#also the way you can’t even name one song…you did not listen

[iwatcheditbegin]

Idk if I was forced to sit in the nosebleeds at sofi I’d be keeping my mouth shut about ttpd and anything Taylor.

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[spliffymae]

rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

[dumplingsjinson]

List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)

“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 

“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 

“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”

“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”

“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”

“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 

“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 

“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 

“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 

“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”

“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 

“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”

“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”

“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 

“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 

“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 

“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 

“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”

“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”

“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 

“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”

“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 

“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 

“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”

“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 

“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”

“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”

“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”

“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 

“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 

“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”

“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 

“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”

“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”

“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”

“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 

“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”

“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”

“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”

“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”

“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 

(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)

[heartsteel-heartbeats]

Heartsteel Kayn relationship HCs!

No warnings for this one, you may proceed.

(( Psst! Hey! It’s not explicitly listed that you are also a performer, but you are free to assume that! I like leaving stuff open for ya. Also I may have gone a bit overboard… Sorry! )) ~ OBBY 💗

Before Heartsteel

You’ve been with him before he was kicked out of his old band (maybe even well before he started his music career), so of course, Rhaast was no secret to you. He never was, really. You actually liked Rhaast and loved seeing him just go crazy and do what he wanted without much of a care of the consequences. Kayn figured this is why he was initially drawn to you, because you accepted this part of him.

His band was pretty much the opposite. They held him back extensively because of Rhaast. The situation itself and seeing him lash out time to time made you worried on how much more he could stand being with that group. Some days, you just let him rant to you. You don’t know much on the other members in general besides their names and their roles in the band, but seeing him so frustrated because of them felt like maybe it’s best if you didn’t.

When Kayn did get kicked out, you let him stay around for a bit. A bit eventually became a while. Totally weren’t preparing for this, you made sure there was plenty of room for him. An artist needs his own space after all, though he didn’t exactly pick up his guitar for some time.

It’s been rough for Kayn for a while. He was getting easily irritated over the smallest things and seemed to often get into fights online. You’ve had to keep him off social media more than once before he really made things worse for himself. His reputation has taken quite a hit when he was kicked out, so this was for the best if it means he doesn’t damage further by doing something stupid.

Rhaast, on the other hand, was a bit harder. Rhaast liked to leave a mark, mostly in a physical sense. There were times where you had to stop him from actually getting into serious trouble. It was hard to talk him out of it and sometimes you had to keep him from walking out that door. Doing such a thing did make you feel bad since you’re holding him back almost like his old band did with him, so there were times where you hesitated. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows you’re just worried about his wellbeing.

When he finally did pick up his guitar again, the songs he made were quite clearly targeted towards his old band. Rhaast was going all out and you encouraged that. Of course, these songs never went public for obvious reasons (though Rhaast almost argued with you to upload them somewhere). Hearing songs like these from him were really the one and only times where you can hear just how truly angry he was. Still, you were glad he was letting it out in a way that felt natural to him. Artists letting out their frustrations through songs weren’t uncommon, and most of the ones out there needed to have their listeners read between the lines to understand and see the artist. But you? You didn’t have to. It was all right there in front of you.

Approaching Kayn on the topic itself is rather difficult as he tends to get defensive and dismissive over it, so really, the best you could do was get his mind off of it for a little while. Anything works as long as he was doing something, anything. It didn’t matter what it was.

It’d take quite some time for him to actually come to you for comfort on the matter. When he does though, it was a huge weight off of both of your shoulders. It basically just happened one night, and it was one of those nights for him where his thoughts were keeping him awake. He can’t sleep, you can’t sleep either, so you two just kind of talked for a bit to tire each other out. Eventually, the topic shifts and you can feel his hold on you tighten ever so slightly.

Kayn almost never showed a vulnerable side of him, especially around you. He had his own reasons for that. On the rare occasion that he does, know that it means he trusts you more than anything.

He is happy that you stayed and helped him as long as you did (both being his muse and just supporting him). He makes you aware of it during that night and he does continue to show his appreciation in his own way, whether it’s simply some quality time or even writing a song for you.

Things did eventually calm down and Kayn was beginning to just enjoy doing what he wanted to do again just for the fun of it rather than out of spite. As long as he’s happier now. There’s nothing else to say about his old band.

General stuff between you two

Teasing. So much teasing… He loves your flustered and/or slightly annoyed look when he does it. He finds it adorable.

Kayn can drive but for the love of god never actually let him drive. The chances of getting pulled over and arrested for reckless driving is really high up there. Just let him be in charge of the music, he’ll at least he satisfied with that.

You two still text each other on Discord even if you’re in the same room. He just likes hearing you laugh over what he sends. This does include videos he finds online that he thinks (knows) you’ll laugh to.

Matching hair color! It’s fun, a pain in the ass to get done, but fun. There was a bit of a mess in the bathroom though, and that wasn’t fun to clean.

“Hah! It looks like a murder took place in here!” “I murdered your hair, that’s for sure.” “What?! Are you kidding me? This isn’t the first time you did my hair! It’s perfect!” “Well yeah, but your long hair is gone… I really loved your long hair…” “I mean- It’ll grow back eventually.”

Lunch and dinner sometimes include ordering some food and having it delivered, then eating it in your shared room. Is it healthy food? No, but hey, at least you’re both eating food. If it wasn’t that, then one of you was cooking. Kayn’s cooking is not that bad, but it could be better. Don’t say that though.

Doing each other’s makeup. Although, it started with you wanting to do his and him saying he’ll let you do it if you let him do yours. Now it’s routine.

Playing with his hair. Loves it when you do it. Just him laying his head beside you, or on your chest, with your hands running through his hair. It calms him down and makes him sleepy sometimes. He’ll deny it though.

“Sleepy?” “No.” *literally about to fall asleep* “Sureee.” “Shut up.”

Though there are some nights where one of you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do. Whether it’s insomnia or the other just won’t shut the fuck up (Kayn), at least one of you is still awake. If you feel someone brushing your hair in the middle of the night and giving small pecks, it’s totally not Kayn.

Heartsteel

When Heartsteel found one of his songs and sent him a message, you were okay with him eventually moving in with the group. Kayn has been talking about them for some time, and you think this might be good for him. From what he’s been telling you, these people accept Rhaast. Totally not the one reason why you were okay with it in the first place.

He often texts you about what’s going on and teases you by asking if you miss him. Say no. :) Sometimes complains to you about Yone, but it’s just him being assigned a chore (dish duty).

It does get a bit lonely sometimes now, but he’s happy to be around a group of people that doesn’t push Rhaast away so it doesn’t bother you. Kayn does make up for it by calling you and sometimes dropping by. The second one isn’t often though. Again, gotta keep fans and paparazzi from finding out about your relationship. Although speaking of calls, there were times where you two fell asleep while on call. It usually ends with one of your phones running out of battery.

The group seems to know about you. Yone and Sett has heard of you once or twice, but K’Sante is the one that knows about you the most. According to K’Sante, Kayn talks about you a lot. Ezreal only knows about you cause he got a peak at his phone and saw your name thanks to one of your over night phone calls and he won’t stop asking Kayn about you.

“Dude who’s [name]??? Is that who you’re always talking to all night?” “The hell are you looking in my phone for??!”

Ahem… Kayn did get some relationship advice from K’Sante. Honestly this is exactly why he knows a lot about you from him.

Aphelios only knows about you because of Sett, who then tells Alune.

Kayn tried to keep the music video of Paranoia on the down low so it could surprise you, but he needed to tell you about the dog the moment they picked him up. With that aside, seeing the music video definitely put a smile on your face. He looked like he was having a lot of fun with the new band (you totally saw the Discord calls Aphelios leaked).

[tvgals]

i accidentally posted it so i had to delete it 😪

ALSO THANK UOU BAE 💞💞

‘ LET THE LIGHT IN. ‘

even though bully! connie had undeniable feelings for you, he hadn’t told anyone besides you yet. how big of a mistake was that?

you were smiling at yourself while getting ready for you and connie’s second date. you were officially his girlfriend, no one else knew but you two. connie said he’d never keep you two a secret! the lies he told.

your phone started to ring, the name ‘con 💞’ popping up. you grinned and answered the facetime. he was in the car with someone, a boy it sounded like. you were 50% sure it was his friend eren, but you weren’t sure.

“hi baby!” you grinned, waving at him.

connie’s eyes go wide, he immediately turns down the volume and keeps on driving, not saying a word. this was weird. usually he’d be so excited to be on the phone with you, so enthusiastic to talk to you, why was he so different now?

“who that?” you hear the boy in the passenger seat talk, now you were sure it was eren. “it ain’t nobody.” connie responds. eren laughed to himself. “i know that ain’t y/n.” you perk up at the sound of your name, you purse your lips and listen further. connie gave eren a look to ‘shut the fuck up’ but he kept on going. “bro, just tell her about the prank. i’ve seen her following you around, shit’s getting embarrassing.” eren starts to laugh harder.

“you haven’t told her yet? dude, you’re gonna crush her.” eren reprimanded connie through laughs. good thing this was his house. “okay okay, i’ll see you tomorrow?” eren asks, sticking his hand out so connie can dap him up, but connie just huffed and told eren to get out.

once the coast was clear, you sniffled. “what prank, connie?” connie’s heart breaks at the sound of your weak voice. he turns his phone back up and sighs. “nothing, baby.” connie sighed. “it is something. i’m not stupid!” you say into the phone. you’d gotten all pretty for no reason. for someone who asked you out as a joke. “no, it’s not. eren is just a dumbass. don’t listen to him.” connie tries to shrug off the situation.

“fuck you connie. i thought you’d actually change for me. i’m breaking up with you. don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t come over. we’re done.” you cry into the phone. you hang up and block connie, throwing your phone onto your bed. connie fucked up. something in his head told him to tell everyone else before shit got fucked up, but he never did. and it came back to bite him in the ass.

“jesus..” connie mumbled to himself, rubbing his face. he never knew this would blow up in his face. he thought it would just be harmless and no one would get hurt. he looked at the time, 5:45 and he headed off to walmart. he had to make it up to you. he pulled into the walmart parking lot, shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks inside and goes directly to the floral section, grabbing you a plethora of pink and purple and orange flowers. he smiles at the sight of your face in his mind. he hopes you can forgive him. connie then relocates to the card section, where he grabbed you a plain pink glittery card, where he plans to write a message to you. he then grabs you a few plushies and a pink gift bag.

he checks out and heads to his car, holding his breath on the drive to your house. he can’t even listen to music. he’s scared he’ll find a song that’ll remind him of you. he parked his car across from your house. he turns his car off and takes a deep breath, grabbing his gifts and walking to your door. connie is glad he knows his way around your family. your dad takes the morning shift, so he’s dead asleep while your mom takes third shift, so she’s at work. he lightly knocks on the door a few times. “please, y/n…” he whispers to himself. he gets a bit excited when he hears the pitter patter of your feet. he’s sure you have those cute pink socks with the bow on the top. you open the big door, sighing at the sight of connie.

“i told you don’t come over…” your voice is hoarse, sounding as if you’ve been crying ever since you’d hung the phone up. “i couldn’t just let you leave me without an explanation, baby.” connie says. “i gotchu some stuff…can we just talk?” he asks. you look down at his hands to see flowers and that cute little pink gift bag. “okay.” you say. you unlock the screen door and connie walks in, closing both doors before taking his shoes off. he follows behind you to your room. he intakes the familiar smell of winter candy apple immediately. connie hands you your gifts, which you handle with care when you place it on your nightstand.

“talk, connie.” you mumble, fiddling around with your fingers. “look, it was…” connie struggles to get the words out. “it was a prank.” connie admits, his head hanging low. you hold your breath, trying not to cry. “so what the fuck did you come over here for? just to play in my face?” you ask, almost crying. “no, no. you ain’t let me get to the point mama.” connie said, pulling you close. you tried to resist, but your mind wouldn’t let you.

“it started off as a prank. but when i started gettin��� to know you and seeing how you are, i fell in love. im sorry i didn’t tell anyone, baby…” connie apologized, rubbing circles along your hips. you gave yourself a second to register what he said to you. is he telling the truth? or was he just trying to string you along? “okay…” you mumble. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, hope in his voice. you sigh. “how are you gonna make it up to me? y’know i can’t forgive you this easy.” you grin, looking up at him. “i gotchu, mama.” connie says. he gently pushed you down on the bed. shimmying you out your pajama pants.

“you’re so pretty f’me…” he whispers, pulling your print panties to the side and gently kissing your cunt. “please connie, don’t tease.” you whine, arching your back. connie knew this was his last chance to make it up to you, so he did what he had to please you. he delve into your cunt, slurping and pressing sloppy kisses to it. connie almost lived in your cunt, always eating you out when you were stressed about finals, maybe even if you were just minding your business. “shit, connie!” you groan, arching your back and pushing his head further.

“mhmm…” connie hummed into your pretty pussy. “jesus, con!” you whined, your legs tightening around connie’s head. connie pulled away for a brief second. “open ‘em up, mama.” connie instructed you, pushing your legs apart before continuing to eat you out. “i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, trying to be quiet to not wake up your dad. “mhm, cum f’me…” he mumbles as you came on his face. connie couldn’t be more handsome than what he was now. his eyes low and filled with lust. “gonna let me fuck you now?” connie asked, pulling his dick out his nike sweatpants. “mhm…” you hum, pulling connie close to you. he chuckles at the action, pushing his dick inside your wet cunt.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” connie whimpers, thrusting into your cunt. “it’s okay…it’s okay…i k-know you didn’t mean it.” you forgive connie, holding his veiny hands. “please please, i didn’t mean f-for this to happen…i love you y/n.” connie moaned into your ear, his pace getting gradually faster. “don’t just throw that word around!” you reprimanded him, clawing at his back. “m not…i mean it…” connie whispers, almost too quiet to hear. “p-promise?” you sigh out, arching your back. “pinky promise.” connie smiled.

“‘m gonna cum…gonna cum so hard…” connie warned you. moaning like there’s nothing else in the world but you. “where d’you want it?” connie asks, looking up at you. “inside…” you gripe, curling your toes. with a few more strokes and moans, connie shoots his cum inside of you, biting your shoulder to keep quiet. after a few minutes of silence, you suck up the courage to ask connie a question.

“you really love me?” you ask, looking into his big olive eyes. “of course i do…” connie grinned, pressing kisses to your face. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, holding your hand. “yes. but you have to tell people we’re dating.”

“deal.”

TAGLIST :

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @Therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @luvv-des @blackgirlontheblock @cherrycrys @thecoloredpages @xricly @jazzyluuv @peter-parkers-gf @chinaza444 @dynoduck @princesslilisworld @what-am1rah @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @vitlicious @yuckyygutz @liyahontop @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @s1xtr @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @sylisan @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld @anotherblackreader @petitecolibri @bakuhoe37 @anubisisthebomb @sillygoofymoodx @sinnerzstuff @viisgrave @silkcatsz @bratzdolly4 @motheroffae @dollypipp @princessru1 @s1rennsworld

[hotpinkstars]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

[stunie]

UMEMIYA’S SHAZAM! — sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ umemiya hajime x f!reader ﾉ entry for @melon-fodder / bofurin brothel’s music collab!! ﾉ in which a certain white haired stranger comes to you for some help…

Your routine has stayed the same from the day you moved to Makochi. You’d say good morning to Kotoha at 7:30 AM. Eat breakfast at Pothos and enjoy a quick cup of coffee. And by 8:30, you’re already out the door and heading to work.

It’s not every day that a stranger startles you the way this one did. Your headphones are dangling around your neck now, hands lingering over them as you stare back at him. Wide-eyed and taken aback. Your music continues playing, and you can still hear it.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t hear him approach you.

“I really, really need your help!” He sits beside you, hands clasping together to plead. “You heard it, right?”

“Y-you scared me.” Your brows furrow. “My heart’s racing— you shouldn’t run up to people with headphones in and yell for help! I thought you were hurt.”

It seems to dawn on him suddenly. “Oh, you do have headphones in! No wonder you didn’t hear me earlier.” He lets out a sheepish laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t notice. You look so pretty— I completely missed it.”

You blink. “Me? Pretty?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head a bit and looks at you. “Pretty.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re not even sure how to respond. “O-oh. Thank you.”

The man in front of you gives you a bright smile at this. A little too wide— as if he’s confused as to what you’re even thanking him for.

“So..” you fiddle with your headphones. “What did you need help with? It sounded urgent.”

“Ah!” He perks up again. “I almost forgot. I really liked the last song that was playing. Did you hear it? I can’t find it..”

“Oh,” you almost laugh at how he’s already forgotten that you had headphones in for the second time that morning. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it. Did you catch any of the lyrics? I can try to guess.. if you want.”

“Eh? You can do that?”

You nod.

“I’ll sing it!” He’s much closer to you now. If he notices, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. You start to think he’s just a really oblivious guy, but it’s not a bad thing.

You think he’s cute.

You watch him with a small smile when he clears his throat, humming in thought as he tries to recall the lyrics of the song he heard. “Hm.. okay, okay. I remember.”

“Listen closely,” he smiles. “It goes like… mmmm. mmmm mmm… and I’ll sacrifice!”

Sacrifice? That doesn’t sound like Kotoha’s playlist.

The laugh slips past your lips before you even realize it. It catches you off guard— and the confused look he gives you only makes you laugh even harder. “Sorry, sorry, ah!” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand when it comes back ten times worse.

You’re forced to hunch over the table now. Completely oblivious to the way his eyes widen at how cute you sound. You look even prettier when you’re like this. But he doesn’t need to tell you that, does he?

It’s so obvious. That’s why he was confused earlier. You already know all this, don’t you? Warmth starts creeping up his cheeks the longer you laugh at him, and his lips feel a little wobbly now.

“Hey…” a crooked smile tugs at his lips when you try to apologize through a giggle again. “How mean. And here I was asking for help!”

You weakly slide your phone in his direction. “I think this should be the song…otherwise,” your voice cracks and you take in a sharp inhale to resist the urge to laugh again. “Otherwise I really have no idea.”

“Ah, so you do know! Old Love? By… hm… Putri Dahlia and Yuji. Okay. Old Love. Old Love!” He nods before standing up abruptly. “You’re the best, you know that? Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” It’s the calmest your voice has sounded in the last two minutes. “Don’t scare other people on your way out.”

He gives you an eager nod before leaving, and you slip your headphones back on. He never even gave you his name, did he? You’re also not entirely certain if he would be taking your advice, but at least this time it wouldn’t be you getting jumpscar—

“Hey!” You almost spit out your food. “No way. I scared you again? You scare pretty easily, huh?”

This time, it’s his turn to start laughing, and you note that this is the third time he’s forgotten about your headphones in the span of fifteen minutes. Not that telling him again would help.

“This is for you. I almost forgot.” He drops a folded piece of paper into your hands. “My number! Oh- you can call me Umemiya.”

He points to the paper. “So you can help me find more songs. I’ll text you the lyrics this time.”

So now he’s expecting you to know what he’s singing over text too. It sounds impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s not like it you would get jumpscared over text, anyway.

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking ����

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[lilacs-stars]

a night to remember

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: one day, you find a mysterious note in your locker from a certain pirate. who knows where it'll end up taking you—and your interesting relationship with him. GENRE: very wholesome despite the intro (I swear), fluff, some teasing and banter, reader being oblivious, mutual pining, just relationship cuteness overall CW: not much, mentions getting tipsy (not from alcohol), one little dirty joke if you squint hard enough WC: 7.5k

A/N: the title was inspired by the song of the same name by beabadoobee and laufey (I recommend listening to it while reading, as it sets the mood nicely!) james hook is literally so gentleman coded you can’t convince me otherwise. also I randomly thought of male characters using "m'lady" and now I'm obsessed...this was made to be pure, feet-kicking and giggling inducing fluff, so enjoy! thanks again to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! please leave feedback and suggestions, hearing your thoughts makes me so happy! :))

You stare down at the drink in your hand, the realization of what it is slowly dawning upon you. 

Mouth agape in pure disbelief, you glance up at the man sitting in front of you. The devilish glint in his eyes, rivaled only by the shine of his metal hook, sends chills down your spine—making it terribly clear why he brought you. 

Oh god, you think. How in the world did I get here?

You make your way through the bustling halls of Merlin Academy, trying your best to not get jostled by the ruckus of the crowd. 

Honestly, who puts people’s classes on the sixth floor and their lockers on the first? you mentally grumble, finally reaching the dreaded staircase that you climb up and down dozens of times each day.

After descending the five flights of stairs, you’re completely out of breath by the time you reach your locker. You tap the lock with your pointer finger three times, a magical device inside reading your fingerprint. It clicks open, and your locker door swings out towards you.

Reaching to place your books inside and take out some new ones for the rest of the day's classes, you’re shocked by something that slips out as soon as the door opens. A white piece of paper sways back and forth as it falls to the floor, right next to your feet.

You bend down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, you learn that it’s not a piece of paper; it’s a small packet, stapled in the corner. At the top, in neat, printed letters, are the words “ENCHANTMENT OF MAGICAL OBJECTS: UNIT 3 WRITTEN TEST.”

Below it, a line is provided for the student's name. Scribbled down in a fancy, yet somehow still messy and barely legible font, is the name “James Hook.”

He left me his test? you question. You don’t even bother wondering how he broke into your locker; after that little incident where he stole your ring, you have resigned yourself to not being surprised at his so-called “bad boy” antics. He is a villain, after all.

This test was one that your class had been preparing for quite some time. It mainly centered the theory of enchantments, with the most difficult one being the Aiming Spell. Thankfully, you had taught Hook most of the material during your study session last week, specifically focusing on helping him improve his Aiming Spell (although maybe he got a little too good, considering how he pulled off that ring trick).

Your confusion regarding the test placed in your locker lasts only a second longer, until you notice that in the top right corner, a big, circled "87%" is written in bright red pen.

The number stays for a brief moment, before the red ink rearranges itself on the page, morphing into a “B+”.

Wait…that’s really good. For him, at least, you think. Is this really all because of your one tutoring session? You have always thought that you’re pretty good at teaching other people, but you never considered yourself a miracle worker. He must think it is because of me, I guess. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left this in here.

Even though you know you’re probably not supposed to, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you flip back the front cover to check what he got wrong.

As soon as you lift the top page, another piece of paper falls out of the test. This time, it’s smaller, a faint beige color tinting the sheet.

You reach down once again to pick it up as you notice that this one is actually an envelope. Glancing at the back, which appears to be empty, you flip it over to the front side. It bears a wax seal embossed with an emblem of two crossed pirate swords.

Carefully peeling back the top of the envelope so as to not rip the delicate paper, you pull out the note inside. There isn’t much writing on the plain paper, but it’s in the same handwriting as before. Very intrigued at this unusual occurrence of events, you read the few lines of text keenly.

“Friday, 6 pm. The Rogers Place.

Make sure to wear your fanciest dress.

Meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

...What? You’re too stunned to even think. What is this? There’s no way he’s actually asking you out…on a date.

This has to be a joke, right? A study session was one thing, but this, this, meetup, is something entirely different. He even asked to meet you outside of school. You've heard before of the restaurant he mentioned, although you've never actually gone there yourself. Based on what you've gathered, it's a popular, rather formal place run by Eudora Rogers and her young daughter, Tiana, in memory of her beloved husband. 

So why in the name of the heavens would James Hook ask you, someone who has no dating experience whatsoever, of all people, to go with him to dinner? “Wear your fanciest dress”? What is this guy thinking?

In utter disbelief, you flip over the note, checking the back to make sure you haven’t missed something. To your surprise, there is some writing scrawled on the back, which reads: “Your payment for helping me pass my test.”

Right…so…he’s asking you out on a—no, it’s not a date, you remind yourself, yet again. He’s simply doing a nice act to return the favor. This was probably the only thing that came to his mind. Silencing the little voice in your head that whispers, “Why would the first thing that came to his mind be asking you out to dinner?”, you stuff the envelope and note in your bookbag, holding on to the test to give back to him sometime.

As you walk down the hallway, rushing to get to your next class, you don’t see the figure lurking behind the corner at the other end of the corridor.

He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

This one? No, it’s too casual.

How about this one? No, it’s not fancy enough.

This? Too sparkly.

That? Not sparkly enough.

You sigh, flopping onto your bed amidst a pile of dresses. It’s a few hours after school let out, on the day you’ve been anticipating all week long. And, not surprisingly, you can’t decide what in the world to wear. After all, it’s not like you’ve been out on lots of not-dates to know what a typical outfit would be like.

You stare up at the ceiling, sighing again for what must be the hundredth time this night. At times like this, you seriously wish you had a roommate. You've always had your dorm all to yourself, and sure, it is really nice most of the time. You can relax and unwind in solitude, with no one distracting you or pestering you with trivial matters while you study. However, there are the rare few occasions where you long to have someone close, to help you out or give you advice.

After holding up quite a few more dresses in the mirror, you finally decide on the one with the fewest number of cons, from the mental list you made for each dress. Slipping it on—albeit with much difficulty, since who designed dresses to be so frilly to the point where you can't even find where to put your head?—you stare at your reflection, completely enamored by the person you see staring back at you. You’re not really used to wearing fancy things like this, which is probably the reason why you barely recognize yourself.

Twirling around, head over your shoulder as you keep your gaze locked on the mirror, you realize why people have always told you that you have a striking resemblance to your mother. Your outfit consists of a ballgown-style dress, which really is the only type you have in your closet. Even though it’s a bit uncomfortable, the fitted bodice making it rather hard to take a full breath and the off-the-shoulder neckline compelling you to constantly tug it up to prevent it from slipping, it still is absolutely gorgeous. The short sleeves complement the torso, and the full skirt, all puffed up with layers of tulle, swishes elegantly as you move around. The bodice is densely embellished with small rhinestones, mostly at the top, with the gems growing sparser farther down the dress. A few crystals are set into the skirt just below the waistline, creating a scattered, shimmering effect reminiscent of the stars in a night sky.

Even though you aren’t a fan of fancy dresses, you must admit, you absolutely adore this one.

Finishing off the look with some jewelry and accessories, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. You've never been one to be arrogant, but it's still hard not to think that even though this is certainly not a date, maybe, just maybe, Hook might be a little more interested in you after tonight.

“Um…hi?” you say, timid voice rising into a question from your uncertainty.

After getting dressed, you made your way to the restaurant. Fighting the deep-rooted urge to get there early as possible, you took the long route, not wanting to be the first to arrive. I’ll make him wait for me this time, you decided with an evil little smirk, thinking back to the day of your study session and the long minutes you had agonizingly spent wondering if he was going to show up.

Now, you stand in front of the reception desk, peering up at a waiter ordering papers. Fiddling with the lace gloves covering your hands, you add, “I don’t know if my name is ion the reservation or anything…”

Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. All Hook had instructed you was to show up at the restaurant at this time. Part of you had expected him to be waiting by the door, but now that you see he isn't, your nervousness rises.

“Are you Y/N?” the server questions, glancing down at something on the small podium-like stand.

“Uh, yes, I am,” you reply.

“A young man has made a reservation for the two of you. He’s already waiting for you out on the patio. If you’ll follow me,” the waiter informs you, grabbing a menu from his stack and leading you through the bustling restaurant.

You follow him, feeling incredibly bashful as you swerve around tables and people alike. You finally reach a large set of doors in one of the seating areas, which the waiter opens for you.

Stepping through the threshold, you sense the cool rush of the evening air welcome you out. The sky has already begun to dim, a few faint stars gleaming against the dark backdrop. Spread out in front of you is an array of tables, most of them small enough for only two people. The low lighting, coming solely from flickering candles and glowing lanterns strung throughout the area, paired with the singular rose set in a vase at the center each table and a faint, slow jazz song playing somewhere in the background, makes for the most romantic of settings you could have possibly imagined.

Your breath is completely taken away as the server leads you through the arrangements of seats. It’s sparsely crowded, with only a few couples seated here and there, each enjoying an amorous dinner.

The server stops at a circular, two-seated table close to the edge, overlooking a magnificent view of the city down below. A few feet in front ahead and sitting with his back towards you, the only object of your thoughts for these past few hours turns his head in your direction, probably upon hearing the clacking of your high-heeled shoes.

Although you’ve tried your best to convince yourself that this, in fact, is not a date, you simply can’t deny the way his entire expression light up at the mere sight of you. Hook stands up, unabashedly eyeing you up and down slowly, taking all of you in.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand in his, once again bowing down to place a kiss on your ring—it appears that this has become a routine, which you can't exactly say you mind.

You don't miss how he pauses for just a moment, noticing the way your ring is still on your ring finger, unchanged from the place he left it. Holding your breath, your heart beats faster as you worry about what he thinks of it. To your relief, he doesn’t say anything, instead kissing the gemstone and straightening back up again, but not before ever so softly—yet still with obvious intentionality—brushing his lips against your finger, deliberately tracing your skin with an agonizingly slow pace as his warm breath sets your every nerve on fire.

“M’lady,” he breathes, standing to meet your gaze. His casual nonchalance is a stark difference from the way you struggle to regain your composure, hating how even the smallest of actions from him can elicit such a reaction from you.

As you study him, you notice that he had a significant wardrobe change too; instead of his usual pirate attire, he dons a dark maroon frock coat, embroidered with intricate swirls and designs. He definitely made an attempt at looking a bit more classy, with his hair neater than usual and the collar of his shirt tidily done. You could even swear that his hook looked more polished than usual, and that he carried the faint, odd trace of expensive cologne.

The server leaves the menu on your table and walks away with a polite nod of his head. Hook steps over to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in, pulling it out for you in a manner that is far too gentlemanly for what you're used to seeing from him, gesturing at you to sit down with a wave of his shiny metal hook. 

Overwhelmingly flattered, you walk over, smoothing your skirt beneath you as you take your seat. Hook pushes your chair in, before going back to the other side of the table to take his own seat.

Not sure what else to do, you pick up your menu and glance over it. “Decide what you’re going to order yet?” Hook asks you.

“No, you?”

“They already took my order, but I told them to wait on preparing my food until you had ordered as well.”

They already took his order? How long has he been here? you wonder. You glance at your wristwatch, seeing that it’s only a few minutes past six o’clock. Deciding to shrug it off, you go back to looking at your menu, despite not being able to fight the voice in your head that whispers about how you should've gotten here earlier, that he had probably been waiting for you, all alone, for quite some time.

“It’s so hard to decide,” you say with a halfhearted laugh, trying to fill up the heavy silence. You peruse the menu more carefully this time, marveling at how many different dishes are listed. Finally, after reading through the entire thing a few more times, you settle on the one that sounds the best.

After only a few moments, the server comes back around and takes your order. “A fine choice, ma’am,” he comments as you tell him your choice of entrée. You notice that all of the waiters here wear fancy black suits and come with a pristine white cloth draped over their arm. Huh, how fancy, you think to yourself. I never knew this place was so formal.

“So, Hook,” you begin, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Didn’t you read my note? It’s a thank-you for helping me pass my test. The teacher was very impressed with my score, you know,” he responds indifferently.

You give him a small sigh, paired with a gentle smile—your attempt at hiding the twinge of disappointment dancing in your eyes. “I did, but you didn’t have to treat me to dinner. A simple note would have sufficed.”

Hook looks at you, dark brown eyes wide and holding your gaze with an intensity you’ve never known. “Sufficed? I don’t want to just suffice. I want to give you a memorable night. An unforgettable experience.” “I don’t think I could ever forget a charming pirate with a hook for a hand,” you laugh, teasing him lightly. Instead of laughing along with you, Hook stares at you for another moment, studying you with slightly scrunched brows and an indecipherable expression on his face. You grow uneasy at his burning look, shifting in your seat as you wonder why he’s watching you so intently.

However, the tense awkwardness in the air lasts for only a minute, before Hook breaks into one of his famous smirks as he replies, “Oh, charming, am I? I know you can’t stop thinking about me, love.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant!” you cry, leaning across the table to give him a small push. He breaks into a laugh, his lips curling up into yet another genuine smile as he leans back just out of your reach. His mirthful expression makes you realize that he had been simply joking, causing your face to burn up as your mind replays your rather dramatic reaction. Honestly, you can never really tell whether he’s being serious or just messing with you.

“Settle down, love. Wouldn’t want you ruining that pretty dress of yours,” he responds, twisting to the side again to prevent getting smacked by you.

You two continue making small talk, still partaking in your teasing, only slightly annoying banter. Before you know it, a waiter is walking towards your table with two platters, one in each hand.

The server sets down the plates on your table, the dishes both looking absolutely delectable. Along with the food, he places two matching beverages in front of you two.

You thank him, and he bows again before leaving. Turning back to Hook, you watch with a slight arch of your eyebrows as he raises his drink in the air.

“A toast,” he says. “To continuing our little dates.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to correct him this time. Lifting your own glass, you add, “And to you continuing to get good grades.” He smiles at this, before lifting the drink to his lips. Perceptive as always, you notice how his eyes follow your hand as you bring the glass to your mouth.

A sudden, fleeting doubt crosses your mind at his suspicious behavior. Glancing down at the drink skeptically, you notice its unique bright red color. You lower +it slightly and sniff it, then bring it down from your face, fixing a glare at Hook. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s what I was counting on, at least.”

You persist with your glare. You've spent many hours reading up on different potions and elixirs, so you're no stranger to the drink in your hand. It's a popular one known as the Lovers' Lascivious Lure, a beverage with a fruit punch-like taste, plus a little kick. The real reason for its fame, however, is the touch of love potion that gets mixed in. Not enough to truly make someone fall in love with you or intoxicate them, but rather something that is favored by couples looking to get a little tipsy in love on their night out.

You set the glass down on the table, not breaking your gaze away for a second as you continue to glower at the person sitting across you.

“It’s rude to not drink after a toast, darling,” Hook says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking that,” you reply irritatedly. 

“Fine. Your loss, love.”

You watch in complete shock, eyes blown wide and mouth agape as Hook brings his drink up to his lips again, tipping back his head as he gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“I’d drink yours as well, darling, but I’d hate for you to be forced to walk me home, instead of the other way around,” Hook spouts with a bit too much added expression, slightly swaying as the effects of the potion kick in. 

You continue to stare at him, concern etched into your features, knowing full well that this drink is designed to be sipped slowly throughout a leisurely dinner, one with much idle conversation and flirtatious looks. Not to be downed all at once. You honestly don’t know what the side effects are to consuming a large amount very quickly, but you pray that the potion is weak enough so as to not cause actual harm—or any other effects—to him.

“So, love,” Hook drawls in a low tone, leaning in. “Anything you feel like telling me?”

“You’re the one who drank the liquid courage, not me,” you point out, fixing him with another look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to last like this.”

At your words, Hook’s dazed expression suddenly disappears, instead replaced by a very serious, stern face. “Oh, I assure you, love, I can last very long.”

You blink, a tad confused at why he said that with such a strong conviction. Brushing it off, you look down at your food again, your mouth already watering. “Come on, our food’s going to get cold, and it looks far too delicious to waste.”

Hook agrees, unrolling his utensils instead of shooting back a one-liner, much to your surprise. You’re even more taken aback at the way he drapes the white cloth, which previously held his cutlery, over his legs as he begins to eat, keeping up with his very proper etiquette. He does everything with utterly perfect decorum, from holding his fork and knife in the correct positions to cutting all his food into little pieces. You honestly don't know why this comes as such a shock to you; he has been employing rather polite manners all evening, after all. It appears, you realize, that you’ve always subconsciously believed the stereotypes that pirates are unruly creatures, which therefore must mean they eat messily.

Apparently, this pirate doesn’t.

You both make small talk as you enjoy your food, which is every bit as delicious and succulent as it looked. All the different components are cooked to a perfect degree; not raw or difficult to chew, but not burnt, either. Rich, deep, aromatic spices have always been the staple of this restaurant, and for good reason. You have no clue what flavorings they used, but whatever they are, they taste unlike anything you've ever eaten in your entire life, like an otherworldly meal sent from the heavens. To top it all off, the food also comes with piquant side dishes, followed by desserts that are absolutely decadent and make you melt with every bite you take.

After you both have had your share, Hook motions to the waiter for the check. You had slipped some extra cash into your handbag before coming, not sure what the expectation would be for who paid. As the waiter returns with the small black book in his hand, you turn to Hook.

“I can pay, if you want,” you offer. 

Hook quirks his brow as he gives you a look, before reaching into his coat pocket. “Come now, don’t be ridiculous, love. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay for you? Especially considering that I was the one who asked you out.”

You blink hard, barely aware of your small nod towards him, your mind racing as the waiter gives Hook the check. You blankly watch him scribble a signature before handing it back, trying to process what he just said. “...asked you out…” Does that mean he actually considers this as a date? Especially since he offered to pay for you…Heavens, what is going on?

Your eyes trail the waiter as he leaves, just as Hook turns back to you. “All finished?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “So…what now?” You aren't quite sure whether or not he's planning on walking you home like he mentioned earlier, but you do know that you're not ready to part quite so soon. Averting his gaze, you instead choose to look down at the candle flickering in the middle of your table. It is now very dark outside, to the point where the flame’s meager light shines with a bright luminosity. Entranced by the fire, you stare intently at its dancing movements, attention fully consumed by how the flame appears to be practically alive.

“Now,” Hook says with a glint in his eyes, causing your head to snap back up, “I have something to show you.”

“Something to show me?” you repeat. “Show me what?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see once we get there, love.”

“Once we get there? Hook, where are we going?”

He gives a smug, knowing grin. “You’ll see. Just be patient, darling.” He notices the skeptical look you still have, so he adds, “Trusting me last time turned out good, right? So trust me one more time. I promise you’ll like your surprise.”

You consider his words, hating how he had a point. “Fine,” you huff. “Lead the way, I guess.”

You start to push your chair back to get up, but Hook chides, “Ah ah ah, no you don’t,” standing up himself before walking behind you. He grips the back of your chair and pulls it out for you, before offering his good hand to help you stand too.

Once again, you’re rather shocked at his well-mannered behaviors and courteous gestures. As you accept his outstretched arm, you wonder how in the world this is the same person who was, only a few days ago, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, flinging magical disks across the room.

Getting up, you hesitate for a moment, freezing in place now that you’re level with his eyes. You haven’t been this close to him since that pivotal day during your study session, and your breath gets taken away once again by the proximity.

His angular features and sharp jawline catch your attention, causing your legs to stagger as your gaze wanders down to his soft, plush lips, which definitely stand out amidst the rest of his chiseled face. You had never noticed how his eyeliner also traces his bottom lash line, making his eyes pop whenever he widens them, or how part of his hair swoops to the side and slightly covers his forehead. It dawns on you that you’ve always overlooked the two small silver earrings that dangle from his ears, or the chain around his neck with a cross on it, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Not aware of how you’re just standing there paralyzed, you commit to memory the small details about him you’ve never really seen before. Even though the inside of your head is alive and bustling with a plethora of thoughts, outside, you two stand in terribly awkward silence.

Hook clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. “Come along, darling. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by curfew again.”

Tightening his grip on your hand, which still holds yours, he leads you through the entrance you had used not so long ago while bidding farewell to the waiter. You continue up the hill to the woods behind the restaurant, Hook refusing to give even a single hint as to what big surprise awaits you.

The trail through the trees starts off easy enough, although still rather difficult for you to traverse in your tight dress and voluminous skirt. If I had known I’d be taking a hike, I’d have worn something more suitable, and much more comfortable, you think, but ultimately decide to keep your mouth shut. After all, Hook had been spoiling you all evening. The least you could do was not nag him about every last thing.

The farther you go, the thicker the branches that block your path and scratch at your arms with their sharp claws get, and the denser the underbrush that tries to trap your feet and swallow you whole grows. After a quarter hour of consistent walking, the trail all but disappears, until only a small path carved by the footsteps of a few brave souls remains. You have to hold up the edge of your full-length skirt the whole way to ensure it doesn’t get all dirty and muddy; by the time you’re nearly done, your arms ache just as much, if not more, than your legs.

You and Hook travel mostly in silence, the sounds of your heavy panting and the crunches of leaves and branches underfoot filling up the empty air. You trail behind him, sometimes struggling to keep up, although he does happen to notice this and slows down his pace after the first few minutes.

Occasionally, Hook gives a short, crisp, “Watch out for the rock there, love,” or “The branches here are really low, I’ll hold them up for you.” You always respond with a clipped “Yeah,” or “Okay, thanks,” trying to mask just how out of breath you've gotten from the difficult climb. Early on in the beginning of the hike, you had to let go of his hand, favoring holding up your skirt instead. Still, in areas where the ground is rough or rocky, or the footing becomes difficult or rather steep, Hook always turns around and offers his hand to you and helps pull you up, or reaches out his hook from overhead for you to grab on to.

The noises of the night accompany you the entire time: the soft chirps of crickets, a few croaks from a frog somewhere out of sight, a creature or other scampering through the bushes, a rare call from an owl, and the whispering of the leaves above as a cool breeze passes through them. After a few more minutes of walking through a maze of nature with trees so thick—their only rival being the velvety blackness of the night—the pace of the trek finally slows down. You've long tired of always having to hold one arm ahead to ensure that you don’t get smacked in the face by an unsuspecting branch, so you're overwhelmingly relieved when Hook finally says, “We’re almost there.” “Finally,” you mumble between breaths. “I think my limbs are just about to fall off.” You can’t really tell in the pitch-black darkness, but you could have sworn that Hook gave a small smile at your words.

Once you reach a thick tangle of branches and vines that completely block your path, you both come to a stop. You watch as he pulls them back and to the side, even slicing through some with his hook. He beckons you forward with a courteous, “Ladies first,” a grin dancing on his features.

You walk through the clearing and onto a wide ledge overlooking the entire city. The view knocks the breath out of your lungs, despite your body already screaming at you for more oxygen. All thoughts of your strenuous hike vanish from your head, except for one that reminds you the arduous journey was absolutely and totally worth it.

From all the way up here, you can see the entire land. The shimmering lights of the large cityscape below you steal your heart, while the small village houses and mountains beyond them, creating the faintest of outlines against the horizon, capture your soul. This vantage point allows you to see everything; every bustling street filled with people rushing to get home after a long week, or frolicking around on a night out. Every house, every drawn-back curtain, but a mere speck in the constellation of human activity, a testament to the splendor of life. Twinkling lights sprawled below you paint a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the celestial canvas of stars hanging above you.

You stare in pure awe, almost forgetting about Hook as he approaches you from behind. “Enjoying the view, love?” he whispers softly, his voice closer to you than you expected.

You startle, turning backwards with a sharp inhale. “Oh…yeah, it’s just…breathtaking.” Unable to think of the right words to describe it, you decide to settle for an almost shameful understatement of the view's beauty.

You’re not quite sure if you imagined it, too caught up in your head, but you hear something that almost sounds like a soft, “Just like you.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“I said, I told you you’d like it,” Hook repeats, although you still hold your suspicions. “All you had to do was trust me.”

“And how can I be sure you aren’t planning to push me off the edge?” you question, teasing him.

“Well, you can’t,” he replies, walking over to the ledge. “But if I do, I’ll let you drag me down with you. If we go down, then we go down together.”

You giggle, choosing to take his words at face value only and not read into them too much. After all, your heart can only take so much in one night.

Hook crouches down, using his good hand to support him as he sits down in front of you, keeping one foot hugged to his chest as he dangles the other off the side of the cliff.

He glances over his shoulder at you, patting the space besides him. Cautiously, you walk over to the ledge, joining him on the ground. 

You both sit there for a moment in silence, looking over the magnificent scene. You can tell that Hook finds comfort in the lack of conversation, but it feels too heavy for you, and so you decide to finally break it with the question that’s been on your mind this whole night.

“Hook?” you ask gently.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you. “I thought you’d like the view,” he replies, looking at you with a confused expression.

You take a quick breath, preparing yourself for the difficult words you’re planning to speak next. “No, I mean, why did you really bring me here tonight?” He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, adding, “And don’t lie to me.”

His mouth closes shut again and he hesitates for a moment, contemplating his next sentence carefully, before responding, “I’ve already told you.”

“What, that you wanted to thank me for helping you get a B-plus on your test? Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me anymore.”

“No, not that.” He turns his head back and runs his good hand through his hair, making his neatly combed style look a bit more windswept than before. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“…What?”

“I already told you that it was a date, love. You just chose not to believe me.”

It’s your turn to whip your head to the side this time, now facing directly towards Hook, who’s still looking straight ahead at the scenery.

“I-I didn’t…truly…I thought you were just joking when you said that.”

He glances at you again, a roguish grin forming on his lips. “Oh, darling, I don’t joke about much. Especially not with you.”

Again, you choose not to read too deeply into his words, trying to break your awful habit of overthinking. Instead, you press on, wanting to gain as much information as you can from him. If nothing else, at least a few answers might help put your mind at a little more ease. “Why’d you want to ask me out? I’m not exactly…”

Your voice fades away as your brain catches up with your far-too-fast mouth, realizing that saying “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to date” may not do you any favors.

Hook turns to look at you with an expectant gaze, and you know that you can’t sweep your little slip-up under the carpet that easily. Gods, he’s observant. “…the most popular person at our school,” you finish.

“Hmm, true,” Hook concurs, tilting his head with a tone as if he’s never considered that point before. You were half-expecting him to disagree, more out of courtesy than honesty, so you’re a bit taken aback when he agrees with you.

“But I don’t care about popularity.” Ah, so there’s that socially obligatory politeness. You don't really believe his words at first, yet the way he says it so sincerely, so genuinely, makes you wonder if he truly is being honest.

“So why’d you want to take me out on a date?”

“Because, love, you’re different from what I’m used to,” he replies. “You’re kind, soft, pure. You intrigued me.”

You recoil at his words, a deep, writhing anger rising out of you. “What, you only went out with me because I’m so pure and innocent? So you could corrupt me?” you spit, having heard this little skit far too many times before.

“No, not like that. Not at all.” Hook twists his body to face you more, and although you’re still mad at him, you can’t deny the hurt and pain that swirls in his voice and eyes at your accusations. “You’re…you’re always trying to help others. You always speak softly, always smile. You’re untainted by the evils I've witnessed. You’re like an angel sent down from the heavens. You’re not like me, love."

Hook continues, “And I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to corrupt or hurt you. I want to preserve that. Every time I’m with you, you make me want to keep you safe from the troubles of the world, the cruel things I’ve seen.

"You make me want to be around you. I can't explain how, or why, but your presence alone compels me to change my ways. To be kinder, gentler, softer. For you. It's as if you're contagious, and well, I think you've infected me, love. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, everything feels just a little bit better. The weight on my shoulders feels a bit lighter, and nothing seems as bad as it used to, as it was when I was on my own.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...you've made me feel things that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Things that I thought my blackened heart couldn't even experience anymore. You make me feel like there's still goodness in the world...like there's still hope. Like I still have hope." You blink slowly, your mind and heart spinning alike as everything around you, as time itself, seems to slow down. You're unable to process all his words, unable to even begin to consider the implications of what this all means. “So, what you’re saying is…you only like me because I’m good?” you ask, touched by his sentiment, yet a little sad at the underlying meaning. Does this mean that if you want to stay with Hook, to maybe even be something in the future, you can't have any darkness to your soul? That you'll have to continue to be as righteous and morally correct as ever?

He gives a small chuckle. “Of course not, darling. I love when I make you snap, when you get angry at me. I love when the fierce part of you comes out. Just like it did now.” He reaches out his good hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your cheek as he keeps it there, not pulling back quite yet.

You can see the hesitance swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty in the way his hand lingers by your face. By some sudden stroke of courage, the origins of which are a complete mystery to you—maybe he had the love potion added to your food too?—you shift your whole body towards Hook, keeping your legs tucked together and off to one side. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

“I'm sorry, love, wh-what?”

It feels strange to take command for once, but it sure is nice. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His lingering hand cups your cheek as you both lean in, meeting each other in the middle. Hook’s lips are as soft and plump as you imagined, almost like brushing your mouth against the petals of a rose. Placing one of your hands on the ground beside you, you put your weight on it as you move even closer.

You’ve read of intense kisses, filled with passion and fueled by lust. But this isn't like that. It is slow, sweet, intoxicating you with only the purest of adorations. Your lips hover over his as you tilt your head to the side to prolong the embrace, getting swept up in the moment whilst being completely and blissfully unaware of anything and everything besides how his lips feel against yours, how his hook traces your body as he devours you like a starved man given his last meal. How he breathes you in like you're the very air that fills his lungs, like your sheer essence is the only oxygen he needs. You bring your hand up to his shoulder, leaning further into him as he moves his good hand back and tangles it in your hair.

It ends rather quickly, the entire kiss lasting but a moment, yet still filling you with the sweetest pleasure. In that moment, you realize why people spend their whole lives searching for love; it’s one of the most endearing, profound forms of joy that one can feel, and you're certain that you just felt it.

You pull away, noticing how his gaze lingers on your lips, before looking back up at you. He gives you a captivating, yet genuine smile, one that makes your heart to ache at how perfect he is, yet simultaneously yearning for his touch, his lips, him being wrapped up in another embrace with you and never breaking away. The newfound euphoria coursing through your veins and making your mind fuzzy causes you to return his smile with a wide, love-drunk grin of your own, a deep, wholehearted devotion emanating through your gaze as you study his features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, staring into his eyes—eyes that reflect your own.

“Always, love.”

“You were my first kiss,” you confess.

Hook brings his hand back up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His grin grows, an endless affection swirling in his dark eyes as he replies, “I guess this really is a night to remember.”

You give a small laugh, lowering your forehead to lean it against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his hold. “You did want to give me an unforgettable night, after all.”

“Can I tell you a secret, too?”

You raise your head again to peer up at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he has to admit.

“That day, in class,” he confides, “I was enchanting those disks and sending them across the room so you’d come and talk to me. I saw how you went over to help that other kid who was struggling. So, I figured that if I struggled too, you'd come over and I could get a conversation with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you could cast the spell right?”

“Oh, no, not even close, love. That was all your work. Although I might have put in a bit more effort just to impress you,” he adds with a small smirk.

You move one of your hands closer to him, placing it on top of his and intertwining your fingers together. “Well, I suppose it worked.”

You lean back into him, kissing him blissfully yet again under the watchful smile of the moon glowing high in the sky, the stars glimmering and winking down at your young love. As you embrace, the city below bustles with the joys and despairs of human life unbeknownst to you, each person a thread in the tapestry of the world. Every soul but a speck of stardust in a cosmic dance.

And perhaps that is the greatest folly of human life. All the weight of one’s burdens, all the battles fought, all the hearts and souls that love and cry, together composing of but a fleeting second amidst the vastness of forever. And yet, each person gets lost in the preeminence of their own narrative, joyfully unaware of every grain of sand that disappears into the abyss as we shuffle closer to the edge of this mortal coil. But oftentimes, one’s deepest flaw is their greatest feat, as no imperfection comes without its own merit.

So maybe that very feature is, instead, the greatest feat of humanity. To love like you’ll live forever, and to weep like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe our ignorance gives us strength, the strength to keep going every day, pretending as if we somehow have an authority and power over the galactic strings of thread that weave together the fate of our universe.

The city below you, the world outside of the little bubble the two of you have created, moves on, unknown and unknowing of you both. But in this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing besides the love and affection you and him have grown to share.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0 @ljaylmaoo @maggiecc @elltheawkward @eretsupremacy89 @dreamerofasgard @mabs04

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: I just had to end this with some philosophical musings haha (hey google, how do you write beginnings and endings?) anyways hope you liked this, I love making fluff like this :D I love seeing everyone's comments and reactions, all feedback is highly appreciated! until next time :))

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[byuntrash101]

lovers on the sun

reader x dom!mingi ft. yunho angst | smut | mdni 4.8k you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for. nsfw tags under the cut

plot, outlaw!au, friends to strangers to lovers (?), hurt/comfort (the hurt part doesn't go too hard dw), a lil' angsty but lowkey wholesome, cheating, mutual pinning, good ending, yunho is mentionned but does not appear. nsfw: nipple play, body whorship (f), pet names (baby, doll) oral (f), slight begging, unprotected sex (i mean they didnt have a choice back then), mingi in the cowboy hat and leather coat (im weak for him </3), big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, cock warming, he's madly in love with you

playlist: jeannette - el muchacho de los ojos trites, david guetta - lovers on the sun, amy whinehouse - love is a losing game

a/n: thank you so much @ssaboala for hosting this amazing collab. and thank you @hwaightme for helping me so much and brainstorming ideas. also i really recommand you listen to the playlist it will for sure put you in the nostalgic western mood <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

You can’t help but be worried as you wake up to a cold bed. You haven’t seen Yunho in a couple of days. You wonder if he’s fine as you look out the window of your room to the cornfields. It’s just after dawn but the hot summer air is already laying heavy over the fields, making the green and yellow stems undulate. 

You sigh heavily, imagining your husband on his horse in his uncomfortable and sweaty uniform combing the streets, the plains, the fields, the whole town, the whole state, maybe even the whole country. All of that on an empty stomach and sleep deprived.

But you knew he wasn’t going to come home before he caught him. Song Mingi. Ever since he was appointed sheriff it has been his life goal to catch him. The public enemy number one. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much blood this man had on his hands. He pillaged and robbed and murdered. Always slippery like an eel and managing to get out of justice’s grasp.

Until a couple of days ago where he made a fatal mistake. Your husband jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and mobilized the entire department to look for the man. He was hurt and hiding somewhere. He only needed to be found. The dangerous outlaw reduced to a defenseless flower only waiting to be plugged. This time he knew he was done for and Yunho was going to finally catch him and bring him to justice and ultimately to the gallows. Where your husband thought the fugitive’s righteous place was. Behind the church and six feet under.

You chuckled humorlessly to yourself at the name. You used to know this name. You used to know it very well. Or at least you thought you did. You used to be close to Song Mingi. The three of you were. Mingi, Yunho and you. You were just a bunch of teenagers, you didn’t have a worry in the world. But you grew up and Yunho joined the force as Mingi did and you can only guess power got to his head. He eventually got caught involved in shady business with even shadier people. Until he left and became the fugitive. The outlaw you only knew by the wanted posters put up everywhere in town.

His name lost all familiarity. But your heart couldn’t forget about his soft half smile. About the warmth pulling in his orbs when the three of you stayed up in the hill to watch the stars, sleeping under the open night sky, despite the snakes and coyotes. Even the crackling fire couldn’t rivalize with the blaze of his sharp eyes on you. You couldn't forget his rough hand snaking its way on your nape, pulling you closer to lay the gentlest kiss on your lips. You nervously glanced over at Yunho sleeping next to the both you. You felt nervous even if this happened long before you got married, long before he confessed to you. And for Mingi there was not a trace of doubt on his sharp features, no evil in his eyes. Only love. You thought at least.

That was the very last night you saw him. The next day he fled to the valley and proceeded with his life of crime. Your heart ached again, how could he have chosen that life… over what he had. Why would he choose a blood stained pile of shriveled dollar bills instead of this night on the hills with you… instead of this kiss? Instead of you?

You shook your head trying to forget about the uncomfortable feeling of your skin crawling as the wholesome memory turned into bitter dormant ache. You have accepted it over the years. Truth was you never knew Song Mingi… You only knew about the sheep but never about the wolf.

But then again you have to get on with your day, and carry on. Life goes on and doesn’t wait. You have to take care of the animals in the barn.

Since Yunho was the town’s sheriff earned enough money for the both of you it wasn’t necessary for you to have a huge farm. A couple of pigs, some hens, two horses and a cow was well enough and tending to them was the only labor you ought to do. 

You traded your nightgown for a dress more appropriate to work in. A light blue flowy ankle length dress with long sleeves and a high neckline that was going to protect your skin from the hot sun, but would still let you breathe through the light material.

You hoped in your worn out brown leather ankle boots and headed to the barn. First of all, you start by checking if the hens laid eggs, you gently push the chickens to harvest the six eggs and place them in your basket that you set aside then you go to feed the cow. You go to take a big serving of hay and you make a mental note that you’ll have to go by the neighboring farm and purchase some more because you are running out. Maybe the cow and horses have been especially hungry lately. 

You place the hay in the big manger and head to the fence to let the cow take a stroll in the prairie next to the house. 

As you reach out the fence, you nearly scream. The handle is covered in blood. The colors leave your face as you realize that the traces are fresh as you see one single drop on the dusty floor. You squint and realize there’s a trail of blood going out the barn. You follow the trail circling the barn and landing behind it, the trail disappearing behind tall weeds and bushes that you had left unattended for quite a while.

You pushed aside the leaves and discovered some rags maculated with blood and at the end of the trail a man, lying, his back resting against a small trunk, sitting on a pile of hay. Barely holding off.

Mingi didn't even know why he dragged his mutilated body out here to rot in the sun, he didn't know why he took that chance. He just had to. If he wasn't going to see the sun rise again tomorrow then he at least wanted to see it set on a familiar face. A face he held in his memory so dearly. Even after all these years. 

After all this time, when he finally sees it, the face he pulled through thick and thin for. Your face. Your face emerging from the bushes. There are not enough words in the world for him to express the relief he feels. He doesn’t have enough time to carefully curate them and voice them outloud. So he only chooses to smile.

You, on the other hand, felt your heart jumping in your throat, the frantic muscle getting stuck there, making you swallow thickly as your eyes grow in surprise. You have trouble believing your senses. Have you stayed in the sun for too long? Have you contracted yellow fever? Can you trust your eyes, reflecting this image of the past? A figure you thought (and maybe even hoped) you would never see again?  But you know your eyes aren’t deceiving you the second his lips curl into a half smile, rounding up only one of his cheeks. The familiar sight takes you back to the hills, to the crackling bonfire, to the starry sky, to the warmth of his orbs. Even if you see the red tint of diluted blood on his teeth and the way pain twits his eyebrows. It’s the same. The same smile you remembered.

“Mingi?” you finally breathe out, broken voice hindered by your heart still sitting in your throat. Barely audible. But still heard by the beaten man. 

“Hi doll” his deep voice echoed yours, hardly louder than a whisper. 

There’s no resentment, no hatred, no evil in his voice, in his eyes. And for that instant you forget about the endless tales of horrors, about the murders and the blood and you forget about the wolf. Because you see only the sheep, hurt and needing your help.

You throw yourself on your knees next to him, you wrap your arms around him, careful to avoid the wounds. 

Mingi closes his eyes and you lean against him as he suppresses a cough. He almost forgot about the smell of your hair, about the warmth of your hands, about the sound of your voice. Almost, but he didn’t. He could never even if he tried. He could lose everything but you. And if you were only a memory then it was all he needed.

***

You brought the man inside, limping and leaning on your side. You sat him in the wooden and creaking chair of the dining room. The tall man grunted as he settled down.

You kneeled next to him. And very carefully, you lifted his long leather coat to uncover the blood maculated shirt.

"So... How does it look doc?" Mingi joked, even going as far as to lightly chuckle before the sharp pain on his side wiped the half smile off his face.

"Let me help you" you said, carefully peeling the fabric off, the coagulated blood stuck to the opened wound, making Mingi wince as he felt the air blow on his sweaty skin. You ran your finger across his skin, carefully avoiding the wound.

Your touch was so soft, so gentle. Mingi sighed, closing his eyes. Your tenderness almost making him forget about the pain jabbing him. It's been so long, so so long since Mingi has felt this. He hasn't felt a soft touch in a lifetime, a contact that was free of any kind of aggression, that didn't demand anything from him, that only intended to soothe him.

It's been so long since he's felt safe.

That was the word. He felt safe. Safe with you even though he was half naked, wounded and unarmed. He felt safe.

You took your time to treat the wound, cleaning it with what you had on hand, which was the rest of a bottle of home distilled bourbon, warm water and clean rags. You patched him up and handed him his hat back.

"You should go, Mingi" you started after a long silence. You tried to conceal the lump inside your throat as you enunciated the heavy words.

Mingi looked up at you, grabbing his hat. He didn't want to go.

"Y/n.. I-"

"You know he might come back. If he finds you here he's gonna..." you hesitated. “Finish the job”

"You mean kill me?" Mingi looked you dead in the eye, a coldness laying latent in his orbs, a coldness that gave you shivers along your spine even with the hot sun heating up the windows of the small dining room.

You closed your eyes shut trying to chase away tears. After all these years and all he’s done. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

Mingi wanted to scream. Why did he get to be with you, to touch you, to lay next to you every night while he was perpetually running, fleeing and living on the edge of the world like a wild dog. Barely surviving on the sole memory of you and the love he felt and feels for you.

"Mingi..." you started hesitantly. You had the chance to ask now, maybe this opportunity would never represent itself again.

"Why did you kiss me that night?"

Mingi’s anger evaporated into smoke as his eyes snapped to you. For all these years he had feared you somehow resented him. That somehow the tales of his life came back to you and poisoned your heart. He feared that you too saw him as the bandit, the outlaw he had become. But there was no hatred in your quavering voice, no bitterness pooling in your orbs. Only incomprehension and sorrow. 

Your eyes were glazed over by a sheen of budding tears, drooping in sorrow and you looked up intensely at the man. 

You waited for an answer, you waited long enough, you waited for years. And waiting again for those few seconds was too much.

“Why did you kiss me if you were going to leave me Mingi?” this time you called his name. And Mingi felt like the question had wrapped around his heart and was holding it tightly, squeezing it until the agonizing organ gave out.

“What did he tell you?” Mingi finally spoke, tipping his cowboy hat down, making sure to conceal his face.

“What?”

“What did Yunho tell you?” Mingi reiterated, this time his voice broke, echoing the shattering of his heart.

“I-” you started, stuttering.

“I never did any of those things, y/n” he finally rips the hat off his face, the disheveled and sweaty hair adding a layer of urgency to his state of despair as he raises his voice in frustration. “Yunho planted the evidence! He framed me! Because he couldn't stand that I was to become sheriff, he wanted to control the city, he wanted the power and he wanted… you…”

Mingi took a deep breath, his voice softening to a whisper. “He wanted you for himself. Because that night I-... I-” Mingi hesitated as you hung on his lips. “I wanted to marry you, y/n.”

You felt the blood vanish from your face. You became livid and your vision blurred, your world was crumbling before your very eyes.

“This is impossible” you whispered more to yourself than anything else.

“In the morning I told Yunho that I had kissed you and wanted to marry you and he couldn't bear it. So he framed me as a bad man to get me out of your life. I ain't no saint! I know! But the rest of it, I only did because I needed to survive. I stole to feed and killed to defend myself. Never in cold blood. Y/n, you have to believe me!”

Mingi’s words were mushing together barely making any sense in your ears that were already rigging, you felt dizzy, you felt ill. How could that be the man you married? The man you shared your life with. The man that looked at you with the most innocent big round eyes. The man that you knew cherrich justice above all else, so much that he didn’t care that sword of justice he was wielding struck his best friend because he was led astray and that was the treatment reserved for criminals. 

But that was all an act. It was never about righteousness and justice, it was about vengeance and envy.

Your knees gave out and you stumbled onto Mingi’s chest. He caught you in time, wrapping his strong arms around you, grunting as you pressed your weight onto the fresh wound. 

Your life was collapsing. Your chest started to heave up and down rapidly, your heart racing as your reality faded to black. Nothing to anchor yourself to. Nothing real, nothing you could hold on to to keep yourself afloat. Only lies and smoke. And you fell and fell into panic and into Mingi. 

Suddenly you were back again, back from the darkness and you looked at him to find your peace again, both lost in this familiar silence. He protectively wrapped his strong arms around you, and soothingly pressed your head against his chest, the leather of his long coat brushed against your cheek as Mingi held you just like that. He felt his warmth, you heard his heart beating against his ribs and you felt… him. Not the outcast, not the outlaw, but just your friend Mingi.

Ever so gently, with a softness you had never ever known from a man, even your husband, he wrapped his hands made rough from labor around your chin and gently lifted your face upwards, you found that Mingi’s eyes were as deep as the sea, just as mysterious and alluring, strangely welcoming.

And slowly, very slowly Mingi closed the distance between you. Giving you all the time in the world to voice your desire for him to stop if you felt that way. But you didn't want him to stop, instead you gripped at the long coat tighter, somehow afraid that he too was a mirage, a body made of haze that was just another lie. You had to make sure he, at least, was real. True.

And he was.

When your lips connected you felt as if your body has gone up into flames, open fire bursting from your chest to your heart, convincing you to close your eyes, and give complete access to Mingi. But even though he didn’t that use trust to his advantage, he didn't engulfed himself into you. Instead he gently deepened the kiss, taking the time to let you warm up as your fingers relaxed around the worn out leather. Mingi’s hands were getting to know you, caressing the soft cotton of your dress. His rough palms contrasted greatly with the softness of his touch.

Slowly he parted his lips, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth inviting your tongue into a dance, giving a few kitten licks and getting to taste you, you moaned when his hands reached down to the small of your back. 

“Mingi” you breathed against his mouth. There was no words to describe what that simple word did to him. Simply his name gently murmured like this. It was like having an angel speaking of the devil's name so fondly, so gently. He didn't feel worthy but there was plenty of time tomorrow for guilt. Today Mingi only had time for you.

He gently laid you back onto the wooden dining table and you hoisted yourself up on your elbows, he leaned over you as his kiss spilled from your lips to your neck. You whined once when your lips mourned the loss of his warmth and once when you felt his hot and wet tongue glide across the thin skin of your neck, you let your head fall back as Mingi progressed further down until he’s met with the collar of your dress. You don't want to lose the way he feels on your skin so your hands quickly busy themselves with the buttons, practically ripping them off to take the thick fabric that separated you from Mingi off you while he watches with this signature half smile, satisfied to see you so eager to expose yourself to him. 

As soon as you’re done with buttons he latched on your skin again, sucking on your collar bone going down and then up the curve of your breasts until he reached your bra he swiftly reached around to unclasp it, he drew back to see the way your beautiful breasts spilled out of the article, gently falling over at each side of your chest. Mingi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes avidly roamed over you, taking your form in. 

The way his eyes turned sharp as he looked at you made you squeeze your thigh together as your felt arousal pool into your lower stomach, heat spilling into your underwear.

“So pretty” he murmured before he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, immediately hardening into a tight nub. He flicked his tongue on the erected knob while his warm hand kneaded the other one, perfectly distributing his attention to your body, already feeling sensitive. You arched your back and pushed his face further into your skin when he sucked on the hardened nipple, making your moan his name. 

“Fuck- Mingi” you panted. “Don’t stop”

Mingi briefly stood back up to take the long coat off, only harboring the leather vest that let you admire his toned arms flexing as he ripped the coat off to throw it over one of the chairs. He didn't even bother taking the dress off you, only flipping it over your stomach as he pulled down your underpants, leaving your bottom half completely nude. 

Suddenly coy you pressed your thighs together, shielding your modesty from his ardent gaze, he looked back up at you with knitted brows, such desperation swimming in his eyes, as if he absolutely needed to see you.

“Please” he exhaled. “Please let me see you, y/n” he pleaded.

And you finally parted your legs, first your feet then your knees and finally your thighs.

“Fuck” Mingi cursed as he palmed his aching  lengh throught his pants. He was finally seeing you, like how he imagined you a thousand times. But even the wildest dreams could never live up to that reality, to the truth of you, you were breathtaking. The way your beautiful center was already swollen with need, twitching in anticipation to be touched, your folds covered with the glistening sheen of your juices lazily running down your entrance. 

Mingi felt like he’d finally seen the light. Like redemption was within grasp, somehow contained within your holy form. He felt like he needed to worship you, like he needed to get on his knees and so he did. 

He kneeled in front of you, snaking his arms around your things and grasping at the supple flesh to pull you closer to him, bringing his lips close to your most private of places.

You felt heat rush to your face and chest as your heart raced, uncontrollably hammering into your chest, menacing to break free anytime as Mingi dug his nose right into your folds. 

“Oh my g-” you gasped as soon as he made contact with you. Your head immediately spinning, your core quivering and demanding more.

Mingi planted one soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, then went to your entrance where he flattened his tongue to swiped it across, spreading your folds and scooping as much as your slick as possible, earning a whimper from you. Mingi wanted more of this, of your sweet taste, more of your honey coating his tongue, more of your beautiful voice singing soft melodies into his ears, more of your beautiful face looking down at him in pleasure, glossy eyes pleading for more.

“Baby” he moaned against you before burying his face into you, flicking his tongue on your clit as you moaned again, louder this time. Mingi concentrated on this part of you, assaulting your clit with flicks after flicks, jolts after jolts of divine pleasure, spreading heat in all of your limbs. Mingi felt your thighs tense up in his hold and he suddenly let go. 

You whined as you felt your desperate center throb for more of him. You looked up at him right on time to see him sink not one but two long fingers inside your tight heat. Immediately curling them into your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, once again you let out a lewd sound that bounces off the walls making the hairs on Mingi’s nape stand and his length leak arousal. 

“You like that?” he asked, deep voice a little more impatient.

“Yes!” you exhaled. “Please more, more” you begged, your eyes coming back into focus.

“Of course, doll” he said before coming back down to your demanding center. He pumped his long fingers in and out of your heat, each time your eager little cunt pulled them back inside, tightly gripping around them. He wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking and licking until you were on the verge of your release.

“Please” you said, your hand flying between your legs to keep Mingi’s face exactly where it was. “Don’t stop” you breathed, your thighs tensing, your swollen clit pulsing under Mingi’s wet and hot tongue.

“Fuck” you said, pressing on his face a little harder which made him smirk agaisnt you. “I'm cumming” you said in a strangled moan, you legs trembling your orgasming center gushing more and more of your honey , completely quenching Mingi’s thirst for your sweet nectar, walls fluttering around his fingers as he guided you down.

Mingi hurriedly kicked his pants off him and stood between your legs, large cock resting heavily in his palm, the head made red and shiny with precum.

“Please give me another one of those” he whispered with edginess, deep voice strained with need. “I wanna see and hear that again.” he rubbed his cock against your folds, mixing both of your essences into one, drenching his length with your slick. “Please this time cum on my cock” he gently pushed his tip inside you, closing his eyes shut as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock head, finishing your previous orgasm around his cock, your pretty little pussy pulsing around him as he continued to push himself in, breathing heavily to keep himself from bursting on the spot.

“Fuck” he cried, finally peeling his eyes open. “You feel so good around me baby” he breathed. “You’re so pretty, so perfect” he praised you. Taking a good look at you. You were stunning, beads of sweat running down your temples, your breasts spilling from the half undone dress, said dress completely wrinkled and roughed up, not hiding anything away from him anymore. 

“Ok” you said, out of breath, pushing a dampened strand of hair away from your face. “Make me cum around your cock, Mingi” you said, spreading your legs even wider, giving Mingi an even better view of his cock splitting you in two.

“Fuck-” Mingi cursed again, immediately taking you up on the offer. He started to pull out only to push back in again, just as gently. The way his girth split you open made you moan his name. You whimpered at the delicious stretch of your walls accommodating his generous mengh as he filled you up to the brim so perfectly almost like you were made for him entirely. 

“Please harder, Mingi” you said, your fingers pulling into the leather cropped vest, where you could see from underneath his toned abs and belly button. 

“Of course, doll” he said as he picked the pace, a wince of pleasure sneaking on his face when you gripped even tighter around him, letting out a satisfied groan. 

With each powerful thrust he was grazing against your g spot making your moan and arch your back, pushing your hips into him everytime he pushed himself back in.

“Fuck you’re so good to me baby” he panted, a large bead of sweat running from his hairline along the bridge of his sharp and long noze. 

You only replied with more moans, growing louder and louder as you both fucked each other, rocking the dining table recklessly the sound of your skin clashing and filling up the space along with groans and grunts.

“Baby, I'm close” Mingi said in a strangled and high pitched moan that was far from the usual deep voice he used.

“Me too” you answered “Please inside” you struggled to make sense. “Please cum inside me”

You didnt care about the consequences right now, moreover you weren't even thinking about them. You only thought about Mingi deep inside of you giving you the raw, rough unfiltered love you have been needing for years. Ever since he kissed you back on the hills. And suddenly you were back at the hilltop again.

Your body started to shake as you came undone again as Mingi delivered large and thick ropes of burning cum inside your heat, your name slipping off his lips a thousand times. Both of your bodies going up in flames, throwing each other in the fire that lighted you both as he kissed you again.

You pulsed uncontrollably around him, as he became sloppy, his thrusts more shallow and irregular until they came to a stop. He crashed over your body, panting, chest heaving up and down as you stroked his hair. He stayed inside you for a while, his cum lazily dripping out of you. He didn't want to lose this connection with you, he wanted to stay right there. Right here with you.

***

“Come with me” Mingi said as he was ready to hop on one of your horses, as the sun was setting over the fields. 

“Mingi I-” you started.

“Forget about him” Mingi cut you off before you have a chance to mention your husband's name. He took your hands into his big and rough ones. “Come back with me to the hills, y/n” he said. You opened your mouth to speak again but Mingi didn't let you talk. He was afraid of your answer. “We won't have much but we will have each other. And if I have you then I have everything” he pressed his chest against yours and you heard his heart beat into your ear, testifying of his true feelings, much deeper than any words. 

This was your chance to let the deceiving lies behind to embrace a life of true love. And you took your chance. As you hoped on the horse right behind Mingi, leaving the empty house behind. You held onto him, your fingers found their way and intertwining with the leather again as you rode into the sunset, lifting the dry dirt in your wake. The stars finally crossing as your destinies took the same path. The sun meeting you on the horizon, inviting you with it.

Two star crossed lovers on the sun.

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: phewww it is done! i cant even begin to explain the STRUGGLE i had while writing this but i hope it turned out good? maybe? it was wayyyy out of my comfort zone if you liked it please tell me in the comments or reblog (pls don't use the community labels please) or leave a nice ask. that would mean so much <3. anyways thank you for the awesome collab anne @ssaboala. don't forget to check out the other authors' amazing fics here. byeee~

[danisdistant]

sunday ramble - music

[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist]

★──────────★─────────★

★──────────★─────────★

music somehow runs in the halovian blood. it’s natural for birds to sing and communicate to one another, and it can’t be helped that halovians like to as well.

robin for example, sings and spreads the word of the harmony. sunday on the other hand, the order and entire dreamscape is his symphony. while he himself isn’t skillful in music itself, he somehow bases off his work and goal off of music notes.

whenever you’re around the siblings, they sometimes can’t help themselves to express their emotions through song.

with sunday, he would often hum one of robin’s songs if he’s in a good mood. his humming is always calming and feels almost therapeutic in a way. you can’t help yourself but hum along with him.

in complete contrast, he’s more silent when he’s in a bad mood, usually because something popped up in the dreamscape. to cheer him up, you would hum (maybe even sing if you’re feeling confident enough) a simple tune that you learned from robin.

your voice would cause him to perk up, and his wings would slightly flutter here and there with every high note you hit. now, whenever he feels down, he pushes everything and his work away just to have some time to listen to your voice.

and in vice-versa, if you’re the one feeling down, sunday would try his best to cheer you up through his own music as well, even if he’s not great at it (it’s the thought that counts). he hums, and sometimes would sing childhood songs that he and robin would sing together.

it definitely makes you feel better, listening to his voice that sometimes crack. he’s a tad bit embarrassed that he can’t sing as well as he wants to, visually apparent with each time his wing flicks at the wrong note, or how he tries to hide his face behind his own wings. But you reassure him that he doesn’t have to even sing that well for him to cheer you up!

seriously, being able to listen to him sing is a privilege. no one else besides you and robin hear him sing, after all, he feels as though he’d make himself a fool if other people and the public heard his out of tune “chirping.”

if you like to sing in the shower, chances are sunday is also listening to you. he hums along your tune as he reads a book or works on some papers. when you come out, he would sometimes ask you to continue, something that would fluster you as you realize that he’s been listening all along.

even if you don’t think you sound that great to his sister, or any other professional singer, he still enjoys listening to you sing. and if you think you’re really that bad, much to sunday’s disagreement, he would ask his sister to help tutor you, something that you graciously accepted.

★──────────★─────────★

BONUS:

“Risee up into my! Woo~rld!” You sang, making sure to control your pitch, volume, and vibrato with each word. “Renew your definition~!” Continuing on with the chorus, Robin smiled, watching the product after a week of teaching and tutoring you upon your request.

“Woo~rld so high, let me sho~ow,” Sunday was watching along side Robin, clapping along as he smiled. “And hear my declaration… No more ties.~”

“Huff… How was that?”

“You did amazing, [Name]!” Robin cheered, clapping alongside her brother as he nodded in response. “Indeed. Your singing has definitely improved. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” You ushered, looking to the side as you can’t help but blush in some form of embarrassment. If you were also a Halovian, you would have hid your face behind a pair of wings.

“How about a quick trip to Golden Hour for a snack? [Name] deserves some sort of reward for her impressive performance.” Sunday suggested, something that you graciously accepted.

“I’d love to join, but I have another recording session in a couple of minutes… Get me some Oak Cake Roll when you can brother!” Robin chirped as the two of you headed off.

Along the trip, neither of you could stop humming to Robin’s latest song.

★──────────★─────────★

[starrdevereauxx]

I said last time would be the last time.

Brandon broke up with me 6 months ago. I’ve been a wreck for weeks on end. I promised myself to get over it, but it’s been such a hard thing to process. We would always fight, make up, make love and act like nothing ever happened. He was gone this time. This was the longest we ever been apart.

I try to find things to do to pass the time, but nothing ever seems to take my mind off him. I still smell him, breathe him, and feel him through my body. Our mutual friends always give messages about him, but I’ve been ignoring them lately. My heart can’t take listening to his name, let alone hearing of any accomplishments.

I need to run my errands today, but like everyday I become sad running them alone. We did everything together, after 6 years I can’t believe that we don’t do this anymore.

Heading to the grocery store I become sad with my list of groceries for one instead of two. I hop in my car and turn on “our” playlist. Hoping I can borrow a feeling from any song that plays. Another slow song begins to play and I’m seeing myself in the mirror. Envisioning him touching me, wishing my hands were his. Rubbing the side of my face, choking me ever so lightly. I literally just felt my pussy drip at this light.

“Get it together Dev” I say trying to convince myself that I’m over him. Knowing damn well I’m not. I can feel him inside my pussy when I think about him. The feeling intensifies with every breath I take.

I gather myself to go inside of the store, with my lonely list of single items. Looking at the list I just remember every single meal I ever made for him. Pouring my heart into each meal, now I can only make food for myself. I sob gathering myself for this lonely trip.

I walk through the store, gathering each item reluctantly. Wishing we were laughing together, talking about what we gonna pretend to watch on Netflix when we got back home. Saying pretend because it we wouldn’t make it pass the opening credits without his chocolate snicker veined dick engorged in my throat. He would be gagging me before we knew the name of the movie.

After looking at my cart, I figured I deserved a treat. I tried to maintain a healthy cart since I’m single, I need to stay in shape. The most physical activity I get is the gym these days, so I had to maintain some resemblance of care in my food intake. But with all the crying that I’ve been doing, today I deserve a treat. I decided to head back to the ice cream isle and help myself to something to lift my spirits.

As I walk to the back of the store with my headphones on, I’m letting Chris Brown sing me to a happy place. I almost begin to get a spring in my step as he’s talking about fucking someone back to sleep.

I make it to the ice cream section and I immediately look for Ben & Jerry’s tasty ass. I see it, straight ahead “Chunky Monkey”. I move my cart out of the way to reach for it. As I get ready to reach for the pint, I feel some thing grab me, startled I think I’m in trouble for climbing inside the refrigerator. Moving my headphones so I can hear, a deep, smoldering voice says

“that’s still your favorite ice cream I see, even though I also remember that your monkey was the only chunky I ever wanted”.

I’m fucking stuck. There’s only one voice I know that sounds like that, and my pussy dripping is letting me know exactly who it is.

“Brandon, oh wow. It’s crazy seeing you here. How are you?” I gulp nervously.

“You look good Dev, time has been good to you. But then again when has it not?” Brandon says as he looks at me like he’s about to take my throat from me right here in this store.

As I prepare to answer him, someone loudly over talks me.

“Babe, BABE.. do you want movie popcorn or kettle corn?” I turn to see a bubbly perky breasted young lady yelling to her significant other about popcorn. I turned back around to see if I see him, just for my heart to sink as I realize that there’s nobody here but me and Brandon here. She’s talking to him. Oh my God, he has a girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, I was just trying to get a hold of my fiancé, I didn’t mean to bump you, my apologies” she smiles.

“Kettle Corn baby, thank you” he replies.

She skips off to honor his request. I stand there putting my broken heart back in my chest, not making it obvious that I’m literally breaking apart inside. FIANCÉ!?!? What in the fuck is this? After 6 years together, he never asked me to marry him. I’m even more convinced that it was never going to be me.

“Well congratulations to you and your fiancé, you deserve happiness. Be well Brandon.” I say tearfully as I run off, forgetting my ice cream. At this point I just want to disappear.

I get to the register, pay for my items and hurry to my car.

It was a long walk to my car. I always parked far from stores because I loved to get my steps in. Every step counts to me. So I had enough time to cry myself to the car and be over it by the time I started my car.

I open my trunk and back seat to place my purse down as I organize my groceries in the back, just incase if I needed room for a surprise bullseye store trip. I think after that encounter, I deserve some retail therapy now.

As I near the finish of my organization, I feel someone tap me from behind and say “I thought we discussed you parking way the hell back here. Nobody can see you back here.” Brandon says with what looks like chunky monkey ice cream in his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? Where’s your fiancé? Why are you here? I-“ he stops me mid sentence, placing the ice cream in my hand.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you about Keisha. You didn’t deserve to find out like this” he says looking at me sincerely.

“You don’t owe me anything, we are over. It’s your life. We have both clearly moved on.” I say proudly, pretending that I don’t feel like bending over right now and letting him turn me into a Twinkie.

He stares at me in my eyes with a look I haven’t seen in so long, but I remember well. I break contact and go back to packing my car so I can leave this awkward encounter.

He grabs my arm forcefully, making me drop my car keys in the backseat. Turning me towards him, forcing me to look at him. I begin to tear away in anger because I’m loosing control to my body.

“Get the fuck off me Brandon, what in the hell is your problem. Let me the fuck go.”

I try to break free from his grip. I feel his dick literally growing with anticipation the more I fight.

He stops me and looks me in my eyes. He’s subdued me with his piercing glare. He presses up against me, placing his hands on my body. One softly but firmly on my neck and the other on my left breast, lightly massaging it and grazing the nipple ever so softly. My breathing becomes shallow and scattered. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Isn’t his fiancé near by or in the car wondering where he is. I’m sure she’s looking for him. In this moment, I don’t think either one of us cares. My pussy is wet and gushing between my panties that I know is drenched at this point.

“I know you feel what I feel for you. I haven’t had a day go by that I haven’t thought about you Dev. We broke up, but never really let go. If you tell me to let you go right now, I’ll stop and walk away forever. You want me to stop?” He says while looking me in my dough eyes. I have no voice to even reply. My red lips are pursed and parted from the small breaths I continue to take. I shake my head no while staring him completely in his eyes.

He leans onto me, kissing me softly, hand still wrapped around my neck. He kisses my lips softly and becomes more aggressive every time he touches his lips to mine. He parts my lips to slide his tongue inside my mouth, I close my mouth to proceed to suck his tongue. Feeling now that his dick is rock hard.

“Show me that you still love me” he says as I’m already unbuckling his jeans. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. Giving him my entire throat to use as he pleases. Forcing my head on and off his dick, using my mouth as his personal pocket pussy. Grabbing both sides of my face, moaning loudly in this parking structure like we are outside alone. He literally has no fear of being caught in this moment. Brandon’s dick is so deep down my throat that he’s breathing for the both of us.

I feel his precum slip pass my lips. He stops. He pulls me off my knees and stands me up, just to pull down my leggings, revealing my cummed in panties. He begins to take his dick to rub my clit while I stand there defenseless.

Brandon forcefully turns me around, placing me in position. I automatically arch the posture of my back, taking my hands to spread my giant ass to show my wet dripping pussy that’s salivating for his erection to be inside me.

“Such a good girl, still obedient like I remember. Tell me what you want” he orders me.

“Fuck me hard please. Take my pussy from me” I say patiently waiting for him to beat my pussy like an Undertaker versus Mankind cage match.

He forces his dick inside my tight wet pussy, moaning hard as he enters. I grip him hard with my pussy as he’s thrusting aggressively in and out of me.

He’s pulsating inside of me as he’s moving. I’m feeling every inch of him as he’s continuing to grow inside of me. Just moving back and forth, harder and harder. I’m moaning so loud and hard, tears in my eyes from how good it feels to have his dick inside me. Holding my breasts as he’s making me take his dick roughly outside where everyone can see.

“Oh my God Dev, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m about to cum. Do you want it in your favorite place?” He says as I scream out “Yes” in reply.

I fall to my knees like a sinner who needs prayer, open my mouth to the heavens and wait for him to bless me. He releases an outpouring of his creaminess all over my face and mouth, as I devour every drop that hits my throat.

He moans as he shakes out every drop til he’s empty. I swallow the rest of him and what’s left of my pride as he kisses me in completion. My pants still around my ankles, he grips my ass holding me in place as he continues to kiss me softly.

I buckle his pants as he helps me with mine. I brush my hand across his face and we embrace each other knowing that he has to go.

“Goodbye Brandon.” I kiss him on the cheek. He walks away silently. Staring back a few times before he’s out of my view.

I said last time would be the last time.

Happy Monday 💋

[monzabee]

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend. 

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off. 

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom. 

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick. 

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.” 

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.” 

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!” 

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?” 

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head. 

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress. 

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought. 

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.” 

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?” 

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.” 

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.” 

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?” 

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.” 

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

“We look each other normally.” 

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces. 

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.  

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.” 

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.” 

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?” 

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?” 

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal. 

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.” 

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.” 

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal. 

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in. 

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face. 

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.” 

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.” 

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?” 

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.” 

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.” 

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.” 

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.” 

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.” 

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks. 

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?” 

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.” 

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?” 

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face. 

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections. 

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well. 

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?” 

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?” 

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.” 

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.” 

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” 

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.” 

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.” 

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.” 

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns. 

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?” 

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.” 

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?” 

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him. 

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him. 

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.” 

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment. 

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment. 

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!” 

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents. 

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.” 

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.” 

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take. 

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.” 

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” He calls out. 

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.” 

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.” 

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side. 

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms. 

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?” 

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice. 

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!” 

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!” 

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply. 

“So, you don’t like me?” 

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–” 

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.” 

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.” 

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled. 

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him. 

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face. 

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.” 

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.” 

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips. 

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle. 

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.” 

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic based on Fallingforyou by the 1975… so friends to lovers w a she fell first he fell harder type deal..

Fallingforyou — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: The TWO times you had to hide the fact that you love him + the ONE time you finally don’t have to.

Word Count: 2K+ (Hi, what the fuck.)

Disclaimers/s — Pining, fluff, angst if you squint, and done!

A/N: I love the ‘the _ times you _, the _ time you _’, ykwim. I also didn’t follow through with the song… just realized… hey. ALSO. They’ve been friends for a while, like, a long time btw.

1. The one where he comes over because you couldn’t sleep.

You never expected to call him, of all people, when you were lying awake during the night.

Though, all your doubts seemed to vanish the second he answered your call. Despite it being three in the literal morning, his voice was hoarse as he questioned, “Hey, are you okay?”

Your face reddened, and you swallowed thickly. “You were asleep, sorry, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Arda quickly uttered your name softly, stopping you from hanging up. “I wasn’t sleeping, I was just finishing my laundry. Swear. You can’t sleep, right? I can come over. I’ll be there in ten, yeah?”

He was quite literally offering to come over for your sake because you couldn’t sleep. You found yourself unable to help the small frustration that bubbled up inside you—not at him, but at yourself. If he kept doing things like this, you were sure you would be officially head-over-heels in love with him… well, not that you weren’t already.

Realizing you had yet to respond, you spoke, “Yeah. Yeah, thank you. Really. You really don’t—”

“Don’t do that. I want to, okay? I promise you.”

“I didn’t even get to finish what I was saying!”

His laugh, small but contagious, brought a smile to your lips. “I know you weren’t. But I know you. I want to. I’ll be there soon, alright? Bye.”

“Yeah—bye, Arda.” With that, the call ends.

True to his word, he arrived ten minutes later. You greeted him at the door, helped him with his coat, and led both of you to your bedroom. He picked a movie; it was the least you could let him do.

With the movie flickering in the background, you noticed your gaze kept trailing back to him. You cursed yourself internally, can you get a grip?

It was when he met your gaze that you snapped out of your thoughts. His bottom lip jutted out, making you gulp. “Something on my face?”

You stammered, “Uh, nope! Not at all.”

“Are you lying to me? You’re lying to me.”

Save yourself. “Okay, I am, I’m sorry,” you grinned sheepishly, leaning forward and using your thumb to wipe off the imaginary residue of the chips you both had been eating. You felt your breath hitch in your throat; Arda didn’t notice. The proximity between the two of you was… stop. Just leave it.

But the intensity of his gaze made your heart ache with the urge to spill your feelings:

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love—

“Did you get it?” He asked, making you stiffen.

Quickly, you pull back and nod, “Yup! Got it.”

2. The one where he picks you up from a date-gone-wrong.

It had only been two weeks since your almost, semi… slip-up. You decided you needed to get over this, over him, as soon as possible. Now.

It was so very clear that he didn’t feel the same, though you didn’t know how you arrived to that conclusion. He didn’t exactly show that he didn’t, but he also didn’t show that he did. And that right there was enough to make you tighten your grip on the napkin placed delicately on your lap.

That’s the reason you were even here in the first place. You had agreed to your friend’s blind date setup. She had always believed it would be you and Arda, well, forever. However, after countless hours of listening to you vent about how he doesn’t feel the same, she figured this might be the only way for you to finally... get over him.

You hoped it did. You really did.

Alas, not all hopes are fulfilled.

The guy just droned on about himself for hours, completely ignoring you—what you do, what you like, what you love. You were tired and annoyed.

You concocted an excuse to cut the date short, paid for just your meal, said your goodbyes, and slipped out through the back. Of course, it was raining—just your luck! Exactly what you needed.

Whipping out your phone, you hesitated over your friend’s contact. She was busy. You knew she was. Arda wasn’t. How did you know? Because his last message to you was, ‘Have fun, let me know how it goes. I’ll be watching a movie.’

Have fun? Totally. With a brave resolve, you click ‘call’ and quickly press your phone to your ear, tapping your fingers incessantly on your pants as you wait for him to answer. If he answers.

Please answer.

“Hey, it’s done already?” His voice fills your ears. The question makes you sigh in response. He says your name quietly, “Is it—are you outside?”

“What? Oh. Oh, yes, I am.”

What? Even though you couldn’t see him, Arda’s eyebrows raise almost instantly at that. “It’s raining. Where’s your date? Are you by yourself?”

"Well, I left. God, it was awful," you complained, running a hand over your face. "He just kept going on and on about himself, never once asking how my day was. Is that—it was such a simple thing!”

He says your name, “You could get sick.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. My hair took so long to do too.”

“I know, I know—just, go back inside!”

You ignore him, “Can you come get me, please?”

“I’m already on my way, go back inside,” he echoed. The sound of his air conditioning blowing through the speaker made you let out a breath of relief. “I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if I could, you muttered to yourself while he hung up the phone, wiping it against your sweater and shoving it back into your pocket.

You didn’t go back inside. One, you didn’t want to. Two, you actually couldn’t. It was locked. Closed.

Instead, you found a bench nearby and sat down, your gaze drawn to the neon signs across the street. It wasn’t even raining that badly, it was a slight sprinkle. It obviously didn’t seem that way when he came, parked, and hurried out with an umbrella. “I thought I told you to go back inside.”

“Hey,” you frowned, “It was closed. It’s all closed.”

Arda huffed, holding the umbrella above you both, his expression softening at the sight of you shivering. It wasn’t that bad, just a little. Gently grasping your arm, he pulled you up and took your hand in his, guiding it to the pocket of his hoodie. You welcomed the warmth, your other hand shoved into your jean pocket. Just as you were about to speak, you felt the subtle rub of his thumb against your knuckles. Oh. My. God.

He was driving you absolutely crazy.

You felt like a mannequin being moved around when he walked you to his car, opened the passenger side door, helped you inside, and even buckled your seatbelt. How could you go on dates when the man you truly wanted was right here?

You were so lost in a daze that you didn’t even realize he was taking off his hoodie and slipping it over your head and onto your torso until you heard him ask, “How’s that?”

Looking up at him, you opened your mouth to respond, “Arda, I—” love you. Don’t. Clamping your mouth shut, you nodded and thanked him.

All he did was nod, smile, and shut your door.

Maybe next time.

3. The one where you can’t hold back anymore and confess.

Even after a week, you still kept his hoodie.

As soon as he dropped you off, you stripped it off and washed it, determined to give it back the next time you saw him... but you didn’t stick to that.

You saw him three times. You never gave it back.

It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, even though you really didn’t want to; it was mostly because you forgot. You lacked the warm clothes you needed, and his hoodie fulfilled that need. So—

Your phone rang, making you quirk a brow.

Picking up your phone, a sense of curiosity washed over you when you saw Arda’s contact name and photo on the screen.

With a bit of hesitation, you answer. “Hey… you.”

“Hey, are you home?”

“Yeah, I am! Are you okay? Do I need to pick you up from a bad date or something?”

He laughs, “You wish.”

No. No, you don’t wish. “Yup… I do.”

“I just wanted to call and tell you that I’m out front, can you let me in? Please?”

Out front? “You’re—why are you here? I mean, I’ll open my door, you’re always welcome, obviously.”

“Am I not allowed to visit my best friend?” The moment those words left his mouth, a bitter tinge rose within you. Best friend. Right, of course.

Swallowing hard, you managed to laugh, “Yeah, yeah, you are. I’m on my way. See you in a bit.”

Entering your living room, you grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open. Even though you expected him, the sight of him made your heart skip a beat. As you allowed him inside, Arda muttered a small, quiet “thank you” while walking in, watching as you smiled and shut the door.

“You cleaned, huh? It looks nice. My hoodie?”

“Your—right. It’s warm! And for your information, I always clean,” you replied, “…every other day. Is there anything you wanted to do? I have snacks, board games—oh! Can we watch a horror movie?”

You notice the way the corners of his lips twitch at your enthusiasm. “It is October, isn’t it?”

A hum, “It is!”

“Then, of course. Anything you want,” he said.

Anything you want. His words reverberated in your mind. Did he like you? Did he not?

Arda murmurs your name, his head tilting, and he steps closer. “Hey, are you okay? You seemed to shut down on me for a second there.”

“No, yeah. I’m okay. Just… deciding on which horror movie we should watch. It’s crucial, really.”

A lie. He knew it. “That’s a lie. You’re lying to me.”

“No, I already thought of about five we could watch and finish by tomorrow,” a pause, “We should probably start now if we want to finish.”

He says your name once again, and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to just tell him how you feel. ‘Maybe next time,’ you had told yourself. Now’s the time. But... was it actually?

His gaze flickers over your features, sending a shiver down your spine. It was concern, worry, and… something else. Something you couldn’t quite grasp, but it practically gnawed at you.

You’d reached your limit. “Don’t do that, Arda.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Do what?”

Like you could actually love me, you had thought. Then, when you saw him stiffen, you realized you hadn’t just thought it—you had said it.

Embarrassed. Completely and utterly sick.

“Okay, I didn’t—sorry, I’m sorry,” you sputtered, shaking your head and stepping away from him. “You should go. Yeah, please go. I—”

His hands cupping your jaw were enough to make you shut your mouth. “Stop. Please, stop.”

“I’m embarrassed! This is so embarrassing.”

“Why? Why’re you embarrassed?” He inquired, eyes narrowing, “Hey, listen, I love you.”

No. No. No. “You’re just saying that.”

The man shakes his head, “It’s always been you.”

You don’t believe that. How could you? “Are you lying? If you are, that is so not funny.”

A shaky laugh escapes his lips. “I love you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you.”

“I have no idea?” You scoffed playfully, still in disbelief. “You have no idea! I was—how long?”

“It was the second you told me you were going on a date, that was… when I realized,” he explains, his face flushed. He lets out a breath. “All I remember was wishing it was me, me who asked you out, me who got to be by your side all night. Hearing how he didn’t care enough to get to know you, it annoyed me more than it should’ve.”

I remember wishing it was me.

You didn’t even know what to say; the only words capable of leaving your lips were, “Does this mean I’m able to keep your hoodie?”

He nods, his tongue poking the side of his cheek, “Yes, you can keep it. Anything you want.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[razorblade180]

Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.