#and I normally get a little something for them

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[kirammanswifey]

hello!!! I really enjoy reading your writing, always reading them like it's a bedtime story lol. I was wondering how arcane characters would react with you wearing their clothes. like after a long day they come home and see you in their clothes or like you fall in a puddle and they give you their clothes to wear, anything you want

thank you for your words, sweetheart, you just made my day, hope you like this ;)

how arcane characters would react to you wearing their clothes (fem reader, romance/fluff)

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i love you, person who asked for this. this kind of dynamics are fun because you can write it from many perspectives and use several genres, and i love a fluff with a little bit of spicy. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

The sound of the door closing behind you seems louder in the silence of the room. The rain hasn't stopped outside, and each drop seems to remind you how soaked you are. Your wet clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin, and you decide you can't stay like this. You look around, and your eyes land on one of Viktor's shirts, casually draped over the back of a chair. You know he won’t mind, so you grab it and head to the bathroom to change.

The soft fabric of Viktor's shirt, slightly oversized for you, falls over your shoulders, enveloping you in its characteristic scent—a mix of old paper, ink, and something you've always associated with him. You feel a little warmer, wrapped in something so intimately his.

Soon after, you hear the familiar click of Viktor’s cane in the hallway. He’s back home after a long day at the lab. You know he must be exhausted too, but you still feel a little nervous about how he’ll react to seeing you in his clothes.

The door opens slowly, and Viktor steps inside. His slender figure pauses for a moment when he sees you, his amber eyes studying you with a mix of surprise and something else you can't fully identify. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can see his normally neutral expression gradually soften.

“Did you have a rough day?” he finally asks, his voice soft and concerned as he closes the door behind him.

You nod, fiddling with the long sleeves of the shirt that come down almost to the middle of your hands. “Yeah, I got caught in the rain on my way back,” you explain. “I changed so I wouldn’t soak everything, hope you don’t mind me wearing your shirt.”

He takes a few steps toward you, leaning slightly on his cane. His eyes linger on you, but this time there’s a warmth in them that he rarely shows. “I don’t mind at all,” he says, a faint smile curving his lips. “Though I must admit, it looks better on you than I expected.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at his comment, and he seems to notice, because his smile widens slightly. Viktor rarely makes such remarks, but when he does, they always leave you momentarily speechless.

“Come here,” he says gently, extending his free hand toward you. “You’re shivering. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapping around yours. He leads you to the couch and helps you sit. “I’ll make something warm for you. Wait here.”

You watch as he moves toward the kitchen, his steps careful and precise. As you watch him, you can’t help but feel a mix of tenderness and admiration. Viktor is always so considerate, even when he’s exhausted.

A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming cup of tea. He sits next to you, offering it with a look that reflects both concern and something more intimate. “Drink slowly, it’s hot.”

You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread from your throat to your chest. “Thanks, darling. You always know how to take care of me.”

He looks at you, his expression more relaxed now. “It’s natural to want to take care of someone who means so much to you,” he says with a sincerity that makes your heart race.

You set the cup down on the table, turning toward him. “And you? How was your day?”

Viktor leans back against the couch, his gaze drifting for a moment. “It was... long. But seeing you here, wearing my shirt, makes it all worth it.”

His words are simple, but the weight behind them hits you hard. You lean toward him, taking his hand in yours. “I like wearing your clothes. It makes me feel close to you, like I’m carrying a piece of you with me.”

Viktor looks at you, his expression softening even more. “Then you should wear them more often,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a mix of affection and tenderness. “Though it might be hard to get them back if you look this good in them.”

You smile, feeling completely at home in this little world you’ve built together. “Maybe I’ll never return them,” you joke, enjoying the soft laugh that escapes his lips.

He leans in a little closer, his hand gently caressing yours. “That wouldn’t be a problem. I can always buy more, but seeing you like this... that’s something priceless.”

Jinx

You're at Jinx's hideout after a day full of adventures in Zaun. You had been helping her with some of her projects, and amidst all the excitement and chaos, you ended up with your clothes completely ruined, covered in paint and grease stains.

"Wow, wow! Look at you!" Jinx says, laughing as she points at your shirt and pants. "Looks like your clothes lost the battle against my masterpiece."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, looks like I need a change of clothes urgently."

Without missing a beat, Jinx jumps towards one of her wardrobes, rummaging through her quirky collection of garments. "I know! Put this on." She pulls out a black crop top and one of her signature jackets—blue with neon details—and tosses them to you with a mischievous grin. "You'll look awesome. Trust me."

After taking off your dirty clothes, you put on the crop top and finish with the jacket. "How do I look?" you ask, spinning around so Jinx can see.

She watches you with a growing smile. Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she quickly approaches, tugging at the sleeves to adjust them on your arms. "Oh, for the love of explosions! You look amazing! It's like this jacket was made for you!" Jinx steps back to admire you better, placing a hand on her chin as if evaluating a piece of art.

"It's not what I usually wear, but your style suits me better than I thought," you say, feeling the warmth of her gaze.

Jinx claps, thrilled. "I knew it! I knew it! My instincts never fail." Then, her eyes light up even more, as if she just had the most brilliant idea in the world. "I know! From now on, we could wear matching outfits. It'd be awesome! You and me, matching styles, taking Zaun by storm as an unstoppable duo."

You laugh at her enthusiasm. "Matching outfits? That sounds... interesting."

"No, no, no! It sounds absolutely amazing," she insists, giving you a quick spin to see how the jacket fits from all angles. Suddenly, her eyes stop on the back of the jacket, and an even bigger smile spreads across her face.

"What is it, sweets?" you ask, noticing her fixed gaze.

"Well... look at the back," she says with a mischievous laugh.

You turn to see the back of the jacket and realize that, in big letters, it has "Jinx" written on it. You turn back to her with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile. "So, you're marking your territory or what? You don't want anyone getting confused about whose jacket this is?"

Jinx bursts into laughter, throwing herself at you and wrapping her arms around you. "Exactly! Now everyone will know you're mine... or at least rocking my style! It's perfect, right?"

You join her laughter, wrapping your arms around her. "Aw sweets, I didn't know you were the type to mark your territory."

She shrugs with a cheeky grin, her face close to yours. "Well, I don't want anyone else claiming my girl. Now everyone will know if they see you, they're looking at half of our dynamic duo!"

Jinx's energy is contagious, and although you know this situation is completely crazy, you can't help but feel comfortable and cherished by her. "Well, I guess I have no choice but to embrace my new look," you say with a smile.

"That's it! Now, with this jacket and my name on your back, we'll be unstoppable!" Jinx leans in, putting an arm around your shoulders and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Vi

You’d had a bad day. The city of Zaun wasn’t exactly friendly, and after a stumble, you ended up in a puddle full of dirty water with a nauseating smell you couldn't even describe. As you walked towards Vi’s place, with your legs soaked and irritation taking over, all you could think about was how lucky you were to have Vi to vent to and shake off this bad day.

When you arrived at her door, frustration and exhaustion were written all over your face. You knocked on the door, and as always, Vi opened it with a teasing smile, though upon seeing you like this, her expression changed to a mix of concern and amusement.

“What happened to you?” she asked with a playful grin, noticing the discouragement on your face.

"Zaun," you grunted, almost growling as you stepped inside. "I fell into a puddle. Everything stinks."

Vi let out a soft laugh. “Wow! You must be thrilled. Are you sure you're not going to become Zaun's new statue?” she said in her sarcastic tone, but there was something more in her eyes. A hidden concern behind her teasing tone.

“I’m not in the mood,” you muttered as you headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The sensation of the hot water was comforting, and after a few minutes, you managed to feel like some of your bad day had washed away. However, upon exiting, you realized you didn’t have anything else to wear.

Vi, always attentive to these details, had left one of her favorite shirts on the bed. The red shirt, which always fit you loosely and had, over time, become something you wore more often. You put it on without thinking too much. The smell of Vi on the garment gave you a sense of calm, but at the same time, the tension that had always existed between you grew a bit more.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Vi was in the living room, lying back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. She watched you silently as you entered, a gleam in her eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. The shirt, oversized on you, moved with each of your steps, and despite how awkward the situation could be, you felt incredibly drawn to her gaze.

Vi sat up straight, her eyes fixed on you. The smile that spread across her face was almost predatory. “So, you’re wearing it again, huh?” Her voice was soft, but there was a touch of challenge and desire in it that you couldn’t ignore. “You look... interesting.”

You shrugged, though the way she looked at you made you feel more exposed than you’d like. “You left it there for me, Vi. And yes, I like wearing it, it's comfortable.” But as you spoke, her eyes didn’t leave you, scanning you from top to bottom with that intensity that always made time seem to stop.

Vi approached slowly, her steps sure, almost as if she was savoring every second that passed near you. “Just comfortable? Are you sure?” Her voice was lower now, filled with a dangerous softness. “Because that shirt... it’s kind of sexy. And it seems like it’s not just the shirt. It’s like you’re saying, ‘I’m yours,’ but without saying it out loud.”

The atmosphere became heavy, the tension floating in the air was impossible to miss. Your cheeks flushed red at Vi’s proximity, at the words she had said and the way she had said them. You tried to maintain your composure, but the heat in your body didn’t lie.

“And what if it is?” you asked, your words bolder than you thought, as you looked her in the eyes.

Vi stopped in front of you, her hands resting on her hips, watching you with a mix of challenge and attraction. “Then,” she said, her eyes sparkling with complicity, “can I claim you as mine?” The way she said it, with that low, enveloping tone, made your heart race. The tension between the two of you was palpable, as if the distance between you disappeared with every word.

You stepped closer, enough to feel the warmth of her body, her breath almost on yours. “I don’t think you need to ask for permission,” you said, using a defiant smile, knowing the game had begun.

Vi smiled with that mischievous glint in her eyes, stepping even closer. “You’re right. I marked you as mine long before you wore this shirt.” She tugged at the hem of the shirt and pulled you closer to her. “But, do you want me to mark you now in another way?”

You felt everything inside you react to her closeness, and you knew this was about to get much more intense. Vi always had that power over you, and the way she was looking at you now proved it.

“That sounds tempting,” you murmured, your words coming out softer than you expected, but without regret.

With a satisfied smile, Vi finally took you by the waist and gently brought your lips to hers. “Then let’s not waste time, little deer,” she whispered before kissing you with an intensity as great as your desire for her.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn and you had just returned from a recent mission. It had been a long day, filled with tensions, reports, and the constant need to maintain the facade of control. But now, after leaving the worries behind, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy Caitlyn's company, who always managed to make the chaos of the day fade away, at least for a while.

In the bathroom, the steam mixed with the heat, surrounding you as you sank into the relaxation the tub brought. Caitlyn was beside you, dipping into the water to wet her hair, the situation beginning to feel more intimate than usual. Both of you had made it a habit to share a bath after work, an opportunity to shed the physical and mental tensions.

Though you had been together in moments of camaraderie, the brush of your wet bodies in the water created a new, different sensation. Caitlyn's hands sometimes slid softly over your back, seeking to relax tense muscles, and you reciprocated, letting out sighs as the closeness became more palpable. Occasionally, her fingers lingered a bit longer than necessary, touching you with a softness that made you shiver.

After finishing, Caitlyn was the first to step out of the bath, running a towel through her hair with a certain awkwardness. "I need something comfortable, do you mind if we wear pajamas?" she asked, almost without thinking, as she headed to her room. There was no need to ask, as something always felt very natural about how she behaved with you, though this time something in her demeanor caught your attention.

When you entered her room, Caitlyn had already changed, but she left the door slightly ajar while pulling out a long-sleeved shirt and comfortable pants. The sight of her bare back made you stop for a moment, watching her with a mix of admiration and restrained desire. It wasn’t the first time you had seen her in light clothing, but something about her attitude tonight felt different. As she dressed, her movements were softer, more... delicate, as if she were waiting for something. Caitlyn turned just as you walked in, giving you the chance to see her in her comfortable clothes.

"Don’t look at me like that," she said, smiling, as always, with that mix of challenge and amusement in her gaze.

"Impossible not to, sheriff," you joked, moving closer to grab your own pajamas and change, but before you could do so, Caitlyn looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uncomfortable in a pleasant way.

You stopped, confused by the intensity in her gaze. "What’s wrong, Cait?" you asked, with a soft smile, feeling how the atmosphere was becoming heavier. "You’re acting different."

Caitlyn took a step toward you, approaching with her typical leader stance, but something in her face said she wasn’t as sure of herself as usual. Her fingers played with the edge of her shirt as she looked at you. "It’s just that..." she began, clearly hesitant, "it’s just that... I like seeing you in my clothes. It’s not just that they fit you well, it’s that... it feels right."

The air between you suddenly thickened, the tension floating, as if her words had opened a door neither of you knew if you were ready to cross. Caitlyn, usually so confident, was now showing vulnerability, but with a vulnerability you had never seen in her before.

You approached her, noticing how her eyes shone a little more than usual. You took her by the shoulders, with a softness that contrasted with her strong character. "Why is it so important to you?" you asked in a low voice, feeling that this moment was different from any other you had experienced with her.

Caitlyn sighed, her fingers touching the fabric of her shirt on your skin. "It’s... hard to explain, but seeing you in my clothes makes me feel closer to you, as if we were even more... partners. It’s weird, I know."

For a moment, all you could do was look at her, your heart pounding in your chest as you processed her words. Caitlyn, so reserved, so firm always, was showing you a side of her that she only shared with you. And that made you feel more connected than ever.

You took her hand, gently stroking it and recognizing the vulnerability in her posture. "I understand," you said, smiling softly. "I like seeing you like this too. Not just in your clothes... but in everything you are. I don’t mind."

Caitlyn looked at you, a shy but genuine smile appearing on her face as her eyes softened. "I guess I’m always looking for ways to stay in control... but with you, it seems I let go of that facade," she said, almost as if speaking to herself. "I feel better when I have you close."

Then, without warning, Caitlyn hugged you, wrapping her arms around you protectively, a soft caress, almost as if seeking comfort. The hug lingered, and in that moment everything seemed to stop. The mission, the worries, the rules. It was just the moment when the two of you truly felt connected, without any barriers separating you.

Jayce

After a long, exhausting day filled with endless debates in the Council, Jayce finally arrives home. The doors open with a soft creak, and the sound of his footsteps echoes down the quiet hallway. You know he’s had a rough day, and you’ve prepared to welcome him in the best way possible. You’ve been working on dinner, almost ready for when he returns, but the most important part is how you plan to greet him.

You’re in the living room, holding a glass of wine, your body draped in Jayce’s white shirt. You know it’s much larger on you than it is on him, and you’ve done it intentionally. Traditional dresses or outfits seem unnecessary now; all you want is to see him relax, to feel good after a long day.

As he approaches, his eyes widen at the sight of you, his shirt hanging off your shoulders, the hem brushing your thighs. However, what catches his attention the most is how you’re wearing nothing underneath. The contrast between your relaxed demeanor and the tension reflected in his face is immediate.

“Welcome home,” you say with a soft smile, raising the glass of wine towards him. “I thought you could use some rest.”

Jayce takes a long breath, as if trying to maintain his composure, but it’s clear that the sight before him has thrown him off balance. His eyes briefly trail over your figure before meeting yours, where the tension is palpable.

“What… what are you doing?” he asks, clearly affected but trying to keep his tone serious, though his eyes betray him.

“I’ve prepared some dinner,” you respond with a playful smile. “Come to the kitchen with me, please. It’s almost ready.”

As you walk towards the kitchen, you can feel his gaze fixed on you. Jayce can’t help but follow you with his eyes, appreciating every detail of your form, especially the way the shirt clings to your body, leaving little to the imagination. The atmosphere in the house has changed, becoming warmer, but also more charged than anyone could have anticipated.

When you reach the kitchen, you start chopping some vegetables, focused on the task but fully aware that Jayce hasn’t stopped looking at you for even a second. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the space initially, but as time passes, you feel the tension between you both growing.

It’s as if the air thickens, and finally, he can’t resist anymore. Jayce steps forward, slowly moving behind you until you can feel his warmth against your back. His body presses against yours, his breathing now deep and almost irregular. The closeness of his body makes your heart race faster, and the brush of his chest against your back heightens the intensity of the situation… in the best way.

“You look incredible,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to admit what he’s feeling. His breath grazes your neck, and the heat of his body melds with yours, filling you with an electric sensation. “Seeing you in my shirt... I can’t handle it. It turns me on more than I’d like to admit.”

You feel your skin prickling at his words, and for a moment, the knife in your hand is suspended in the air. But you don’t let it fall, even though you’re close to losing yourself in the sensation he provokes in you.

“Oh, really?” you tease, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “What, are you jealous of your own clothes?”

Jayce chuckles softly, a sound full of tension and desire. “It’s not jealousy,” he responds with a smile that barely conceals what he’s feeling. “It’s... fascination. I didn’t know something as simple as a shirt could... affect me this way.”

You feel him move even closer, his body now pressed fully against yours, making the space between you nearly vanish. His hand, soft yet firm, rests on your hip, and the contact is so intimate you could swear the world is about to fade away in that instant.

“You look so good,” he says, his tone now deeper, filled with desire. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life.” His erection clearly pressing against your backside.

Finally, after that whisper full of desire, Jayce pulls back slightly, looking down with a small smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so direct… but I couldn’t help it. You drive me crazy.”

You turn fully towards him, still smiling, as you take a step closer, closing the gap. “I don’t want apologies. I just want you.” You whisper, before cupping his face in your hands and devouring his lips.

Ekko

Ekko enters his workshop, closing the door with a tired sigh. The gears keep turning, the hum of the machines welcomes him as always. You step into the space after hearing his footsteps. Ekko didn’t expect to find an unexpected scene: you, wearing his orange bandana around your neck, his sleeveless white shirt, and a pair of his baggy pants that barely allow you to walk properly. It was like you were cosplaying him.

You throw him a playful look as you adjust the shirt, which is obviously much larger than you. You smile as you see his eyes widen slightly, observing your figure draped in his clothes.

"What? Do you like my style?" you ask with a mischievous tone, noticing the sparkle in his eyes. The Ekko you know isn't easily startled, but now, you can tell something has slightly caught him off guard.

"I wasn’t expecting this," he responds with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he watches you with a mix of interest and amusement. "So, you took over my clothes without asking? Are you planning to take my entire wardrobe too, or just this for now?"

Your laughter is soft but playful. You know you're teasing him, but you enjoy seeing how his confident attitude meets this little challenge. "Does it bother you?" you ask as you step closer, playful.

Ekko takes a step towards you, wearing that characteristic, confident smile. "Of course, it doesn’t bother me, babe," he replies in a teasing tone, moving closer. "It’s just that I feel bad saying it doesn't suit you as much as it suits me," Ekko puffed out his chest with an air of arrogance that made you roll your eyes.

"Please, Ekko, we both know you're only saying that because you feel threatened. It’s not my fault your clothes look better on me than on you. It gives me a mysterious vibe," you joke in the same tone.

Ekko lets out a laugh, one that shows he’s fully into the joke, enjoying the chemistry between you two. "Mysterious, huh? You’re right. It’s strange seeing you so... you, but with a touch of my style," he responds, still smiling.

At that moment, you look him directly in the eyes, and without thinking, you say with a mischievous smile, "I think it’s going to cost you a lot to get it back, huh? Maybe I’ll make you a deal... I’ll give it back, but in exchange for something."

Ekko's face lights up with a grin of complicity. "Hmm, I don’t know if I want to know what kind of deal you have in mind," he replies in a low voice, clearly interested. "But now that you mention it, I might be willing to negotiate."

The tension in the air becomes more palpable, the electricity between you more intense. Ekko seems relaxed, but his gaze, his posture, everything about him says he’s enjoying the situation. You can’t help it; the power play between you is present, and you both enjoy it.

You step a little closer, almost closing the space between you and Ekko, feeling his warmth and the vibrant energy that always accompanies him. "Are you really willing to negotiate?" you ask, tilting your head slightly, letting your tone become a bit softer, more seductive. "Because if you are, I have a few ideas..."

Ekko looks at you with those bright eyes, always full of life and challenge. "Oh, I see you come with plans," he replies, his voice low and deep, full of the same playful energy you both are enjoying. "Tell me, what kind of deal do you have in mind?"

You slide your hands around his neck, letting them rest on his shoulders, while you play with one of his dreadlocks. "Well, you could start by convincing me why I should give you back your clothes," you whisper, leaning in close enough that your breath brushes against his skin.

Ekko smiles, clearly enjoying this little game. "Convince you, huh?" His hand slowly travels to your waist, holding you with a confidence that has always fascinated you. "What if I propose something? Maybe we could share it."

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, pretending surprise. "Share it? Wow, that sounds pretty generous of you. But what do I get out of it?"

Ekko tilts his head to the side, studying you with that sharp gaze that always seems to see more than you let on. "You get to have something of mine, something that reminds you of me every time you wear it. And I... I get the lucky chance to see you wearing it, like now."

His words, full of sincerity but wrapped in that light, playful tone, make your heart race a little faster. You feel the warmth of his hand on your waist, his proximity, and you can’t help but smile. "Sounds like a good deal," you murmur, brushing your nose against his.

Ekko holds you closer, his smile soft but confident. "And maybe, every now and then, you’ll let me get a piece of clothing back... but only if you promise to return it like this, with your added style."

You laugh softly, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body and the soft drumming of his heart under your hand. "Sounds fair," you reply before closing the distance between you and sealing the deal with a soft but meaningful kiss.

Silco

The atmosphere in Silco's office is always charged. The dim light from the lamps illuminates the dark corners of the room as he sits behind his desk, his calculating eyes focused on the pile of papers and documents in front of him. Since taking control of Zaun, his life has been immersed in a routine of power and difficult decisions.

However, today something has changed. Today, you have sneaked into his space. He knew you were approaching, he had heard your footsteps, but it wasn't until you entered that he realized what was about to happen.

You approach him with a firm step, and without warning, you settle on his lap, making him pause in what he was doing. You’re wearing his jacket, large, with the collar up, covering you completely and hanging from your shoulders. The garment is unmistakably his, and it fits you in a way Silco couldn’t have anticipated. The jacket, which gives your figure a more mysterious and dominant air, seems to imbue you with more than just his style; it makes you part of his world.

You settle comfortably on him, smiling playfully, enjoying the control you have over the situation. Silco observes you with a slight smile on his lips, though he doesn’t take his eyes off you. At first, he says nothing, but when his eyes fix on your clothing, his tone subtly changes, filled with that authoritative air that characterizes him so well.

"You've been holed up here all day, not paying much attention," you confess in a tender whisper.

"Is that why you're wearing my jacket?" he asks, in a deep voice, as his eyes scan your figure. It’s clear he notices the game you’re starting, and a spark of interest ignites in his gaze.

"I just wanted your attention," you respond with a mischievous smile, enjoying the closeness and the way Silco watches you, as if evaluating every move.

Silco raises an eyebrow, not losing his composure. "And what makes you think wearing my clothes will get it?" His tone is challenging, but something else shines in his eyes. There’s a mix of curiosity and, perhaps, a bit of amusement, something he rarely shows.

"Maybe because it looks much better on me than on you," you reply with a light laugh, feeling how the tension in the air shifts slightly, but without losing the essence of the power you both share.

"It suits you," Silco says, without taking his eyes off you. "You are… an interesting interruption."

He leans in a little closer, his presence always so imposing. "But, you know? What you're wearing isn’t just clothing," he adds, with that deep voice that always makes you feel as if you're being drawn into him. "It's a reminder. Of who you are, and who you belong to."

The air becomes tense, not because of the threat in his tone, but because of the intention perceived in his words. Silco, in his own way, is marking territory. It’s not something obvious or rude, but a subtle gesture that speaks of his way of claiming, of having control over what is his, over you.

You move closer to him, and the distance between the two of you shortens until you can feel his breath nearer. "Who do you belong to, Silco?" you ask softly, almost as a challenge, maintaining a firm, confident gaze.

Silco doesn’t respond immediately, but his eyes soften, and he looks you up and down with a mix of admiration and possessiveness. A side of him that he rarely shows.

"That’s something only you and I will know," he replies, and immediately takes a step toward you, positioning himself so close that the tension feels like a weight in the air. You can’t escape his presence, but you don’t want to either.

Finally, when the space between you is almost nonexistent, Silco places a hand on your shoulder, touching the fabric of the jacket delicately, as if this piece of clothing represents something more than just a garment.

"Take off the jacket," he orders in a whisper, with that deep voice that knows how to make every word feel significant.

Without waiting for you to do it immediately, he takes it with one hand and slides it off your shoulders gently, as if he wants to hold onto that moment a bit longer. When the jacket falls to the floor, Silco looks at it for a second, and then his eyes lock onto yours again.

"No need for more clothing between us, is there?" he murmurs, a challenging tone in his voice. "But if you insist on wearing something of mine, make sure it's what I want."

Mel

The atmosphere in Mel’s mansion is filled with sophistication and soft lights illuminating the walls adorned with high-class art. The event in Piltover, which both of you are about to attend, is one of the most anticipated of the year, and Mel, as always, is ready to stand out. Her presence is undeniable, but tonight, something feels different. The air between you is charged with an energy that rarely occurs between two such powerful individuals, but today, there is a closeness evident from the very first moment.

After hours of preparation, Mel is ready, but she notices that you still haven’t found the right dress. “Don’t worry about that,” she says with a confident smile, her tone soft yet firm. “I have something that will make you shine more than anyone else at that event.”

With an elegant gesture, Mel approaches the wardrobe where she keeps her most exclusive garments and shows you a dress that immediately takes your breath away. It’s a long black silk dress with golden details that seem to catch the light with every movement. The neckline is subtle but enough to suggest powerful elegance. The fabric falls gracefully, highlighting the figure without being vulgar, and at the back, there is a slit that reveals your legs in a sophisticated way.

Mel holds it up in front of you, and her eyes gleam with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. “This is perfect for you,” she says with confidence, knowing her choice is flawless. “I want you to feel as impressive as you truly are.”

It takes you a moment to process the idea of wearing such a stunning dress, but you can’t help but smile. You feel a hint of excitement and perhaps something more in the air.

The moment you put on the dress, something changes. Mel watches as the fabric fits your body, her gaze attentive and assessing, but also filled with something more, as if she’s seeing beyond just appearance. The dress fits perfectly, as if it had been made especially for you, and Mel can’t help but smile, proud of having made the right choice.

When you finally see yourself in the mirror, you realize what she’s seeing. You become aware that, somehow, you’ve transformed into someone else. The dress highlights your strength and elegance, but it also gives you a vulnerability you’ve never felt before.

“Perfect,” Mel says, her voice soft, but her gaze full of approval. “I knew you’d be dazzling.”

She then steps closer and places a hand on your shoulder, slightly adjusting the fabric as if ensuring everything is in place is an important task for her. When she steps back to observe you again, her eyes show a warm glow, as if she’s proud of you in a very personal way.

“Now,” she says, her tone more playful, “let’s make everyone in Piltover wonder who this woman with so much power and beauty is.”

You smile, taking her hand with renewed confidence. The tension in the air feels electric, but this time it’s different. It’s not just about attending an important event but about the closeness of how you both feel at this moment.

When you’re finally ready to leave the mansion, Mel looks at you with a small smile, but full of admiration. “Let’s conquer this event together,” she says with the confidence that always accompanies her, and you know that with her by your side, there’s nothing you can’t achieve.

Sevika

It’s a calm afternoon in Zaun, but you know you can’t relax too much. Sevika has just returned from a mission, her body covered in oil stains and dust, but it seems like just another layer over her tough, hardened skin. Although it’s unusual for her to show vulnerability, today, for some reason, she seems more human, more approachable.

She enters the room with a firm step, but something seems to have left her tired. She’s looking at you without saying anything, though you know that silence rarely means there’s nothing more beneath the surface with Sevika.

You decide to take advantage of being in her space, knowing there’s no work to be done tonight. As you approach her, a strange calm takes over you. Without much thought, you head toward her wardrobe, opening the doors in hopes of finding something comfortable to wear. You know she’s not one to be easily unsettled by your jokes or your presence in her space.

In a moment of her inattention, you find a large leather jacket, rugged in design, clearly meant for someone more imposing than you. “I think this will fit me,” you murmur to yourself as you put it on without much thought.

When Sevika sees you, her eyes trail over your figure with a gaze full of attention. She doesn’t say anything immediately, but silence fills the air. However, her posture changes, and Sevika’s typical confidence unfolds with force. She crosses her arms and watches you, as if evaluating a new threat.

“Did you take my jacket?” she finally asks, her voice firm but with a small spark of amusement.

“What? Don’t you like how it looks on me?” you tease, challenging her to say something.

Sevika approaches you, unhurried but imposing. Her eyes never stop observing you, almost with curiosity. When she’s close, she extends a hand and, with a finger, touches the part of the jacket on your shoulder, examining it closely.

“Not bad,” she responds in a deep tone, but her gaze reflects something more.

You feel a bit provocative sensing her tone, deciding to play a bit more. “Do you like seeing me in something of yours?” you ask, smiling as you step closer to her.

The tension between the two of you rises. Sevika isn’t one to lose control, but you know that sometimes you like to challenge her. The brush of her finger on the jacket, her eyes fixed on you, and that way she has of dominating the situation make you feel the heat building in the air.

“Maybe you like being in my territory,” Sevika replies, her voice softer than you expected but still loaded with authority. The way she moves closer makes it feel like she’s already marking her space but leaves room for the game.

Suddenly, as if it had all been planned, Sevika steps toward you, her face close to yours, her lips almost touching your ear as she whispers, “Just make sure that jacket isn’t the only thing you take from me.”

Her tone is low, full of unspoken promises. The brush of her body against yours is inevitable, and at that moment, everything you’ve been waiting for seems to collapse in the air. Sevika isn’t the typical woman who gives herself easily, but she does enjoy playing with limits.

You stand there, wearing Sevika’s jacket on your shoulders, feeling her evaluating you, challenging you, and provoking you all at the same time.

You know Sevika isn’t someone who likes losing control, but you have a special place in her life, a place where trust mixes with that spark of madness that makes everything much more interesting.

“And what else would you like me to take from you?” you ask, keeping the challenge in your words, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

She stares at you intently, and the intensity of her gaze lets you know that, even though her attitude is one of control, she’s well aware of what’s happening between the two of you. The tension is at its peak, but Sevika simply smiles, that confident smile only she knows how to give.

“That, you’ll find out soon,” she replies in a softer tone than you imagined.

[bitchface24-7]

FORGIVE ME FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring and you were so scared you were going to lose it.

You were the perfect daughter. Until your church introduced two young, handsome priests. Father Viktor and Father Jayce.

warnings: religion (I'm roman catholic pls leave me alone with my dirty fantasies) power imbalance, age difference (reader is 19, J + V are early 30s), corruption kink, innocence kink (girly they go feral when they see the purity ring necklace), loss of virginity, voice kink, hand kink, inappropriate thoughts, mentions of masturbation, confessional, dirty talk, pussyjob, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, risky sex, squirting, semi-public sex (you're at the church but it’s not busy.) two smut scenes (VxR and JxR, the end suggests a threesome), J + V got big dicks, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f (m/m/f suggested at the end)

p.s. I know I don't want to seem like a horny degenerate but this was too good to pass up! If anyone wants fluff, angst, etc. shoot me a request and I'll write it as soon as I can!

You've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain around your neck every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring; you were terrified you were going to lose it.

You wear modest clothes every day. A mixture of pants, long skirts (no shorter than just below the knee), button-ups, cardigans, sweaters, long-sleeve shirts, dresses, and the odd high-neck t-shirt. You have to have at least one option when the weather gets hot.

Luckily for you, you weren't picked on in school. But at the same time, you didn't have many friends. People liked you because you’re kind and helpful, but they didn't want to become friends because of how modest and prude you were. They were nervous you’d rat them out if they did something “immoral.”

Life went on as normal. The same old same old. You graduated top of your class two years ago, you just recently got a certificate to be a librarian in a little over a month of work, and you got a modest job at your local library due to glowing references, and the older ladies at the library love you. It's your home away from home.

And you still go to church every Sunday. This Sunday was different though. You knew from the service that was held two weeks ago that Father Paul was going to retire. He had gotten too old to do the necessary duties of a priest, and that he was going to find his replacement before he left.

And it looks like he did.

If you have anything to say about the two, young, handsome men standing behind the altar. Wearing the traditional black uniform and white collar.

You feel like your heart is in your throat as Father Paul introduces the two new priests to the congregation. The two men are… very handsome.

Father Paul gestures to one of the men. He's tall, with long hair, beautiful bone structure, and the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. He's holding a cane in one of his hands. Father Paul says his name is Father Viktor.

The elderly man then gestures on the other side of himself to the other man standing there. He's even taller than Father Viktor, bulkier too. His shoulders are broad, his hair is messy, and he has a beard. Father Paul introduces him as Father Jayce.

You subconsciously clench your thighs together as an unknown heat travels down your stomach and into your private bits.

Oh no, you can't help but think to yourself. This isn't going to end well.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Church on Sundays became very popular. Like… ridiculously popular. You saw people at church that you haven't seen since you graduated high school two years ago.

Father Viktor is leading the sermon. His voice was loud, clear, and captivating. His accent made every word sound like it was dripping honey. Before you know it, its time to take the holy communion and the blood of Christ. You rise up from kneeling on the pew and brush imaginary dust off your simple black skirt. You adjust your small black cardigan, and nervously look down at your white button up. Everytime you've ever worn white, you somehow dirty it and it always ruins your mood.

When it's your turn to reach the end of the pew, you curtsey and do the sign of the cross. Your skirt lightly touches the ground. As you follow in line to receive the body of Christ, you silently pray you don’t fall. Before you know it, it’s your turn; and you’re face to face with Father Viktor.

He holds up a small circular piece of bread and calmly states, “The Body of Christ.” You kneel and say, “Amen.” After that, you open your mouth and lightly stick your tongue out. Father Viktor’s hand goes under your chin as he raises your head, and he lightly places the Eucharist onto your tongue. You close your mouth and Father Viktor’s eyes darken as he swallows lightly.

You stand up and after a few steps, you stand in front of Father Jayce for the blood of Christ. The two priests share a look and it’s almost as if they sighed in relief. Only adults can obtain the blood of Christ.

Father Jayce holds up an ornate chalice, “The Blood of Christ.” You smile and repeat, “Amen.” Father Jayce then brings the chalice to your lips and you take a small swig of the wine. You then walk away doing the sign of the cross as you return to your pew.

Your undies are wet and you don’t know why.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been weeks and you feel like you’re going insane. Every moment of every day, Father Viktor and Father Jayce are on your mind. They even plague your dreams.

Your undies get wet, your breathing gets heavy, and your body heats up. You’ve started touching yourself to the thought of them.

It feels so good.

It feels so wrong.

You need to speak to someone about this, but how can you? Your parents will have a meltdown, and you don’t have any friends. You sit in your room stumped before an idea comes to mind. Confessional.

You quickly get dressed into a neutral plaid skirt that just brushes your knees with black pantyhose, a plain black top, and your black loafers. You make sure your purity ring necklace is centred and protected under your shirt before exiting your house. You get into your car and drive to the church.

It’s not too late, just past dinner time. No one will be at the church, except for you and one of the Fathers.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars for the church workers. You park and exit the car, quickly making your way inside.

You appreciate the beauty of the church before finding an empty confessional and ringing a small bell, letting the priests know that someone was waiting for them.

After a few minutes of silence, the other end of the confessional opens up and a priest steps in. It’s hard to tell which priest it is. The lighting is too dark to see.

“Peace be with you.” The priest states. Damn. You can’t even tell which one it is due to their voice, the confessional muffles it too much.

You lightly sigh, “And also with your spirit. It’s been a month since my last confession, Father.”

“And what do you need to confess for?”

Your lips press together as you try to find a way to say this without sounding bad. You can’t. So you decide to be blunt.

“I’ve had lust in my heart, Father. For two men I cannot have. They’re constantly on my mind throughout the day, and plague my dreams when I sleep. I—“

You hesitate to say the next part. You can feel your face heat up as you stutter the next sin, “I touch myself… to— to the thought of them, Father.”

The other side of the confessional is quiet and you feel like crying. Eventually, the priest responds with, “And who are these two men? Are they someone you shall not covet? Such as someone who is married? Someone you’re related to?”

You gulp.

“Someone who is devoted to only one, and that one is God.”

The confessional becomes quiet at that. Before you know it, the door to your side of the confessional is opened. You gasp at the sight of a disheveled Father Viktor. His hair is messy, falling out of the small bun at the back of his head. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge. There’s a small snarl on his face.

“Is this some kind of joke? Do you wish to tempt me to defile you?”

Your eyes widen, “No Father! I speak the truth. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry for my thoughts and desires!”

Father Viktor enters your side of the confessional booth and closes the door behind him. The booth is just big enough to do small adjustments in; but you’re chest to chest with the beautiful priest.

“Say no, and we can pretend this never happened. You can go home and nothing will have changed.”

You nervously bite your lower lip and Father Viktor growls at that, “And… if I say yes?”

Father Viktor crowds you, until you have no room to move and whispers in your ear, “Then you shall become mine.”

A whimper escapes your lips and that’s all the answer Father Viktor needs. He turns your head and kisses you, it’s passionate, it’s frenzied. It’s a little messy.

It’s perfect.

You pant against his mouth as he touches your skirt, “May I?” You nod vigorously and he hikes the skirt up to your waist, ordering you to hold it there with one hand. You can’t help but comply.

Viktor groans when he sees you’re wearing pantyhose. He grabs the seem at your crotch and rips it, causing a gasp to escape your throat. Your undies get even more wet. A diligent finger taps lightly on the soaked fabric, so soaked you might as well not even be wearing it. The thin, white cotton has gone damn near translucent due to your arousal.

The gusset of your undies is pushed to the side as the handsome priest touches you in places you’ve only started to recently touch yourself.

He rubs your clit until it’s pulsing needily. He drags a finger down and teases your entrance, Father Viktor brings his face close to yours; so that as he speaks his lips brush against your own.

“Can I—”

Before he can even finish his sentence, you whine out a small yes.

Father Viktor chuckles and puts his middle finger into your pussy. It's so much longer and thicker than your own. It's reaching places you didn't even know existed.

“You need to learn patience, darling. What if I wanted to shove my cock into you instead, hmm? I'm not sure you can even handle two of my fingers.”

A whiny moan is what he gets in return to his scolding, “I can take two fingers. You heard me in confessional, I've been touching myself constantly now.”

Father Viktor growls at that and starts to finger your pussy faster, a schlick sound is heard throughout the confessional. Eventually, he adds a second finger and rubs your clit with his thumb. You’re gonna cum. You're gonna cum on the hand and fingers of one of the most handsome men you've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Every time you go to church and obtain the body of Christ you'll remember how fucking good those fingers felt inside you.

At your dirty thoughts, you cum. Trying to muffle your squeal into the palm of your hand not holding up your skirt. Father Viktor fingers you through your orgasm, and licks his fingers clean when he's done.

You feel a large bulge on your hip, “Do you want any help with that?”

Father Viktor chuckles, “You can't handle too much more, but there is one thing you can do.” he calmly states as he undoes his belt and lightly pulls down his pants and boxers; showing off an impressive dick.

Ok, no wonder he said you can't do much. His dick is massive and you're in a cramped confessional. Not much wiggle room.

Father Viktor slaps his cock against your clit and you gasp, “I'll just rut into your pussy until I cum. Is that okay with you?”

You bite your lip trying and failing to hide your smile, “Mmhm.”

He smiles and slowly starts to rock his dick into your folds. The head of his cock brushes against your clit in such a delicious manner, you won’t be surprised if you cum again.

“Hmm, what’s this?” Father Viktor asks as he notices the chain hidden beneath your shirt. The hand he used to finger you comes up and softly takes hold of the chain, pulling it out of your top to lay outside for once.

His eyes widen and his hips stutter once he realizes what he's looking at, “Is that a purity ring?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Yes?” your tone questioning as it raises in pitch.

The older man groans in an almost feral way before resuming his rutting, going much faster and harder than he was before, “You’re a filthy fucking virgin. Letting a man over a decade older than you rut into your pussy like a common whore.”

You're feeling too much of everything right now. Everything comes to a standstill when the tip of Father Viktors cock catches on the entrance of your pussy. Father Viktor brings a hand down to rub vigorously at your clit and you yelp as you cum for a second time. This time a little dribble of arousal escapes you.

Father Viktor groans as he cums inside you, it’s so warm, and there's so much of it.

You both pant and Father Viktor gives you a final kiss before you both have to clean up to go, this one is much sweeter.

You readjust your underwear and cringe at the cold, wet sensation, you drop your skirt and you ironically thank god that your skirt is long enough that no one else can see the damaged pantyhose.

Viktor redoes his belt and fixes his hair. He exits the confessional and offers out a hand to you, you take it gladly.

You notice his cane is leaning against the outside of the confessional and gasp in worry, “Father, are you okay? I forgot you used a cane. Are you in any pain?”

Father Viktor just smiles at you, “The confessional booth was small enough that I didn't have to worry about moving too much or falling. But thank you for the concern. Also, after what we just did, you can call me Viktor.”

Father— Viktor’s smile turns into a smirk, “Drive safe darling. This Sundays mass shall be quite interesting, don’t you think?”

You giggle as you make your way to the door.

Your footsteps stop when you hear Viktor call out your name, “Shall I tell Father Jayce your confession, or will you do it yourself?”

You coyly look back over your shoulder as you open the churches doors, “You can tell him. I'm curious to see what his reaction will be.”

The last thing you hear before the church doors close is Viktor’s chuckles.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next Sunday mass you go to, you feel as if you have eyes on you the entire few hours you’re there. Every time you look up from your prayer, your singing, your kneeling on the pew, you see Viktor and Father Jayce looking at you.

They’re being subtle. They have to be. If they get caught staring lecherously at a young woman who's over a decade their junior, they'll be the town paraiah.

Everything goes smoothly until the end of mass. When everyone is leaving, Father Jayce lightly calls your name. “Are you able to stay behind? Father Viktor has had a flare-up of pain and I require a second set of hands to clean up the altar and the pews.”

You lightly chew on the inside of your cheek and shuffle on your feet. You think on it for a few seconds before shyly nodding your head. Father Jayce smiles, he has dimples; and his crows feet deepen the slightest bit. He has a small gap between his two front teeth.

Not only is Father Jayce handsome, he's... Cute.

The two of you break apart, going pew to pew, row to row, cleaning up as you go.

You raise the kneelers, place the bibles back on their shelf, pick up little pieces of garbage and bring them to the garbage bin near the front doors of the church.

“Are you done? I need some assistance cleaning up the altar.”

You turn around and hum, slowly walking to the back of the church, going up the few steps to the altar where Father Jayce is waiting for you.

The altar honestly isn't too messy. You just need put away the candles, the candle holders, the wine, the bread, and the lectionary. The massive book the priest reads from during mass.

Before you know it, the altar is cleaned, except for the wine.

“How did you think of mass today?” Father Jayce asks, as he fondles his rosary. You lightly gulp, “It was good. I enjoyed it.”

Father Jayce hums, “I’m glad. You're a very… good person.”

You feel your brows furrow in subconscious confusion, “Thank… you?”

The handsome man purses his lips as he saunters towards you, wrapping his hand around the wine pitcher and dragging it alongside him on top of the altar, “But you're not purely good, are you? No. You sin. Your perfected image is so ingrained into this towns mind that they can't imagine you in any other way.”

Your breath hitches as you lean back onto the altar, trying to put some distance between you two. Father Jayce crowds you against the altar, he's much bigger than you. It’s startling.

It’s arousing.

“You know, Father Viktor told me all about the the little rendezvous you two had. I thought he was joking, maybe he had a dirty dream. Because there’s no way such an innocent, good girl did that within the church. Within a confessional.”

You bite your lip and look down, Father Jayce tilts your head back up with a single finger under your chin. He brings the wine pitcher up to his mouth and takes a large swig.

“But I know he was telling the truth.”

“How?”

“The way you look at us is how the Devil tries to tempt the innocent, and Father Viktor and I are not.”

You gasp when Father Jayce brings the pitcher to your mouth and taps your bottom lip a few times. The glass is cold, and the wine is sweet.

But it’s not as sweet as the way Father Jayce’s eyes darken as you take a gulp of wine.

The pitcher is slammed onto the altar and Father Jayce gives you a passionate kiss. You sigh and lightly open your mouth, and Father Jayce’s tongue caresses your own.

Your arms wrap around him, your hands carding into the hair at the base of his neck. He growls and grips your waist, hiking you up onto the altar.

A gasp escapes your lips, he's so strong. Father Jayce parts your legs at your knees, your dress riding up to an almost obscene level.

His hands drag up your thighs to your hips under your dress, his fingers curling into the sides of your underwear.

“May I?”

“Yes. Please.”

With that, Father Jayce pulls down your underwear, unhooking it from your feet and putting them into his black slacks. He drops down to his knees and you grab his hair in shock.

No way. He's not going to— is he…?

Yes he is, he brings his face close to your core and licks from your entrance to your clit. You jolt, gripping his hair harder as you moan out in pleasure.

He groans and the vibrations make you want to cry. He starts to focus all his attention onto your clit, as he slowly fingers you. The double combo is dangerous. Your pussy is drenched, your face is hot, and your back is curling. Your thighs clutch around Father Jayce’s head and he goes even harder.

Your vision whites out and you cum. Hard. Father Jayce kitten licks you through your orgasm and eventually you shove his head lightly away due to the oversensitivity.

Father Jayce stands up and kisses you, his lips and beard are lightly damp. You feel embarrassed and aroused at that knowledge.

“Take it off.” Father Jayce orders, gesturing to your sage green dress. You gulp, and slowly raise the hem over your head. Your flats have fallen off your feet during your pussy getting ate.

Now you're sitting on the church's altar, only in your basic white cotton bra. Father Jayce is still fully clothed. “All of it.” he demands.

You bring your hands behind you to your back and unhook your bra, your breasts now free for Father Jayce to appreciate.

He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his slacks and lowers it just enough to free his cock. His cock is also massive.

Jesus Christ, your priests are hung.

Father Jayce lines up his cock to your entrance and slowly pushes in, you moan, your voice cracking at the immense feeling of pleasure. He’s stretching you so much, you’re so full. There’s a minuscule pinch but Father Jayce prepped you so well, there’s barely any pain.

Your parents made it sound like you’d die.

Father Jayce groans deep in his chest when he sees a few speckles of blood on his cock, your arousal making his entire dick shimmer in the lowlight of the church.

“Such a dirty girl. Getting fucked in public by a man who’s over a decade older than her, and giving her virginity to him. You’re a goddamn gem.”

You moan at his words, god you’re fucking soaked. His cock keeps hitting your g-spot, and you can’t help but lay back against the altar. Your tits jiggle as Father Jayce fucks you. He slowly starts to go harder and harder. Fucking you to the point where your skin slaps together.

The altar is shaking, you're moaning, and then Father Jayce grips your hair and turns you over. You plop your hands onto the altar as Father Jayce pulls your head back.

If someone were to enter the church now, they'd see Father Jayce fucking the shit out of a woman as her tits bounce and she moans out in pure pleasure.

Your purity ring necklace bounces with each thrust.

“Fuck. Father! You feel so— so fucking good!”

He chuckles, “I’m balls deep in you right now, sweetheart. You can call me Jayce.”

“Jayce! Fuck!”

Without you noticing, Jayce unhooks your purity ring necklace and it bounces down on to the altar, the metal making a small tinkling sound.

“W— what?”

“You don't need that anymore, sweetheart. You’re mine now, and Viktors.”

With that declaration, you shove your hand in between your thighs and viciously rub your clit. One circle, two, and then you're cumming again, and this time a gush of arousal escapes your pussy.

Jayce moans and pounds into you, before going as deep as he can as he cums inside you. You can feel each pulse of his cock as he dumps his cum into you.

You sigh at the feeling, fuck it feels so good.

Jayce sighs and drops his head down onto your shoulder, he sucks a few hickeys into your neck as he pulls out. You feel some of his cum drip down your thighs.

You pant as Jayce fixes himself and then helps you get re-dressed. You two look somewhat presentable when a very familiar accented voice echoes out into the church.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No, V. You're right on time.”

“It was a good show.”

You freeze, “Wait… you could see us?”

Viktor nods, “The personal office has a perfect view.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“So,” Viktor continues, “Are we only ever able to see you within the house of god?”

Jayce chuckles as your face heats up, “No. I'm more than willing to see you two outside of the church.”

With that, Viktor smirks and hands you a small slip of paper with an address written on it, “This is where we live. Hopefully, the next time we see one another, it's within the privacy of our home. That way we can see how loud you can truly get.”

You smile at the two handsome men. They've truly ruined you for anyone else.

Hallelujah praise the lord! This was filthy and I hope y’all enjoy it! Priest Viktor and Jayce would be so hot, I’d start going to church if they were there LMAO

I started writing this when I was certain JayVik x Reader was going to win on my poll (I know cause I voted for other to see which the percentages, I was too impatient to wait 23hrs 💀)

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[cornyonmains]

Correcting a Chinese kid's English homework that another American got wrong on a Chinese app named after Mao Zedong's Little Red Book as part of a mass online temper tantrum to help save TikTok was not on my 2025 bingo card, but here we are.

This might actually be the political fuck-up of the century. Our politicians are all 900 year old crypt keepers who probably turn off their computers by unplugging them from the wall. Were there a single synapse in their decrepit domes focused on something besides their next payday, they might have thought twice about challenging Millennials and Zoomers on the internet. I repeat, ON THE INTERNET. Oh to have the confidence of an octogenarian born into generational wealth.

Something I need people to understand is the "security threat" doesn't just stop at data. The mere act of normal Chinese and American citizens interacting scares the shit out of governments on both sides. I'm already seeing videos from folks here in the US talking about how shocked they were at the grocery hauls in China, and how much they could get with very little. Chinese people are watching Americans absolutely dog walk their own government and talk it for filth. People are having fun.

All rich people had to do was remember the deal. Americans are terrible people. If they had just paid folks enough to buy a house, an electric car, and a vacation once a year they'd sit in front of the TV in a docile fugue state while the wealthy shoved their boots up the ass of the global south. Now who knows what's going to happen. I just know it's a testament to how done with Mark Zuckerberg's ass people are that they're rather learn Mandarin than go back to Facebook.

I think 2025 is about to be a ride.

[straylightdream]

across the room

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x f!chubby reader

I caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There's no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do 'em too. We both know we'd be over if they knew

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, secret lovers, romance, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of body insecurities, cussing, mentions of drinking, angst, having to keep a “relationship” a secret, so much making out, open ending, wonwoo is kinda a former fuckboy.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dry humping, oral (both rec), handjob, fingering, protected intercourse, multiple positions, couch sex, cum eating, snowballing?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: wrote this a while ago and decided it was time to fully rework it.

🎧: hush hush - the band camino | talk fast - 5 seconds of summer

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

His hands held your face as your lips moved together. His lips were completely intoxicating as they moved against yours. There was something about this touch that just drove you absolutely wild. You’re sitting next to each other on your couch. Your fingers gripped his shirt holding him closer to you. He pulls his lips ways from yours and smirk plays across his lips. He well aware of how much he’s turning you on.

“What’s your endgame here?” You ask with your voice low.

“My goal is to have you naked on this couch,” he says completely serious.

“Is that right?” you ask raising your eyebrow.

You and Wonwoo had started this flirty thing a month ago. You’re complete opposites he’s a drop dead gorgeous man with the body of a Greek god you’re a chubby girl who hasn’t ever fooled around outside a relationship.

You felt like this is a game of cat and mouse and once he gets what he wants he’ll be done. This wasn’t the first time you had shared a steamy make out session. Normally things between you got a little handsy but nothing more.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss and pulled away resting his nose against yours.

“I think we’re wearing too much clothing,” his lips brushed against yours.

You were so turned on you were trying to think logically and not tear off your clothes and jump him.

“I think you need to behave,” you reached up resting your hand on his cheek.

“Baby you’re killing me,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“I think you’ll live,” you smile as you rest your hand on his thigh.

“You’re giving me blue balls babe,” he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“I think we can have fun without taking our clothes off,” You say as your hand moves to his jean covered bulge.

A groan passed his lips you massaged him. Leaning forward he placed his hands on your soft sides and pulled you onto his lap.

You hadn’t ever sat on his lap before and you felt extremely self conscious about your weight. Your hips starting grinding against his. His lips were connected to your neck gently nipping at your skin. He pulls his lips away from your skin and holds your doughy sides helping move your hips. Your hands held his face so he was looking at you. Pulling off his glasses they set them on the table next to the couch. His dark eyes lust blown as he stared at you. His lips pressed to yours and as he pulled away he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Even if we don’t have sex can we shed some clothes?” his voice is low.

“Sure,” you say with every intention of keeping your clothes on but making sure he feels good.

Crawling off his lap you sit on your knees on the floor between his legs and look up at him with big doe eyes. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he stares down at you.

“What do you want to happen from here?” he putting the ball in your court.

“Take your pants off,” you say, attempting to sound sexy.

He stands up in front of you and quickly pushes down his jeans and boxers. His already hard cock springs free, he’s bigger than you imagined. You had seen Wonwoo shirtless, but you hadn’t ever seen him fully naked.

His pants are pushed down to his thighs and he is sitting there watching you in anticipation. He silently removed his shirt so he’s basically naked.

Sitting up you’re still sitting on your knees. Your hands rest on his thighs. You were going to be brave right now. Wonwoo’s one of the hottest men you have ever seen and he wanted you. Right then you wanted to make him feel good. Reaching forward you stroked his hardened length. A groan passed his lips as he closed his eyes.

Leaning forward you licked the underside of his excitement. His eyes popped open as he watched you take him into your mouth.

You take him as far back as you fully can until he’s touching the back of your throat.“Baby that feels so good,” he pushed his fingers through hair. Gently you bobbed your head as your hand helped work his length.

A slur of curse words passed his lips letting you know he was getting closer and closer to coming. You hadn’t given someone head in a really long time and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at it, but by the way he was saying your name he seemed like he was really enjoying it.

“Fuck-fu-“ you’re getting wet just by the sounds of his moans. “I’m coming-“ You have zero desire to pull off. You want him to fall apart in your mouth. You feel the warm liquid from his release in your mouth and swallow without even thinking about it.

He tugs your hair gently pulling you away. Looking up at him you run your tongue across your bottom lip.

He pulls you onto his lap and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He doesn’t even care that he can taste himself on your lips.

“That was so hot,” he groans with his lips ghosting against yours.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” you say, feeling proud of yourself.

“You made me feel amazing,” he smiles as his hands move up your sides resting under your breast.

“Let me make you feel good,” he says, pulling your shirt up.

“It’s okay, how about next time?” you say as you push your shirt down.

His eyes brows knit together as he looks at you with a confused look. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head and say, “I want to have sex with you, but I want to take this slow.”

You were taking things slow because you were afraid that he was going to run once he got what he wanted. You also had a fear that once he saw you naked he wouldn’t want to be with you. He was known for liking pretty skinny girls.

“Okay we can take it slow, but can I at least touch these,” he asked as his eyes were locked in your large breast.

Silently you nod. Reaching forward, his hands hold your breast. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he looks at you with a lust fueled look. As his hands grope your chest you fight back moaning. You want more desperately but you’re too afraid. His hand moves to the edge of your shirt and your eyes pop open quickly. You’re terrified of him seeing you without your shirt. You watch as his hand crawls under your shirt. His hand rested on your breast under your shirt and his touch felt electric. Hungry eyes stay locked on yours as his hands massages your breast. His lips connected to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

The sound of your phone ringing caught both your attention. Wonwoo looked up at you with wide eyes for a moment.

You wanted to ignore the call, but Wonwoo reached over and grabbed your phone. It’s Seungcheol’s name on your phone.

“I can send it to voicemail,” you say, still caught up in the moment.

“Answer it, he’ll start asking questions if you don’t.”

-

This whole “thing” between you and Wonwoo was a secret. Nobody in your friend group is aware that you two have something going on. Before this all started Wonwoo had been extremely vocal about not wanting to hook up with anyone in the friend group. You weren’t even exactly sure how this all started. It still blows your mind that he’s interested in you. You’re far from his normal type, and the moment you met him you couldn’t lie you had a crush on him. In the beginning it started with longing looks on your part. You couldn’t help but stare. He's just so pretty. It wasn’t long before he started staring back at you. You were completely caught off guard the first time he walked over and talked to you. Shortly after the longing looks he started touching you. They were innocent touches, like he would touch your arm while he spoke to you. When he started resting his hand on your thigh that’s when things started heating up.

You were at a party at Seungcheol’s house when things started to really change between you. It had been a couple weeks of him touching you, and you were standing in the kitchen talking while everyone was drinking throughout the house. You’re leaning against the counter and Wonwoo is standing right in front of you. You’re telling him some random story about when you had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung. He seems like he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. His pretty eyes seem to be locked on your lips.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you ask.

He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh. His little laugh always gave you butterflies.

“Should I leave you alone then?” you are curious as to why he isn’t paying attention to what you have to say.

Reaching up he pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but smile at this simple gesture. He leans forward and his lips brush against your ear, “I can’t pay attention to you because I really want to kiss you.”

Your heart races at his words as you pull away from him and look up at him unsure if he’s being serious. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a smile. He is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t seem to think about anything other than what your pretty lips will feel like against mine,” he reaches out and touches your arms and you immediately get goose bumps.

“Then are you going to kiss me?”

He bites his bottom lip and pulls away from you. He takes his hat off and pushes his fingers through his hair. He seems oddly nervous which is extremely unlike him.

“I would like for that to be something private with us alone.”

You look around the house and see that it’s filled with all your friends, and you really didn’t want them in your business when it came to your “relationship/friendship” with Wonwoo.

“Well you can always meet me at my place later,” you say trying to be confident.

He smiled and nodded his head, “I’ll leave in ten minutes and then you leave in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at your place.”

From your first kiss you knew you were in trouble when it came to Wonwoo.

-

You answer your phone and Seungcheol is asking if you can come over for a party he’s having. He mentions that Soonyoung and Mingyu are on their way and he’s gonna call Wonwoo next. You tell him you’ll be there in twenty. Hanging up your phone you slowly crawl off of Wonwoo, who is still basically naked on the couch.

He gives you a strange look as you reach on the coffee table and grab his phone that has just started ringing.

“He wants to hang, we probably shouldn’t show up together,” you trying to act like it doesn’t bug you that this whole thing is a secret.

Wonwoo takes the call and agrees to head over. He hangs up his phone and pulls his boxers and pants up and finishes getting dressed. You head off to your room to find something to wear. You were in nothing but a pair of leggings and a big shirt. Wonwoo stands in your doorway watching you as you pull out a sweater to wear.

“Did you want to head over together?” he asked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you ask knowing that the group will wonder why you drove over together.

“Probably not,” he says walking towards you.

“You should probably head over and I’ll meet you there,” you say as he stops in front of you. He looks down at and holds your face for a long moment before he leans down and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away from you he smiles and says, “thank you for earlier. I need to return the favor.”

You stare at him unsure of what to say. Your body is screaming at you to tell him he can return the favor whenever, but your mind is too self conscious to say that.

“I’ll see you at Seungcheol’s,” you say, changing the subject.

“See you there,” he says before walking out of the apartment.

You hear your front door shut and you sit down on your bed and let out a heavy sigh before rubbing your face. You kept telling yourself that you needed to be confident when it comes to Wonwoo, that he clearly wants you, but you can’t help the walls that you have built up. You’ve had a few shitty ex boyfriends that have drained any self confidence you had.

Ten minutes after Wonwoo left your place you drove over to Seungcheol’s place. You’re greeted by Soonyoung and Mingyu hugging you, and Wonwoo gives you a simple hello as if he wasn’t naked on your couch not even a half hour ago. A bunch of the other boys have showed up. Vernon just arrived with his girlfriend and her roommate. In the living room everyone is sitting around drinking beer and hanging out. Standing in the kitchen with Soonyoung you can feel Wonwoo’s dark eyes on you. The tension between you is thick and you can’t help but wonder if the group has any clue if anything is going on.

Walking back into the living room you sit across from him.

You’re sitting on the couch when you feel your phone vibrate. Opening your phone you can’t help but smile as you read the text Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: I would much rather have you naked right now.

Your cheeks burn as you read his text. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, well aware of what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Seungcheol says to catch your attention.

The rest of the evening you continue to hang out with the group. Wonwoo leaves long before you, he has dinner plans with some friends. The moment he leaves you feel all the sexual tension in your body is relieved.

You head home when the little party starts to die down. You head to your place and lay down in bed and scroll through your phone. You smile as you see you have a text from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: are you going to Soonyoung’s place tomorrow for the party?

From you: Yes I’ll be there.

It takes less than a minute before you receive another text from him that reads,

From Wonwoo: okay good. I think you should wear that pretty pink dress.

You know the exact dress he’s talking about. You wore it the night you shared your first kiss.

From you: Why should I wear that?

Another text quickly comes in that reads,

From Wonwoo: Because I’ll reward you with something that makes you feel good.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you read his text. You know exactly what he means and you have every single intention of wearing that dress. As you lay in bed you can’t wait to see Wonwoo tomorrow at the party. You know this is probably just a game of cat and mouse, but you think you’re finally ready to let something more really happen.

-

Loud music played throughout the house. Standing in Soonyoung’s backyard you watch your friends and lots of strangers were drinking and having a good time. Yuna standing next to you holding her drink she’s telling you about some dance audition she had earlier. Looking across the yard you find Wonwoo talking to Chan. Your eyes lock and he smiles at you. His dark eyes stay locked on you as he’s listening to Chan.

Yuna Notices right away that you aren’t fully paying attention and looks at you with a curious look. She asks you, “So who has your attention?”

You try your hardest not to panic as you look at her.You need to lie you can’t let her know you’re staring at Wonwoo.

“I was looking at Chan, he's over there talking with his hands and I was wondering what he was saying,” you lie.

“Oh,” she says, not bothering to ask you any more questions.

She walks inside to find Vernon and you make your way through the crowded house heading over towards the kitchen. You reach into the fridge and grab a bottle of water. You weren’t the type of person who really ever drank at these parties other than maybe one beer. Your friends tended to get a little crazy and sometimes needed someone to take care of them. Your whole life you had always been dubbed the mom friend, and from the moment you met Seungcheol and all your friends that didn’t change. You watch as Wonwoo and Chan are walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey (Y/N),” Wonwoo smiles.

“Hey boys,” you say looking over at Chan who is holding a beer.

“Where’s your drink?” Chan asks, noticing that you’re holding a bottle of water.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, and someone is going to have to make sure Soonyoung gets put to bed safely,” you say with a little laugh.

“Let’s be real, someone needs to take care of all their drunk asses,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head.

“I thought you were sober and not drinking tonight?” Chan asks.

“I think all of you need more than one person to take care of you,” you let out a little laugh.

“True,” Chan said before taking a drink of his beer.

Chan heads over to Swungkwan leaving you alone with Wonwoo. It’s rare that you and Wonwoo ever get a moment alone at an event with your friends. That might be why people don’t actually think something is going on between you. Literally nobody even has the slightest idea something is happening.

You’re leaning against the counter as he’s watching you. The tension between you is thick and you wish you could kiss him, but you knew that wasn’t an option. You don't need everyone in the room to know what’s going on between you.

“I see you wore the pink dress,” he says as his eyes travel up and down your soft body.

Looking down at your feet you can’t help but blush,”I wore it just for you.”

He steps closer to you so there isn’t much distance between you. Looking around you look to see if anyone is paying attention.

“I think I said that I would reward you for wearing this,” He leans closer as he whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is that promise?” you look into his dark eyes that already look lust blown.

He nods and steps away from you. A shiver runs down your spine as he smirks at you.

“I look forward to that later,” you walk away from him. You feel his eyes on you as you walk off towards the bathroom. You need a moment alone, he managed to leave you feeling extremely flustered without even trying.

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and took a deep breath. The sound of someone knocking on the door catches your attention.

“One minute,” you say softly. Whatever drunk girl that needed to use the restroom could wait a minute.

“It’s Wonwoo, let me in,” you hear him say on the other side.

Reaching forward you unlock the door and step back. He steps inside and shuts the door and locks it. You know this is dangerous that someone could have seen him come into the bathroom with you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter as he walks towards you like a hunter stalking his prey. He grips your soft hips and helps you sit on the edge of the bathroom counter. He stands between your legs and his large hands rest on your soft thighs.

“I need to kiss you,” he says leaning forward so his lips brush against yours.

“Then kiss me,” you say feeling bold.

He leans into your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips move together and you thank god that he joined you in the bathroom. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Never in your life have you ever felt the sparks you felt when you kissed Wonwoo. Pulling his lips away from yours he gently tugged on your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft moan that passed your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans with his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get out how pretty he is.

“As soon as this party is over I’m going to make you feel good,” he says as he rubs your thigh under your dress. He leaves you wanting more as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours for another kiss before stepping away. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and you stay in there for a couple minutes hoping people wouldn’t notice you’re in there together.

Walking out of the bathroom you look around hoping nobody noticed you leaving shortly after Wonwoo.

The house is filled with too many people you didn’t know and loud music. You wander around alone contemplating how long you had to stay before acceptably being able to leave. You look off into the kitchen to find Wonwoo talking to Chan once again. As he watches you walk by you can feel his eyes burning into you. You find Yuna and Mia sitting on the couch and you walk over and sit next to them. They’re talking about Mia and Seokmin’s wedding and you know this is the perfect topic to keep your mind off of Wonwoo.

An hour passes when you notice Wonwoo is no longer at the party. He’s always been the type of person who leaves a party without telling anyone. You thought this situation might be a little different though.

At midnight you take this as your opportunity to say your goodbyes to the group. You drive home and you can’t help but feel a little nervous about seeing Wonwoo.

-

Laying in your bed you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re on edge waiting to hear from Wonwoo in some capacity.

At two in the morning you butterflies fill your stomach at a text from him.

From Wonwoo: Can you pick me up?

You know that he wants you to pick him but because if anyone drives by and sees his car at your apartment at two in the morning it will be obvious that something is going on.

From you: can be there in ten. Meet me outside.

You’re playing with fire and you’re well aware of that. Since this thing started between you and Wonwoo you hadn’t ever picked each other up in the middle of the night. You knew that this wasn’t just going to be you guys hanging out and making out. Wonwoo had promised to make you feel good, and you knew that consisted of you taking your clothes off.

The drive to Wonwoo’s apartment is short and you find him outside waiting for you. You pull up to the curb and he jumps in and leans over to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

As you start driving he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. His thumb gently brushes against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

The short drive to your place seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity as you pull into your parking spot.

Slowly getting out of your car you shut the door and take a deep breath. You watch as Wonwoo walks towards the front door. You’ve never been happier that you live alone.

Opening the door you walk inside. Looking over at the clock near the door it reads 2:45am. You know that this isn’t going to be an innocent make out session. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at you with lust filled eyes.

Taking a deep breath you tell yourself that you are ready for this. That you’re brave, that you’re a confident woman who loves her own body and is ready for this.

“Why do I feel like you’re overthinking this?” He steps towards you.

“Because I totally am overthinking everything right now,” you nervously smooth your dress down.

He reaches up and rests his hand on your arm and his dark eyes lock on yours, “what are you thinking about?”

Silently you stare at him for a long moment. You know you need to be honest with him. “What happens after tonight?”

He pushes his hand through his hair and stares back at you before he says, “what do you mean?”

“What happens after I finally have sex with you? Are we over because the thrill of the chase is over?” you hated that what you were asking was so brutally honest but you needed to know.

“Do you really think that little of me?” he says as if he is pretty hurt by your question.

“I’m trying to be realistic here. I know damn well I’m not your type,” your building up a wall in an attempt to save yourself.

He takes your face in both his hands and says, “this isn’t some game to me. I want you, because I really like you. This isn’t just about trying to have sex with you.” Butterflies flutter around your stomach as he leaves you at complete loss of words.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours while he’s still holding your face. Your lips move together for a heated kiss. The room feels like it’s spinning as you get wrapped up in his touch. His hands slowly move from holding your face to resting on your neck. Pulling your lips away from him you take a slow breath as you stare at him with lust blown eyes. He licks his lips as a smile plays on his face. He steps back and pulls his shirt off. The sight of him standing shirtless in front of you makes your mouth water.

“God how are you even real,” you groan as you reach out dragging your hands down his abs that seem to be cut from marble.

“I workout a lot,” he says ever so casually.

“I’m well aware,” you shake your head and look up at him.

“I see you’re still wearing the dress,” his hand moved up so they’re playing with the edge of your sleeve.

You nod silently.

“Can we take this off?”

You want to say no, but you need to be brave. He’s made this very clear that this isn’t some game to him.

“Yeah.”

He steps behind you and slides the zipper slowly down the back of your dress. You feel the cool air against your skin. You close your eyes as he reaches up and moves the dress of your shoulders. You stand in a pool of fabric and the cool air against your skin is a reminder of how bare you are.

The feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts. Instinctually you wrap your arms across your stomach. His lips move to the side of your neck kissing the right spot that he knows drives you wild. With his lips ghosting your skin he says, “you’re so pretty.”

Your eyes pop open when you feel his lips move away from your skin. He stands in front of you as his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You’re on full display, and you’re worried he isn’t going to like what he sees.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says as he works on unbuckling his belt.

You reach up and unclasp your bra, and work on taking it off as he takes off his pants, and his shoes.

You're both standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heart starts to race at what is going to come next. His lips are once again on your neck, but this time his hand hungry hands are roaming your curvy body. Biting your lips you hold back a moan as his lips move down to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches against him craving his touch.

“We need to get to my bed or the coach,” you moan.

He removes his lips from your skin and smiles. Reach down, he takes your hand and leads you over to the couch. You sit down on the scene of your earlier crime where you gave him head yesterday. You watch as Wonwoo quickly walks over to his jeans that are on the floor where you had just been standing. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and tosses it back into the puddle of clothing on the floor. He walks back over to the couch and sets the foil packets on the coffee table and looks over at you for a moment.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks. You silently nod. “Please tell me you want more,” he says.

“Wonwoo I want every single part of you.”

“Okay,” he says as he pushes his boxers down. He once again stands in front of you completely naked and you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get over the sight of him naked. You fully understand why all women and men that encounter him always talk about how hot he is.

You stand up taking this as your cue to lose your own underwear. Hooking your fingers into your panties you push them down your thick thighs.

“Sit down on the couch,” he says.

Silently you listen and sit down on the couch. He kneels in front of you and looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to no end. His hands rest on each of your knees and push them apart slowly. He reaches up and grabs your butt pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. He kisses his way up your inner thigh until his lips brush the top of your mound. Closing your eyes you fight back moaning as he licks your already wet slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he laps at your bundle of nerves. He adds one of his long fingers into the mix. It’s not long before he has you completely on the edge and moaning his name. Another finger is added as he sucks on your clit. This man is very good with his fingers and his mouth. Your eyes about roll back in your head as the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair you hold him close to your wet core. “Won-“ his name is a broken cry as you're so close to the edge you can taste it. “Please-“

Your orgasm feels like a white hot wave as you come against his mouth.

Coming down from your high you stare at him with lust filled eyes. He stands sporting a proud smile at his handy look.

“I promised you I would make you feel good.”

Reaching down he picks up the foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. Your breathing is still uneven as you watch him slide the rubber down his hardened length. Sitting his glasses down on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch next to you, and automatically connects his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he moves to pull you onto his lap. You’re hovering over his cock as your lips continue to move together. Pulling your lips away from his you bit your bottom lip as you rest your hand on his tone chest. His hand moves to your soft hips and stares into your eyes as he guides you down his straining cock. Closing your eyes you moan as he stretches you in the best way possible. He bottoms out leaving you sitting on his thighs. Silently you stare at him taking in the feeling of him stretching you. He feels as if he was made for you. Reach up, taking his face in your hands and say, “oh my god you feel amazing.”

“Baby you feel incredible,” he groans.

Slowly you start moving your body up and down his length. His hands stay resting on your sides helping to guide your movement.

Your lips crash together and you roll your hips into his. This felt just like you hoped it would. Your hand talon into his shoulders as you moan into his lips. With each movement he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He’s so big he’s stretching in the most delicious way.

His lips move down your next leaving a trail of gentle nips and wet kisses. All the oxygen feels like it’s being sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach is tightening. Your finger snakes down and rubs your sensitive clit. All the nerves in your body feel like they’re alive as you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

His dark eyes are locked on yours as he reaches up, taking your face in his hands. You close your eyes you roll your hip faster. Your knees are starting to burn but you don’t even care. You desperately want to come. “Look at me,” he groans. Opening your eyes. You stare at him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet each of your movements. He’s hitting just the right place as he lifts his hips thrusting into you.

When he pushes you over the edge you see stars. Your whole body burns and everything feels so warm. Throwing your head back you moan his name riding out your high. You roll your hips trying to help him find his own release. He catches you off guard when he moves both of you so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you. He pauses for a moment. Leaning down, crashing his lips into yours. Pulling away he slides into you again. He rolls his hips into you over and over as you high wash over you.

Reaching up you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him close to you. Your lips move together as his thrust grows sloppier. He groans your name as he finds his release.

He collapses on top of you and you can’t help but smile. He stays there for a long moment before he pulls himself of you. Slowly he walks off to the bathroom and discards the condom before walking back over and sitting on the couch next to you.

“Did you maybe want to lay in your bed together?” he asks, catching you off guard.

You nod your head and smile. You take his hand and lead him off to your room. Laying down in bed Wonwoo lays close to you and pulls your soft body close to his. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms. You aren’t sure what any of this means but you hope maybe one day you and Wonwoo can have something more than secret little moments together.

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[1d1195]

Independent Extra I

Read Independent here | ~3k words

From me: not sure how I feel about this, but I've missed them and it may have gotten some juices flowing to do more.

Warnings: a little bit of insecurity/angst but otherwise very fluffy (I hope it will make you want Harry even more if that is possible.)

“Jus’ thinking I might not be this sweet forever?” He smiled. She looked at her lap, her cheeks flaming bright red. “S’okay, Poppy. Y’don’t have a reason t’believe any man that they won’t,” he shrugged. “Jus’ promise you’ll let me prove y’wrong, yeah?”

Harry felt like he was on the defensive. It was unfortunate that he was feeling sick when she had confessed that she was in love with him too. After all that time he had waited to hear those words, he wished he was in a better headspace.

But when they returned to their apartment, she started to look at him, analyzing him while he opened the door. Barefoot. Because he was so worried about her, he couldn’t even put on his shoes. But she noticed his normally glowing and pretty complexion was a bit pale. His eyes seemed a little red and the pucker between his eyebrows made it look like he was in pain. “Are you sick?” She sniffled—remnants from the crying last night. Plus, she knew she was on her way to her own cold because her body was achy in a way that sleep didn’t fix. So, it was only reasonable that she had inadvertently gotten Harry sick as well. Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as if she knew he was going to lie.

He smiled weakly stepping into their place. “Ah... yeah. I think so. Jus’ a bit, though. Nothing t’worry ‘bout.”

“Oh, for the love of...” she sighed. “Go lay in bed,” she ordered.

“Honestly, Poppy, s’not so bad.”

She frowned. “You...” she swallowed. “You came to get me even though you weren’t feeling well?”

“T’be fair, kitten. You weren’t feeling well either,” he shrugged putting his keys on the little table inside the entryway.

Her heart felt heavy. She felt loved. Which was supposed to be perfect because Harry really felt different. But there was a flicker of doubt and a sense of the it won’t last forever in her head that she wanted to snuff out.

“I’m fine,” she deflected. “I’m going to get you some medicine—”

“Poppy,” Harry said sternly, despite the fact that he looked tired, even after sleeping for so long. “I am a grown man,” he assured her. “M’glad y’want to take care of me. S’an honor. But m’not going t’let you think s’how it’s going t’be,” he explained. “I can get m’own medicine. I will lay down, but you’re going t’lay down with me,” he pulled her hand toward him. “Thank you, for worrying ‘bout me,” he kissed the center of her forehead and let his lips linger there.

God, she wanted to kiss him.

“I want t’kiss you, but m’throat is killing me.”

Her want to kiss him was quickly turning into a need. She adored him. “Please let me get you medicine.”

“Go put on something comfy,” he turned her toward the bedrooms, ignoring her need to help him. “Then, come lay with me,” he headed to the kitchen to get medicine. But it didn’t stop her from trying to make things as comfortable as possible for him. After changing into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt that was too big, she gathered some materials for her stay in Harry’s room. She had a stash of cough drops tucked in her bedside table drawer for nights when she couldn’t sleep well due to congestion or allergies. She grabbed her heating pad for aches (typically used for when she had cramps) but she knew it would help the aches they both felt. She went to his room and set the items on his nightstand, and she made her way back toward the kitchen to grab her water bottle, but she bumped into Harry holding two bottles of water instead. He smirked. “Y’can’t help yourself, hmm Poppy?”

She grinned sheepishly. “I don’t think so,” she admitted. “Especially not for you.”

He shook his head, smiled a little brighter, and pushed her gently toward bed. “Y’can watch TV. I’ll sleep through it.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything—”

“Jus’ you,” he murmured tiredly climbing beneath the covers. He draped an arm across her waist, closed his eyes and nestled into his pillow. Gently, she cupped his face, stroking her thumb along his cheek. “Feels nice,” his voice was groggy. She smiled admiring how cute he was, even when sick. His stuffy nose quickly turned his breathing into a light snore. After a few minutes of shamelessly watching him sleep and ogling his face, she snuggled into his other pillow. Maybe if she was feeling a little better herself, she would have continued to try and care for him, making soup, getting a wet cloth for his head, and the like.

But Harry said it wasn’t necessary. Not that she didn’t want to do it, but for the first time in her whole life, she didn’t feel like she had to. Harry wanted her to snuggle and sleep with him. That was enough, right? For now, it had to be. Because she was tired, and she wanted to sleep with Harry because that’s what he wanted.

Plus, she really couldn’t say no to sleeping with her hot new boyfriend.

*

“Pretty, pretty, pretty,” he murmured skimming the back of his finger across her cheek while she slept. She blinked her eyes open, adjusted to the scenery, and she smirked.

“You must be sick because I can’t even imagine what my hair looks like.”

He chuckled, turning his head slightly to cough. “M’not that sick.”

“Do you need anything?” She asked politely.

“No, Poppy. M’perfectly content,” he promised.

“Let me know—”

“I would never deny you the pleasure of helping me, kitten,” he assured her and leaned forward to kiss her temple. “Jus’ needed some sleep.” His complexion did look a lot better, his eyes less sunken. “I am a very lucky guy, Poppy,” he murmured.

“Lucky? I’m pretty sure I got you sick.”

“Mm, but s’because m’close to you.”

Her stomach swooped a bit because she was used to Harry’s flirting and asking her out. But now he was hers. Which sounded a little possessive in her head, and she felt bad because Harry was his own person and yes, she wanted to live in this bed next to him but that didn’t mean he had to give up autonomy for—

“I’ve dreamt ‘bout you in m’bed a little too much,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “Want you all t’myself.”

She blushed in return. At least the feeling was mutual.

*

“What’s the heart on your calendar?”

Harry wasn’t trying to hide their relationship, but they weren’t being overt about it either. The office (Val and Rachel) had been a bit crazy about the pair of them in general. Once they found out they were a couple, it was going to be difficult to get anything done.

At lunchtime, Harry still gave her space. Unless she asked him to stay, which was difficult for her to do sometimes. But Harry didn’t mind letting her have a moment to herself. They continued not to talk too much during the day. Instead, she found her eyes drifting to his desk where he would smile when he felt his gaze on her. Never breaking from the task that he was working on.

Harry worried silently about her from across the room. You’ve been too close to your screen for a while, kitten. Go for a walk around the office ❤️

Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Poppy. ❤️ Don’t want you to put too much on your plate

Did you eat while I was gone? ❤️

God, she loved him so fucking much.

They didn’t carpool every day either and Harry took care of a lot of the chores around the apartment given she had a second job some nights and he did not. So as worried as she had been about overwhelming Harry with being around him all the time, her anxiety was all for naught.

“Oh, um...” she forgot she drew that on the calendar. She had been lost in the morning debrief from their boss and must have marked their first date with a heart.

“It’s usually a birthday, no?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, right,” she shook her head. “One of my friends from high school...” She hoped the lie wasn’t obvious. “I was thinking about the date and didn’t realize... I guess—” she cleared her throat hoping her overexplaining wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounded.

“Poppy, do y’have the report from yesterday on hand?”

“Yes!” She chirped grateful for the interruption. “Excuse me,” she grabbed a folder that she didn’t need and went to Harry’s desk. He gracefully took it and to his credit, he looked it over with hardly any ounce of lying.

Her phone vibrated. Smooth 😉

🙄 Thank you, I was drowning.

I’m excited for our date. I hope you are too.

Of course I am!

She was also petrified. Due to illness, work, and friends, their first official date was nearly a month after she asked him out. Harry asked her out for over a year. What if it didn’t live up to his expectation? What if she was weird and it was only noticeable on a formal date? What if he decided that loving her was all an illusion? She busied herself with her computer and the next task on her to do list, but her mind was spinning. Fortunately, she had mastered the art of losing her mind and continuing to work without pause.

I’m not going to fall out of love, Poppy. Stop stressing over the date. I’ve waited ages for it. ❤️

She allowed herself to look up at him. How could he see her worry? She was certain she was good at hiding it. It totally threw her that he could see it across the room. Then he was just staring at his own screen as if he hadn’t read her addled mind. He didn’t catch her gaze directly.

But he winked at his screen, smiled, both intended for her despite the fact he didn’t even have to look at her.

*

On the day of the date, she was getting ready, a curling iron wrapped around pieces of her hair, but it was taking twice as long because Joey usually did the curling, but she didn’t want to make a fuss about the date. So now she was listening to Maya vent about her job and wondering if she could look over her resume and cover letter. She was worried she would fall behind schedule and the thought of being late to her own date with the guy she was going on a date within her own apartment was just absolutely unbelievable.

“Ah...” she hissed, catching her finger on the hot iron. “Maya, can you hold on a second? Hunter is calling me,” she shook her hand to get the pain away. “Hunter, it’s after work hours...” she scolded.

“It’s important,” he assured her. “Any chance you could forward me the email with the client information from today’s meeting? I can’t find it and I apparently put this off and now—”

She sighed and headed to her room, hair half up and half curled so she could get her laptop. “I’ll send it now,” she said quietly.

“You’re a lifesaver Mary Poppins,” he assured her with a smile in his voice. “Harry is a lucky guy,” he chuckled.

She felt her cheeks flame. “Goodbye Hunter, don’t talk to me tomorrow.”

She called Maya back as she clicked through her emails. As if she hadn’t hung up, Maya continued ranting. “Jay thinks I’m crazy for wanting to leave but do you know what it’s like to be underappreciated at work? It just feels like a constant cloud over me that I do all of these things—”

She wanted to scream.

“Hey,” Harry’s gentle voice interrupted her worry and stress. She blinked at him. Her hair was a complete mess, and he just smiled.

“Hi Harry!” Maya cheered.

“Hi Maya,” he came closer to her and saw her forwarding the email to Hunter. He rolled his eyes and looked at her pointedly. She shrugged. He shook his head. “How are you?”

“Honestly, not great. I was just explaining how I’m going to quit my job because it makes me feel underappreciated. I’m sure I’m not the only person to ever feel underappreciated at work but—”

Harry was in awe that one of her friends could be so dense like that. “Poppy, y’almost ready?” He asked quietly. On purpose. Her cheeks flamed red even though Maya wasn’t there.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Ready for what? Are you going on a date?” Maya snorted. But the silence was a beat too long. “Oh! OH MY GOD! JAY!” She screamed.

“Bye Maya,” Harry hung up for her. She sent the email to Hunter and soon her phone was blowing up with alerts. Texts and calls from Maya and Joey. She pinched her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“Harry,” she frowned. He pulled the phone from her grip and turned it off. Tucked it into his pocket and ignored the calls and messages that started exploding from his phone.

He shrugged. “They were going t’find out eventually. Finish getting ready, kitten,” he closed her laptop shut for good measure and left the room with it in hand.

*

Harry was insistent that he pick the activity, and she could pick the restaurant. He opened her door before she exited the car, kept a hand on her lower back, pulled out her seat at the restaurant, and was the literal perfect gentleman. Not that he hadn’t been the entire time she’d known him, but this was their first official date.

Which meant they didn’t have tons to talk about because they were pretty well versed with one another. But the silence wasn’t awkward, which was nice. Harry rather enjoyed smiling at her, gazing at her.

“You’re stunning,” he smiled so sweetly it melted her heart, her stomach twisted with butterflies beginning to come out. It was exactly as he had said so many months ago. But now it was real. He was telling her how pretty she looked. He was going to pay for her food. Feed her dessert and he prayed he could kiss her everywhere at the end of the night. They shared bites of their food and Harry insisted she have two drinks because she liked it so much. “I’ll take care of you,” he winked.

When they left the restaurant, Harry placed a hand on her lower back again, guiding her toward their activity. “I am pretty unartistic,” she warned him as he helped tie her apron around her waist. “Like if creative is a trait that you look for in a girlfriend you might need to look elsewhere.”

He chuckled and pulled her hair gently from the loop of the apron that went around her neck, he brushed his thumb on her cheek. “M’sure s’not true, Poppy. Y’decorate so cutely,” he reminded her and quickly put his own apron on. Everything about Harry was gentle and soft.

Was it awful of her to remind herself that these little things might not last forever? That the door opening, the lower back touch, the fixing her hair might not be long term. It wasn’t really fair to Harry. Give him a chance to fall out of love with her, right?

“M’having a really lovely time, Poppy,” he told her. They were sitting at a table meant for four. Each on one side of a corner so they couldn’t see either working. Harry reached for her leg and squeezed her thigh. Calming all worry and racing thoughts.

“Me too,” she smiled. Because she was. Dinner was delicious and it was kind of him to pay for it (even though he said he was going to anyway). The painting was fun. Harry looked handsome as ever. His hair was perfectly styled, and it looked like he ironed his shirt for the occasion. He was pretty to look at. Even at the office, it was hard to keep her eyes from darting over to him at every moment.

“Yeah?” He breathed a sigh of relief, his smile growing.

“Oh goodness, do I not look like I’m having fun? I am, I promise. Dinner was great and even though I’m bad at it, I love painting,” she assured him. “I think I’m just—”

“Jus’ thinking I might not be this sweet forever?” He smiled. She looked at her lap, her cheeks flaming bright red. “S’okay, Poppy. Y’don’t have a reason t’believe any man that they won’t,” he shrugged. “Jus’ promise you’ll let me prove y’wrong, yeah?” He stood up briefly and pressed a kiss to her temple so sweetly. “I like the way y’did your trees,” he pointed immediately. Like he was actively trying to draw her attention away from his very accurate statement. “Looks pretty, we can put it in m’room,” he rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly before he sat down again.

“How do you read my mind like that?” She asked.

His grin was a little devilish, mischievous, like he knew he was trouble for being such a good boyfriend and it was only their first official date. “Been trying t’read your mind for a year, kitten,” he shrugged watching his canvas and listening to the woman at the front teach the next step.

She stood up and stepped closer to him, gently tilting his head toward her so she could kiss his cheek. When she turned to see his painting, she wished she could have been surprised, but it made sense that Harry hadn’t painted what the woman was doing at the front of the room at all, but instead he was painting a vase of poppies.

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he chuckled.

“It’s very pretty,” she whispered.

“S’my favorite flower,” he promised.

God, she really hoped he never fell out of love with her.

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ PUTTING A BOW ON THEIR BELONGINGS 🧸ྀི — monster trio reaction !

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ note! tried messing around bc i wanna find a cute new layout for my posts:( anywho! i hope you enjoy this since im soooo late to this trend *^*

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ LUFFY ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

luffy trusts you, he wouldn’t have given you his hat to look over otherwise. well, look over is a stretch – you weren’t feeling too good and decided to stay on the ship, whereas him and others went to explore. but as time passed, you got bored… and ended up having a brilliant idea. you decided to wrap a pink bow around his hat. not pining it with needles or anything, not to damage it. just loosely wrapping the pink bow you stole from robin, tying a little bow as well. the strings were too long so they fell off the offer of the hat. with a smile you put it on and glanced at yourself in the mirror.

“y/n, we’re back!” luffy’s voice echoed through the corridors and you panicked - you thought you will have time to take it off. but then the door slammed open and your boyfriend standing in them. his features softened upon noticing his hat on your head. he walked up to you and curiously twirled with the strings, a gummy smile growing on his lips.

“i don’t think the bow suits me but we should get you one as well, then we’ll be matching!” luffy grinned and put the hat on his head. you smiled softly and his arm wrapped around you “are you feeling better?”

when the pink strings fell before his eyes, he started blowing air in order to get them out of his sight. safe to say, he wasn’t fully listening to you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ SANJI ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

to be honest, you thought he would notice right away. but days passed by and sanji was still cluelessly roaming around with ribbon around his apron straps. maybe because the bows weren’t too big or in an unusual place, you weren’t sure. you didn’t mind telling him since he looked cute in those. even luffy and usopp noticed the cook’s apron decorations, chuckling.

“what?” sanji asked, putting a plate on the table, not amused.

“cute little bows you got there” usopp scowled. you looked up since he was standing behind you. sanji just scoffed and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“i know. y/n put them for me, i wouldn’t dare take them off” he hummed and you felt your cheeks warm up.

“you noticed?” you asked shyly.

“ever since you put them on. they’re cute, i don’t mind” he hummed and left to continue serving the dishes (not before leaving a tender kiss on the top of your head).

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ZORO ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

obviously, you planned to wrap a ribbon around at least one of zoro’s swords! but the problem was… he carries them around with him everywhere. luckily, he loves you.

“is this… necessary?” the swordsman grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“mhm” you sing-sang cheerfully, sticking your tongue out to focus. he just huffed and watched you carefully wrap a pink bow around his second sword.

zoro didn’t even realize when he started smiling.

“okay, beautiful. now, onto the last!” you chirped and leaned forward to grab the last sword.

“and how exactly do you want me to fight with those?” zoro teased, his arms crossed.

“normally, duh!” you grinned and placed the sword gently on your lap. zoro watched you trace the handle absentmindedly yet gently. his heart felt weirdly warm and all fuzzy upon seeing how tender you were with them.

his eyes followed your swift movements, your fingers tying a bow quickly but precisely.

“and all done!” you looked up and blush spread across your face. zoro looked totally whipped. “don’t look at me like that”

“like what?” zoro asked and reached to hide his katana back in its safe space.

“like you’re in love or something” you huffed, half teasingly. then, to hide your face, you ploppep your head onto his lap.

zoro gently traced the pink bow around the handle of his sword.

“yeah, as if” he scoffed and shoved you gently. you rolled off him, deciding to wrestle the swordsman. (and failing miserably).

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taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[shalomniscient]

convenience, part 1 || tsukishiro yanagi x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Your heat, rather inconveniently, comes a whole two days early in the middle of your shift at your job. Your boss drops you off at a heat clinic, and you manage to get paired with who you think might just be the most perfect alpha in all of New Eridu.

cw. omegaverse, alpha yanagi, omega reader, all the usual omv stuff like knotting & breeding

notes. wrote this in a haze of horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi. yes there will be a part 2 at some point because i will most certainly slip and slide back into horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi one of these days

Heat clinic.

Such a nice, polite word for what’s essentially a fuck-centre.

Yes, you know in reality it’s just another facet of reproductive healthcare services, and there’s nothing really intimate about it—if the dozens of screenings, tests, and legal documents were anything to go by—but the concept itself is still a little funny. The idea that something so inherently primal could just be dressed up in some clinical wording and a facade with the aesthetic of a dentist’s office and suddenly be completely socially acceptable.

A foggy part of your brain is trying to do the same right now and draft up some polite excuse as to why you had to leave work early today, but with the way Yanagi’s cock is literally rearranging your insides, it’s an effort in futility.

You almost melt against the sheets with another low, drawn out moan feeling her all the way in your damn stomach. You barely even remember how you got here; your heat, the damn unpredictable thing it is, had hit early while you were still on your shift. Staying in the store would’ve been a terrible idea, what with it almost being rush hour, and so your poor boss—a beta man, thankfully—had sped you on over to the nearest heat clinic in Lumina Square. And you had writhed and squirmed on the bed that had too many too sterile pillows for God knows how long until they finally managed to send an alpha in to help you. She’d smelled of fresh laundry and warm bread and by that point there really wasn’t much else you wanted to think about besides getting her scent all over you immediately.

“Yanagi,” you whine, wiggling your hips petulantly at her slow, controlled pace. It’s strange, how well her name fits on her tongue despite you only learning it a few—minutes? hours? you don’t even know, honestly—ago. The alpha behind you croons low in her throat, leaning down to brush the bare, sweat-damp skin of your shoulder with her nose. But instead of that skin-to-skin you expect, you get smooth leather instead, and you remember that this is a damn heat clinic, and all heat clinic alphas have to wear a Mask.

It’s a safety precaution, and a sensible one at that; having an omega be accidentally marked during what should just be a transactional encounter would be horrifying for both the alpha and omega, and a world of legal pain for the clinic. Hence the invention of the Mask—a generally non-invasive little leather contraption that covers the alpha’s mouth completely, with well placed openings to still allow for easy breathing and speech. You’re normally more grateful for its existence in keeping omegas such as yourself safe, but right now it may as well have been invented by the devil.

“Breathe,” Yanagi reminds you, her voice ever so soft in a way you’ve never heard an alpha be before. Your previous heat partners, while still somewhat gentle—you’d specified as such in your documentation—still tended to have that typical alpha-ness to them. Demanding and commanding, eager to take and wring as many orgasms from you as they can manage. Which is, of course, exactly what you need, deep in the throes of heat as you are, but it leaves you with a rather heavy mental weight after that takes a while to lift. But Yanagi is calm, measured, and careful, even as she sinks balls deep into you, knot bumping the stubborn ring of your entrance. It makes your basest omega instinct preen with satisfaction at being so tenderly cared for, that you find yourself thinking, quite stupidly, that you could get used to this—to Yanagi.

She coaxes you out of that little reverie with the brush of her thumb against your clit. You jolt, startled but pleased, rocking forward slightly onto the sheets ruined with your slick. Yanagi follows with a roll of her hips, bumping the head of her wonderful cock against that spongy collection of nerves and drawing another warbling cry of her name from your lips. She moves with such patient elegance and finesse that you’d think she wasn’t in rut and had to find refuge in the nearest heat clinic like you. Or, rut clinic, in her case. This particular branch in Lumina Square did both, and what a blessing that turned out to be.

“Yanagi, faster,” you urge, whiny and out of your mind with lust, looking over your shoulder at her. Soft pink eyes meet your own, and her pupils blow just a little wider. You hear her breathe in deep through her mouth, the sound amplified by the Mask, and a primal giddiness runs down your spine. You know what she’s doing; inhaling your scent and letting it coat the inside of her mouth, her throat, and letting it fan the flames of her own lust. She relents with the quietest growl you’ve heard from an alpha, drawing her hands back to rest them on your hips, palms flat against your skin.

And then she’s snapping her hips forward, fucking you, and you’re completely and utterly gone. Your head drops, cheek against the mattress as your arms give out under you, and you melt against the sheets into a delicate arch that has Yanagi twitching inside you. Your brain drips out of your pussy around her cock, not a damn thought in your mind beyond the steady, rhythmic drives of her railing you senseless. You can feel her knot swelling, bumping against the lips of your cunt and it only makes you squeeze tighter around her.

Yanagi pants behind you, nails digging more into the meat of your hips. The scent of her floods your senses, and she almost smells like home were it not for the underlying, extremely faint but still somewhat noticeable scent of ozone and iron. She’s testing the waters with her knot, seeing how much you’re ready to give by pushing it forward ever so slightly then drawing back. It makes your fingers curl in the sheets, more needy whines falling from your lips as you beg her to stuff you full. Yanagi shudders at that, leaning down to—or attempting to—nose the dip of your spine between your shoulder blades.

“I’m going to knot you,” she promises gently, and you mewl in anticipation. “Be sweet for me, okay? Breathe, and relax. You’re doing so well, good girl.”

Holy fuck.

“Likes to be praised” was not an option even given to you on the forms, but somehow, either by luck or intuition, Yanagi had struck absolute gold. You nearly cum then and there at the praise, moaning unashamedly as your cunt clenches like a vise around her cock. Yanagi makes a small, choked noise in the back of her throat, clawing at your hips to steady herself again. It takes her a moment and several calming breaths before she can resume her slow press into you and you bite the sheets to make up for the fact you can’t sink your teeth into her shoulder instead.

Yanagi is already big, deliciously so, but her knot is certainly something else. You’re suddenly grateful for the generous amount of lube that was provided in the room and that Yanagi had the sense to use before she stuffed you full of her cock. It makes the stretch of her controlled slide into you far more bearable—not that you would’ve given up even if it wasn’t. Heat crazed as you are, you’re sure you’d find a way. Thankfully, Yanagi’s foresight made such extremes unnecessary, and she nuzzles soothingly at your neck, by your scent gland as she inches deeper and deeper, stretching you more and more until her knot slips fully inside you with a wet pop.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you cum with a loud cry, inner walls spasming and fluttering around her thick length. You almost feel like you might pass out, utterly light headed, cumming not in spite of the stretch but because of it. Fuck, Yanagi might just have ruined you for any other alpha. You feel your slick spray out and coat your thighs despite the knot buried inside you, and you make a noise between a moan and a sob as your orgasm rips through you viciously. Yanagi rocks and grunts behind you, riding that knife’s edge of stimulation until she’s tipping off of it herself, releasing your hips in favor of bracing herself over you, palms bracketing your head as she spills into you with a stifled, drawn out groan. You feel her throb inside you, pulsing with each jet of cum she deposits into your eager cunt. You can’t help but preen at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly, which Yanagi returns with a low, soothing croon.

She makes sure to lie on her side to recover, deceptively strong yet slim arms holding you close. It’s a welcome reprieve from the many alphas who would simply flop on top of you and crush you into the mattress, and you make a pleased noise, your brain buzzing with happy, satiated chemicals. Her cosy scent just makes you relax further, sweet honey on fresh toast, like home, and you find your eyelids drooping. Yanagi notices, and a lilting, melodic laugh resonates through the Mask.

“Rest,” she says gently, a hand caressing your side, “you did well.”

You have some time to kill anyway, knotted together as you both are. So you take her suggestion, and drift off into a satisfied slumber. What happens next is for your heat-free brain to deal with, but you’re certain of at least one thing: you’re not spending your next heat with anyone other than her.

When you wake, you wake woefully bereft.

Your thighs are parted, and you hiss when something wet and cold touches your skin. You blink open your eyes blearily, and find Yanagi looking down at you from where she kneels by your side, running a washcloth along your inner thigh. Her Mask is off, set on the bedside table now that both of you are somewhat stable enough to head back home and weather the rest of your respective heat and ruts privately. Her lips are curved into a small, glossy smile, and a pair of red-rimmed glasses rest delicately on the bridge of her nose.

“Did you rest well?” she asks, smoothing the washcloth down your other thigh. “I hope you don’t mind that I took some initiative. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or sticky when waking up.”

It takes you a while to find your voice, but when you do find it, it’s utterly wrecked. Yanagi flushes slightly at the sound when you speak, looking ridiculously cute for someone who just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Yes to the first, no to the second,” you answer, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Yanagi’s smile broadens, and she shakes her head lightly. “I should be thanking you—my rut hit early out of nowhere, and if you weren’t willing…”

“I could say the same for you,” you rasp wryly, watching as she diligently cleans you. She takes care not to give too much stimulation to your sensitive sex, but makes sure to clean up the remaining drops of her cum that still leak from you. “I guess we both got lucky.”

“Quite,” Yanagi agrees, and you see her throat bob as she tries not to focus on the way her seed drips out of your cunt. “In any case, you were… very helpful. Thank you.”

You manage a dry chuckle at that. What a polite alpha. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

The flush on her cheeks deepens ever so slightly, and she ducks her gaze away from yours, almost bashful. She sets the cloth down on a disposal bin on the bedside table, then turns to grab something further down the bed. A surprised noise leaves your lips when you see what it is: your clothing, all neatly folded. And if your nose is telling you the truth—

“I… took the liberty to scent your shirt,” she admits, still not meeting your eyes. “Just to tide you over until you make it home. It should deter any other alphas from trying anything.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry. You wonder if you’re dreaming—do alphas this nice really exist? You’ve met your fair share of decent alphas, but they all have that typical alpha arrogance about them. If she hadn’t just knotted you, you might have thought she was an omega with how tender she’s being, and you find yourself thinking for the second time today how you could get so used to this.

“Thank you,” you say eventually. Yanagi nods, relieved, then rises from the bed. She’s already clothed; although, she didn’t take much of her clothes off while fucking you in the first place, just popping a few buttons of her shirt and hiking her skirt up enough to get it out of the way after ditching her corset. She fixes the tassels of her tie, ready to head out the door, and the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Do you want to do this again?”

Your jaw clicks shut as soon as Yanagi stills, turning to face you with a puzzled look on her face. She blinks, brows furrowing as she considers your words. “This… again?”

“There’s an option for, uh— scheduled sessions between an alpha and an omega, if they choose,” you explain, trying not to sound as nervous as you feel. “It saves on hoping for another presentation to be available when your heat or rut rolls around.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Yanagi hums, eyes drifting to the side as she takes a moment to consider.

“It’d be convenient,” you continue, unable to help yourself from pressing a little more. If you sound desperate, you can’t be bothered to be ashamed. You’d rather lose your dignity than this damn perfect alpha before you. “And you’re someone who likes convenience and routine, right?”

Yanagi raises a brow. “How did you figure that?”

“Well,” you shrug, attempting nonchalance, “I suppose it was a lucky guess. How did you know I liked being praised?”

Yanagi turns beet red at that, a palm shooting up to cover half her face. Even her ears are a delicate blush colour. “It just… felt right,” she mumbles, her home-like scent thick with embarrassment. You chuckle softly at that.

“See? I think this could be mutually beneficial, Yanagi. What do you say?”

The time it takes her to think feels like it stretches on forever. You can almost see the gears on her head turning, analysing, as if weighing the costs and benefits over every last detail of your proposal. Those pink eyes gleam with an intensity you can’t help but feel drawn to in a way you’ve never felt before with any alpha. Eventually, she turns back to you with a small, polite smile.

“We could give it a shot.”

You grin, feeling relief flood your system so strongly you nearly fall back onto the bed. “Sounds great. I’ll see you next month, then?”

“Next month,” Yanagi returns, and then she slips out the door with the click of heels on cold tile. You flop back onto the pillows when the door closes, unable to stifle a giddy, girlish laugh from spilling from your lips.

God, for once in your life, you can’t wait for your next heat.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I simply must know, would the teenage friend groups (dead guys included) of AEIWAM and TPOFATGIF get along? Any standout crossover friendships and/or rivalries?

Ichigo and Tristan recognize the dead-eyed stare of "It's always fucking something" in each other and have a great time standing in the alley and trading their most WTF stories at increasingly loud volume.

Bakura and Orihime are immediate "autistic little weirdo into unexpectedly creepy shit" besties. The rest of the friend groups find them in the local graveyard looking up names on unattended tombstones to see what happened (and pay respects).

Chad immediately gloms onto Joey to be his Emotional Support Human who has conversations with strangers for him. Joey is thrilled to be helpful, and likewise, Chad is his "Remembering the Homework" human.

Serenity smells the violence on Tatsuki and is immediately trying to sign her up for the local SCA. Tatsuki is trying to convince her to attend Karakura High next year so she can beef up the Karate team.

Keigo already knows Rex Raptor and Weevil Underwood from the unhinged web forums they get into arguments on.

Mizurio already knows Mokuba from when Mokuba commissioned one of Mizurio's mob uncles to get one of the BEWD cards through less-than-legal means. Mokuba has immense respect for Mizurio's total disregard for conventional authority and Mizurio the same respect for Mokuba's understated willingness to do violence.

Uryuu and Duke bond over "my dad is completely insane for reasons I can't really discuss with most people" and "it's called FASHION" reasons.

The people who get along best with Seto are Rukia and Renji, because they are used to "autistic bougie severe familial trauma that is fixated on one VERY niche character" nonsense from Byakuya, and know how to auto-translate Seto into Normal People, and also subtly train him to have normal conversations.

The person who gets along with Yami is Isshin- in AEIWAM, Isshin genuinely has amnesia from 1980 onward. He doesn't remember being a captain, and hearing stories about himself is like hearing about a stranger. It's a bizarre feeling of alienation Yami understands well.

Yoruichi sees Mai Valentine and immediately knows that should they go drinking together, it will almost certainly result in major property damage, felonies, and the worst hangover she's ever had, so naturally, she asks the girl to come on a spree with her.

Yugi has always had an easier time making friends with the adults around than his peers- having friends his own age is a very recent development. Due to Grandpa Solomon hanging around the senior center with his peer group of "Old Men With Nothing Better To Do", Yugi is very acclimated to playing board games with random adults. Kisuke Urahara hasn't had anyone kick his ass at Go that hard in a long time, and the kid is strangely canny to things Kisuke *thought* he'd concealed well. Yugi thinks Urahara 's Go game is a little rusty, but whatever the hell espionage game he's playing is REALLY intriguing.

[joooooniecore]

Confessed by the wrong person

scoupsxfem!reader, best friends to lovers, happy ending

PLOT: a reunion changes everything between you and your best friend Seungcheol. A revengeful confession. Will you both be able to find each other back? Or drift apart?

WARNINGS: smut, explicit language, bodily fluids mentioned, tiny bullying? smut has been marked(skip if uncomfortable)

______________________________________________________________

CTRL+A and backspace. These two are the only things you have known for the past two months. Being an author is fun they said. You would call yourself kind of a newbie author who rose into fame through her debut book. You are a romance book writer but recently you are trying to do something a little different for your fifth book. A mystery thriller encapsuled in a romance book. Its different and hence you are unable to think of any possible plots. A tenuous job. Your agent was kind enough to give you six months' time to finish this book. Your other books were doing great so you could sit back and relax a bit while working on this book.

The doorbell was what brought you out of your endless turmoil. You groaned a bit while getting up from the office chair that have by now moulded itself to the shape of your body. Your hips cracking a bit as you walked up to the door to see who it was. Opening the door widely, you are welcomed by a very happy Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol has been your best friend for ages. You both went to the same high school and later attended the same university. It was always you both. From the awkward teenage phase to the pressure of university projects. You both never left each other's sides and everyone around you knew that. You were a duo. A duo many loved but also many hated. The hate list mostly included Seungcheol's dates. All of them miraculously hated you even if you rarely met him. You weren't exactly the type of person who would try to be in her male friend's arms pretending to be platonic. You maintained distance and never sabotaged his dates.

Even if you were in love with him.

"I bought food, now move.", Seungcheol said as he pushed past you and kept the food on the dining table before taking his usual spot on the couch.

"Why are you here?", you asked clearly confused.

"Why? Can't I meet my best friend?", Seungcheol feigned a pout.

You rolled your eyes before replying, "No idiot. I strongly believe that one should work on weekdays."

Seungcheol shrugged his shoulders before replying, "I am the boss so..."

Seungcheol took over his dad's company once he completed his studies. It was his lifelong dream to become a business man. His dad is a very lenient man and actually never pressured Seungcheol into inheriting his company but Seungcheol wanted to do that. So now, with his dad retired, he is the current CEO of the company. You were actually proud of him for achieving something like that at such a young age.

You checked the packets he had bought and it was mostly snacks. You picked out two packets of chips and sat beside him before handing him one.

"How is your book coming along?", Seungcheol asked between bites.

"It's umm well not going great.", you answered with not much confidence in your voice.

"Why? What's wrong?", Seungcheol asked.

"I am unable to create the plot.", you truthfully confessed. You have been struggling to arrange the plot for over a month now and it was killing you from inside. Normally you struggle with writing lines but it has never happened to you that you have not a single plot idea in mind.

"You will be fine. Don't worry.", Seungcheol said as he patted your back.

"Are you going to the reunion?", Seungcheol asked.

The reunion. That is something you have been dreading for quite some time. You love your classmates, there is no lie in that. But you hated that one girl who had once been your entire life. Your ex best friend. The girl you shared everything with. The girl who was there on your highs and lows and the girl who was the only one who knew how you harbored a tiny crush for your male best friend. Haewon.

You and Haewon became close very quickly and were each other's solace. You both went to classes together and even shared weekends at each other's dorm rooms. Seungcheol being in the different department actually gave you less time to meet him so most of your time was taken over by Haewon. Then she started expanding her friend circle. She would talk to the more popular girls of the department and hang out with them more often. The meet ups increased and slowly she abandoned you. She became mean, closed off and somewhat invincible.

You tried to talk with her many times, reminding her about the friendship you both shared but nothing bothered her. She was proud of being one of the famous girls in the class and you were simply a dark spot in her ever so flashy life. You gave up. After that one fight which has been the nastiest fight you have ever encountered, you walked out of her life and planned on never looking back.

"I am not sure Cheol.", you said clearly not willing to face Haewon and her new friends. You knew they will be there, showing off the successes they have had after university.

"Come on. I have no one else to go with.", Seungcheol nagged.

"Don't lie. Jeonghan is going, I know.", your grumbled.

"Yes, but we both know that he is going to flirt all night.", Seungcheol reasoned.

You chuckled a bit after remembering how good Jeonghan is at flirting with literally anyone he finds attractive. You thought for a bit, and seeing how Seungcheol really has no one to go with, you agreed. He jumped on you, hugging you tight as if you saved him from some sort of apocalypse.

______________________________________________________________

The next few days went by in a blur. You were added to the reunion group and you were fearing to even look at the members of the group. The reunion was actually going to be a weekend long trip to a nearby beach city. A simple weekend with old friends sounded so fun if you omitted that one group of people. You decided to not think about it.

It was one morning when you woke up earlier than you do and went out for a walk in the park. You normally exercised at home or in the gym that was attached to your apartment complex but you felt like you need some fresh air. As you walked through the beautiful scenery of the park, you could see many people who have come for morning walks, jogs or even to take their dog out. There were elderly people exercising in the middle of the green ground and you kind of found it peaceful.

After rounding the entire park two times, you decided to sit on a bench and rest. A little while later, you felt someone sit beside you but you were so engrossed in thinking about the plot that you barely noticed.

"Want a drink?", came the deep voice from beside you.

You whipped your head to see Seungcheol smiling at you. His forehead was glistening with sweat from exercising or running laps and he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt for god's sake. His biceps proudly on display and his abs and rigid chest slightly visible through the sweat dripping shirt that was stuck to his body like a glove.

You gulped a bit, trying to maintain your composure and nodded your head. He took out an energy drink from his backpack and handed it over to you not before opening the can by himself.

"There you go.", he said with a tender smile.

These were the kind of things that Seungcheol did which made your heart flutter. He would pay for your dinners, send food to your house, buy you expensive gifts and even run to you whenever you need him. He was a gentleman through and through. You have never seen him miss a chance to open the car door for you. You normally looked at these things through a platonic eye but at certain moments they urged you to ask him "What are we?"

You took the drink and chugged it down in one go, coughing a bit when the strong acid hit the back of your throat.

"Easy there love.", Seungcheol said as he patted your back to help you control your reactions. The warmth of his hand on your back did nothing but send shivers down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to control yourself.

"You run here?", you asked after you have controlled your hiccups.

"Yes. I always come here for running. Great place.", Seungcheol explained as he himself took a sip of the drink he was holding.

"Why have I never known about this?", you asked.

"Well maybe because rich people go to apartment attached gyms.", he joked, elbowing you.

"Yah! You are rich too!", you pouted.

"I live in a house, not apartment.", he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and hit him in the chest which did nothing to him. Instead, it made your imagination go wild when your hands laid flat on his chest even if it were for a fraction of second. The hardness of his muscles imprinted on your palm as you flinched a bit and laughed nervously.

"When will you go home?", he asked after a while.

"In a bit.", you replied, enjoying the nature around you.

"Let me walk you back to your house.", Seungcheol said as he got up.

"I can walk back myself.", you said as you also got up and started walking but couldn't reach far as he held your elbow firmly and pulled you closer to him.

"W-What's wrong?", you asked, internally cursing at how you stuttered.

"You see that man over there.", he said as he subtly pointed at this very strange man.

"Yeah? What about him?", you asked.

"He has been eyeing you since past ten minutes. Its only eight in the morning and the streets are empty. Let me. Please.", he practically begged you.

You nodded and started walking with him. And as if on cue, the man eyed you, trying to find a way to see if Seungcheol was going to be with you and that felt like a gut punch. You hated how men thought of women as easy targets, almost trying to attack even if it is in the broad daylight.

After reaching the apartment door, you asked Seungcheol to come in for breakfast which he declined saying that he needs to run some errands before he visits his office.

The rest of the day went by quickly as you sat on your desk and thought of plots. You were actually elated when you thought of a good plot and even discussed it with your agent who gave you a green signal. You racked your brain for ideas and finally by evening, your first chapter was done and you have almost decided eighty percent of the ending.

A phone call took you out of your zone as you picked up the phone to find Jeonghan calling.

"Hello Jeonghan-ah!", you smiled.

"Hie! I have been meaning to call you. How have you been?", Jeonghan said.

"I have been great. What about you?", you asked.

"Great. I heard you are coming to the reunion with Seungcheol.", he said and you could hear the teasing in his voice.

Jeonghan is someone you can never hide something from. He will know and there is no denying in that. The first day he saw you and Seungcheol together at that one party, he came up to you and bombarded you with questions and you quickly complied and told him about your feelings. He laughed and said that Seungcheol was really dumb to miss on a girl like you which you were not sure if was true or not. Why would Seungcheol regret it? You are no one special. And with his money and looks, Choi Seungcheol can date anyone he wants. Then why you?

"I am going yes.", you answered with a sigh.

"Come on it will be fun. So, you both entering like a couple or...?", Jeonghan asked.

"No! We are going as friends Jeonghan.", you answered through gritted teeth.

"Wow stupid people. Anyways, just so you know, I won't let Haewon and her minions ruin this trip for you.", Jeonghan firmly confirmed.

______________________________________________________________

The day of the reunion came closer and your heart started beating faster. You were stressed about your book itself and on top of that you haven't packed anything for your trip. Everything was a mess and it overwhelmed you. You panicked so much that you lied down on the ground in your living room and cried. Finally, when you realized that the panic wasn't going away, you called Seungcheol.

"Hello?", came Seungcheol's husky voice.

"Hey umm are you busy?", you asked, clearly unsure of how you should say this.

"A bit. Why?", said Seungcheol

"Oh. Then no worries.", you quickly said.

"____. What happened?", Seungcheol demanded sternly.

"Its nothing important.", you tried to dismiss the situation.

"You say it or I come there and find out myself.", he warned.

"I was just having a panic attack as everything was overwhelming me so I thought of calling you.", you explained.

"Are you okay now? Do I need to come right now?", Seungcheol asked, clearly concerned.

"I am fine now.", you said.

"Okay. Listen to me carefully. I want you to take some rest and give me half an hour. I will come to you by then.", Seungcheol explained.

"No. Its not required.", you reasoned.

"Just listen to me once.", Seungcheol groaned and you agreed.

Half an hour later, Seungcheol was actually standing in your living room, helping you sort through your dresses with the help of his sister. She commented on every dress and was glad enough to help you pick some good ones.

"Thank you Seunghee.", you said as you smiled at her through the phone.

"Noona, can I talk to you for a second. Go to the other room.", she said.

"Why? I also want to hear it.", Seungcheol visibly pouted.

"No dummy. I want to have a girl talk.", Seunghee rolled her eyes.

You gladly took the phone from Seungcheol's hands and went to your bedroom before plugging your headphone in.

"What is it?", you finally asked.

"You remember the red dress that I rejected?", she asked and you nodded. It's a bodycon, mini dress with shimmery design and looks absolutely great on you. You were actually disheartened when Seunghee said no to it.

"Pack that when Seungcheol goes back home.", she said with a smirk.

"Huh? Why?", you asked, clearly confused.

"You are dumb enough to not see that my brother likes you.", Seunghee rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time.

"What? He doesn't!", you whisper yelled.

"Trust me this one time please. Take that dress and wear it on the night of party. Please.", she pleaded with those glistening eyes that you can never say no to. Seunghee was someone you immensely adored and so you easily caved in.

After the conversation, you handed the phone back to Seungcheol and when he asked about what his sister said, you denied it saying it was related to some girly stuffs that he won't be interested in. You have heard many people say that Seungcheol might like you but for the first time you let someone's words actually affect you. Seunghee's words were enough to put a seed of doubt in your mind and you started seeing everything Seungcheol did from a different perspective.

______________________________________________________________

The journey to the beach town was nothing special. Everyone boarded the train and went there, clearly not sitting side by side. You saw Haewon once but she was soon off to a different coach with her friends. It felt like a relief to you. The rest of the journey went by you and Seungcheol eating, reading, listening to songs and laughing while remembering your college days.

The hotel was pleasant looking. It looked over the beach and gave an amazing view of the sea. You have always been a beach person and finding out that your room overlooked the ocean made you all giddy from inside. After setting your luggage in your room, you went to the attached balcony to enjoy the view. Seungcheol knocked on your door and informed you that everyone is planning to eat something before resting for the evening.

You had some food and sat at the farthest corner, clearly trying to avoid Haewon. You only looked up when Seungcheol sat across you with his food and when someone came by you to greet you and talk with you for a bit. Most of the people who came on the trip were nice. They talked with you with the same enthusiasm that they showed during your college days. Jeonghan was coming later in the evening because he had to get some job done before he catches the train.

The rest of the evening went along without any more interactions. You locked yourself in your room and worked on the book. You have made quite some progress and were actually proud with how good it was coming out. You busied yourself with finished at least the initial segments of the story, weaving most of the mystery and romance that were the main focus of your book.

After dinner you were too tired to even keep up with most of the conversations and you decided to call it a day.

The next day, everyone decided to hit the beach. Jeonghan was finally here and you along with Seungcheol decided to go together. You weren't exactly feeling comfortable in wearing a bikini so you decided on a tank cropped top and some shorts.

As you walked out of your room, you felt someone eyeing you as you turned to see Seungcheol leaning against one of the pillars in the main reception area. He gave you a lazy smile as he walked up to you.

"Good morning.", he said in a soft voice and your heart skipped a beat.

"Morning. Where is Jeonghan?", you asked, trying to compose yourself.

"He is already gone. You are late madam.", he teased and you simply rolled your eyes before walking out of the door, followed by Seungcheol who was simply smiling from ear to ear.

As soon as you stepped on the sand, you saw Haewon and her friends in bikini, lying on beach towels and tanning themselves. You decided to maintain a distance and sit a bit farther near other classmates. They gladly welcomed you and soon you were laughing and chatting happily with them. They even congratulated you for your successful releases. One of the girls even brought one of your books with her on the trip and you were happy enough to sign it for her. It felt good to see people actually being happy seeing you succeed.

"I didn't see you in the hotel last night.", came a high-pitched voice from behind you.

You turned to see Haewon standing there and just said, "I had an early dinner."

"Why? Growing old I see. Or is it your boring books that make you old?", she smirked and you really had no idea why she hated you so much.

You just smiled at her and that seemed to infuriate her more as she walked off.

"I don't like her.", said one of the classmates and all you could was simply agree.

The tension didn't die down from there. Every time you went past her and her friends; they would glare at you. From commenting on your looks to almost faking their concern about your weight gain. You have seen and heard many such things and this was not going to ruin you. Past you would have broken down and cried for days but present you was successful and had a very strong mental grip.

"You know why Haewon hates you so much?", Jeonghan asked as soon as he sat beside you.

You both were currently in the hotel garden that was beautifully decorated with all kinds of flowers.

"Because I am boring?", you answered unsure.

"No! She doesn't care about that.", Jeonghan laughed.

"Then why? I haven't done a thing to her.", you reasoned.

"She likes Seungcheol. Let me tell you a secret. She confessed to Seungcheol on the graduation day.", Jeonghan whispered.

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, "What? Seungcheol never said me that."

Jeonghan laughed a bit and said, "Yes. He knew you hated her and so he just didn't want to bother you more. He rejected her."

"Really? For me?", you were shocked by this new information.

"Yes. He said to her that he can't accept it because of what she has done to you and hence Haewon hates you. Because Seungcheol chose you over her.", Jeonghan concluded.

With this information in mind, you felt like you should infuriate her more. The plan was approved by Jeonghan and he even told you to glam up. It was Saturday and everyone will be gathering in the party hall of the hotel for a reunion party before they go back home the next day.

You decided to wear the red dress and even called Seunghee to help you with your makeup. She was more than happy to help. She told you to leave your hair open and un-styled because it looked good in its natural wavey form. She told you to do subtle makeup but put some bold red lipstick. The dress did the rest of the job as it hugged your curves perfectly. Finally strapping in the high heels, you were ready to go.

Seungcheol was already at the party when you entered with Jeonghan. The moment you entered, you saw Seungcheol get up and walk to you.

Jeonghan whispered a little 'enjoy' and left your side to talk with someone else.

Your breath hitched when you saw Seungcheol check you out from top to bottom. His hot gaze never leaving your figure as he took long strides and in a mere matter of minutes was standing in front of you, towering you even if you were wearing high heels.

"Hi.", you finally said.

"Wow. You- I mean don't take in the wrong way but you look very pretty.", Seungcheol sighed, his hot breath fanning your face.

"Thank you. You also don't look bad.", you teased and he smirked.

You both sat near the bar and ordered few drinks. Laughing and judging everyone that came here. You both shared a bond that nothing could break and at these moments you wished for him to stay in your life forever. Even if you never confess, you would want him to stay as a friend.

"Let's play truth and dare.", someone yelled and everyone agreed, soon huddling into a circle.

You sat in between Seungcheol and Jeonghan on the chair and someone spun the bottle. The game continued for like thirty minutes or so before it finally landed in between you and Mina, Haewon's friend. Your breath hitched as you saw Haewon smirk before whispering something to her friend.

You chose truth just to play it safe.

"Tell me a secret of yours that no one knows about?", she asked.

You racked your brain a bit and finally said, "Umm I write better when sitting in my bathtub."

There were some giggles and relief washed over you. Seungcheol looked at you as if you have offended him and said, "What? How do you use your laptop in that situation?" and you simply just flipped him off.

"Come one ____, you know we want something worse.", Mina smirked.

Your eyes went wide as you said, "I-I don't have such secrets."

"Seriously? You don't? You are not secretly harboring a crush on someone for years now?", challenged Mina and you knew you were fucked.

Seungcheol went stiff beside you as you saw him slightly retract his hands that were originally resting on the back rest of your chair. You quickly felt the loss of warmth that was coming from his hand over your shoulders.

"I-no I don't.", you answered but the slight tremor in your voice gave it away.

This time Haewon stepped in, meaning to ruin you for once and for all as she simply said, "So you are telling me that you are not in love with your best friend?"

That was the final nail on your coffin. You stiffened as you could only look down. Your mind raced as everyone around you hollered. As if on cue, Seungcheol rested his hand on your back and you flinched. You got up, murmuring a small 'excuse me' and left the party even though you could hear your friends call you. Without thinking anything you ran straight to your room and while you fumbled with the keys, you felt a presence behind you.

You turned around to see Seungcheol standing there, breathing heavily as if he has run hundred miles.

"Damn woman. How can you walk so fast in those heels?", he managed to breath normally.

"I- can you leave me alone please?", you pleaded.

"No. We both know that we need to talk.", he answered sternly and you were left with no option but to welcome him inside.

He sat on the bed and patted the space beside him for you to sit. The closeness caused shivers down your spine as you sat down.

"Listen-", he was about to start talking but you stopped him and spoke first.

"I know. I am sorry for hiding it. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and its fine that you don't have feelings for me. You can end the friendship if you want. I was just scared to confess because I knew you would never like someone lik-", this time you were cut off but not by his words, rather by his lips. On yours.

!!SMUT STARTS FROM HERE!!

Without realizing what was happening, you kissed him back. The kiss soon escalated as you both devoured each other's mouth before creating a distance only to breath.

"W-Wha- What was that?", you stammered.

"I didn't know how to shut you up darling.", Seungcheol said with an easy smile.

His fingers were placed on your hip as he firmly kneaded the skin and it sent shivers down your spine. Even if you were wearing clothes, you could feel the warmth of his hand right across your skin.

"I- you? Why would you?", you were at loss of words.

"I have liked you for a long time too. I also didn't want to ruin our friendship and hence I went on all those meaningless dates so that I could move on from you which never happened. I never moved on from you. You were it for me and I should have confessed sooner. I am sorry."

His confession made you blush as you closed the distance and kissed him. Your body molding with his as he pulled you on his lap, your dress riding up a bit as you sat on his thighs.

"This dress has been driving me insane all night.", Seungcheol groaned as he firmly gripped your hips and made you grind on his lap. You moaned in response as your slowly moved your hips in a rhythmic motion.

"The moment I saw you, I wanted to slam you against a wall and kiss you dumb.", said Seungcheol as he stared at your eyes with nothing but lust.

"Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me dumb.", you teased as you dipped your head a bit but didn't exactly kiss him.

This seemed to work wonders as he groaned and kissed you harshly. It wasn't a sweet kiss. This kiss was all teeth. It was a storm after a calm day. It was like the oceans that gushed and hit the shore harshly. His tongue played like waves inside your mouth as his hands grazed over every part of your body, as if memorizing you.

Seungcheol found the chain of the dress and slowly pulled it down, as you got out of it. The dress bunching up near your hips only.

"Fuck.", Seungcheol whispered as he saw the lingerie you were wearing.

"Please tell me that it is a matching set.", he pleaded and you nodded shyly.

"Did you wear this for me?", Seungcheol smirked.

"Kind of. Jeonghan said to see how you would react if I wear the dress.", you explained shyly.

"Oh, I will react. I will react very well.", his voice turned huskier as he cupped your clothed breast and took one in his mouth. With the material still in between his tongue and your breast, it created a delicious friction that made you grind your hips more.

"Fuck I will go crazy. You are so responsive baby.", He whispered against your skin as he unhooked the bra.

"Seungcheol...", you moaned.

"What is it darling?"

"Please Seungcheol.", you had no idea what you were begging for.

"What do you want?", he smirked as he picked you up and threw you on the bed before hovering over you.

"Take it off please. Take your shirt off.", you begged.

Seungcheol delivered. He stood on his knees and in a painfully slow pace, unbuttoned his shirt before throwing it aside. You were welcomed with his toned chest. You audibly moaned and that seemed to boast Seungcheol's ego.

"Loving the view?", he teased

"Of course.", you said as you did a come-hither motion to which he complied.

He dipped his head and trailed kisses down your chest. Starting from your neck, he marked every inch of your skin as you writhed under him. With an agonizing slow pace his mouth finally hovered over your core, which earned a moan from you.

"Please. Seungcheol, please.", you moaned.

"Patience baby.", Seungcheol chuckled and finally teased your core with his tongue which slowly turned into more aggressive licks as he devoured you. All you could do was moan and writhe which also got restricted when he used his left hand to hold your hips down with one strong grip.

Soon you were coming undone on his tongue, as your body shook and all you could do was moan his name.

"I love when you moan my name.", Seungcheol said as he looked at you, his chin glistening with your juices which made you even more aroused.

Suddenly you sat up and pushed him down on bed, before unbuckling his belt and rubbing his throbbing member over the fabric of his underwear. He let out a guttural moan and you smirked in victory. Having such a big strong man moan under you felt so good that you almost got wet again.

"Don't tease me love.", Seungcheol groaned and who were you to deny him.

You quickly dragged his pants and underwear down in one go and his dick sprang up, standing proud and thick.

"Fuck you are big.", you moaned as you moved your palm up and down the length before giving the tip kitten licks.

You took his whole dick in and bobbed your head while consecutively using your hand to create more friction. Seungcheol's fingers went through your hair before gripping it tight to control the bobbing of your head, fucking your mouth deep. Your eyes glistened with tears as you moaned at the feeling of being used by him.

"Fuck baby. You take me so well.", moaned Seungcheol before picking you up in one go and throwing you on the bed again.

"So wet from just sucking me?", Seungcheol teased before sinking two of his fingers in.

"Seungcheol, please fuck me. I don't need your fingers right now.", you moaned and Seungcheol obliged.

"I-I don't have condoms.", Seungcheol confessed shyly.

"It's okay. I am on birth control and clean.", you said to which he simply smiled and kissed you.

"I am also clean so, can I?", he asked and you nodded.

Lining his dick to your core, he slowly sunk in, giving you time to adjust.

"Fuck you are so tight.", he groaned, his eyebrows furrowing as he let out a disgruntled sigh.

"Seungcheol...", you moaned his name as you supported yourself by holding his biceps.

"Keep saying my name. Let everyone know who is fucking you right.", Seungcheol demanded and you moaned his name loud.

"Cheol fuck.", you whispered as you moaned and groaned.

"That's it. Baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock. Cream me fuck.", Seungcheol whimpered as he kept his pace steady and firm.

Within seconds you were reaching your high again as you creamed his cock. Seungcheol pace didn't slow as he kept pounding into you, making a mess out of you. Your juices were everywhere as sweat formed on your forehead. Seungcheol dipped his head, as your foreheads were against each other and whispered, "I am gonna cum baby."

"Then cum Cheol. Cum inside me. Fill me up.", you said in a lust laden voice and that was Seungcheol's undoing as he came inside you.

!!SMUT ENDS HERE!!

After catching his breath, he lied down beside you for a bit before getting up to bring a warm water-soaked towel to clean you and then clean himself. After showering, you wore Seungcheol's shirt and lied down on the soft bed. Seungcheol joined you as he pulled your back against his chest and nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

"I love you.", he whispered and your heart melted.

"I love you too Cheollie.", you smiled as he giggled.

Then Seungcheol started laughing as you turned your head and gave him a questioning look.

"We are idiots, aren't we?", he giggled and you laughed along with him.

"You know what I am thinking?", you said.

"What?", asked Seungcheol.

"Haewon's face when she sees us hand in hand in the morning.", you smirked and Seungcheol gave a hearty laugh.

"You are a menace my love.", he teased and then you both dozed off.

______________________________________________________________

Author's note: First of all, ignore any sort of typos or grammatical mistakes. I am still trying to get a hang of this app as I have never made such long posts on this app before. Now, I love best friends to lovers trope so much and hence I really wanted to write this. I dreamed about this plot and I needed to write it down. I hope everyone enjoys it.

[quantomeno]

This reminds me of a story:

When I was a kid my family and I went to Thailand for a holiday and for whatever reason I decided to bring the DS lite (I say 'the' DS lite because at this point my siblings and I each had our own DSis but the DS lite was shared because we had an R4 card which only worked on it, so we would all use it to play the games only on it, and this is probably why I chose to bring it specifically rather than my DSi). I didn't use it much (because, well, why would you play video games when you can swim in the pool? I still kick myself for bringing it to Thailand because it was so pointless but I was a kid and it seemed like a good idea to have something to play if I got bored for whatever reason).

On the way home, for whatever reason some security woman at the Thai airport opened up my luggage and was poking around in it (I don't know if it was just some random search or what but I think it was just random) and she takes out my DS and looks at it. But the thing is, she's wearing like disposable gloves and the DS lite has a glossy exterior. It's slippery already and with the gloves it'd be worse and the device slips out of her hands and hits the hard airport floor. We get a bit 'oh, hey!' with her and she's clearly embarrassed and stuff and we just pack up the suitcase again and move on (it was kind of funny in that the search ended so quickly because it didn't seem she was done yet, but I think she wanted it to be over after that kerfuffle). Anyway, checking it later, the DS was broken on the right side, at the hinge bit, but it was just the plastic bit around the hinge that held it in place. So it was a little loose, but it was still held in place.

So OK, no big deal.

But as time wore on, it got looser and looser, until the screen would go kind of red if you moved it too much. But it was OK, if you just jiggled it a bit eventually it'd sort itself out.

But then as time wore on further, it got worse and worse and worse. Now it's permanently red.

Which was a shame, because of the R4 thing. We had a number of games only on there.

But then one day we found a second hand DS lite in an op shop and so we bought it. And that one worked pretty well, except its microphone was broken.

OK not many games use the microphone, right? But one of the games we really loved on the R4 was Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, and in the final case you have the ability to test for fingerprints, which requires you to blow away the dust. Which would be ok because normally you can just exit the fingerprint test thing, save, move the R4 to the old DS and then use that one's microphone (and just deal with the bad screen for that moment), save after that and return to the better DS.

But the thing is the first time you do it, there's a tutorial you can't skip or exit, so you can't do this and my younger sibling had to restart the game from quite a while back (and I had to replay the sections up to that point for them) and yeah. It was bad enough to consider getting another DS lite.

Also WarrioWare Touched uses the microphone and we had that on the R4 too.

(Hotel Dusk: Room 215 also allows you to use the mic and we had it on the R4, and I got to the point in the game where you can use it and I was like no... I can't do this puzzle. But then I tapped the screen instead and I realised the mic is a red herring and it actually makes you fail the puzzle so yeah, it actually wasn't needed)

Anyway, so we bought a third DS lite online. This one works fully.

We also wanted to see if we could swap the microphones of the old ones to get an extra fully functional DS, but it seemed like it'd be too hard.

The other DSes we own are all in good nick and we are ultra careful with them now. There is a bit of poor connections or whatever on the LR buttons with some, and the volume switch of the 2nd DS Lite was also dodgy, and our 3DS' coating is peeling and the circle pad's rubber thing came off, but in terms of serious, game-ruining damage, they're fine.

Anyway, moral of the story is don't take your DS overseas.

if multiple parts are broken just click the first one you noticed!

[dear-aubade]

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

[sylver-star]

hi your writing is so cute!! could you please please please write getting married w vernon?? thank you! can't wait to see how this turns out!

❝ Like Fate ❞ - Chwe Vernon x reader

a/n: thank you! i have a hard time picturing how vernon would have a wedding, so i decided to just write a quiet moment between them

genre: blurb, fluff, established relationship, marriage word count: 722 warnings: mentions of alcohol rating: PG / SFW

Disclaimer: My works are fictional and do not reflect real-life situations, cultures, or individuals. All characters are purely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Embarrassing childhood photos had been shown, speeches had been delivered, and now the venue was filled with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic pulse of music. The celebratory atmosphere had gradually turned into a lively frenzy, with most people dancing, drinks in hand, and everyone letting loose. But as the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more tired, the excitement of the day catching up with you.

Vernon, ever the attentive husband, had noticed the subtle shift in your demeanor. After offering a quiet, understanding glance, he gently led you away from the crowd, guiding you to a small, tucked-away corner where the noise seemed a little more distant. It was a cozy, intimate nook in the venue, a small space with dim lighting and a few scattered chairs. Despite the venue’s modest size, it felt like everything you’d ever wanted for this moment—a simple, private space to catch your breath.

Now, seated on a low window sill, you leaned your head against Vernon’s shoulder, savoring the peaceful stillness for a moment. Your dress, which had seemed so pristine hours ago, now hung a little limp with the weight of the evening, but you didn’t mind. Everything had been beautiful: the ceremony, the speeches, the way Vernon had looked at you when you said your vows. It was all more than you could have hoped for.

But as the noise from the party reached a crescendo and you felt the tug of exhaustion pulling at you, you let out a soft sigh. “Today was really nice,” you said quietly, almost as if to yourself. “Even if I was shaky during the ceremony, it was very nice.”

Vernon turned his head slightly to look at you. His eyes were warm, filled with affection, and when he spoke, his voice was steady and reassuring. “You weren’t shaky,” he said firmly. “You were perfect. You are perfect.”

You smiled faintly, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a gentle halo around his face. The room around you seemed to blur and spin, but you weren’t sure if it was from the couple of drinks you’d had or if it was simply because Vernon had a way of making you feel like you were floating in some dreamlike state, completely consumed by love. Maybe it was both.

“You make me perfect,” you replied, your voice light, playful, yet filled with sincerity.

Normally, you’d both laugh your asses off at how cheesy that sounded, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the quiet, intimate setting, or maybe it was the sheer joy of the moment, but neither of you could hold back the goofy smiles that tugged at your lips. There was something undeniably sweet about this quiet corner, this rare space where it was just the two of you, sharing something that was uniquely yours. You glanced down at your hands, now intertwined, and you couldn’t help but trace the smooth, cool surface of the wedding band on your finger, still unfamiliar, but infinitely precious.

“I can’t believe that we’re married,” you murmured, your voice soft as if saying it aloud would make it even more real.

Vernon hummed in agreement, his fingers gently squeezing yours. From somewhere in the background, you could hear someone—Soonyoung, you thought, though you couldn’t be sure—belting out the lyrics to one of your favorite songs. The music was a distant backdrop to the calm stillness between you and Vernon. His thumb stroked the back of your hand absentmindedly, his focus entirely on you.

“I don’t think I could be happier,” Vernon said quietly, his voice full of warmth and certainty. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, lingering there just for a moment. “Like, this was meant to be or something.”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “You believe in fate?” you asked, half teasing, half curious.

Vernon paused, his lips quirking into a thoughtful smile as he gave it a moment of consideration. His expression shifted playfully as he wrinkled his nose slightly, as if trying to decide how seriously he should take the question. Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, he broke into a grin so wide it made your heart flutter. “With you?” he said. “Absolutely.”

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ cinderella!reader and her besties discuss their opinions on the football team at lunch

note: this is not proofread!!! i wanted to introduce some of readers’s friendship group and give matt more of a mention into this au hehe :)

asks for this au are always open! find all popular!chris and cinderella!reader writings here and everything else for them here

the cafeteria had buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos but it was finally starting to die down.

you were sat in your usual corner table with your three best friends, halfway through your lunches when suddenly the door to the cafeteria door bangs open, and a group of football players stroll in like they own the place.

they stroll in, tossing a football over the head of innocent students just trying to eat their lunches, laughing and joking loudly with one another, everyone making room for them as they make their way over to their usual table by the windows.

one of your friends breaks the silence at your table, “they think they’re so untouchable, like they’re so above everyone else, don’t they?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“i don’t get it, it’s like they don’t know how to be normal, everything is so over the top and loud with them” your other friend says, giving her opinion.

you shift in your seat, “they come in the diner after every practice a lot, they’re exactly the same as they are in here” you add. “some of them are kinda nice though, sometimes”

your first friend rolls her eyes, obviously not believing your last comment. “i couldn’t stand being popular like that, you know, like the way everyone talks about them and their business”

your other friend’s eyes widen and she bangs her hand on the table with excitement, like she’d forgotten to tell you all something. “oh my god” she whispers, “that reminds me, in maths this morning, everyone’s talking about how at some party over the weekend, matt sturniolo hooked up with one of the cheerleaders from the rival team were playing next week, but apparently, her boyfriend is the captain of the team. we should go to the game just to see the drama of it all unfold.”

you groan, a little disgusted by the team’s antics and her idea of going to a football game, you were kind of used to hearing them brag in the diner about things like this that they did but then your friend who hadn’t added anything yet to the conversation, usually the quieter of your group chimes in, “i think matt’s hot, is that bad?” she whispers to you all like she’s confessing something forbidden.

you and your other friends all look at each other then back to her, “wait, you think matt is hot?” your first friend who initiated the conversation says, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. “i think nate’s the hottest, we sit next to each other in biology and he’s kinda chill i guess, chris is hot too but his ex girlfriend scares me, actually, the whole cheer team scare me.”

“how do you think i feel?” you say with a nervous laugh, “i have to serve them all in the diner, she gives me daggers when i hand chris his pancakes or a milkshake like she thinks i’m going to steal him off of her.”

“little does she know, you’re not interested in her precious football captain cause you have your own secret little lover” your friend teases you, poking you over the table. “which speaking of, are you any closer to knowing who he is?”

you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but inside you’re torn. “i really don’t know.”

she grins at you, “isn’t it crazy that he could be literally anyone. he could be on the maths team, in the music club..” she whispers, looking over her shoulder to the window where the football team were sat and quickly turning back to you, “fuck, he could even be one of them, and you’ll never know if you don’t go and meet him at this party on friday.”

you laugh nervously, trying to brush the conversation off. your best friends innocent question causing a feeling of anxiety to bubble up in your chest.

you swallow down hard, trying to steady your breathing, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“do you even want to know who he is?” she adds, staring at you, waiting for an answer, one you didn’t have for her.

you didn’t know, you had no idea.

and for the first time, you realise how terrified you are of the truth.

[toomanyfanficsbruh]

Hello!! Happy New Year!!

My God, I am so sorry it took so long. And it's not even fully finished 😭😭

Here you go, something better than nothing xx

Queen Of England

It was often on calm days, that something happened. And as normal, something happened.

Merlin and Gwen were walking back from their weekly Taco Tuesday meet ups - it kept them full and up to date with the other's lives.

At this time of the year, both of them were busy with work. Gwen with her new designs for Vogue and Merlin with his piling stack of assignments to mark. The both of them nearly almost never had time to talk to eachotner. Insert, Taco Tuesdays. The best idea since sliced bread and pull-out sofas.

On the way back to Gwen's apartment, she gasped loudly at her phone, "No. Way. Oh My God. Holy Fishsticks."

Merlin leaned over her shoulder to look at her phone. Damn the privacy protection screen that she used. Smart, but quite annoying when trying to snoop. "You're fake swearing again. This must be bad, what happened?"

"I just got swiped on by The Arthur Pendragon."

"Who?"

"Merlin! You know! The actor??" Gwen turned the phone around to Merlin, who was face to face with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Surely that was fake.

"Gwen! No I don't! Who?"

"Gah. Your sarcasm isn't really helping right now."

"And neither are your descriptions. Wait, let me do some research." It took Merlin all of 2 minutes to find the guy and all of 8 minutes for it to register that it was That Guy.

"You've gotta be kidding me Gwen, that's gotta be a fucking catfish."

"Ah! Swear Jar!"

"No seriously. You are drop down gorgeous. I love you to bits. But why on earth would this stuck up prick be on Tinder?! Doesn't he have enough actresses to be putting his hands all over?"

They stopped at Gwen's door, "Hmm. You make a good point. The real Arthur Pendragon would never text me."

"Excuse me? No, you are gorgeous, didn't I just say this?" Merlin tapped his chin in a moment if thought, before look at Gwen again. "But you know what would be fun?"

"I know that twinkle of mischief anywhere. And I know it's not going to end well. What is it?"

"How about…we mess with him a little…"

"Oh no."

So, in a moment of frenzy and bad argument, Merlin walked back to his apartment with Gwen's Tinder account password and a plan up his sleeve. Gwen called it Reverse Catfishing. Merlin said it was giving the guy a taste of his own medicine. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to end well.

Merlin was in the middle of reading a student's essay when he recieved a message from the so-called actor.

Arthur: If you were the letters of the alphabet, you would be A Q T.

This guy used proper sentences and grammar in his pick up lines. Merlin would have been fooled if it wasn't for the horrendous line that he'd chosen.

Gwen: is that from a book of 1001 pick up lines because that was horrible

Arthur: If you were a fruit, you'd be a Cute-cumber.

Gwen: no, I'd be a Fine-Apple.

The typing bubbles went away after a moment and Merlin went back to his marking, assuming he had scared the catfish away. Surely, nobody with common sense would start off with such a bad pick up line. There were many many others that could've been used.

Arthur: I can't say I'd disagree with that.

Gwen: left you speechless have i?

Arthur: You left me speechless when I first saw you, much less now. Seems that I can't function at all with you around.

Gwen: then leave?

Merlin felt the rejection in that reply. He also felt a little bad.

Gwen: I mean. don't leave. but like, get a speech therapist?

Merlin hit his head, not only did he reject the guy, he also had the shittiest response. Poor dude.

Arthur: Maybe I wouldn't be stuttering when I meet you then. Do you know a good speech therapist?

Gwen: if you're so ultra famous shouldn't you know one?

Arthur: Most speech therapists on set are for accents, not really for what we're talking about.

Gwen: yea right. "on set" keep up the facade and I might believe you.

Arthur: sent photo

Merlin was almost scared to open the photo, lest it was something that should not be shown to the common eye. He clicked on it while squinting, only to find the most boring thing.

Gwen: which website did you find the movie set off of?

Arthur: I'm on the set right now?

Gwen: and I'm the Queen of England

Arthur: Your Majesty?

Gwen: do you understand the word sarcasm

Arthur: Do you know how to use grammar?

Gwen: touchè

It was going to be a long night.

It had been a week. A week since Gwen had given Merlin her Tinder account details. To be honest, Gwen wasn't too fussed about it anymore, it seemed like Merlin was having much more fun with it.

Instead, over the course of the week, Gwen had gone out with a workmate, Lancelot, who was equally nice and silly and someone she knew wasn't a catfish. He was wonderful and exactly what she was looking for. Only now, she had to introduce him to Merlin. Which was the hard part.

She had tried the next Tuesday they met for Tacos, but he was so engrossed in his phone that she may as well have left and gone to bed. Whoever it was, Merlin was obsessed. And she told him as such.

"Me? Obsessed? I think you're going crazy Guinevere."

"If I'm so crazy, put down the phone Merlin."

"But we're in the middle of a conversation!"

Gwen cocked an eyebrow and threw on, what was known as, The Mother Face. Gwaine and Percival were terrified of it, Merlin knew not to get Gwen to that stage of annoyance. Well, every other time but now. Now, Merlin was fucked. (Ah, Swear Jar!)

"If that conversation is so important, then I'll go home and we can Taco Tuesday next week. Is that what you want?"

"No…?" Merlin shook his head and turned the phone screen down. "I'm so sorry Gwen, I never meant for it to get this far. It's just that…"

Gwen put her hand on his arm, beckoning him to continue talking. A soft gesture amongst the people hurrying to get their tacos.

"It's just that?"

"That, I didn't expect this guy to be so…down to earth? You'd expect a celebrity to be pompous and a tight ass, but he's not? Or at least, he doesn't seem to be that way?"

"And you believe that it's The Arthur Pendragon?"

"Gwen, he sent a picture of his birth certificate. This guy has absolutely no idea about hackers and the internet and normal people things. He's adorable." Merlin had a glint of care in his eyes, something sparkling. Something Gwen hadn't seen in a long time.

The last she had seen him this flustered was with a girl called Freya, but she had to move cities to look after her mother. She was lovely and Merlin was nearly heartbroken. The only thing that kept him from crying was Gwaine who took him out drinking every second night. Safe to say, neither of them did that again, after the reaction Gwen had when Merlin got alcohol poisoning.

"Oh yeah?" Gwen tilted her head and gave Merlin a slight smirk to show her amusement. He didn't notice.

"Yeah. He nearly gave me his social security number, it was hilarious. He knows bad puns and pick up lines to a tee and he's never seen Tangled." Merlin took a deep breath, "Gwen, I think we need to come clean."

Gwen nearly choked on her taco, "We? I think you mean, you. You need to come clean. I did nothing! I'm innocent!"

"And I'm the Queen of England."

"Right. You keep this up, Your Majesty, and you'll never get to meet the new dude who took your best friend out on a date ."

"You would never hide such a thing from me!"

"And you wouldn't look good in a gown, nice to know we agree on something."

Merlin took a bite out of his Taco, "Excuse you, I think I'd look magnificent in a gown!"

Gwen paused for a moment, thinking, the cogs in her brain started turning again, "Actually, with a cinched waist, petal sleeves and maybe a deep wine brocade… I think we could make it work!!"

Arthur Pendragon has never been left waiting. He has never been stood up and he has never in his life, had to wait for a date.

Today was the first time it happened. Arthur was not impressed.

Recently, he hadn't really been too impressed by much. His films had upsettingly bad scripts, his co-stars were not at all nice people and his father was breathing down his back almost every minute of the day.

The only time he had been able to breathe was when he was texting Gwen. She seemed lovely, although more of Morgana's type, but she had the breath of fresh air Arthur needed.

His particularly favourite conversation that he'd had with her, was about the new adaptation film he was starring in - A Farewell To Arms, by Hemingway. Arthur mentioned that he'd never read it before and almost got blocked. Gwen said that it was a favourite of hers and a literary masterpiece.

Arthur had read it in one night.

Even if he didn't necessarily agree with it being a masterpiece to the literary world, he did enjoy it. After reading it, he hated the adaptation script even more.

Now, he was left waiting in a cafe, looking for the woman who had made his days much brighter than they had been. He was close to telling Morgana that the Tinder plan, actually, wasn't the worst thing to happen.

Gwen said she'd be wearing a green shirt (emerald to be exact) and to keep an eye out. Arthur was definitely keeping an eye out.

It took 25 minutes before he saw her walk through the door and almost got up to greet her, until he realised she was wearing purple.

Now, Arthur might not know many things, but he knew that green and purple weren't the same colour. They were opposites on the colour wheel! That was a fun fact he kept in his pocket for trivia nights.

Other than that, the waiting, caffeine-less morning and now the colour change, did not sit well with Arthur at all. He was already prone to outbursts, he didn't want to mess this up.

Gwen saw him and walked over with a coffee and a chocolate slice in her hand, "Arthur Pendragon. Wow, it is a sight to see you in real life."

"And you… Are not wearing green."

"Was I meant to? Is there an issue with me wearing purple that I wasn't aware of?"

"No!"

"Right. Well."

An awkward silence fell over them, unlike what Arthur was used to when talking to her.

"Well. I spoke with my director about the scripting for A Farewell To Arms,and he said he'd change some of the lines to make it more natural to the time period." A small smile crept over Arthur’s face.

"A Farewell To Arms? Well, I'm glad it's more natural, but I really couldn't care less about Hemingway."

"I thought you said it was a literary masterpiece?"

"Not at all, Mr Pendragon. Hemingway sits in my bookshelf, getting cobwebs with how little I read it."

"And now you'll tell me you think my pickup lines are good."

"And I'm not sure what you mean by that." Gwen set her cup and plate down.

"I mean, that you're not at all what you seem to say you are. And what a great pity at that, because life isn't completely about good looks Guinevere! You need to be authentic to yourself. It's one thing to lie over an app but another to completely change your personality, and for what? You got swiped on by a celebrity? So? Forgot you're a person with your own opinions?"

Arthur wasn't entirely sure when he stood up or began raising his voice, but he was shocked by the additional presence in the conversation.

"And if you didn't have a stick up your ass, you'd know that you're falling into the common form of hypocrisy. Don't act like you don't fucking change your opinions for interviews and then over a dumb app!"

Arthur saw Gwen put an arm out to the additional voice, probably to calm it down. He needed one of those right now actually.

And to make matters worse, Arthur turned around to give the conversation intruder a piece of his mind and realised three important things.

The conversation intruder had the most vibrantly deep blue eyes. The words on Arthur's lips retreated back to the locker he had been trained to never open. Maybe this time, these eyes would hold the code and keep it closed.

The conversation intruder had a point. And that was bad. Because that meant Arthur was wrong. And that was a slim to none chance in any situation. And Arthur didn't hate it. Hmm.

The conversation intruder was wearing a green shirt. Emerald green to be exact.

"And you, must be Gwen." Arthur turned on his bright, Camera smile and was met with the most uninterested face, coupled with the gorgeous blue eyes. Arthur was done for.

"Do I look like the Queen of England?"

Arthur might have just fallen to the ground with that response, if he wasn't gripping the table like his life depended on it. Not only was this conversation intruder the handsomest person he laid eyes on, he was also the person Arthur had been thinking of for the past 3 months. This man was the reason for Arthur’s sleepless nights and calm days, the crux of his laughter and somehow also the most annoying thing that had ever happened to him.

Arthur did not know how to react.

"Your Majesty." Arthur had actually bowed. He didn't think he'd do that, but he also didn't believe in Love at First Sight and well, there's a first time for everything.

Gwen looked between the two men, intrigued, confused and held in a chuckle because what on earth was happening right now. The Arthur Pendragon, actor and millionaire, just bowed to her best friend, Merlin Emrys, humanities professor. Things like this didn't happen everyday. Things like this just didn't happen, at all.

She whispered a quick goodbye to her friend and walked to a table near the back, where Lancelot was waiting. Maybe, it wouldn't end so badly.

Let me know if you want the conversation between Arthur and Merlin, because really, this is such a sad ending from my end. I can do better, I promise lol.

I can't believe I didn't die from the second hand embarrassment.

Catfish au

Gwen gets a random text on her tinder Account by one Arthur Pendragon.

Gwen: it can't be real. THE Arthur Pendragon would never text me!!!

Merlin: I disagree. You're georgous. But you're probably right, it's a catfish

Merlin: you know what would be funny?

Gwen: oh no

Merlin: let me text with him. I'll pretend I'm you. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

That's how it begins...

...

Only that Arthur wasn't a catfish

Bonus: reveal

Merlin: this is so embarrassing, but erm... I catfished you *starts to ramble about the original situation*

Arthur: *not listening and supposed to be angry.* you're hot???!?

Merlin: what?

Arthur: *internal crisis* what?!