moment he had been subconsciously waiting for.

a slight blush crept on your cheeks as you smiled, cupped his right cheek with your hand, and gave him a kiss on the other. “thanks ron. you don’t look too bad yourself, you know.”

he laughed and unwrapped his arm from around your shoulders to give you a slight push, knowing it would get you going.

“oh, you’re in for it now.” you’d stated, bringing your legs up from the couch and kneeling on the cushions below you to shove him with both hands, using all your might to knock him over.

he hardly moved; despite your efforts, he let out an “oh, am i?" and nothing more before wrapping his arms around your waist and roughly laying you out on the couch, as he brought his hands up to begin tickling your sides.

“oh! really?” you gasped, "you think i don’t have siblings too? don’t make me start kicking weasley,” you’d stated in between breaths.

he stopped at once, raising his arms up in a defeated manner, “okay. okay. you win.”

“that’s what I thought.” you’d said catching your breath. you didn’t realize it, but in this moment, ron was sure of something he never thought he would be so sure of in his life.

#ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #george weasley #fred weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #weasley twins #fanfic #fanfiction #ron weasley imagine

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snooyaki · 1 year ago

Text

𓂃.ᐟ 𖦹 MOTH TO A FLAME

paring ୨୧ : taesan x female reader

genre ୨୧ : angst

warnings ୨୧ : taesan is an ass, alcohol, aggressive makeout, cussing

wc ୨୧ : 2669

a/n : im back w a taesan fic FINALLYYY!! pls listen to this song while reading!! moth to a flame by the weeknd is what inspired me! hope u all enjoy 💋

all your friends say hes the one, his love for you is true.

SHE COULD NOT STOP thinking about the way his hands cupped her face, smashing his soft plush lips against hers as they kissed roughly to the point it left her lips all swollen and bruised the next morning.

or the feeling of his fingertips grazing over her waist before giving it a tight squeeze as he pressed her up against the wall, nipping at the thin skin of her neck.

god, y/n could think about him all day long.

“y/n! you should totally go for him!”

y/n snapped out of her daydreams, her eyes trailing from the wall, to her friend who sat in front of her. the girl blinked a few times, realization slowly hitting her.

she had just dozed off for the third time that day. she needed to get a hold of herself.

y/n rubbed the nape of her neck with a soft embarrassed chuckle, tilting her head to the side with slight shame.

“sorry … what are we talking about again..?”

wonyoung groaned as she rolled her eyes in annoyance. “hellooo, we’re talking about myeong jaehyun!” she reminded, her lips pouted slightly as she frowned at you not listening to her.

right, the upperyear myeong jaehyun. the captain of the soccer team and the school’s sweetheart. y/n’s friends had been trying hard to set the two up after finding out that jaehyun had just a little crush on you, a little meaning a lot.

you were pretty, kind, and lit up a room with your warm smile. how could myeong jaehyun not fall for a girl like you?

despite all the attention she received at school, she showed no interest in any of the boys around her. sure jaehyun was good looking, played soccer, and had such a good personality, but y/n showed little to no interest in the soccer boy. the girl’s friends had always wondered why, but never wondered because of who.

“he obviously likes you y/n, why dont you just give it a shot?” minji piped in, finally lifting her nose out of her book she had been hooked on for days.

y/n shook her head with a sigh, reaching into her bag to bring out the compact mirror she planned on using to make herself look “busy”.

“im not interested in myeong jaehyun.” you stated, staring at the three girls surrounding you before opening up your mirror as your eyes scanned your face.

the lipstain was rubbing off, slightly revealing your bruised lips. y/n had decided to wear a darker plum coloured lip shade in attempts to hide the bruising. it seemed to be doing a good job considering none of her friends had noticed. at least the concealer covering your dark hickey was holding up.

“but y/nnn! myeong jaehyun is so good for you, hes perfect!” sullyoon beamed excitedly, her eyes watching as you swipe the soft applicator across your bottom lip while concentrating on your reflection in the mirror.

“cant talk, busy.” you mutter, causing all three girls to let out an exasperated groan.

“myeong jaehyun huh? i agree.”

y/n knit her eyes brows as she gazed up, only wishing she hadnt. it wasn’t odd for him to show up whenever y/n was hanging out with her friends. his best friends, jungwon and leehan, were friends with hers, wonyoung and sullyoon. but no matter how many times she could see him in a day, she would always be taken by surprise.

“see, even jungwon agrees.” minji sighed, shaking her head as the three boys came to sit with the girls.

y/n felt a shiver go down her spine seeing him take a seat diagonally across from her, fighting every urge she had to not look his way.

“jaehyun is a good guy, right taesan?”

leehan nudged his friends shoulder to get his attention, watching as the boy shrugged his shoulders with a disinterested nod. “hes alright.”

“y/n, hey!”

speak of the devil.

the group look up to be met with none other than a smiling myeong jaehyun, whos attention was all on you. it took your friends everything in them to not stop squealing, hitting each other in excitement.

y/n smiled lightly back at the male, slowly scooting down in her seat to make room for the other. “hi jaehyun, no soccer practice today?” you question as the male takes a seat next to you happily.

jaehyun shakes his head like an obedient puppy, gazing at you with nothing but love in his eyes. “not today, i thought id come see you.” he chuckled, as you lightly smile in response.

“so cute ….” wonyoung whispered to minji next to her as they fangirled at the sight of you two together.

no one seemed to notice the smirk playing over taesans lips, as he watched you and jaehyun interact closely, and carefully.

no one seemed to notice but you.

ೀ

but does he know you call me when he sleeps?

“so, myeong jaehyun huh?”

you roll his eyes at the mention of his name, running a hand through your hair as you flipped onto your stomach, laying on the bed with your feet in the air.

“dont mention his name, taesan.” the girl sighed, resting her chin against the palm of her hand.

you could hear taesans sinister chuckle on the other side of the line. you can just see the stupid smirk he has on his face.

“why? i wanna talk about it.” taesan hummed in response.

“does he know about me?”

y/n shook her head with a light huff. in all honesty, you were a bit upset at taesan. y/n didn’t know why or how she ended up on the phone with him at 1:16 am. but thats how every night went. well, those nights they werent together.

but does he know the pictures that you keep?

y/n had been spending her night peacefully on her bed, soft music playing from her speakers as she scrolled through her phone aimlessly, before finding herself going through her photos. more specifically, the photos you and taesan had taken together the morning after a steamy night. all bundled in your bedsheets, naked, and holding each other close.

thats how you found your way to the phone app, pressing on taesans contact.

in all honesty, you were upset at him after finding him in the washroom of a party kissing another girl. after catching him you two broke out in a huge fight. its not the first time it had happened. you two were nothing but friends with benefits. but of course, as always someone catches feelings within that relationship. that someone was you.

“im not talking about this with you taesan.” you reply shortly, and bluntly. taesan could tell you were upset.

“are you still upset?” taesan questioned in a taunting and irritated tone. that was enough to get you all riled up again.

“i dont know, you tell me.” she spat viciously, hearing a scoff coming from the male on the other line.

“oh dont start-“

“you were supposed to be with me that night!” you shouted at him, your hands catching a hold on one of your stuffed animals as you squeezed it to your chest for comfort, sitting up from your laid position before taking a deep breath, “but no, like the dick you are you just had to be fucking another girl when you told me you would stick by me that night- you know what i dont know why i trusted you. this always fucking happens with you!!” y/n finally concluded, feeling herself get choked up with tears at the end.

but does he know the reasons that you cry?

you were crying again. crying all because of han taesan.

“the fuck did i tell you that night, y/n?” taesan spat, causing you to almost flinch from the venom dripping from his voice.

“stop acting like we’re dating.”

y/n held her breath at his words. right. they weren’t dating. she had somehow forgot that when spilling out her emotions just now.

“youre really fucking annoying, you know that? god. we arent even dating and you’re just so suffocating.” taesan groaned.

his words hit her like a stone. tears were spilling from her eyes as she tried her best to keep quiet. she could not let han taesan hear her cry, although she knew he knew.

“we’re over taesan. i fucking mean it.” your shaky voice concluded. you couldnt take it anymore. you needed to be free from satan himself.

“baby, there wasnt even a beginning to start with.”

“go to hell.” you growled, ready to just hang up the phone before taesan had spoke, causing you to pause in your tracks.

“no matter how much love he gives you, you’ll always come back.” taesans voice spoke eerily, causing you to run a hand through your hair frustratedly, a sniffle coming from you as you continued to silently sob.

you knew it was true.

“you’ll never escape me.”

ೀ

buzz, buzz, buzz!

y/n’s phone would not stop buzzing as the girl stared at the device that lay on her bed in distress. no. you couldnt. you cant answer that damn phone.

you could not give in to han taesan this time.

“y/n!” sullyoon, snapping y/n out of her thoughts as she gazed her attention up towards the girl appearing from out of her closet. “should i wear this tonight?” the girl questioned, as she smiled, nodding her head in approval.

“you’ll look so pretty yoon.” you hummed, as she nodded her head retreating back into the closet.

it had been two weeks since your last argument with taesan over the phone, and two weeks since you last spoke to him.

it had never went on for that long. y/n was scared. no matter how badly taesan treated her, she was scared of losing him.

so, she decided to spend a lot more time with jaehyun.

she knew it was wrong, using jaehyun to get over taesan, as well as get back at him. all of her friends approved of this sudden change. they really believed jaehyun was the perfect guy for her.

“your boyfriend is the best y/n, tell him thanks for getting us into this party.” minji hummed, focusing as she dabbed eyeshadow onto her eyelid.

y/n shook her head with a soft sigh and an eyeroll as she sat at her vanity, gazing into the mirror and lightly curling her hair.

“hes not my boyfriend.”

“yet.” wonyoung intervened, spritzing perfume on her neck before looking at you. “not your boyfriend yet.” she snickered.

after an eternity y/n and the girls had finally finished getting ready, making their way inside the huge house party as the booming music rang through their ears.

“oh! guys its jaehyun- y/nnn its jaehyunnn!” wonyoung slurred, as minji and sullyoon squealed in excitement.

maybe you four went a little hardcore during your pregame.

“hey … you guys okay?” jaehyun chuckled lightly, eyes widening at the sight of you stumbling.

jaehyun quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying your balance. you, drunk and in heels was not a good combination.

y/n’s red face gazed up at jaehyun, a tipsy smile playing over her lips. “jaehyun!” she cheered, wrapping her arms around the males neck latching onto him with her dear life.

jaehyun was flustered. it was her first time making physical contact with him. although you were drunk, he loved it.

“hey y/n,” jaehyun chuckled, snaking his arm around your waist as he gazed down at you with a blush over his cheeks. “come on, lets get you some water.” jaehyun suggested, guiding you through the busy crowd.

“no!” you exclaimed, grabbing jaehyuns hand before dragging him with much force towards the dance floor. “come on, lets dance.”

it didnt take much for jaehyun to give in, and forget about grabbing the drunken girl a cup of water. here he was, dancing with you on the dance floor as your bodies pressed against each other from the crowd.

you knew he was watching.

there taesan stood, a drink in his hand as he leaned up against the kitchen doorway, watching you and jaehyun like a hawk. his grip on his red solo cup grew tighter, and tighter as he watched you and jaehyun get closer, and closer.

he didnt know why he was so upset. taesan swore he only liked y/n for casual hookups. but no, with the feeling of jealousy raising inside of him, he didnt have time to think and reason with himself.

“hey, han. you okay?” a voice spoke, although not catching taesans attention whatsoever as his eyes remained on the pair.

taesan downed his drink in one harsh gulp, wiping the alcohol spilling from the sides of his mouth before throwing his cup aside.

“im fine.” he stated coldly, fiercely making his way towards you.

taesan shoved past the crowd aggressively causing others to stumble at the determination. the boy grabbed jaehyun’s shoulder, pulling him away from you with much force.

“hey- what the fuck man??” jaehyun shouted, displeased. but it didnt phase taesan, who was busy staring down at the girl.

“youre coming with me.” he growled, causing you to raise your eyebrows in shock.

taesan grabbed your wrist, making his way through the crowd as he yanked you with him.

“hey!- hey taesan- ow! stop!!” you shouted, although taesan paid no attention to your discomfort.

or tell me does he know where your heart lies?

y/n took a deep breath of crisp air when finally out of the crowd, gazing around curiously in attempt to identify where they were headed.

“slow down tae!” you exclaim, drunkly struggling to keep up with his pace.

it all happened so fast.

taesan grabbed the bathroom door, yanking it open as he pulled you inside and shoved you up against the wall. the taller then slammed his hands on either side of your head, causing a small flinch.

you would be lying if you said you hadn’t found this action deadly attractive.

“what the fuck was that stunt you pulled over there?” taesan questioned, cocking his head to the side in a taunting way.

“what are you talking about? why does it matter to you.” y/n hissed back, gazing into taesans eyes daringly.

your reply only infuriated him more, lifting a hand from the wall as he harshly grabbed your face, a sound in surprise escaping past your glossed lips.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.”

with that, taesans lips came crashing down onto yours. the two shared a heated, yet passionate and longing kiss. a kiss full of desire, and desperation. it was different from all your other kisses. a good different.

“i want you, y/n. shit i want you so bad.” taesan muttered into the kiss as you felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

god this boy will be the death of you.

taesan wrapped his free arm around your waist, grazing and touching you as much as he could as his hand landed on your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. y/n knit her eyebrows, moaning into the messy kiss and arching her back in response.

“then have me. for real.” you replied, causing him to pull away. your eyes trailed down to his swollen lips, seeing your tinted lip gloss smeared all over his chin. it was quite a sight to see.

taesan stood quiet, his heavy eyes gazing into the girls as nothing but the muffled booming music and their heavy breaths echoing through their ears.

“youre mine, l/n y/n.” taesan finally stated. “youre mine, and no one else’s. you hear me?” the male spoke, his hand tugging your face closer to his.

y/n nodded in response, a playful smile over her lips. “i hear you han taesan.”

where it truly lies.

— nari ¨̮

#ˋ ୨୧ ˊTAGS !

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