#and getting nothing out of it but a headache

[sahrii]

SORRY xo | K. Tsukishima

synopsis; he says somethings he didn’t mean, and he apologises in his signature tsukki way.

word count; 1482

warnings; hurt to comfort, no prns mentioned for reader, a lot of tension i guess, finished at 12am thanks.

“—and then I told her that I—“ you stop mid sentence when you realise he might not be listening. “Are you even listening to me?” You question, narrowing your eyes at him as the grip around the steaming hot mug in your hands tightens a little.

The room was dimly lit by a feeble light, and nothing other than the soft hum of the television causing minuscule vibrations in the drums of your ears can be heard.

Tsukishima’s head was lolling back against the cushions, arms limply sprawling over the sides. His eyes were tightly shut in an attempt to block any spec of light from making its way into his retina.

“Hm?” he questioned, turning his head a little. The question was, however, laced with an unspoken tone of annoyance that made the hairs on your skin stand like saluting soldiers. “I’m so tired, can we have this talk later?”

He is tired. His body is aching from the amount of times he’s jumped today. His head feels slightly wobbly on his shoulders. He doesn’t want to talk because he thinks he will say something wrong. He knows he will say something wrong, and mess this up.

You blink at him. Your mouth grows a mind of its own. “You’re always tired,” You say before you realise it, while placing the mug on the coffee table that is slightly coated with a thin layer of dust. “Shit, sorry I didn’t—“

“Well, sorry, I have a fucking life,” he muttered with a taunting voice, lips pressed into a slight frown that had a hint of exasperation tattooed into the delicate creases on his lips. He wished he didn’t say that. He wanted someone to slap him in the face.

The previous hum of the television dissipated into nothingness, your pupils widening by the words spilling out of his lips. “What?”

“You heard me, sorry I have dreams I’m chasing,”

“You’re not being serious, are you,” you replied. Was he implying that you’re a good-for-nothing with no goals in life? You gulped, heart skipping a several beat.

“I am. I’m tired of this, it’s becoming a lot to deal with,” he replied. His fingers went up to his temples, rubbing them in small half-soothing circles in a sad attempt to quell the throbbing headache evolving behinds his eyes.

Your mind reeled, the word tired echoing across your lobes in a manner that created a distorted symphony of confusion and disbelief from within.

“So listening to your partner talking is a chore now? Emphasis on the partner that has no life or dreams to chase.”

“I didn’t mean that—“

“You said it though,” you replied, voice faltering a little with an overwhelming sense of suffocation submerging every cell in your body. You clenched and unclenched your fists in an attempt to calm your nerves.

“I just need a few minutes of silence, I fucking came from a match, okay? I’m tired and this is not too much to ask for,” he bit back.

Saying this doesn’t feel right, he thought. Saying this might have been a mistake, he thought again. Because lying is bad. He loved hearing your voice. It’s what kept him going, the contagious hum of your voice, the way it trembled with anticipation, the giggle he’d like to store in a bottle and get drunk over every single day. Lying is bad. He was lying.

Silence laced itself, it’s thin threads tangling around the both of you. Your eyes were wide open, pupils dilating with hurt. Your cheeks flushed—a hint of embarrassment tattooing itself on you.

Embarrassment mixed with disbelief.

“Okay, so next time I won’t ever speak unless you ask me to, does that work for you? I will book an appointment to speak with you, actually,” you cut through the silence, voice growing louder. It had a slight tremble to it—one he could only hear. One he’d recognise even if he heard your voice from across the seven oceans.

“That’s not what I’m saying—“

“Oh, so tell me what you’re saying, because it sounds to me like you just don’t care,”

“I do care, I’m just exhausted and I don’t want to have a conversation I don’t want to have.” As soon as these words spilled out of his mouth, regret hit him like a tidal wave. A cold hand clutched his beating heart as he saw the colour drain from your face.

“…a conversation you don’t want to have…?” You questioned, brows furrowing in hurt, the question leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No wait—that’s not—“

“No it’s okay, I’ll stop talking then, you don’t have to waste your precious energy on me, or listen to convos you don’t want to have” you stood up, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Everything else he said has dissipated into background noise as you focused on the ringing of your ears.

You rush in hurried steps into your shared bedroom and slam the door hard enough for the sound to echo throughout the walls of your small apartment. Tonight, you fell asleep with caged sobs, a tear-soaked pillow and a heavy feeling chaining around your heart, suffocating your every breath.

The clock ticked 4.56pm.

With every tick, with every time a hand moves, you are reminded of the argument you’ve had with him last night. It’s 4.57pm and you’ve been on bed all day, arms sprawled in a chaotic manner, pillow soaked with tears, hair tangled in a mess you might never be able to detangle, and a slightly dry throat.

You wonder where it all went wrong. You wonder if the words he’d uttered had a hint of truth to them. You wonder if he had thought about what he said in the past 12 hours.

You decided to finally give the bed a break and get up. With a heavy heart, you slowly lifted yourself off of the soft mattress, the soles of your feet making contact with the cold wooden floor, sending a shiver down the small of your back.

Truthfully, you expected the place to be a mess. But as soon as you stepped foot into the leaving room, each step once again leaving a trail of chills down your back, your nostrils were engulfed by the warm smell of salted caramel and morning coffee.

Your eyes trailed around, the previously visible coat of dust on the coffee table has been wiped into nothingness, the couch was dusted and cushions placed in a way that scratched your brain, floors so clean you can practically see a reflection of your dishevelled hair on them.

But what caught your eyes the most was the small basket sitting still on the same couch. You step closer, your curiosity getting the best of you. A woven basket with flowers, a mug, a vanilla scented candle, and a few other stuff. A card. You pick up the card, a silly smile etched into your lips.

TO Y/N

I’M VERY SORRY ABOUT WHAT I SAID YESTERDAY. I DIDN’T MEAN ANY OF IT, IT’S NOT AN EXCUSE BUT I WAS TIRED AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TOOK OVER ME. I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT I REALLY ENJOY LISTENING TO YOU. I LIKE YOUR VOICE, IDIOT. I LOVE YOU AND I’M SORRY.

—TSUKISHIMA KEI.

The sound of rustling pans filled your ears, catching your attention. You rushed into the kitchen, only to be welcomed by your boyfriend, with your pink cooking apron, and a frown that screams confusion chiselled on his lips as his eyes read over what seems like a recipe book.

“What are you doing?” Your voice startled him, causing him to drop one of the pans he was holding in his hands.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” he muttered, leaning down to pick up the pan.

“I think that’s deserved,” you smiled as you make your way to him in a jolly manner, yesterday’s conversation seeming to have disappeared from your head.

“Maybe,” he replied, setting the pan on the countertop. His hand made its way to his neck, an attempt to rub the nervousness away. You stare at him, waiting for him to spill what he’s about to say. “Will—will you continue telling me what you told that woman,” he mumbled, a faint blush sprawling on the apples of his cheeks.

You eyed him with confusion and a furrowed brow. Until you realise what he meant. A grin made its way to your lips as you stepped closer, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"I’m glad you asked," you replied, a warm smile on your lips as you launched into a detailed recounting of yesterday's events.

The intimacy of the moment, the shared space of your kitchen, the rhythmic clinking of pots and pans as he (cluelessly) cooked, and the easy flow of your conversation, all combined to create a sense of comfortable ease.

thank u @heartmaddie and @chlosology for beta reading ily guys

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?

My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷

Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.

It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.

You had returned empty-handed.

"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.

"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"

"Yeah."

He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.

In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.

"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.

"Bad day."

"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"

You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."

Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.

"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."

"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.

His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."

"Why are you attracted to me?"

Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"Why me over some model or something?"

He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"

"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."

There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.

"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."

You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.

"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."

You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.

"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."

"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.

"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."

You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.

"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"

You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."

Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"

"But I love you!"

"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."

The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."

"Quinn~"

"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."

"You make me smile."

He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."

You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."

[nakylvr]

MISSED YOU (FINAL)

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the repercussions of your actions, you try your absolute best to fix everything.

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort(?), happy ending (yay!), dealer!dani au, language

wc: 3,5 k

part 1 | part 2

you woke up to knocking on the door. lifting your head from the bed, you immediately felt your head pounding with a headache, making you groan quietly as you got up and left the bedroom. walking to the front door, you peer through the peephole and let out a sigh of relief to see manon.

you unlock and open the door, being met with the taller woman who was holding a convenience store bag in her hand. 

“did you sleep?” manon questions, taking notice of the dark bags under your eyes mixed with the tear stain marks on your cheeks.

“a little.” you shrug, opening the door wider and walking further inside. 

“better than nothing,” manon replies, walking in and shutting the door behind her. she follows you to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table as you sit on the couch and curl up into a ball in the corner. “here,” she rummages through the bag before pulling out two cans. “i didn't know if you'd want the redbull or the coffee, so.” she holds both of them in front of you. 

“thanks,” you mumble, taking the energy drink from her hand and opening it. 

a silence fills the apartment again, one that lasts a while before you finally manage to speak up. 

“i don't know how to fix this,” you say quietly, making manon look over at you. “i doubt she wants to see me right now, or ever again.” you look down at the drink in your hand, finger spinning around the rim of the can. “i should’ve listened to her, then none of this would've happened.” 

“it's okay,” manon says. “i mean, it's not, obviously, but it’ll be fine. you can't say that she probably doesn't want to see you, because we both know that she always wants to see you. whenever you're not around you are literally the only thing she talks about, and with what you told me about your last conversation, she probably thinks sophia forced you to do it – which she did, so i don't think she's mad at you exactly. if she is, i’d be surprised.” she pauses for a moment. “you have to just do it. get her out, and then you can talk it out. you can figure the rest out as you go.” 

“yeah,” you murmur, still looking at the can in your hands. 

“yn,” manon grabs one of your hands making you finally look at her. “i’ve known dani for years, she isn't going to be mad at you. when i say you are the only person she talks about, i mean literally you are the only person she cares about. i’ve seen her go through girls so fast that when she started talking about you i felt bad. i thought ‘well, there's another poor girl to add to her list’. but she said you were different. so i tried to believe her. now, i’m going to be honest with you here, okay? because i love and care about both of you very much, and i want you two to fix this, okay?” she stops, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “dani has said multiple times to multiple girls that they're different. so when she said it about you my first reaction was how you were going to get hurt. but things started changing, dani started changing. and that has never happened. you know dani is a pretty independent person, and what she does has her that way because of shit that's happened in the past, but to see her changing – changing for the better? i knew she was right about you.”

“not one other girl has even been able to remotely change one thing about dani,” manon continues. “she always kept them at a distance, she never let them get too close. and the day she told me she took you with her to one of the deals? something that she never let anyone do? i knew she seriously loved you. when she said that you insisted on going with her, she told me that she hesitated. but not for the same reason it usually was. she wanted to protect you. she always wants to protect you, yn. but she lets you come with. she trusts you with the money. she trusts you with certain clients. she trusts you. she loves you. no one else. i don't know why she did what she did, but i know she regrets it. you are the best thing that's ever happened to her, and i don't want this to fuck it up for you two. i can't tell you what to do, but i will support whatever decision you make, okay?” 

listening to everything manon said, you slowly nod your head while taking in all of it. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you could feel them threatening to spill, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling. “i ju-st want to fix this,” your voice cracks as you speak. “i love her so much.”

“i know you do,” manon is quick to reply, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around your shaking frame. “and i know she loves you just as much. you just have to tell her. you have to talk this out, and you have to tell her about what happened last night.” 

you physically tense up at her last words, the memories of the night before flooding your mind as you put your hands into fists to keep them from shaking so much. “i can't– she’ll really hate me then,” you reply, shaking your head. 

“you have to, yn,” manon tells you. “i know you don't want to, but you have to.” 

a few tears fall from your eyes, but you slowly nod your head, knowing it was the truth. it could make matters worse or it could improve them, but you had no idea how to even go about it. “can you– can you come with me to the sheriff's station? i already have the bail money in a bag, i-i just don't want to go alone right now,” you speak quietly, more tears trailing down your cheeks. 

“of course,” manon replies with a nod. “has sophia tried reaching you?” 

“there was texts and calls for the first couple of hours, but i think she gave up,” you answer with a shrug. “i read a few of them…” your voice goes quiet again.

“bad?” manon questions, judging by the tone in your voice when you said it.

“yeah.” you nod. 

“ignore them,” manon tells you sternly. “you don't need to be seeing her lash out on you because of something terrible she did. you didn't do anything wrong, okay? you don't deserve any of what's happened to you in these months, and it's not your fault for going to the person you thought would keep you safe. but this means you have to fix things with dani. if all else fails, then you can stay with me for some time, okay? you’ll always have a place to stay with me.” she rubs your back reassuringly.

“okay,” you mumble, nodding again. “thank you again, i owe you for this.”

“no you don't.” manon shakes her head. “you're one of my best friends, i’d do anything to make sure you're okay.” she then pulls away from you, grabbing the can from you and setting it on the coffee table. “when does the sheriff's station open?”

“nine, i think,” you answer. 

“we’ll go right when it opens, then,” she says. “get it done as fast as possible so that she doesn't have to stay in there too long. then you can talk things out. i’m sure you'll already be on her good side just by bailing her out after what you said when she was arrested, so you have a good starting point. get her something to eat, get some drinks, and talk it out here in the home you two have made. it’ll all be okay. i promise.” 

“okay.” 

…

one week later you were standing outside the jail, biting your nails with your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. thankfully, you had enough to cover the bail and have a little leftover, which was a relief knowing it didn’t take everything in the safe. you had yet to even speak to daniela, despite manon telling you to at least try and see if she would talk to you. you didn’t want to hear yelling over the phone, you’d rather hear it in person where you could explain everything easier than if you were arguing over the phone line that would cut after five minutes. manon told you over and over again that she wouldn’t be mad at you, but the nervous feeling was still rooted deep inside you as you heard the loud buzzing and the gate slowly opening. 

looking up from the ground, you spot daniela walking with her bag of things. her eyes subtly widen a bit from what you can see, since they didn’t exactly tell her who bailed her out, just that she was able to leave. 

she slowly steps over to you, stopping in front of you and looking at you without saying anything. 

“hey,” you say quietly. “i’m really sor–”

you’re cut off from your apology by daniela kissing you. your eyes go wide for a second, but when her arms wrap around your waist you find yourself melting into the kiss, practically feeling all the emotions she was pouring out into it. 

when she pulls away, you’re both a little breathless, quiet panting coming from you two. 

“do you wanna get something to eat and head home?” you ask softly. “i’d rather talk at home.” 

“yeah, we’ll talk at home,” daniela responds in the same voice.

“okay.” you nod. 

…

by the time you two arrived at the apartment, it was already leading into the evening, the sunset coming down just as you opened the door and walked inside with bags of food and drinks in your hands. 

walking behind you into the apartment, the first thing dani notices is how clean it is. she figured it’d be destroyed when they came to get her, only feeling worse when she realized it had to have been you that cleaned up the place. she follows you silently, setting the food down on the dining room table and going to sit on the couch next to you. 

there’s a silence that fills the room. one that was far from comfortable. both of you sitting there not knowing what to say first, or to say anything at all. until you speak. 

“i’m really sorry,” your voice is barely able to be heard as you fiddle with your hands. “i-i didn’t think– i didn’t mean for it to go down that way, i-”

“don’t apologize,” daniela cuts you off, shaking her head. “there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. i deserved it.” she goes quiet for a moment before continuing. “i’m really, really sorry. i shouldn’t have done what i did, and i know i fucked up. i’m not sure why i did it, but i regret it so much. i don’t know why you bailed me out, i thought the last time was really going to be the last time. but…i’m glad you did. i just want to talk it out.” 

“i know, and that’s why i bailed you out,” you start. “listen, dani. i went to sophia to figure out what to do, and…it wasn’t a smart idea. i know you two already don’t like each other, but this could really make things worse for everyone. i– she convinced me to call the police even though i didn’t want to. i felt so bad once i saw how upset you were. i knew you knew you fucked up and was trying to do anything to make me stay a-and i ignored it. i-i thought it would make things easier but it made everything so m-much worse. everything just t-turned into a shit show a-and i didn’t know what to d-do.” you began stuttering over your words as a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” daniela is quick to wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest. “it’s okay, okay? i’m not mad at you for what you did. i deserved it. so please don’t beat yourself up over what you did, baby. i’m not upset at you.” she presses a gentle kiss on your head. 

“there-there’s something else i h-have to tell you,” you manage to get out, your anxiety growing and your breathing getting heavier. “please don’t get mad when i tell you th-this.” 

“nothing will make me mad, i promise,” dani responds. “what happened?”

clutching onto her shirt, your face is still pressing against her chest as you try to find the words to explain it. “i-i went to sophia’s after. y-you know she’s always had feelings f-for me, so i-i…i fucked up, dani.” you start fully sobbing into her chest at this point, which has her arms tightening around you both from you crying and what she was thinking you were going to say next. “i-i let her have her w-way with m-me b-b-but i hated it. it was t-terrible. sh-she didn’t care that i w-was uncomfortable, she di-didn’t stop even when i w-was crying. all i c-could think about was how y-you would never do that. i-it didn’t feel the same. sh-she didn’t care, she continued a-and i felt so bad after th-that i left immediately. i’m so sorry.” 

once you finished your words through sobs, daniela pulled you closer to her onto her lap, her arms tight around you as you cried. there were hundreds of thoughts running through her head, but they were far from being mad at you. she wasn’t mad at you. she was livid at sophia. “it’s okay,” she tells you over and over. “i’m not mad at you, i swear. i’m not mad.” hearing your cries continue made daniela wonder just how much sophia put you through when she wasn’t around, and thinking it made her jaw clench, anger bubbling inside of her. “baby, look at me,” she says softly. 

you slowly lift your head to look down at her, your eyes red and puffy with a few sniffles coming from you now and then. 

“i’m not upset, okay?” she says, running her hand through your hair. “i understand, i do. which is why i’m not angry at you. i’m angry at sophia, okay? she should’ve known better than to try and do that, let alone continue when you were crying. you haven’t seen her since, have you?”

you immediately shake your head quickly. “no, no, i haven’t. she tried texting and calling but i just ignored them.” 

“good.” daniela nods. “that means it’ll be a fun surprise for her when i show up at her front door.” 

the way she says that has your eyebrows furrowed together. “what do you mean?”

“don’t worry about it, mi amor,” she says, pecking your lips. “let’s just say she won’t be a problem anymore.” 

“as long as you don’t get arrested again, you can do what you want,” you tell her, hooking your arms around her neck. 

“i won’t, i promise.” she smiles at you. “are we okay?” she asks after a moment. 

it takes a minute for you to respond, but you nod your head in the end. “yeah, we’re okay.” 

“i love you,” daniela says, looking you in the eye. 

“i love you too,” you reply, leaning in and kissing her. 

…

it was late into the night when daniela got up. but not for the same reason it had been the past few months. was she going to see someone? technically. was it sophia? yes. was she going to beat the living shit out of her? probably. 

the latina carefully got out of the bed, unwrapping your arms around her and looking at the time on the digital clock. late enough. you shift around feeling her presence leave the bed, and you open your eyes to see her putting on a hoodie and her shoes. 

“where are you going?” you mumble tiredly. 

dani turns when she hears your voice, leaning down and pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m heading to sophia’s with manon and minji. don’t worry, i’ll text you once i’m there and when i’m on my way back.” she presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’ll bring you back something to eat if you’re awake when i’m leaving.” 

you nod your head, murmuring out a quiet “okay”. this is what you missed. if you were too tired to go out to deals with her, she would always say this. that she’d text you when she was there, and that she would text you when she was leaving that everything was okay, even then she would send more messages than necessary. but, you didn’t mind it. she knew you often got worried when it came to certain clients, and she always reassured you when she would go alone. it hadn’t been like this in months. for the past few months you’ve woken up to her already gone, not bothering to tell you where she was going. for the first time through this hell that’s been these last few months, it was starting to feel normal again. 

“be safe, please,” you say quietly. 

“always,” she replies, kissing your head again. 

walking out of the apartment, manon and minji were already waiting outside in front of minji’s car. the two turn when they hear footsteps coming towards them to see daniela walking towards them. 

“is it bad to say i’m surprised you showed?” daniela says, stopping in front of the car. 

“not really,” manon shakes her head. 

“thanks, anyways then,” daniela looks between the two. “are you both sure you want to do this?” 

“obviously,” manon says. 

“i’ve never liked her anyways,” minji adds, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“alright,” daniela nods. “let’s go then.” 

…

it was three in the morning when you heard the front door open. you were partially awake after daniela told you where she was going, glancing at your phone occasionally when it would light up. it had been thirty minutes since dani told you she was on her way back. just when you were getting worried you heard the creaking of the front door opening, and the jingling of keys. you sit up on the bed a little bit when daniela walks into the bedroom with a bag of food and drinks in her hands. 

“hey.” she smiles at you. “i got you some food and a milkshake from sonic. i’m sure you’re tired of it by now but it’s like, the only place open at this hour.”

“i don’t mind.” you shake your head. “thank you.” 

“it’s no problem,” she says, sitting down next to you on the bed. “here.” she hands you one of the drinks and takes the food out. 

sitting in silence while eating, you had a warm feeling radiating through your body. the type you hadn’t felt in months while everything was going on. the silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense. it was comfortable. it was normal, like it used to be. 

“i really missed this,” you say randomly in a quiet voice. “i missed you.” 

daniela looks over at you when you speak, seeing the small smile on your face that subconsciously makes a smile grow on her own face. “i missed this– i missed you, too,” she replies in the same voice. 

when you look over at her, you can barely make out her face with the lamp on your nightstand, but staring into her eyes, you know she’s genuine about it. “promise me we won’t do this again,” you tell her. 

“i promise,” she replies in a heartbeat. “you know why?” 

“why?” you encourage her, curious as to what she’ll say. 

“because i’m gonna marry you one day.” 

your breath hitches in your throat at her words. in the two years you’ve been together, she’s never mentioned anything of the sorts revolving marriage or that kind of commitment. and after what manon told you, you weren’t sure she would ever even consider the thought. to say you were surprised would be an understatement. 

“really?” your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you were doubting her words. 

“really.” daniela nods. “i don’t want to be with anyone except you. i don’t want you to be with anyone except me. i know i fucked up right now, but i swear in the future i’ll give you the newlywed life you want. i swear.” 

tears build in your eyes without your knowledge, so focused on her words that you didn’t even notice a few falling until dani’s hand reaches towards you and wipes them away with her thumb, her hand cupping your face. “you can’t go back on me now, y’know,” you say in a hushed voice. “you better stay.” 

“i will,” she responds. “i will, i promise. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you.” 

“then you’ll show me?” you say, your voice changing into a tone daniela was far too familiar with.

“oh, i’ll show you.” she leans in and kisses you. 

[moon-ttokki-x]

safe - skz x 9th member!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader

summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.

genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.

a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei

The lights are too bright.

You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.

Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.

Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.

A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.

Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.

But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.

Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.

"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"

He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"

You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.

Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.

So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.

Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.

By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.

Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.

"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.

Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."

"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."

Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.

.

The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.

Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.

Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.

You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.

You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.

Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.

Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.

Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.

"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."

You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.

You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.

You can go one more day.

.

The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.

Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.

Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.

You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.

"Hi, Y/n."

You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.

You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.

Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.

Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.

You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.

Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.

Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.

I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-

You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.

You close your eyes.

.

"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."

"Is she okay?"

"Did anyone see what happened?"

"Y/n!"

Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.

You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.

Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.

"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.

"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"

You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.

This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.

That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."

He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.

"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.

"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."

Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"

You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?

"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."

He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"

"Yes." Lie.

"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"

"No." Lie.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"This morning." Also a lie.

"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."

I can't.

"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.

Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.

"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."

"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.

"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."

Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"

"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"

"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."

You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.

Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.

"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"

You nod and let them lead you out the door.

.

The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.

Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.

"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.

"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.

"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."

"Yeah."

The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.

He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.

"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."

You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.

"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."

You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.

"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."

"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.

Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."

"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."

As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.

Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."

But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.

Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."

You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."

"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."

"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.

"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.

"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.

All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.

And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.

You are safe.

a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated

[stellewriites]

Part Four - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, angst

The pair of you stayed quiet in the taxi and then on the short walk to your hotel room. John broke the silence finally when the door closed behind you and you were faced with the double bed and your bags, presumably dealt with by John’s family earlier in the evening when they found out you’d not had chance to stop at the hotel beforehand. You’d wondered where Richard had disappeared to for half the evening.

“Thank you,” John said heartfelt, ducking his chin to meet your eyes. “For coming here, being there for me and—“

“And for not being a raging bigot?” You blurted out, biting your cheek immediately after. You looked up at John’s shocked silence and backtracked. “I’m sorry, that was blunt and- rude. I got pulled aside, figured it out from what they were saying.” You winced, and rubbed at your forehead when a headache made itself known.

“Where they saying anything good?” John asked calmly, jokingly even.

You sighed. “Honestly I think I should be commended for my patience with them but then you’d need about a hundred more accolades than me, I’d assume,” you said tiredly.

“It’s just small town bullshit. Used to bother me, but I’ve found people since that don’t care.”

“Mm. And just one more day of it, at least?” You asked rhetorically.

“Made all the more easy with you here,” he soothed.

You smiled thinly, his words causing an ache, before heaving a heavy sigh and rubbing at your tense shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, I need some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” He nodded and moved to give you space to reach for your bag. He left you to it in the bathroom and once the door was closed you let your face crumple just a little and your shoulders sag. What a mess, and he likely thought you were mad at him now for not telling you about it, leaving you in the dark with his family when that wasn’t the case at all.

You opened the door again and caught him with his shirt halfway unbuttoned.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered as he continued to get undressed. “Uhm, I just wanted to say that I understand why you didn’t tell me, when we first met. I mean given how everyone was there and you didn’t know me, not that you seem worried that I was upset about it, but I’m not. Just to confirm.”

Christ, dig yourself deeper.

John huffed a soft laugh and nodded. “Good to know, Sunshine.”

You nodded and closed the door again, leaving him to continue getting changed while you did the same, washing your face clean and brushing your teeth and feeling ten times lighter.

The ache you felt when you saw him with Charlotte hadn’t gone away, but you could put that on the back burner.

When you stepped back through, a little more hesitantly this time in case he was slow to change, you smiled when you saw he’d purposely left his sleep shirt off. His surgery scars were hardly visible beneath his dark chest hair and he’d clearly taken care of them to ease the healing and provide as much stretch in the skin and across his chest for movement.

You stayed quiet however and didn’t draw attention to his decision; instead you smiled at him a little less forced and joined him in bed.

“You better not snore,” you warned as you turned onto your side away from him, snuggling down into the blankets. You wanted him to know nothing had changed since you’d found out, but you needed to get a hold of your feelings now before you got hurt even worse. The last thing you wanted was to act cold to him, but if you saw his tired eyes crinkle in a fond smile from across a shared pillow you might do something drastic like confess your feelings or suck his cock ‘til your jaw went numb.

You clenched your thighs and shuffled to get comfortable as you felt the mattress dip behind you. It was time to sleep, not time to think about your kiss and the rumbling moan he’d let slip, mouth to mouth with a direct line to your—

“Good night!” You said overly chirpily before yanking the covers up to your hot cheeks, not daring to look over your shoulder.

“G’night, Sunshine,” you heard him say quietly before he switched off the lamp on the bedside table.

——

The celebrations were continued the next day of course. Though this time it was for their closest friends and family only, John had assured you when you’d asked if the crowd was going to be as big as it had been the night before.

Charlotte’s family had wanted to give the couple one last send off before their honeymoon, which came in the form of a garden party in the afternoon.

“Need to give the guests enough time to recover from their hangovers, save face,” John had joked.

“It’ll be hair of the dog, more like,” you’d snorted.

You and John had woken up early enough to spend the free morning together, deciding to grab breakfast nearby before heading into the viper’s nest again.

You spent the time waiting for your orders to arrive convincing yourself you could get over John once you were back home and able to gain a bit of space – and maybe a distraction. You just needed to get it together, to not fuck up the great friendship you’d made with John over the next twelve hours. Easy.

Never mind the few minutes you’d spent in the middle of the night looking over at his side of the bed, tracing the outline of his shoulders in the dark with your eyes. You’d yearned to reach out and touch, to huddle close for warmth and comfort and to breathe in a lungful of his scent, but you’d refrained. You’d jumped out of bed in the morning when you heard the shower going and took the chance to breathe while you were alone.

You’d waited your turn to tidy up and get ready, saying a quiet hello when you passed each other and doing your best to act like you weren’t gagging for his touch. It was the least you could to to calm yourself in the cold shower until you were able to make eye contact and hold his hand to the nearby café without sweating.

John however was struggling not to do something stupid while sat opposite you across the little café table, his eyes glued to your form, exactly where they’d been glued since you’d first stepped out in your cute sundress.

“Figured there was no point in bringing extra clothes just so I could get changed after brekkie, so I put it on now,” you’d said that morning. “Might’ve gotten away with keeping my pyjamas on if we were eating at the hotel but I wouldn’t want to give your old neighbours anything else to gossip about if they saw us.”

You’d winked playfully and John had swallowed his tongue, nodding like a bobblehead when the words stayed stuck.

And now, with your elbows leant on the table as you tapped away on your phone with both hands, your arms pushed at either side of your chest and made John’s life harder as your cleavagee became so distracting that he’d burnt his tongue and choked on his coffee, twice. He’d managed to swallow back his hiss of pain but felt his cheeks flush red when he realised how ridiculous he was acting.

He was grateful that you’d not noticed his staring and even more so when the waiter brought over your orders with a knowing smirk, grateful to have food to concentrate on and for you to have a reason to move your arms and give your tits a rest from driving him crazy.

Breakfast together was otherwise uneventful, conversation easy as always, and once you’d finished your own strong coffee, the pair of you made you way over to Charlotte and Tom’s new home for their ‘intimate garden party’.

Again you wondered why the pair of you had managed to get invited, but the image of John and Charlotte laughing in the low light the evening before answered that question for you. Whether she was still interested like John or not, it was clear their history together meant something to Charlotte and would continue to do so.

With your mood already on edge, it didn’t take much from the other guests to set you off, though with considerably less alcohol served at brunch, both they and you were more subtle with the intrusive questions and returned biting answers.

“Look at you John, doing well since it all went downhill with Charlotte then? Found someone else that likes you for… you?” An old classmate asked as she leant into her husbands snickering side.

“What’s not to like?” You asked bluntly, staring her down until she cleared her throat and looked awkwardly to her partner. “Oh, I see. Jealous some of us didn’t have to settle,” you hummed knowingly as you looked her partner up and down. You’d have felt bad any other day, not one to judge quickly, but it turned out John was a sore spot for your usually light temper and your patience wore thin at his expense. Ignoring her offended scoff, you visibly brightened as trays of food began to be set out on a nearby table. “Oh John, look. They finally brought out the snacks.”

“What are we waiting for then?” He encouraged with a teasing nudge and the pair of you walked away from his old classmate without a further word.

You continued your sarcastic and caustic approach to the other guests for the next hour, only easing up politely if John didn’t immediately stiffen at the sight or sound of them.

Maybe John wasn’t yours, but you still felt a duty to be protective of him, as a friend and his current fake girlfriend. No one else seemed to step in when given the chance, and your role meant you could be as catty as you wanted without raising suspicion. So you took advantage and let out your frustration.

John couldn’t have complained, happy enough to watch you; the sharp smile you sent to the prying guests so different to the soft one you’d share with him a moment later. He was happy to see someone stand up for him without fail and brag about him as if the last six years hadn’t been a complete waste.

Even if you’d gotten a little creative with your bragging as the party went on.

“We were visiting Scarborough for the day,” you said to his aunt and two other older ladies that had been sucked in to your stories. You’d started lying halfway through the gathering just to see if anyone would call you out, to see just how far you could go that they’d still believe you. It had been tricky keeping his face straight as he listened but you were clearly having fun with it, so he wasn’t going to stop you, especially when it painted him in a flattering light. Most of the time. “We were walking along the cliff edge when we heard a shout from up ahead, and John being John he had to go investigate.”

The ladies cooed.

“Someone had fallen over the wall trying to take a photo of the dolphins,” you said dramatically, wide eyed and pausing to let your small audience gasp. “John didn’t even hesitate to jump in himself to help. Think he shaved ten years off of my life that day,” you said and lightly slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

“Couldn’t let the bloke drown,” John said humbly.

“The pair of you were left bobbing in the bloody water until they could fish you out!” You laughed, only encouraged when his aunt laughed along. John shook his head at you with a hidden smile, this one teasing him more than anything. “You were freezing by time they got you back on land.”

“What were you thinking?” His aunt asked with worry.

“Didn’t have time to think of how I was getting back up, did I?” He asked you with a fake pout.

You squeezed his cheeks and cooed. “You were a hero in my eyes, resemblance to a wet cat or not,” you snickered.

John felt his chest ache with the idea of having this with you all the time; not just for his family and Charlotte’s benefit, not just for a long weekend.

Christ, when he thought back to how much he’d been enjoying his time away from work this last month with you, how easy it was to push the important things aside for you, to prioritise the fun stuff or just the simple domestic things that made your life a little easier… He felt a pang of guilt that he wasn’t able to do that sooner for Charlotte, not because he wanted it with her, but because he’d put her through years or waiting for it to never come. It wasn’t her, and it wasn’t anything you’d done either.

It was simply that he’d finally been able to do it, years too late and yet just in time.

And thinking of Charlotte moving on with Tom, finally getting what she deserved; the attention, the love, and the possible family. None of that brought hurt with it like it would have when he first received the invitation. It didn’t bring jealousy or seething regret, just happiness for his ex-wife and her new life. A life he’d have never fitted into.

But this one you were making, fabricating? He could gladly settle in and make home there. You made things easy in a way he couldn’t fathom.

But telling you this seemed impossible.

How could he tell you he was no longer mourning his past life, instead looking towards a brighter future now that he’d come to terms with how he and Charlotte weren’t meant to be. Seeing her face to face had been the splash of ice cold water needed for him to see clearly. And maybe you and him weren’t meant to be either, but god did he just want to try for the first time in years.

He swallowed thickly as you brought your story to an end, rubbing his arm and looking at him too adoringly, it felt undeserved.

“I’m not the one that saved that baby rabbit though, am I?” he said, starting his own story. Though this one was real, and something you’d mentioned to him once in passing, something he knew you’d never have expected him to remember. “Found it in your garden injured so you nursed it back to health for a week, took time off work to do it even, and then let it go in the nearby park.”

“You remember that?” you asked, disbelief written clear as day over your face. You stared at him without blinking, a smile wanting to pull at your lips.

“‘Course I do,” he said simply. “Remember everything you tell me.”

You let the smile break then, ducking your head bashfully and leaning heavily into his arm. He leant in to kiss the crown of your head, glad that his impulses only helped to sell the lie.

“I’m going to go grab a snack,” you said and cleared your throat. You tried to avoid John’s eyes but they flickered up without permission, a magnet to his own. “I’ll get you your favourites,” you promised.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said softly.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you got to the canapés table. You needed to reign it in, stop getting sucked in by blue eyes and rich voice.

“Never bloody filling enough,” you outwardly complained as you piled the snacks high on your plate. “Smaller than baby bites,” you huffed under your breath as you picked up a cube of cheese and ate it as you went along.

You heard a small laugh and turned to your right, eyes widening when you saw Shirl, John’s mum.

“They are quite silly in practice,” she admitted, gesturing to the small portions. She looked over her shoulder. “Though they look very nice plated like this.”

You snorted and moved to join her further up the table.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re on our third plate,” you stage whispered, hooking a thumb back at John.

Shirley smiled indulgently. “Rich is on his third serving by himself. I wouldn’t worry.”

You laughed and looked back at John’s dad as he stood with John, slapping his son’s shoulder and nodding along as he spoke.

“You’re lovely together,” Shirley suddenly said. “I wasn’t sure at first. But you both seem good for one another, or at least you seem good for him.”

You watched her for a moment, how her gaze fluttered over the crowd as she sipped at her drink. Hair of the dog for Shirl too it seemed.

“Thank you.” You smiled genuinely when she looked at you out of the corner of her eye. “Lizzy not attending?”

Shirley sighed, happy for the topic change. She leant close and kept her gaze shrewd for any listening ears. “Too hung over to even get out of bed. God knows what people will think tomorrow.”

“Oh I simply couldn’t imagine,” you simpered along with a smirk.

——

“Quite the woman you’ve managed to catch for yourself,” Richard said as he came to stand by his son’s side.

“Yeah, she’s great,” John said as he watched you. He shifted with the weight of his father’s palm slapping his shoulder.

“‘Great’ he says,” his dad huffed with humour. “She’s a keeper, John.”

John shifted uneasily and nodded. Suddenly the weight of the lie settled heavily and uncomfortably over him, more prevalent now than all weekend and it dried his throat. He checked his watch and cleared his throat.

“Think we’ll need to be off soon,” he said. “To beat the traffic and all that.”

“You’ll be wanting a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow, I assume,” his dad agreed. “It was nice seeing you, son.”

John looked to his dad and took a deep breath. He spoke as he shook his dads hand tightly. “You too, dad.”

——

You turned at the tap on your arm and smiled when John was at your side once more.

“Got you the last of the little sausage rolls,” you said cheerily and he kissed your temple in thanks.

“We’ve got to get going, didn’t realise the time,” John said apologetically and turned to his mum with a close lipped smile.

“Oh, shame,” she hummed. She put her drink on the table and pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t leave it so long between visits next time. I’d like to see her again some time soon.”

She nodded to you over his shoulder and John swallowed past the guilt for a second time.

“I promise,” he lied.

“Come on, let’s scoff these as we say a quick good bye to everyone, John,” you suggested and let him lead you around the guests.

By time the pair of you got to Charlotte and Tom you’d finished your plate, but you were remiss for not having anything in your hands to keep them busy. Instead you had to try and keep them still as you watched with a little anxiety as John shook Tom’s hand and gave Charlotte a hug, wishing them well with what you could almost believe was a real smile on his face if you didn’t know better.

“It was great catching up, Lottie,” John said as he hooked his arm back around your waist. “Lovely party.”

“I’m so glad you both came,” Charlotte said, looking between the pair of you.

“Thanks for inviting us,” you added.

John didn’t linger; with a wave, he led you away and you felt him squeeze your hip as if to comfort himself.

With one last goodbye to his family, including Lizzy who had finally managed to fight past her hangover to turn up fashionably late, you climbed into his car with your bags in the boot.

You were uncharacteristically silent for the first part of the drive and it had the journey feeling a little melancholic, something John picked up on immediately.

His eyes cut across to you gazing out of the window, your hands folded in your lap, legs turned towards the door. His lips pursed at the shut off body language and he switched on the radio, skipping stations until he found an old rock song. Feeling his lips twitch he turned it up with another scant look your way to gauge your reaction and started singing along out of tune.

Your eyebrows rose at the sudden burst from his speakers and the sound of his scratchy singing voice, and you bit back a surprised smile as you turned to watch him. You snorted but joined in as soon as it hit the more familiar chorus, falling into his contagious spirit easily and drumming your hands on the dashboard when the heavy drum solo hit.

You couldn’t help but laugh when John took the chance at a red light to play the air guitar, head banging in time and biting his lip in concentration as if actually playing the tricky chords. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness however that all of this was temporary; coming to an end as soon as you reached home in a few hours.

You turned your sad eyes down and played the air keyboard dramatically to keep his suspicion waylaid; stating the instrument was your specialty when John commented on your questionable finger technique.

——

When he finally pulled up in front of your house several hours and a few stops later, you both sat there and looked at your front door in silence without moving.

He saw you fiddle with the strap of your handbag nervously, picking and scratching with your thumb nail.

He cleared his throat softly before breaking the silence. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You took a moment before giving him a weak smile. “Just know how shit it is to watch someone you care about be in love with someone else,” you settled on with a shrug. You felt pathetic about your month-old crush, especially in comparison to the hurt John was guaranteed to have been feeling at that moment.

He frowned and nodded slowly, trying to piece together what you may have meant. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell you that he didn’t feel that way about Charlotte anymore. That he’d realised he was over her this weekend while with you; but he hesitated, closed his mouth with a clack. Because this was just a favour to you wasn’t it? There were no real feelings on your end, right? It’d be wrong of him to put that on you now after the emotional exhaustion of lying to his family and supporting him through it. Selfish of him even.

But what did you mean you knew how it felt?

You watched him struggle for a moment and felt your heart ache when he said nothing; entirely unsurprised, and yet knowing he didn’t feel the same didn’t change how much it hurt to have it confirmed.

“Thanks for inviting me, John,” you said as sweet as you could manage. “I had a really good time.”

“Despite my family’s best efforts,” he joked weakly.

You rolled your eyes playfully. In a moment of weakness you reached out for his hand and squeezed it where it rested on his thigh.

“You know, I’m going to miss hanging out, just me and you,” you admitted, regretting it when John’s eyes turned sad. You spoke before he could have to chance to share false platitudes with you that maybe you’ll stay in touch; this was a favour, no more no less. You’d completed your end, there was no reason to drag out the inevitable, not when he didn’t need the fake dates as ‘proof’ anymore. “You’re a great guy, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

He blinked and in a flash you were out of the car, door slamming with finality behind you as you jogged across the clear road.

Seeing you slip through his fingers in real time brought that feeling of an empty pit back in his stomach, but this time it wasn’t regret for something he couldn’t change or yearning for someone already out of reach.

“Chris’sake, I’m a grown fucking man,” he cursed himself out as he shouldered his way out of the car. He owed you the effort of trying at least.

John called after you, a shout of your name he didn’t often use, and you turned in surprise before you opened your front door. He saw the glassy tint to your eyes and felt his heart clench. Without thinking he blurted out the first thing that came to mind that might stop you for just a moment longer, “I still owe you the money we agreed on.” Your expression shuttered, shoulders stiffening, and he rounded his car quickly, needing to be closer with no barriers. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I meant to say, love. Wait.”

You stayed silent as you watched him on the other side of the dead road.

He paused to gather his racing thoughts.

“I don’t love my ex-wife anymore, or not how I did. Haven’t for a while I think; just loved the idea of her, the memory of what we had, the familiarity of it.” He swallowed thickly. “Think I loved fucking wallowing because I was used to it, ‘nd it was easier than admitting I’d been wrong and having to put myself out there again to get hurt a second time ‘round.”

He checked the road before making his way closer as you wrapped your arms around yourself, tight and self-comforting.

“But these last couple of days… This last month; Sunshine, I got closure I didn’t know I needed but more than that I realised I want more than what I’ve been letting myself have. I want you.”

“John,” you finally spoke hoarsely. You shook your head.

“The time we’ve spent together recently… They’ve been some of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He stepped forward and reached for your hands but you kept them folded away. “I want to feel that way again, every day that I can, with you.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” you said gently, as if breaking to him that he still loved Charlotte. “You were laughing together at the end of the reception like it was your wedding.”

John huffed in disbelief. The fucking irony.

“Yeah because she told me how lucky I was to have a firecracker like you by my side,” he said with a laugh. “Not because I was trying to get her back. She’s pregnant, Sunshine, that ship has sailed.”

You felt your heart drop when realisation set in. “So I’m a consolation prize.”

“No,” he denied vehemently, eyes wide and horrified. “No, that’s not what I meant, bloody hell.”

He wiped a hand over his beard roughly, feeling you drift away word by word. He was fucking this up.

“Seeing her like that,” he started carefully. “I understand now that I didn’t want her back in the first place, not really.” At your doubtful look he continued on. “I don’t feel any jealousy or regret and not being the one starting a family with her; I just want to be happy like she is. And, Sunshine, it’s you that makes me happy like that.”

You looked at him with watery eyes, hope glistening in his own as his hand hovered by your hip.

You were quiet for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. John had flipped everything you’d felt, everything you’d thought you’d known about the last few days on its head and now you were stuck outside your house in the cold as the sun set, his confession heavy and waiting.

You felt cornered. It didn’t feel genuine, you still thought he was doing this out of some delayed sense of desperation and rejection. Clinging onto the first available woman after seeing Charlotte move on completely.

You liked John, a lot, and at any other time you’d have likely been jumping for joy hearing him say all of this. But you thought you knew him pretty well by now, and you weren’t going to make yourself unhappy by being second choice to help ease his bruised ego.

“I’m not looking for anything right now, John. Sworn off dating, remember?” You reminded him of your first conversation in that café, something that felt so long ago.

John became quiet for a moment, considering your soft rejection and trying to come to terms with it. He nodded and took a step back, his hand dropped back to his side.

“If you do start looking again, you’ve got my number,” he offered softly.

Your breath hitched and you nodded. You looked away and wiped at your face roughly when a tear fell. In a split decision you leant up and kissed his cheek before turning back and closing the door behind you.

did a little moodboard for this fic when i was stuck,, kept reader off it, the people in it are optional oc representation

[somerandomcockroach]

*stretches, breathes fresh cold air in, waters eyes, sits down* Here we go again ~

MMMMMMMMM Prowl's birth and existence starting and being described as nothing AHAH, EVEN MORE, the way to kill him if something goes crazy. MAN, MY BOY, YOU WERE BORN COLD AND COVERED IN COLD ALREADY Wait is it like. Half Prowl's pov. I know it can be described this way but I just, loved how the "Warm hands on his head sounds", more like explaining how it feels for him than a simple fact *sudden cackle* Didn't know translation of hitherto and it sounded like a funny mispelling.

*INHALES* I listen to "Steel for Humans" and it beat SO WELL I've got shivers "He wasn't nothing. He was a void, but suddenly that void had a direction, no matter how meaningless it sounded." NOT A NOTHING, but still not a something, void created out of will just to serve and not have a will "He became his purpose" I SO MUCH WANT TO SEE IT INSIDE HIS HEAD

G[PDFGOPFOWWJ

OH THIS IS SO TASTY. OTHER VIEW ON TAC NET, SO DAMN TASTY AHEFHJADGH. I WOULDN'T HAVE PAID ATTENTION BUT. "HE CALLED HIM PROWL" NOW THAT DOESN'T QUITE MAKE SENSE PFFFHT OF COURSE HE TOLD HIM TO DISAGREE WITH HIM. OF COURSE HE TOLD A CREATION THAT WAS BORN TO SERVE AND AGREE TO BE AND DISAGREE.

AJHEGHRESJGERS OF COURSE WHY NOT. BREAK HIM.

GOOD JOB, MY BOY, GIVE THEM HEADACHES AHAHA

I need them in one room more often, his own scientific amusement and observation Ah so his very first purpose was to help him bring a peace. YES IT IS A NANNY AHAHA

FRIENDSHIP WILL NOT GET YOU TO COUNCIL FASTER OH THERE ARE OTHER GOLEMS. I kind of was wondering if Orion is the only one who will just... make it different Naaaahhh Prowl is already a big bunch of emotions even if not the happiest ones, no wonder he isn't like them "Not allowed artifacts" *Looks at Shockwave* HGASHDGAEHGEAHG I assist Orion and help him, agree.... actually, do not agree anymore, Ratchet now looks like a good friend to help me keep Orion in place. So golems are widely spread occasion. Keeping places clean and other easy stuff. Double-bottom trap. DAMN I LIKE BODY LANGUAGE DETAILS JAHGGEA not sure if Prowl just now made a joke or stated a fact about processor.

NOW, THIS IS A DYNAMIC WITH THEM I LOVE TO SEE

EWHGFHEWFGEWH OH EHWGREHG MMM OH I LOVE HOW PROWL IS JUST. NO WAY TO GET THAT HE IS A GOLEM. NO MORE.

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZEEEEE W- WAIT. F*** YOU. YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS HIS STUDENTS ARE SAVAGES SAVED AND GOTTEN TO SHOCKWAVE YEEEEEESSSSSSS “Can read, write, speak, even makes music.” Who's that pokemon? ........Okay here comes the bits of their future destruction... and the fact that they will just. Accept it. Of course! Why not! *lies down* ....PROWL. PROWL NO. PROWL WRONG. NOT THIS WAY. NOT LIKE THIS NO.

PROWL STOP THIS IS A WRONG CHARACTER GROWTH

"When...when a mech commits especially terrible crimes against the will of Primus, the very magic of their spark rises up against them and turns them into a demon. And I just learned today what a...demon looks like." lET Me just. There is no shit like "Primus' will. Primus hangs out with atheist and smiles when someone says that Primus isn't capable of everything. It is the council. AH. Council is capable of extracting the spark. CAN THEY ALSO F**KING TURN OTHERS INTO DEMONS?!? ORION THIS IS COUNCIL I DON'T BELIEVE THAT IT IS PRIMUS, ORION YOU ARE DOING RIGHT THINGS.

This bit. Prowl has done things. He has done and might be chased for it. But he doesn't have a spark. I wonder to whom he resembles with the "I hope he doesn't"...

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

___________________

Magical Golem Prowl anyone? ‘,:) This story exists in the same universe as Spellbound au. and Monster hunter au and ties them together so I highly recommend you read all of them.

The fic under the cut⤵️

He seemed to be nothing.

The emptiness that infinitely defined his nonexistent self bounced off the metal plates and glinted in the droplets of still-warm energon. He was nothing, but there was so much around him that the space was like an infinite buzz of cluttered noise. The voices above him sounded excited. The metal slab beneath him was cold and hard.

“Good. Now you need to put a piece of your armor on this. Somewhere it will be in plain sight and easily reachable.”

“Oh...wouldn't it make more sense to hide it under the armor? I mean, it's an obvious weak point.”

He idly thought, his hands felt numb.

“No no, that's the whole point. You're using an artifact you haven't fully studied and you don't know exactly how it's going to turn out. If it goes crazy and becomes dangerous, you should have an easy way to destroy it. Where's the artifact by the way?”

The tinkling of metal.

The sound of a crystal clattering against armor.

Warm hands on his head.

“Here.”

“Excellent. Now. This will be the base on which the entire spell will be held, so you want to hide this artifact very well and secure it carefully so it doesn't break by mistake.”

Did he have hands too? He was nothing, why did he have hands? It didn't make sense.

Orion took a couple steps away from the table and stood pensively.

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave, hitherto distracted by an almost invisible spot on his shoulderplate, glanced leisurely over Orion's shoulder

“Golems don't need much to function. You made a good shell. The magical structure is strong as well, I see.”

Orion hesitantly pointed to the golem's forehead, decorated with a neat sharp chevron.

“I added some things that weren't in your instructions and I think I made a mistake somewhere.”

“Golem making is a complex skill, don't give up if it doesn't work right awa...you know what, actually no, you did everything right.”

Orion shrugged in frustration.

“Then why won't it move?”

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“ Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion walked back over to the table with a quiet “oh” and nervously clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

The emptiness that forever defined his nonexistent self stammered. He wasn't nothing. He had a purpose and that purpose shaped him, put strength into his numb limbs and molded his lack of thought into naked intent.

He wasn't nothing. He was a void, but suddenly that void had a direction, no matter how meaningless it sounded.

He stopped being just nothing. He became his purpose. And it felt so right that it was unclear how he could ever have been anything else before.

He opened his optics.

Orion, who apparently hadn't expected that the thing he'd made specifically for it to move would move, jerked back with a funny sound.

On the opposite side, Shockwave nodded proudly, returning to the spot on his armor that even in the bright lights of the workshop only he could see.

“I believed in you.”

_________

“Oh my god! How do you sneak up on me so quietly every time?”

He wasn't nothing anymore. He was a whole long list of instructions and rules. His creator sat him down at a table and meticulously listed everything he could and could not do. Handed him many books and ordered him to attend a huge number of lectures. He now knew who to bow to if he passed them in the hallway and who to avoid. He had learned hundreds of names and thousands of titles. Learned how to pretend to be a real Mech, even though he wasn't.

The world around him was complex and confusing, but he found that this complexity had its own patterns, linked together in a bizarre web of systems and sequences. It was worth pulling on the right end, and the meaningless facts organized themselves into something much more manageable.

Everything made sense. The planet revolved around a star. Mechs rejoiced when they got something that improved their quality of life. Energon burned, producing energy. Big things tended to be heavier than small things.

The world was divided into Mechs and monsters...and him.

He was inclined to be...quiet.

His creator - he'd asked to be called Orion - twitched when he found his creation standing right behind him.

He was very talented at finding Orion wherever he was. And very light compared to most things his size. Like everything else it made sense. He wasn't a Mech, he was just an empty shell. An armor summoned to life by magic. His footsteps were as quiet as a mini bot's. Whatever Orion called it, he wasn't 'sneaking' on purpose.

A few cycles later, Orion accidentally bent one of its finals when he turned around too quickly, startled by the quiet footsteps behind him.

He named him Prowl. It was...not exactly logical, but there was a certain sense to it. Prowl nodded and agreed. He always agreed with everything Orion said, even if it didn't make sense at all. Orion's opinion took a higher priority than anything else.

Until it didn't.

Until Orion gave him a focused look and told him that he should argue if he thought it was necessary.

Until Orion put the servo on his shoulder and said something along the lines of....

“You can disagree with me if you think my opinion is wrong. I'm not asking you to go against me. I'm not perfect and I can't be the one absolute point of reference for everything. You can and I'm sure will be smarter than me about many things. I want you to tell me if I'm wrong and what I should do about it.”

Like…well….like an absolute fool.

This concept was new. Prowl wasn't built to argue. He was made to obey orders and to serve a function.

Orion smiled slyly. At least it was probably a smile behind his mask that made the corners of his optics lift.

“It wouldn't be considered a disobedience of my order if I ordered you to disobey it. Don't you think?”

Prowl opened his mouth to agree out of habit, but then changed his mind mid-motion and closed it back. It...it didn't make sense. It made sense that was breaking under its own weight. It was mercilessly mixing up all of his pre-learned patterns for talking to Orion. If he agreed with that logic now, it would mean accepting its use. If he protested, it would also mean accepting it, but in a bit more embarrassing way. Just when he was thinking of simply retreating silently to the nearest shadow and banging his head against the wall, he heard a quiet chuckle and realized that Orion had been amusing himself for some time now, watching him struggle.

Prowl decided that verbal responses might be overrated and frowned his face in the most believable expression of displeasure he could portray.

Orion broke out into laughter.

________

“What exactly is my goal?”

Orion looks. Curious. He stops talking to Shockwave and leans back on the bench.

“Right now, to study these journals. I already told you.”

Prowl nods to indicate he heard him and continues

“Studying serves a future purpose. Studying for the sake of studying would be meaningless to me. What is my final goal?”

“To assist me” Orion says slightly confused. ”Within the best of your ability of course.“”

“Аh. Assist in the fulfillment of your goal.”

“Well. I'd say so, yes.”

Prowl nods

“And what is your goal?”

Shockwave, who has been sitting next to them the whole time looks like they're a couple of previously unknown to science species he's just personally discovered.

Prowl ignores him.

“I...you remember the separation between Mechs and monsters, right?” asks Orion cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Mechs...are unfair to monsters. Monsters are cruel to Mechs. It's a needlessly violent situation that I want to...try to. Fix.”

Prowl frowns to indicate that the information isn't completely clear.

“You're a member of the order of hunters. And...” he shakes his head toward the nearest window ”...you have a considerable number of hunters under your command. Your job involves destroying monsters.”

Shockwave makes some sort of quiet amused sound and props his chin up with his hand.

Prowl ignores him harder.

“My job is to bring peace.” says Orion “You don't have to kill monsters to do that. You can negotiate with them. Find a compromise. Coexist. I...I guess basically, I'm trying to make the world a little better?”

Prowl doesn't look impressed. He's actually making a special effort to not let Orion think in any way that he might be intrigued by the whole endeavor.

“You do realize that's a disproportionately large goal for just one Mech, right?”

Orion shrugs awkwardly

“That's why I made you.”

__________

Ratchet puts aside his tools and critically examines his work.

“Don't touch that and it will heal normally.”

Orion smiles gratefully

“Thank you.”

Ratchet is important to Orion. They are close and very valuable friends to each other. The two of them look peaceful now, despite the fact that Ratchet threatened Orion when he first showed up in Sick Bay, so Prowl decides it would be a socially acceptable moment to start talking

“Orion, you're wanted at the Council.”

The second half of his line is drowned helplessly in two startled exclamations at once. Orion, to his honor, calms down almost immediately, but Ratchet continues cursing for a while.

Prowl doesn't wait for him to finish. The Council meeting is earlier than usual today and Orion has already had a few occasions of misbehavior. It's in his best interest to at least show up on time this time.

“Shockwave asked me to tell you to hurry. I will add that showing up at the last minute will not be good for your reputation if you are still hoping to convince the council to let you take more units.”

Ratchet .....stares.

“Primus' rusty hinges, Orion, who's that? Did they assign a nanny to you?”

Orion twitches his finals playfully and immediately crinkles in pain, remembering that one of them should have been left to heal.

“Remember when I wanted to find an assistant? Well...”

Ratchet casts an increasingly more suspicious look at Prowl. Prowl decides that friendliness is overrated and limits his expression to a barely perceptible tilt of his head in response.

“...Shockwave recently helped me figure out how to create golems and I figured if I couldn't find anyone I could trust, I might as well...make one. So. Ratchet meet Prowl.” finishes Orion awkwardly.

Ratchet glares at Prowl for a while longer. Then he turns away and starts tidying up Sick Bay.

“I'm not buying it. I don't know where you found this guy, but you're not playing me. Nice poker face by the way.”

One of Prowl's wings twitches

“He wasn't lying.”

Ratchet snorts grumpily.

“Those...” he waves toward the next room ”...are golems.

There, behind the wall, several golems scurry around. They have medical staff symbols painted on their shoulders, and there is not a trace of thought in their eyes. Two are scrubbing the floors, another wiping the shelves and window sills clean of dust. They occasionally mumble softly under their noses or utter an inane “excuse me” every time they accidentally bump into each other. Prowl knows that if you ask any of them a question with more than one variable, they start babbling guiltily and shrugging their shoulders. They're stupid, but they themselves don't seem to care about that at all. They are their purpose. And their purpose is to keep things clean. They are pride because they are good at their job.

Prowl frowns. He's a headache. Because his "purpose" has been distracted by his conversation with Ratchet and will probably add another tardy to his list in the near future.

Orion begins (thank goodness) to move toward the door

“I've made improvements. There might have been...some not exactly allowed artifacts.”

Ratchet rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly. Prowl can see that his face is already starting to wrinkle in that spot. Patient antics probably age Ratchet far more effectively than the passage of time itself.

“I...you know what...go before the Council sends a search party to look for you.”

Orion sighs and without further distraction finally walks out the door.

Prowl decides that Ratchet might be a good ally when it comes to managing Orion.

He nods politely goodbye before leaving.

______________

“I am different from them. Why?”

Orion puts down the document he's been working on and looks first at Prowl and then, over his head, at the other golems scurrying down the hallway with brooms and rags. He doesn't need to interject exactly who he thinks Prowl is different from.

“Do you want a philosophical answer or a technical one?”

Prowl reaches out and pokes somewhere in Orion's document

“ You missed a comma. Both.”

Orion obediently puts the comma in and folds up the document. His finals are twitching faintly. It could be a sign of concentration as well as distraction. Prowl has already figured out that Orion's body language is a double-bottom trap. For a Mech with this level of expressiveness, Orion is surprisingly difficult to read.

“Sometime quite a while ago during one of my expeditions, I found a unique artifact. A fascinating item, granting wisdom to anyone brave enough to use it.”

“I have a feeling a ‘but’ is coming.”

“You're right. The artifact's unique gift was also its curse. It fed so much information through the Mech's heads that it literally caused the processors of its owners to melt.”

“Oh. Good thing I don't have a processor then.”

Orion laughs quietly

“Indeed. You won't have that problem. And about the other part....Think of all the Mechs you know who are savvy enough about politics and available to work together at the moment.”

Orion gives him a moment before continuing.

“ What is the likelihood that the most trustworthy of them would betray me, for their own gain or out of fear?”

“ Twenty-eight percent,” Prowl informs.

And then hesitates a moment.

Orion is obviously a smart Mech. Not smart enough to single-handedly dominate the political arena, definitely not with his ideals and ideas of what's right. But smart enough to realize it. He knows what he wants and he also knows he can't achieve it alone.

Prowl looks at Orion, who just stands there, eyeing him, without in any way trying to continue the conversation.

Orion is idealistic, and therefore often mistaken for stupid. He isn't. Orion doesn't just know that he can't succeed alone, he knows that everyone else knows it too. He thinks this knowledge will be used against him when the opportunity arises. He's right. By Prowl's count, at least three suspiciously clever Mechs were going to sweet-talk their way into becoming Orion's assistant one way or another before... he appeared.

One of the janitor golems runs past them down the corridor. He doesn't turn around, doesn't even slow down or cast a curious glance. His only goal, his only interest is cleaning. The rest of the world might as well not exist at all.

Prowl thinks he's not that different.

Orion apparently reads the understanding from his face, because he nods contentedly and starts walking further down the hall.

“You didn't take yourself into account when you made the statistics, did you?”

Prowl follows him silently on his heels. Not close enough to be familiar, but not so far away that the conversation stops being private.

“The sampling condition was all mechs. I am not one.”

“That's true” Orion shrugs “You have no loved ones that the Council could use to influence you. You have no desires to be bought by their fulfillment. And while I cannot say with absolute certainty that you will never be capable of going against me...” Prowl starts to open his mouth to object but Orion gestures him to stop, “...no no no no, let me finish. And while I can't be sure you'll never betray me, I at least know for sure that before you met me you had no reason to do so. Do you understand?”

Prowl understands. It makes sense. He still feels the need to argue back, because it is part of his function to do that.

“I would never betray you. I'm not capable of it.”

Orion twitches his finals. Without seeing his face Prowl assumes it is a sign of doubt.

“You are a creature of intellect, Prowl. I am a Mech of ideals. Those two things don't always combine well.”

______

“Foolish and presumptuous.”

Prowl ponders that his function could be much easier if he didn't have to constantly try to balance what is right and what is right in Orion's eyes.

“If you were spotted, the Council would have good reason to assume this isn't the first time you've done something like this.”

“No one noticed,” Orion tries, but Prowl doesn't let him finish that thought

“No one has seen you, because you're lucky. You can't count on it being a permanent occurrence! You undermine your own position by giving the Council grounds for suspicion, you...”

Prowl stops, still pointing his finger accusingly somewhere on Orion's chin. Shockwave, who has witnessed the scene, makes an impressed face and steps closer.

“I swear, you're probably the most capable golem maker I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, Orion. If I hadn't seen that guy on your assembly table, I would never know.”

Prowl takes the statement as a compliment, but doesn't feel the need to show it outwardly. Shockwave, as one of the few who knows about him not being a real Mech, doesn't take offense to it in any way.

“Did I interrupt something dramatic?”

Prowl snorts, because the gesture maintains just the right amount of judgment for his situation.

“Orion is once again harboring a monster instead of killing it or letting it escape.”

This news immediately enlivens Shockwave's posture. Prowl knows he's an even bigger fan of collecting suspicious side projects than Orion. Their friendship, frankly, will one day bury either one or both of them. Prowl just hopes his presence will be enough to sway the percentages when that happens.

Orion doesn't try to deny anything.

“One of my squads encountered a ghost near the northern border. I couldn't... listen Shockwave, he's a good guy. He just needs to be given a chance to show it.”

“Can he talk?” there's almost visible stars in Shockwave's eyes..

Prowl slumps his shoulders helplessly, already knowing what's coming next. These two have done this dance a hundred times before. One of Shockwave's favorite side projects was a school for, as they called them, magically gifted and extraordinary Mechs. In fact, it was the largest den of various monsters that Prowl had ever seen. Every time Orion's hunting squads found a monster that could even remotely resemble a normal Mech, Orion would rush with happy optics to hand it over to Shockwave for care. There, the monsters were taught everything they needed to fit into the society of normal Mechs, but more importantly, they were given documents. Precious pieces of paper that granted their holders rights, freedoms, and protections as Shockwave's apprentices.

Prowl could appreciate the noble endeavor. He could also see clearly that with each addition, this school would become more and more of an inconvenient thorn in the Council's side. Just like Orion, Shockwave was happy to paint a brighter and brighter target on his own back for many cycles.

Orion, insensitive to danger that is not immediate, cheerfully begins to recite

“Can read, write, speak, even makes music.”

Shockwave nods happily

“Introduce us?”

Prowl wonders how far Shockwave can stretch the definition of “magically gifted Mech”. One day Orion will pick up a Kraken on the street and then they'll both probably have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to make it's documents. Ugh.

When Orion had asked him to calculate the probability of betrayal, the most reliable mech he was evaluating at the time was Shockwave.

Twenty-eight percent...

Prowl wonders how many students must be on the opposite side of the scale from Orion for Shockwave to choose in their favor. Speculation is actually useless. If the Council decides to nail Shockwave, they will of course use his entire school at once.

In fact, they probably won't even have to force Shockwave to choose between the school and Orion, because Orion himself will choose a bunch of monsters over himself.

This ridiculously dangerous social construct they call friendship rests entirely on their reputation as honest and honorable mechs. Prowl stares at Shockwave's back and wonders how one mech could have so much charisma, that he gets away with keeping a huge number of Council enemies right under the noses of that same Council.

_________________

Orion gently lifts the now graying shell of what was once a monster from the ground

He doesn't even turn toward Prowl.

"Did you kill him?"

Killing...it's a stretch. Does the act of helping a murderer qualify as murder? Or the lack of action that could have saved the now murdered person? In most cultures and languages, “murder” refers to the act of ending someone else's life, but the context implies a physical act. Did you put a knife in his back? Did you push him off a cliff? Did you cut him with a sword?

By those criteria. Well. Prowl never killed anyone. Nor is he likely to, for he has neither the skill nor the strength to do so.

Did he cause death? Absolutely.

Orion's always had this heroic streak that wouldn't let him just pass by the distressed and disadvantaged. Orion has always had a great spark of kindness and principles as strong as titanium alloy as to what is right and what is wrong.

In Orion's world view, murder is wrong. And murder in conditions where it was possible to solve everything by peace is immoral and unacceptable.

Prowl's worldview tells him that Orion could do much better if he stopped wasting his potential on helping those who will only drag him down in the long run. Orion's life depends entirely on the Council's opinion of him. A Council that has been watching him closely lately. Even if Orion doesn't like it, it's Prowl's job to make sure they like what they see.

Orion turns to him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Prowl. That mech tried to escape. Past you. And now he's dead. Were you the one who killed him?"

"No," says Prowl, "he ran into one of the patrols."

That statement is missing a good half of the details. Like mentioning that the patrol wouldn't have been there in the first place if Prowl hadn't sent them an anonymous lead.

Orion doesn't need to know that. Orion lives under the idea that every life is precious and, even more inconveniently, equal.

Prowl sometimes feels like yelling at him for it. Because that shiny perfect picture is simply unsustainable outside of Orion's head. The monster, whose graying body now lies on the ground, would be of little use to society. Likely left free, he would have simply continued to attack and kill travelers.

Whereas Orion spends his life making the world a better place. This is an objective fact confirmed by numerous observations.

They are not equals. And they probably never will be. Orion's life is much. Much heavier on the imaginary scales of statistics.

Orion squints at him suspiciously. He's clearly hesitant.

"You could have just let him go instead of killing him."

The trap is honestly too obvious.

"I didn't kill him" Prowl repeats "he ran into a patrol. You can't blame the hunters for doing their job."

Orion places a hand on the dead creature's forehead in a respectful gesture of regret while simultaneously averting his gaze. It's a habit by now.

Look the other way, don't let the council know what you're doing. Sympathize but not in plain sight, help but in secret.

"They had no right to attack him.This is neutral territory. He has the right to run wherever he wants."

Prowl's mouth is twisting with the urge to argue. To say that according to existing information, this monster would have just continued the attacks if he'd stayed free.

He says nothing. Orion is clearly in no mood to argue right now, and he's already questioning Prowl's claim. It's not worth pushing any further.

Prowl only nods, showing that he's heard Orion's point of view.

__________________

He is surprisingly good at lying.

Of course the skill doesn't just come naturally, but he's been known for his straightforwardness. Mechs automatically expect him to either remain silent or tell the unpleasant truth.

All he has to do is give only certain bits and pieces instead of coherent information without changing his usual behavior in any way and the mechs won't be inclined to verify it, filling in the gaps themselves. As a golem, he can't lie, but he can get others to lie to themselves.

He exploits this a lot. Probably more often than Orion would approve, but Prowl doesn't ask him to confirm. Conversations with Orion tend to narrow down his list of options. Because Orion is a real living mech. With a spark. With feelings. And his complex moral code revolves entirely around what he feels to be right.

Prowl has no spark. Prowl has an empty armor that he considers his body and a wisdom artifact that he considers his worth. Both his and Orion's understandings of what is right...overlap...sometimes.

Not always.

______________

"I saw a demon in person for the first time today."

Prowl politely shifts his posture to show he's listening

"A …demon?"

"Demon" Orion repeats "When...when a mech commits especially terrible crimes against the will of Primus, the very magic of their spark rises up against them and turns them into a demon. And I just learned today what a...demon looks like."

Prowl remains silent, waiting for a continuation that never comes. Orion seems gone in his thoughts....

"And what does it look like?" prompts Prowl.

"Creepy. It looks creepy and unnatural and terrifying. Primus' wrath has a very ugly shape..."

"Ah...I see...what did that mech do to be met with such punishment?"

Orion frowns

"I'm not sure. But what we're doing can't go against Primus' will, right? I mean, all beings are his creations! He can't condemn us for trying to make peace between mechs and monsters..."

Prowl is familiar with the concept of punishment for wrongdoing. But something about the very idea...the idea that punishment will find you no matter how well you hide because you can’t run away from your own spark...he has to admit it's disturbing.

"I hope he doesn't."

——————————

Thoughts?👁

Ahsjfjfj

This is the first half of the fic btw because I don’t have enough time to translate the whole thing in one day. I’ll try to post the second half tomorrow🤞

[urgardenandmine]

good little boy ❆ - s. park (pt. i)

summary: sunghoon is a major fuckboy (emphasis on fuck) with a camera kink ⚠️‼️WARNING: strong language and this work is like NASTY (by tinashe) so read if you are able to handle dirty stuff⚠️‼️ genre: dirty and NASTY (NSFW) pairing: m!reader x park sunghoon word count: 2.8K

requested by @acidangel-fromasia

“look who came crawling back…”

the voice immediately gave you a headache, yet he wasn’t wrong. i mean you were now on his doorstep, wearing your decorated crocs, your camo-green sweats and a baggy black hoodie. you grumbled softly, staring at the man in front of you who wore nothing but his grey sweatpants and flashed his chiseled body. he had no care for who saw him, though probably no one did as it was the morning and everyone was now at work in school.

as you two stared at one another, being dumb college students, you both had nothing to do in your free time. you could be studying or maybe even just going to the gym and catch up on working out since class has made things out of whack for you but you decided to answer a stupid booty call from a jerk wad (who knew how to make you c-). 

the very attractive man, sunghoon, eyed you up and down. he pouted, stepping closer to you as he wrapped his arms around your waist as he looked into your eyes. he tilted his head, whining.

“aw, love~, you aren’t wearing your choker.” he stated, causing you to look away as the tip of your ears began to feel warmer. you didn’t want to give into his cute antics, just wanted some good pounding then leave. you got stiff, making sure he couldn’t lower your guard because every time you did, all you ended up with was trust issues and even more piled on. sighing, you gently removed his arms from you and glared up at him. 

“i don’t wanna wear that, park.” you spat back, causing him to whine even more as he slouched and pressed his forehead against yours. the mention of his last name caused him to feel a bit fiery inside, hearing how the boy who grips the sheets under him was gaining a backbone. sunghoon chuckled softly as he stood up right and kissed your temple, before wrapping his hand around your neck. you gulped softly, feeling his digits slightly dig on where they met your neck. he removed your hoodie, revealing your freshly washed fluffy hair and grazed his teeth on your ear.

“i guess this will have to work…” he whispered, before biting your ear softly. you tried to hold back your feelings of immense attraction yet it was evident you were getting a bit stiffer somewhere else. removing his veined, warm hands from your throat, he smiled and leaned against his door frame. exhaling happily, he smiled at you as he took in the sight in front of him. in front of him, he saw a hot and bothered fuck toy who he couldn’t wait to strip and just ruin. 

“well, come on in! why don’t we get comfortable.” he inviting teased, grabbing your hands as he led you into his house. you and sunghoon were both students who commuted and both lived at  home. the fun thing though was that his parents were rarely home, so he had the place all to himself. you took in the sight of his living room, seeing the usual couch and the coffee table. what was new was the notebooks on the table, which was weird as you knew sunghoon to be the type of boy to never study since. only time you ever saw him study was when he tried to get your attention from school and it worked, considering this is your dozen time being here in a month. 

following sunghoon up to his room, you took a small breath to prepare yourself for what was about to happen. in reality, sunghoon was a great bed partner. you couldn’t remember a time when he gave you a rough pounding or a sensual one to where you couldn’t walk. as much as you didn’t want to, you were always screaming his name and always scratching his back to where his friends thought he had a secret girlfriend. though in reality, sunghoon was the typical DL guy who just knew how to use his tool. 

walking into his room, you were met with the blinds drawn yet the sheer blinds left over the windows, letting in some light and not too much for people to see the mess about to be made in a couple minutes. his bed sheets were the usual navy blue silk linen, while his pillows were a dark blue and white flannel pattern. the rest of the room was dark, the only light source being the window. sunghoon stood by the door, letting you in to get situated as he chuckled and spanked you gently. you jumped a bit, looking back at him as you groaned. closing the door behind him, he slowly slinked off his sweats to reveal his black boxers. you looked back and saw his bulge, blushing as you rolled your eyes and stuck your hands in the hem of your sweatpants before you felt a hand grab yours, stopping you. 

looking over your shoulder, you saw sunghoon smile as he kissed your cheek and then had you take your hands out. he turned you around, lifting your chin with his soft hands as he planted his coral lips onto yours. closing your eyes, he kissed gently before turning it into a whole make out session. within a second, he wrapped both arms around your waist again as he rubbed his now solid bulge against yours, eliciting soft moans from you both as you had your arms around his neck. sunghoon began to bite your lips, moving down to your neck leaving marks, regardless of the pain he brought you. you whimpered, head rolling back as he then licked his bite marks. chuckling softly, sunghoon then pushed you onto the bed. 

crashing onto the bed, you looked down to see him now slowly undressing you. feeling the soft cotton slowly slide down your legs, you began to feel sunghoon kiss your thighs as he got closer to your clothed throbbing member. shivering, you tried to push him off you as he then glared at you, swiping your hand away as he bit your thigh gently. while on his knees, sunghoon slowly brought one hand down into his boxers and began to slowly tease himself as he teased you. 

sunghoon took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your body wash and you yourself. feeling impatient, sunghoon then used his one free hand and slowly yanked off your own boxers, seeing your rock hard dick spring into the air. though you yourself weren’t the biggest, you were palatable. sunghoon smirked, looking at you as he then used both hands and slinked both arms under your thighs, propping you up as he brought his mouth closer to your pulsing member. feeling his breath reach your tip and more, you closed your eyes and felt embarrassed as you had never seen this side of him. well, you have but you don’t remember much. seeing you not look at him, sunghoon pinched your thighs and caused you to squeak a bit. you looked down and saw him glaring at you.

“look at me, bitch.” sunghoon demanded, before having his tongue lick your tip. gulping, you made sure to make eye contact with the brown eyed boy. sunghoon took a small breath, trying to pace himself. he wanted to enjoy how he was going to ruin you. one thing about sunghoon being a fuckboy was he was a fun one, as he knew how to make sure you got close to the edge but never finished before him. looking up at you, sunghoon then engulfed your whole dick into his warm, wet mouth before moaning around you, sending vibrations throughout your lower member. you groaned, arching your back as you were sensitive. being the usual submissive person in most situations, you were barely tasted down there. with sunghoon, he owned every part of you and wanted to make sure you knew only he could make you feel this good. 

he began to bob his head up and down, his eyes now closed as he began to slobber all over your crotch as your dick hit the back of his warm throat. though sunghoon was strictly a top and you had rarely gotten head, to you both, it felt perfect with one another. though sunghoon had multiple bodies and people to choose from, he chose you every day and when he couldn’t, he didn’t mind whipping out his cock to jerk and send you videos throughout the day till you caved in. 

as sunghoon bobbed up and down, he slowly removed his mouth and began to lap at your balls, causing you to shake and hold onto his head. he saw you biting your lip and trying not to be too loud, making him annoyed. in retaliation, he began to suck on your balls, causing you to let out a loud and long moan as he smirked and then spat on your cock, stroking you softly. 

“f-fuck! sunghoon~.” you whimpered, causing him to smirk as he then removed his hand. he then lifted you up gently, seeing your hole now in front of him. in an instant, sunghoon began to kiss that area as you moaned. having both arms hold you up, he began to devour you as he moaned into your opening. you gripped the bed sheets, the silk ruffling into your hands. sunghoon then removed one hand, staring at the puckering hole in front of him as you could see his face covered in spit. he laughed, spitting on you as he then ran a finger onto you. as you looked at him, you were met with the eyes of a boy who wanted to drag you to heaven and back. slipping a finger into you, sunghoon moaned as he entered you. moaning loudly, you threw your head back as he began to stir your insides.

after what seemed to be a year of teasing (when in reality it was possibly only fifteen minutes) of sunghoon’s fingers inside your warm insides, he was now matching his tip against your hole. as you were ready to brace yourself, you heard a small beep and click. looking at him, you saaw sunghoon holding your leg and now a camcorder in his hand. bunching up your hoodie and covering your privates, sunghoon looked down at you. 

“what’s wrong little pet, shy?” he teased, spanking you as you whined softly. 

“just wondering what’s that for…” you asked, scared of upsetting him. whenever he was angry, he fucked your brains out till you were a rambling mess. sunghoon smiled, turning on the camera as he then angled it to your face and held your face in his hand. he then bent down and kissed you sloppily, moaning into your mouth as his tongue slipped into your mouth. pulling away, he showed the camera your flushed face as he grinned from ear to ear.

“just something for me to watch later, bunny. don’t be shy.” he reassured, standing back up and then pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. he slapped his hard cock onto yours, making you feel needy for it. he then tugged on your hoodie, signaling he wanted this off immediately. understanding his signal, you sat up and removed your hoodie, tossing it off to the side. he inhaled deeply, breathing slowly as he panned the camera to your body and ran a hand down your body. 

“look at my little fuck toy…” he trailed, rubbing his hard eight inch cock against your skin. setting the camera near your head, he then made sure he was in frame as he grabbed a condom and some lube. though sunghoon was rough, he wasn’t careless with you or his health. though his other partners and him were always safe and clean, sunghoon did a little more for you. he made sure he shaved, didn’t smell and as well, made sure the mood was just right. there was music playing in the back yet it wasn’t too loud as the only music he chose to listen to was your grunts and whines. along with that, he had lit a scented candle you mentioned was your favorite when you two had first met. 

grabbing your thighs and placing them around his waist, sunghoon bent down, his face close to yours as he stroked his lubed and covered cock. he lined up his dick with your hole, licking his lips as he saw how needy you were yet were trying to cover it up. he rolled his eyes, kissing you gently as he then slipped his tip in. sucking in a breath, you winced as sunghoon slowly made his way into you. not pushing any further, letting you get used to his girth once more, he lubed up his hand and began to stroke you slowly. you moaned, looking up at sunghoon. he closed his eyes, listening deeply to your noises. 

as he continued to stroke you, he began to push a little deeper in. though it hurt a bit, it felt amazing as sunghoon’s soft and now slick hands  were tugging on your hard cock. as he was halfway in, sunghoon began to kiss your neck. feeling him in you, it was a feeling you missed. you found yourself playing with your back door a lot more frequently ever since you guys began hooking up and it felt like nothing. as he was halfway inside you, you could feel the veins throbbing and how full you were. sunghoon groaned, feeling himself slip into your warm hole. kissing your neck as well as he stroked you, sunghoon then pushed himself in slowly all the way. whining, you wrapped your arms around his burly shoulders. he laughed softly, leaving a small hickey. 

after being adjusted to him, he began to move without any notice. your eyes widened, as you began to let out a string of moans as he began to do shallow strokes. you closed your eyes, feeling sunghoon throb as he began to pump you gently. turning your head towards his neck, he could feel you breathe onto him. lifting his lips from your neck, your eyes locked. in the next second, you began locking lips and making a mess of one another’s lips. 

after five minutes of slow strokes, sunghoon then placed his hands onto the sides of your ass as he began to thrust deeper and harder. 

“fuck! sunghoon!” you yelped, feeling him hit your prostate in an instant. since you two were constant fuck buddies, sunghoon knew you better than you knew yourself. smirking to himself, he looked into the camera and began to demolish your hole. being taller, he rested his head on top of yours as his chin was on your crown. as he stared into the camera, he moaned and smiled at the sight before him. he saw your legs wrapped around him as the bed was shaking. reaching over to grab the camera, he then lifted himself enough to film your face that was filled with lust and pleasure.

“good little faggot, take my cock.” he groaned, shoving it harder to where you began to shake. 

“good fucking slut~.” sunghoon sang, spitting on your face as he then took his other fingers and shoved it into your mouth. you began to suck on them instinctively, making sunghoon happy as he ruined your insides to the point where you were gripping the sheets once again. sunghoon held the camera and began to thrust into you like there was no tomorrow, grinning once more as he could feel how loose you were getting.

bringing one hand to your throat, sunghoon then began to choke you slightly. he knew it wasn’t your favorite but he loved the sight of seeing you under him and whining.

“look at my bitch with his choker. fucking perfect.” the taller man huffed out. changing the pace of his thrusts, sunghoon then slowed down and began to do deeper strokes. he pulled out till only his tip was left inside, then ramming it in. as he did so, he had elicited a loud whine from you, filling the room with only your moans and his deep low grunts. your hands began to hold onto his arm as he choked you, feeling something soon pooling in your lower area. 

“oh, f-fuck! fuck, fuck!” you rambled, arching your back as you came all over yourself. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat, smiling as he then filmed your shaking legs and what seemed to be your never ending cumshot. he filmed a closeup of your hard cock trembling, as it spewed it’s milk.

setting down the camera, he slowed down his thrusts as he then sped up. he gripped one leg with his other free arm, still choking you as he then pressed his forehead against yours. 

“god, fucking love you, [y/n].” he mumbled, before he got back to fucking your brains out.

and he continued to do so, till you painted his sheets and yourself white and made yourself wetter than ever. sunghoon kept the camera rolling, forgetting it was ever there as he lost himself in you…

⋆｡°✩

dis shit is LONG

sorry if it got rushed at the end but SURPRISE, this is a two-parter

hope y'all enjoy my first ever smut/nsfw story!

[eyelambspider]

♡ Cocktail Parties || Ghost

⤷ summary : (fem!version) arguing with you right before an undercover op wasn't... the smartest, because now he has to watch you flirt with strangers. link to male!reader version!

┊pairing : simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader (dress wearing reader), tf 141 mentioned ┊content warning : (un)established relationship (you can choose), jealousy, anger, slight angst, suggestive, arguments, mentions of drinking/alcohol, men & women flirt with reader ┊word count : 1.5 k ┊a/n : ashgfhsgjg j- nothing- :)

The night was still young, on the crest of dipping into the rich gala that embodied upper-class society: Women and men alike danced in a whirl of sequins, satin and silk. Flaunting bubbling flutes of champagne and pretty lies. Bodies, throats, and wrists fitted snuggly and dripping in diamonds.

It was truly a party for the top one-percent of society. The extravagant guestlist filled to the brim with cold business moguls, old money, the famous, and the beautiful. Each bumping shoulders with glittery laughs and white smiles.

It gave Ghost a headache. Watching through the lenses of his binoculars as the crystal chandeliers glinted off the marble ballroom and directly into his retinas.

The operation had only 'officially' started merely an hour ago. The moment your shiny shoes kissed the floors below. And Ghost had come into it pissed.

Coiled up tighter than a snake and twice as twitchy, just a hair's breadth away from lashing out at the first thing that interrupted his brooding.

Price and the others had noticed, but decided not to comment on the Lieutenants hard-set jaw and his white knuckle death grip on the binoculars.

The three remaining member of Taskforce 141 exchanged knowing glances. Each of them knew it.

The two of you had fought before this.

About what? Nobody was going to ask. Not with him silently seething and muttering curses over the comms like a dreary static.

To say they were utterly relieved to be positioned away from him was an understatement. Eager to give the Lieutenant his space.

It left Ghost to his own thoughts, propped on the roof of the venue, looming over the edge of the intricately crafted glass dome like an ominous shadow. Giving him the perfect opportunity to watch over you-the Taskforce's trump card-as you gathered information on the ground and mingled.

Tonight, the collective mission was to get close to the target. To pick up information on most of the guests here, even a little. Each guest having their hands in less-than-legal business ventures. One man in particular... DeLuca or some asshole-ish name along the lines... who cared.

Ghost had something more important on his mind tonight.

He hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd stepped foot in the building. The sight of you was enough to punch a hole clean through his chest and leave him burning up on the edges.

You walked the floor like you owned it, had to make sure of it to blend in with such an elegant crowd. A grin pulling at your lips, dripping with a natural charm that made hearts flutter. Eyes turning kindly towards whoever spoke to you or tried to catch your attention. Returning needy, simmering glances with a coy, knowing tense in your shoulders.

That was it. He was going to break these stupid fucking binoculars clean in half-

but ffuck-! He couldn't!

It would leave him without a way to watch you properly.

Ghost grit his teeth instead, suddenly forgetting to breathe under all the tension that was building up in his muscles. His legs were stiff. The one he was knelt on completely numb from the position, and his biceps were locked in a fierce bundle of (what he was convinced could only be) residual anger from your fight.

You moved through the fray of millionaires with a casualness that alluded confidence. Not afraid to gently part through the mass of high maintenance bodies and figures in a bid to get closer to the target on the other side of the ballroom. It caught the attention of those around you in a way that didn't bother the Captain, but rather, the Lieutenant.

The patrons of the party not looking with suspicion... but desire. A desire to know the woman who was walking with a quiet purpose and without a second glance back at them. When their time was worth thousands... you seemed to spare not a second on them.

Ghost couldn't even remember what the two of you had been fighting about. The entire gist of the argument flying out of his head as he watched. They all looked at you like they had a fucking chance in hell with you. It made his blood boil. The sounds of his contempt catching over the comms. "Fucking-... bloody b-... always-..."

Women with dark made-up lashes let their gazes fall over you as you passed, offering tiny giggles. Men trying to step into your path 'accidentally' and introduce themselves. Vying for your attention, or at least, your name.

Ghost had been so caught up in the fight. So angry and refusing to be anything less than right that he hadn't seen you since earlier today. Had missed the way you had gotten ready for the operation-for the party.

You had cleaned up well. Hair trimmed and styled neatly, a few locks dropping tantalizingly near your temple. And... "fuck me" Ghost muttered inaudibly... Your black dress fit your body like a dream. Sleek and elegant, enhancing the curves of your shoulders and chest, sinched to a fault at the waist.

Ghost felt a heat begin to bloom over his body and trickle down to the swell in his pants. Drinking in and savoring the sight of you even if he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. His brown eyes followed your silhouette, eye wandering down the soft curve of your hip and the slit in your dress that revealed the supple skin of your thigh... The sleek fabric made your legs look...

Fuck, you were beautiful.

He shook his head and grumbled some more, still trying to huff in defiance of how he felt. Even if he was still heated, it was for an entirely different reason now.

Within range of the target, you stopped just short of Deluca's social circle by picking up a bubbling flute of champagne to avert suspicion. Before you could even pretend to bring the rim of the glass up to your lips, a woman's hand clasped gently over your shoulder, running over the fine fabric of your dress with a perfectly manicured caress. A soft, sharp smile dancing across her lips as she stepped in front of you, inviting herself into your space seamlessly. Her hand lingering and trailing down your bicep before she pulled it away.

Ghosts gloves creaked in protest again as he gripped his binoculars tighter. Watching her eyes rover over your face, tracing your jawline with a bone-deep confidence in herself. Had Ghost been down there, no one would lay a hand on you like that. No one would even be able to fucking shoot you a longing glance.

The man who accompanied her followed, debonair and smoky, reaching out a strong hand to shake yours in greeting. He bowed his head, gripping your hand subtly and leaning forward in order to steal a more intimate glance. His eyes flickering down to your lips before a grin pulled at his cheek and he stepped back.

The two making easy conversation with you.

"That cocky fucking bastard," Ghost seethed, attention zeroing in on the walking trust fund in front of you.

It was part of the operation. He had to tell himself that to keep his fucking head on straight.

You were in the best spot to pick up chatter from the target behind you. Indulging in laughs with people who had learned how to carry one without a second thought.

And there wasn't a fucking thing Ghost could do about it except watch. The way people teased and flirted so openly with you, stealing touches and glances. Drinking you in like the sparkling bubbles they held flawlessly between their fingers. All haughty gazes and blatant interest.

It made Ghost's stomach and chest roil with disgust. A deep heat settling over his body. The anger that once simmered in his veins was now laced with an even uglier emotion: unbridled jealousy.

No. After this fucking farce of an operation was over and you were back with the team... He was going to find you. Fuck-! you were his the moment you stepped out of this building.

The thought made his body flutter with rage and lust. The idea of having you alone now, in that dress of yours and all to himself, was a dangerous one.

You were going to get an ear full after this... fuck, maybe more. The image of his own hands running over your dress flashing into his mind. Hiking your leg over his waist, kissing you until your pretty hair was disheveled and your dress rumpled under his hands.

Those rich pricks would get an eye full of you now-let them-because he was going to be the only one to see you writhing and blushing beneath him at the end of the night.

[luiluvr]

college! luigi struck down by a cold during finals week and still trying to keep up with school, ta stuff, frat stuff etc and reader urging him to rest and take care of himself and practically forcing him onto the couch with tea <333

I LOVE THIS 😓😓❤️

WARNINGS: none! just affection and luigi being sick, mentions of Y/N

Luigi was always persistent in his work, he was incredibly dedicated and prompt with deadlines; especially in college. Only problem: he’s too dedicated. He would make sure his work is accomplished even if the world was ending.

So when a casual cold that everyone was inevitably getting during the winter semester, you found yourself trying to encourage him to take a break. The first day he had symptoms and felt under the weather: “I’m fine, it’s just a headache and runny nose. I’ll take something before bed and I’ll wake up feeling better.”

His words against yours you suppose.

Your classes were a lot earlier than his, so naturally you woke up way before him. You made yourself a to-go cup of coffee, gathered your bag and headed out. The two of you lived in different dorms; but they were across the hall from one another, which meant you saw each other all the time.

The day was normal, nothing of interest, you got through your morning class and a lengthy final, you were grateful to get it out of the way. You were on your way to a meeting with some other students about one of the support groups, there were usually two held during the day, you preferred attending the early one since there’s no classes during. On your way, you decided to drop in on Luigi, he was just barely waking up and getting around. Sluggishly. Very slowly.

You loved him but he looked like death. He stood at the small kitchen counter, a very.. yucky cough escapes his mouth. “You sound lovely.” You say as you set your bag down on a chair and watch him, he groans and mutters something inaudible. “I feel fantastic too.” He says back.

“So much for feeling better, hm?” You state a little cockily, he just glares at you. It’s funny but you also feel bad about it, his dark brown eyes are glossed over, his beard stubble was growing back on his jawline and chin; which he always hated and tried to maintain. His nose was getting red around the nostril where he would wipe and blow. Somehow, even in sickness the asshole managed to look cute. He just seemed laggy, not all there but also, too present. His ears hurt, they popped every time he drank from his water bottle. “Shut up.” He murmurs.

“You should stay here, get rest.” You say, tiptoeing to reach into a cupboard and get the box of elderberry tea out. It was nasty but it always helped when you were sick, so you bought some for Luigi. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that! I have finals all this week, plus a frat meeting Wednesday, which is really important, Y/N!” He was trying to be stern and get his words out quick, but he ended up just coughing excessively, rubbing his temple. Annoyed — almost.

“Jeez, Lu, I know this week is the worst to get sick during but you gotta focus on your health too, ya’know.” You say.

“I do know, but I already checked… I’m not running a fever so I’ll take a Tylenol later for my headache and some cough syrup before I leave. I have a two different exams today in calculus and algorithms, on top of that I’m the one planning the frat meeting, and quite frankly I haven’t really done much for it. I have no idea where it’s even going to be held this week.” He sighs and plops down on a chair.

“You’re overworking yourself, Lu. It’s catching up to you and now you’re sick.”

“It has nothing to do with it, sweetheart.” He says in that tone — you sigh, “I’m not gonna force you, but you need to rest. I’m fine with helping you plan whatever it is you need help with. However, I’m sure the other fraternity members would understand you needing to cancel and reschedule. It’s going all around, even a few of my professors had to cancel classes for the week.” Of course, he was stubborn and did it his way. Men never listen.

You went on to attend your last couple of classes and take the finals, Luigi forced himself to go Monday and Tuesday. Some of his friends came up and told you about his stubbornness in classes when the professor confronted him about not feeling well. As a teacher’s assistant, he resisted and insisted he was fine. Obviously everyone else didn’t think so because he had to sit away from other students as to not spread the bug.

As the week progressed he became more loopy, while you checked in on him daily, you finally decided to put your foot down. “Luigi Nicholas Mangione, you are staying in this dorm and you are resting. I don’t care if I have to strap you to that bed, I already canceled the fraternity meeting, a few of the members are sick as well and your professors are willing to reschedule a day for you to take the finals.”

He sat there, listening to you, his legs hung over the edge of his bed, looking more pale, his red nose had worsened and he trembled from being cold yet simultaneously overheated. His room was unusually messy, his clothes he’d worn the past few days was tossed around, he slept shirtless and there was an attempt to get tissue in the trashcan, but he wasn’t a basketball player. They were scattered lazily.

“But it’s only two finals, I don’t have any tomorrow or Friday,” He starts but you cut him off. “No, Luigi. I’m serious-” He pushes by you. “I’m fine, I just need to take my medicine for the morning.” You roll your eyes, following him into the other part of the dorm.

“Sit down.” You say firmly, you never use a really stern or somewhat harsh tone with him. You don’t like it. He glances at you as he stands awkwardly, shifting his tall figure. “But…”

“No, you heard me. Sit on the couch.”

He grumbles and finally sits on the small gray-colored couch, folding his arms like a toddler. You heat up water in a coffee maker and get the elderberry baggies for the tea he clearly hasn’t been drinking.

He’s been achy from doing so much, his body was tired. His back had been sore for a couple of weeks now and this cold didn’t help. You give him a blanket and bring him his laptop to watch TV on, then you set the mug on a coaster atop an inn table beside him. He feels a little defeated but he can’t deny he likes being tended to. Especially by you.

“There. Not so bad is it?” You question and he looks up at you innocently. What a stupid pretty boy. “Well, I’m not entirely against you taking care of me.” He flutters his long lashes. You chuckle and gently sit across from him. At this point in the relationship, you two never cared if the other was sick, he would lay with you, kiss you and care for you every time you were sick; even if it wasn’t solely an immune system sickness.

You pull him over into your embrace, he lays his head on your chest. His muscular arm tucks around you, making sure to pull up and share the throw blanket. He smiles and gazes up to you.

It’s cute seeing him with his beard growing out and rosy cheeks. Although you could do without the snotty and congested part; his feverish body kept you warm. You return with a cheeky grin and gently place a little kiss on his chapped lips. “You need some chapstick, Lu.” You murmured against them.

“I know. I lost the one I had.”

“How? You just bought it a couple weeks ago.”

“I don’t keep track of everything.”

You shake your head, tracing little patterns across his back with your fingertip. He leans over for a minute, sort of sitting up and lifts the mug with tea to take a big sip. His face contorts, you knew how funny elderberry tasted. It wasn’t the best. You laugh at his reaction, “That’s…disgusting.” He says quietly, “Yeah, but it helps.” He nodded, “Thanks for.. Helping me.” He lays his head down, burying his face in your chest once more.

“That’s what I’m here for. Next time you should really listen and rest.” He tilts his head back and itches his neck, “Yeah, yeah… You’re right. As always.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You say, eliciting laughter out of you both, before you let out a hefty sneeze. “Bless you.” Luigi says, reaching up to brush hair from your head. His thumb traces down your cheek; you sneezed again, this time it inflicted an immediate headache. Great.

He knew the inevitable had caught you too. You give him an unamused look, Luigi grins and stares back up at you.

“Welcome to the club, sweetheart.”

[slytherinshua]

➷　CUPID SOCIETY PT.2　( 엔시티 위시 )

      summary . . . nct wish maknae line as cupids in training!!

genre fluff , cupid au , headcanons , nct wish maknae line x reader   cw ryo is a menace™️ as usual , food mention , cheek kiss in saku's , not proofread   wc 946   request no   note so apparently my brain got to work faster than i expected hehe so here's the maknae line ones!! hyung line version here   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

KIM DAEYOUNG ﾐ 김대영

there aren’t many cupids on campus that use their magic through music

although a long-lasting form of love spells were through song, there’s barely a single cupid who knows how to perform the type of magic

daeyoung is one of the few still fascinated by the form

through the rich notes of a song or the gentle tone of notes on a piano

when done just right, one’s magic could flow through the music 

and love could blossom forth right from the song

while other students focused on the accuracy of their arrows, brewing new potions, or cooking their magic into new recipes, daeyoung is cooped up in the music room

there’s only one piano left in the school

one that had been around and preserved for generations

whenever the boy plays it, he can feel the lingering magic of many cupids before him

the ability to charm anyone who heard his song

the satisfaction it brings to hear such beautiful melodies produced through the keys and his magic flowing in harmony

it captures daeyoung’s very soul

the music room soon became his 

all the teachers know he is the only student who ever plays the piano

the only one who ever spends time in the old room

while the campus is teeming with young rambunctious cupids, there’s one quiet boy who keeps to himself and his music

but one day as he’s on his way to the piano after lunch, his usual routine, he hears the melody of a song from the end of the hallway

curious, daeyoung creeps closer

he’d never met another cupid who played an instrument

but as he peers through the window of the room, he sees you seated at the piano, picking out a simple melody

and there he stays, listening to you play

a smile growing on his face and his heart starting to pound unknowingly 

maybe song magic wasn’t as forgotten as daeyoung had thought

and maybe he was starting to feel the effects of such magic on himself 

HIROSE RYO ﾐ 廣瀬遼

ryo has a reputation at the cupid society

he’s the master trickster, the ultimate jokester, the unrivaled menace on campus

and you? you’re his famed sidekick

best friends, inseparable, and equally as known for getting into trouble

there’s nothing ryo loves more than to see the teachers get headaches from all his shenanigans 

and the best part?

you and him always seem to get away with it

with your quick wits and unlimited connections through students, you have your ways of gaining endless entertainment 

with all the cupid magic around, it’s a given that the young students around will want to explore their abilities

and after seeing some of the more experienced cupids make people fall in love with them at will, you decide you also want to try

ryo gets in on it as well and it becomes a friendly competition with a bet on the line 

who can make someone fall in love with them with their cupid magic first?

although the idea is simple, the process proves difficult for ryo

especially with his beginner cupid magic, still in his second year of training

his spells go wrong, his potions blow up in his face, and his arrows all seem to miss

but he’s not one to give up yet

the entire school has heard about the bet by now 

with everyone on their guard it becomes even harder to find someone to make fall in love with him

each student he approaches just dismisses him

and the amount of protective charms against love cast around him is off the charts high

maybe he just needs someone who doesn’t expect it

so ryo decides that he’ll make you fall in love with him

and it seems like his plan was genius

you, totally unsuspecting, fall right into ryo’s love magic

the boy wins the bet and the secrets to love all in one day

FUJINAGA SAKUYA ﾐ 藤永咲哉

within the first week of his attendance this boy somehow manages to get multiple love bites snuck into his food

the effects of them upon consumption were immediate

except usually when one eats a love candy, their feelings manifest for a single person

the problem sakuya has is he has no idea who he is in love with

he ate too many at once

the symptoms are there: the racing heart, the flushed cheeks, the stammering, the butterflies

he feels like he’s in love but the feelings aren’t associated with anyone at all

you, being sakuya’s close friend, have no choice but to search for a solution to his problem along with ryo

with a little research from the library, you diagnose sakuya to be lovesick

overdosed on love candies and now the symptoms are overwhelming, refusing to go away

and while it was a funny turn of events at first, it gets tiring fast

especially to saku who would do anything to get his heart to stop racing all the time :(

you and ryo decide to try possible cures

from solitary confinement to trying to get sakuya to actually fall in love, nothing seemed to work

until one day when you had a brilliant idea taken straight from all the classic old fairy tales

a kiss

ryo, of course refusing to kiss his best friend, throws the task to you while sakuya sits there flustered the entire time

you muster yourself to press a kiss to his cheek

you didn’t expect it to work, and neither did ryo or sakuya

but the indicators of his condition seem to slowly fade away

not completely, but at least to a manageable amount 

the new problem is, now sakuya can’t stop thinking about the kiss

nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@lilly-cherry7,, @kpopandbookschild,, @taroddori,, @lexeees,, @voikiraz,,

@xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @yvshi

[nilla03]

𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑥'

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡：𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑢𝑝 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑏𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑛！

Jean Kirstein wasn't just your baby's father

—he was the man who ran things. Tall, broad, dressed in crisp button-ups with the sleeves rolled up to show off his expensive watch and strong forearms, he always had this aura about him. He walked into a room, and people listened. He spoke, and people jumped.

And you? You were his spoiled little headache.

Not his wife-you never married-but that never seemed to stop him from acting like he owned you

Jean barely had time to look up from the stack of papers on his desk before your voice cut through the quiet of his office.

“Kirstein, are you fucking serious?”

The door slammed shut behind you, your heels clicking furiously as you stormed toward his desk. Dressed in a sleek, black midi dress that hugged every curve just right, paired with strappy heels that only made you look more intimidating, you looked every bit like the spoiled, pissed-off mother of his child. Your gold jewelry caught the light as you crossed your arms, glare sharp enough to cut through him.

Jean leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, already knowing exactly what this was about.

“Let me explain—��

“You forgot to pick up your son from daycare!” you snapped, cutting him off. “Jean, I had to leave work early because they called me saying he was the only baby left! Like some damn orphan waiting at the window!”

Jean sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I got caught up with work, mama—”

“Oh, you got caught up?” You huffed, crossing your arms under your chest, making his eyes flick down for a second before snapping back up. “Right, because closing a deal is so much more important than picking up our son, huh?”

Jean exhaled, standing up and rounding the desk, his full height towering over you as he got closer. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, voice low and authoritative. “You know he’s my priority.”

Your glare didn’t waver, lips pressing into a pout, but Jean could see the way your shoulders tensed when he got close—like you already knew how this was going to go.

“I just—” You huffed again, looking away. “You said you’d get him, Jean.”

Jean tipped your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “And I fucked up. Won’t happen again.” His voice was softer now, but firm, like there was no room for argument. “Now, you done yelling at me, or you wanna keep this up?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I should keep this up.”

Jean smirked, his hands sliding down to your waist, tugging you closer. “Mm. Maybe.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, voice dropping lower. “But you’re gettin’ all worked up over nothing, mama. You know I’ll make it up to you.”

You swallowed, your breath hitching as his hands tightened on your hips. “Jean—”

“I’ll pick him up all week,” he promised, lips ghosting over your cheek. “You can relax, go get your nails done, go shopping—whatever my pretty girl wants.”

Your pout deepened, but Jean could tell you were already softening. He grinned, knowing damn well that as mad as you were, it wouldn’t last long. You huffed in frustration, and with one last look at him, you turned on your heel, stomping out of his office.

Jean stayed where he was, leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

He could hear the muffled whispers from the nearby offices as his coworkers tried to sneak glances at you. One of them, a younger guy from finance, turned his head too quickly, his eyes flicking over you before immediately darting away, knowing he’d been caught.

Jean didn’t say anything at first, just standing there with that intense, quiet presence of his—until he caught the way the guy’s gaze lingered a little too long. His jaw tightened, and a subtle grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he pushed off the doorframe and moved toward the group of his coworkers.

He didn’t raise his voice, but the effect was immediate.

“Think I don’t notice what’s going on around here?” Jean’s voice was smooth but carrying just the right amount of authority. He tilted his head toward the young man who had been caught staring. “Eyes where they belong, or you’re working through lunch.”

The young guy froze, wide-eyed, and quickly averted his gaze, his face flushed with embarrassment. Jean’s smirk deepened as he leaned in just a little closer, the air around him shifting, becoming tense.

the entire office now aware of who exactly had the boss’s attention. And it wasn’t just business that had him intrigued—it was you.

[thanossssss]

more nam-gyu regressor/thanos cg? 💜🩵

Regressor! Nam-gyu w/ Caregiver! Thanos

Summary: Thanos makes the mistake of washing Nam-gyu’s special blanket, since he didn’t know he had regressed. Nam-gyu becomes extremely upset when he finds this out.

Contains: Age regression, crying, thumb sucking.

Not proofread.

Thanos couldn’t help but cringe at how loud Nam-gyu was sobbing in his arms. He accidentally made a horrible mistake of washing Nam-gyu’s special blanket, since he didn’t know he had regressed. If he did, there was no way he would’ve washed it, he knows just how attached Nam-gyu is to the thing.

Thanos had tried just about everything to calm him down, but nothing was working. All Nam-gyu wanted was his blanket. He didn’t care about anything Thanos was offering him or trying to give him. He just wanted to have his blanket back.

For a while now, Nam-gyu had been clinging to Thanos while loudly crying. It was to the point where Thanos was starting to get a headache, but he knew denying Nam-gyu comfort would only make matters worse. Even if it wasn’t calming him down, Nam-gyu still needed to be comforted. He would become a lot more upset and stressed out if Thanos just ignored his cries.

Thanos was rubbing his hand up and down against Nam-gyu’s back while softly shushing him. It wasn’t settling him at all, but it also wasn’t making him more upset either. Thanos just wasn’t sure what else he could do, since the only thing that would calm Nam-gyu down is him having his blanket back.

It was in the dryer now, so it wasn’t too much longer Nam-gyu had to wait, but to him it felt like forever. Thanos did feel really bad, especially when Nam-gyu watched him put his blanket in the dryer. He thought he could have his blanket back, but instead it was put into the dryer. It only made Nam-gyu start crying even harder than he had been.

Thanos did try to give Nam-gyu a different blanket, just for the time being. However, that just made Nam-gyu even more upset, which was very obvious when he angrily threw the blanket at Thanos.

So, Thanos didn’t offer him another blanket, since he clearly didn’t want a replacement. Thanos did offer Nam-gyu a stuffed animal though, but that was also thrown at him as well. The only thing that somewhat worked was holding him, even though it wasn’t really soothing him. It was just keeping him from crying harder.

Thanos was waiting for the alarm he set to finally go off, since it meant everything in the dryer would be done. He wanted Nam-gyu to just stop crying, and it wasn’t because of the headache he now had, but because he really did feel horrible about how upset he was.

Though, out of nowhere, Nam-gyu was slowly starting to quiet down. Thanos figured it was only because he didn’t have enough energy to keep on wailing like he was. He began hiccuping and whimpering while curling up against Thanos. He looked at Thanos, his eyes super teary and his face all puffy and wet. He’d been sobbing for almost an hour straight, so Thanos was not at all surprised that the poor guy looked like an absolute wreck.

“My poor little guy…” Thanos frowned as he gently wiped Nam-gyu’s tears from his eyes. A tiny whine left Nam-gyu, his bottom lip quivering a little. “Oh, don’t cry. It’s okay, you’ll have your blankie back soon.” Thanos told him. Nam-gyu only responded with a quiet, choked out sob.

“Shh..shh…” Thanos softly shushed him, rocking him ever so slightly. Nam-gyu sniffled, before placing his thumb into his mouth and letting himself relax a little in Thanos’s arms. Thanos felt relieved that Nam-gyu was finally calming down, but he still knew he was extremely upset. Only difference was that he wasn’t bawling like he was earlier.

Thanos rocked him for a couple minutes, when his alarm went off. It startled both of them, but especially Nam-gyu, who began whining out of frustration and annoyance.

“Yeah, I know it’s annoying, buddy. I’m turning it off.” Thanos said while silencing the alarm. “Come on, we’re going to get your blankie. Are you excited to have your blankie back?” Thanos spoke with a smile as he stood up and carried Nam-gyu to the laundry room.

When they arrived at the room, Thanos placed Nam-gyu down on the floor, then went to get everything out of the dryer. Nam-gyu stood up and toddled over to Thanos. He used his free hand to tug aggressively on his shirt.

“Blankie…blankie!” Nam-gyu impatiently fussed at him. “I’m looking for it, baby. Hold on.” Thanos responded, continuing to pull clothes out while searching for the blanket. Nam-gyu kept whining as Thanos looked for his blanket, but after a few more seconds, Thanos finally got it out.

“Here, buddy. Here you go.” Thanos said, holding out the comfort item to Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu immediately snatched it from him and held the blanket tightly to his chest. He smiled as a quiet and happy hum left him. “Happy now?” Thanos questioned, to which Nam-gyu answered with a quick head nod. Thanos smiled and gently ruffled his hair. “Good.” He said.

Nam-gyu giggled, before burying his face into the soft and warm material of his blanket. Finally, he had the item that brought him the most comfort and feeling of safety. Thanos was glad that Nam-gyu wasn’t upset anymore and was finally happy.

[daddy-issues-galore]

Let me fly you to the moon... Chapter 9/?

<Chapter 8< / >Chapter 10>

Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, sexting/nudes, unprotected sex, sex in front of a mirror, use of sex toys, sir kink, accidently use of daddy

The smell of coffee, and the sound of Noel’s voice woke you. It took you a couple of minutes to wake, letting out a tired yawn as you stretched before slowly untangling yourself from the crumpled bedsheets. You scowled at the light coming in from the hallway, the headache you had screaming for the light to piss off. You rolled over to face the bedside table where you found a bottle of water along with some painkillers and a note; I’ll have breakfast waiting x

You smiled to yourself as you forced yourself to sit up, groaning as your aching muscles protested. Fuck, what did we do last night?

After taking the painkillers and drinking most of the water, you slipped out of bed and grabbed Noel’s wrinkled shirt from the floor. You assumed Noel must be on the phone as you could hear him talking but you couldn’t hear anyone else. You slipped the shirt on and began making your way downstairs, the sound of Noel’s voice getting louder the closer you got to the kitchen.

Noel’s bare feet patted heavily across the tiled floor as he paced back and forth, dragging his hand through his hair and held his phone to his ear with the other. “What the fuck are you on ‘bout?” Noel huffed, “It’s not some fuckin’ gimmick to get people talkin’ ‘bout me…” His patience was wearing thin. His manager had called him about half an hour ago to tell him about that morning’s headlines. They were all talking about the pair of you and ‘the show’ you had put on for them. “She’s not a fuckin’ groupie... I fuckin’ like her, ‘lright… No. Do not tell anyone her name…” Noel huffed again. “Yeah, I know it was reckless of us last night but so what? I’m allowed to go on dates with me bird, ain’t I... Ya’ know what, I’m done. Fuck off!” Noel shouted and hung up. He leaned against the counter and let out a frustrated breath. He was furious.

Some of the things that had been written about the pair of you was ridiculous, and they made you sound like you were some gold-digging tart.

“Noel?”

Noel stood up and turned around to face you as you walked into the kitchen. His anger quickly faded as he looked at you. His eyes ran down your body, taking in the sight of you in his shirt, fresh out of bed, it was a sight he was becoming rather fond of. “Morning, love.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You pulled back with your own smile, blushing as you did. “Morning... what was all the shouting ‘bout?” You asked looking around the room.

Noel sighed softly, “Coffee?” He asked hoping to change the subject and walked over to the coffee machine.

You let out a soft sigh and walked up to him. “What’s wrong?”

Noel shook his head not looking at you, “Nothing.”

“I heard ya’ on the phone, Noel.”

Noel let out a heavy sigh before looking at you. “It was me manager. Apparently, we’re all over the front pages.”

“Ah,” You wore a worried frown as you looked down, “How bad is it? Just another picture of you staring at my ass or-” Noel showed you his phone that had an article loaded, your eyes widened as you looked at it. “Oh… that’s more than my arse.”

There under the headline, ‘Handsy Gallagher; Noel all over his new girl.’ – was a picture of you and Noel leaving the restaurant. The pair of you looked very very drunk. You had your arm around his waist laughing at something as Noel said something in your ear with his hand on your backside.

“It’s not too bad, I guess.” You looked up to him.

Noel frowned, “There’s more, love.”

You groaned. “I’m too hungover to deal with anything.” You leaned over the counter and dropped your head into your hands.

“You don’t need to worry ‘bout it, love. No one knows your name and I’ve told me manager to put anyone straight about the whole ‘groupie’ thing.” He let out a small chuckle.

“And that’s all fine until someone I know sees the pictures and decides to make some quick money by talking to the papers.”

Noel frowned, “M’sorry, love.”

You shook your head, “It was bound to happen, right?” You looked down at Noel’s phone and pressed another article link.

‘AKA… What a night! for Noel Gallagher’ – There was a picture of you and Noel sat in the back of his car with his arm around your shoulders. You were practically sat in Noel’s lap as the pair of you made out, completely unaware of your surroundings.

You groaned and put his phone down. “We must have been mega drunk last night. Behavin’ like a couple of teenagers.”

Noel chuckled, “I warned you I wasn’t gonna keep me hands to myself.” He pressed a kiss to your temple before walking over to the fridge. “What you want for breakfast?” He asked.

You raised your eyebrow and turned around to face him as he looked in the fridge, just noticing he was only wearing a pair of boxers and an undershirt. You smirked to yourself as you admired his arse. “Thought you said you couldn’t cook?”

“I can manage a bacon sarnie.” He smirked at you over his shoulder.

You nodded, “Bacon sarnie it is then.” You smiled.

As Noel set about cooking the bacon, you sorted the bread and plates. The two of you moved around the kitchen with ease like it was something you’ve been doing for years.

Noel had decided to go ahead to tonight’s venue before you in hopes to distract the press that had been waiting outside his place all day so you wouldn’t have to deal with them. The plan was for you to get there an hour or so before the show started, so you had plenty of time to relax and get ready. You had planned on having a bath in the extremely large bathtub with a glass of wine but then you discovered something in your suitcase that you hadn’t noticed before.

There, hidden away in one of the pockets of your suitcase, sat your pink vibrator and the butt plug. You definitely didn’t put them there which meant it had to be Noel.

You shook your head with a smirk, “The little-” You let out a small giggle, an idea popping into your head as you flicked your vibrator on.

Noel stood on stage strumming his guitar. They’d just finished practising ‘If I Had a Gun’ and as the others were busy tuning their instruments, Noel was playing around with a guitar rift that had been stuck in his head for a few days. The sound of his phone pinging in his pocket interrupted him. He pulled his phone out and began grinning; it was you.

Y/n: You alone? X

Noel: I’m practising, love x

Y/n: Yeah, but anyone looking over your shoulder? X

Noel: No. Why? x

Noel’s eyes widened, quickly holding his phone to his chest as he looked around to see if there was anyone looking over his shoulder before he took another look at his phone. Naughty girl, Noel thought as he looked over the photo of you. Your legs were spread with your vibrator slipped inside your pussy. You were clearly laid in the middle of Noel’s bed with his shirt still on. Noel had to readjust himself behind his guitar as he looked around him again.

Noel: You found it then x

Y/n: And what were you planning on doin with it? X

Noel: Having some fun with you x

Another photo popped up. You’d replaced the vibrator with two of your fingers but this time there was a glimpse of the butt plug nestled between your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Noel moaned.

“Chief?”

Noel looked up and quickly slipped his phone back in his pocket. “I, uh, need the loo.” Noel spun around keeping his guitar in front of him until he was by the side of the stage. At that moment he didn’t care what happened to his beloved guitar as he all but dropped it because all that mattered was dealing with his hard on.

A couple of hours later you were walking down the corridor of the venue backstage alongside Noel’s PA who had met you by the front of the venue. You were giddy and not just because you were buzzin’ with excitement for the show. Noel had tried ringing you after you sent your second photo, but you were ‘busy’, so you didn’t answer. It was safe to say he was worked up and you were excited to see what he would do.

You followed Noel’s PA into the band dressing room, your smile widening as your eyes immediately met Noel’s from where he stood. You greeted the other’s, ignoring Russell’s joke as you and Noel walked towards each other. “Hello.” You smiled innocently up at him.

“Enjoy your afternoon alone?” Noel asked, his gaze dark as he stared down at you.

You hummed, “Very much… you?” You smirked.

Noel let out a small growl, “It was a bit… hard.”

You giggled and looked up as Tim walked up to you with a drink. You thanked him as you took it from him. You could feel Noel’s eyes on you as you took a swig of your drink. “What?” You asked looking up at him.

Noel shook his head with a grin, “Nowt.” He looked you up and down, his smile widening. “You look good in a skirt.” He licked his bottom lip. “Real good.”

You looked around the two of you to make sure no one was near you before you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “I’m still wearing it.” You giggled.

Noel’s eyes widened as he met your eyes, “Seriously?” You nodded biting your bottom lip. Noel gulped and quickly took your hand in his, dragging you out of the dressing room without a care.

Your feet struggled to keep up with his large strides as he led you to what must be his dressing room. He opened the door and practically pushed you inside making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager.” You teased and slowly stepped back into the room, dropping your bag on the floor as you did.

Noel grunted as he slammed the door shut behind him. “You’ve had me fuckin’ hard all day,” He said as he stalked closer to you. “With all your teasin’… I’ve been a fuckin’ mess.”

“That was the idea.” You grinned, “It’s your own fault, Mr Gallagher.”

Noel’s eyes darkened and his Adams apple bobbed as he gulped. There was something about the way you called him ‘Mr Gallagher’ that got to him. He closed the gap between you by grabbing a hold of your hips and crashing his lips against yours.

You let out a heavy moan and wrapped your arms around Noel’s shoulders, letting his tongue enter your mouth. He began walking you backwards until you hit the back of the sofa that sat in the room, the kiss not breaking until you needed to breath.

Noel pulled back with a smirk. “You’ve been a bad girl today, haven’t you?” You let out a giggle as Noel’s hands moved down and squeezed your backside through your skirt.

“It’s good to be bad sometimes.” You leaned up and kissed him. “Have you ever fucked a girl with one in?” You asked as you softly laid kisses under his jaw.

Noel gulped, “... No...” He closed his eyes as you ran your tongue over his Adams apple and back up to his jaw.

You pulled back with a smirk, “Then this is your treat...” You turned around and bent over the back of the sofa. “You said you wanted to fuck me in this, didn’t you?” You wiggled your backside with a giggle making Noel grin.

He gathered the hem if your skirt and pushed up to your hips, moaning at the sight if your backside covered in black lace and silk. “This that new lingerie?” He asked as he stared at your backside. He could just about see the silver butt plug through the lace. His hard cock twitching at the sight. He never realised how much of an arse guy he was until you.

You nodded, “Do you like it?”

Noel looked at you with a smirk. “Take this off.” He ordered as he tugged on your Fred Perry.

You let out an excited giggle as you quickly pulled it over your head. You went to turn around to face Noel but he stopped you, pressing his chest to your back as he reached up and grabbed your throat, holding your face forwards. Your eyes met his in the large mirror that sat on the wall opposite the sofa.

“Look at how fucking gorgeous you are, love.” Noel whispered against your ear. His right hand gently stroked up your stomach until he reached your lace covered breasts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect, baby doll.” Noel cupped your left breast and ran his thumb over your nipple.

“Please, Noel, stop teasing.”

Noel smirked against your ear, “It’s not nice, is it?” He said and pinched your nipple making you moan loudly.

“Fine then, don’t fuck me before you go on stage. I’ll go stand in the crowd and find someone who will.” You sassed trying to move away from him.

Noel’s hand around your throat tightened as he stared into your eyes through the mirror, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Yer mine. You understand? Yer fuckin’ mine.” You gulped and nodded, pressing your thighs together. “Say it.” Noel ordered.

“I’m yours, Noel.”

Noel turned your face towards him and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was hot and messy, rough, full of passion and something more. The thought of what that something more could be scared you.

You pulled back panting and licked your lips, needing to rid your head of the thoughts, “Are you goin’ to fuck me or what, Mr Gallagher?”

Noel rolled his eyes with a smirk and let go of you, making quick work of his belt. “Perhaps I should put that smart mouth of yours to better use instead of fuckin’ you senseless.” He dropped his trousers and boxers revealing his hard, throbbing cock, the sight made your mouth water. Noel pushed you back over the sofa and moved your panties to the side.

“Just do something- fuck,” You moaned loudly, quickly covering your mouth with your hand as Noel tugged on the butt plug. Your eyes screwed shut as he played with it.

“What was that, love?” You could hear the smugness in his voice.

A needy whimper fell from your lips, muffled by your hand as Noel slipped two of his fingers through your throbbing cunt.

“Not so fuckin’ gobby now, are ya’?” Noel teased, a smug grin on his lips as he stepped closer. He took his cock in hand and slowly rubbed the head of it through your wet folds. “I want everyone to hear you, yeah? Let them know who you belong to.” Your back arched as he rubbed his length a little firmer against you.

“Oh, gahd-”

“Fuck! Gonna fuck you so good, baby doll.” Noel moaned as his length slipped between your pussy, every inch of him getting coated in your juices. “Gonna fill you up, nice and full with my cock.” He groaned loudly as he grabbed your arse cheeks in his hands firmly, pulling them apart before he slowly slid his cock inside you.

The two of you moaned loudly in unison, Noel’s cock slowly inched inside of your cunt, sending shivers down your spine as it pressed against the butt plug. Noel’s eyes screwed shut as he tried to calm himself, the new feeling almost too much for him, but he’d be damned if he let this finish too soon.

Noel looked up into the mirror and met your already half lidded eyes. You were wrecked already. “You ‘kay, love?”

You nodded. “Please, Noel, move.” You panted, giving your hips a little wiggle making Noel hiss.

Noel began to move at a slow pace. He slipped his cock all the way in until his balls were flush against you. He paused for a moment, watching you in the mirror as you got lost in the pleasure before he began to pull back just as slow, squeezing a little tighter on your firm cheeks as he did so. He continued at this slow pace for a couple more thrust until you reached back and grabbed his left hand with yours.

“Faster, Noel. Please.” You begged, your eyes pleaded with his through the mirror.

Noel gulped and came to a stop, his cock once more fully inside you making you whimper, “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.” He worried.

You shook your head, panting, “You won’t... I trust you.” You gave him a soft smile, your fingers curling around his.

Noel nodded. He set of at a slow pace, gradually he began to move a little faster until he allowed himself to let lose, your pleasured moans spurring him on. “Fuck, baby.” Noel breathed deeply as he pushed harder into you sending another set of moans leaving your lips.

“God… daddy… s’good.” You cried out, lost in the pleasure.

Noel watched your reflection, his eyes focused on your breasts as they bounce with each thrust. He bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked your harder and faster. The sofa slowly began to scrap across the floor, the sound mixing with pleasured moans and heavy breathing.

“Yes! Oh God, yes!” You cried out loudly, the feeling of Noel bumping the butt plug inside your asshole as his cock moved in and out of your pussy made you feel amazing. “Shit! So close-“ you whimpered as you reached back and pressed your fingers against your clit.

Noel clenched his teeth as he felt you squeeze around his cock. “Fuck… Fuck… I-” Noel’s eyes closed tight as you came, your pussy squeezing his cock tighter. “Fuck!” Noel stilled as he cried out and came deep inside.

You let out a tired giggle as Noel collapsed over your back, his arms sliding around you as he did. Noel smirked against your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty skin.

“Uh, Noel,” You giggled as Noel hummed against your skin. “I can’t breathe.” You giggled.

“Shit. Sorry.” Noel slowly pushed himself up and carefully pulled out of you. Noel looked down between your legs and felt his cheeks flush as he watched his cum spill out of you. “Uh, there’s jm, towels and stuff in there if you want to clean up.” Noel nodded to the small bathroom that was in his dressing room.

You blushed and nodded, carefully walking over, closing the door behind you. You faced the large mirror and just stared at your reflection. What the fuck. A smile curled at your lips as you thought about what had just happened.

You quickly set about cleaning up, redressing yourself and removing the butt plug before you headed back out to where Noel was sat on the sofa that was still in the same place you had left it, the thought why making you blush even more. Noel had also redressed and was sat on his phone. He looked up with a smile, his eyes falling to the butt plug that sat in your hand and began blushing too. You bit your bottom lip as you walked over to join him on the sofa and grabbed your bag from where you had dropped it.

Noel cleared his throat as you put it away. “That’s not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to have some fun with ya’.” Noel smirked.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Did you want to use it?”

Noel’s eyes widened comically making you laugh. “What? No.” He scoffed all flustered.

You laughed harder, “M’sorry. Your face… Fuck, you’re cute when you get flustered.” You said making Noel blush even more. “M’sorry,” You turned in your seat to face him, throwing your legs over his. “What did you mean?”

Noel rolled his eyes trying not to smile as he placed his hand on your knee and stroked his hand along your thigh. “I just meant, in bed. But this was fuckin’ way better.” Noel winked at you making you grin.

[madmeks]

Caught

Pairings: Titus x Mira

Author's note: 18+ Inspired by this ask Takes place a few days after Her Space Marine: Part 2.

Warnings: Sexual content. Public Sex. Voyeurism. Unprotected sex.

Description: Titus and Mira get interrupted during some time in the shower, but Titus has an unexpected reaction to being caught in a compromising position.

Tagging: @beckyninja @yanagikou @flunkyofmalcador @finchly-tintinnabulation @kit-williams @justanothermemestrider @theemeraldwings @wormiusdebilius @74rn @severalpossiblemusiks @vspin @blukitty40k @nereidof40k If anyone would like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know :)

If you're interested in reading any of my earlier fics, check out my pinned post.

Mira couldn’t decide if the experience of bivouacking a mixed company of Imperial Guard troopers on an Ultramarine strike cruiser was the most frustrating or most pleasant experience of her life.

After the retreat off Daedalus V, the Imperium fleet had been harried by ork kroozers on their way outsystem, and there hadn’t been time to transfer the Mordian and Cadian survivors of the last evacuation flight off the strike cruiser to their designated troopship. They’d ended up setting up a temporary barracks in a disused cargo bay. With no designated quartermasters among the Guard troops, it had fallen to Mira, Zev, and Major Sarkaana to arrange for rations and supplies for their mismatched collection of soldiers.

It had been headache after headache. The chapter serfs who crewed the ship saw themselves as noble caretakers and aides to the mighty space marines who commanded the ship, certainly above any lowly Cadian or Mordian footslogger. The company were treated as unwelcome guests at best, and had to fight tooth and nail for every concession, down to the last can of corpse starch.

After three days, Major Sarkaana had finally talked the deck chief into allowing the Guardsmen to use the crew showers. Mira had spent the last few hours shepherding the troops as they waited in long lines for their turns to bathe. A few squabbles had broken out between the Cadians and the Mordians over which squads got precedence, and she and Zev had spent most of the afternoon tramping up and down the line keeping discipline.

Finally it was over, and Mira stood alone in one of the shower stalls letting the water run over her tense and cramped muscles. The ship’s recycled water had a vague tang of filtration chemicals, but it was hot, and after the last few days that was all she cared about.

As she hung her head under the spray and let the water run over her aching neck, her thoughts turned to some of the other activities of the past few days. Sighing softly, she pressed her legs together, which did little to quell the wetness forming there that had nothing to do with the shower.

Once the ship had broken orbit and left Daedalus V behind and the prospect of combat was gone, Titus had become insatiable. He’d explained to her already how becoming a Primaris had increased his sex drive, but it seemed that it had ramped up even more now that they’d left the war behind.

Whenever her duties had allowed, she’d stolen away to help him relieve his tension. She chewed on her lower lip, getting aroused reliving the moments from the past few days.

The first time had been in his quarters, when he’d practically ripped her uniform off and then took her standing standing in the middle of the room. Later, she rode him on his bed, not stopping until he’d filled her twice over.

The next day, she and Major Sarkaana had attended a war council with Captain Acheran and his officers on the state of the fleet. Afterward, she’d lingered behind with Titus in the briefing room, ducking her head beneath his robes to take him into her mouth until he came.

Just this morning, she’d snuck away with him to a storeroom, hurriedly bending over a crate of supplies as he lowered her pants and panties to her ankles. She’d had to cover her mouth to stay quiet as he first tongued her pussy from behind, then lifted his robe and entered her. When he came, she’d gone over the edge too as she felt his seed shoot into her.

Running a finger between her legs as she stood in the shower, she lightly brushed a fingertip over her clit, sighing pleasantly at the memory. She was growing just as insatiable as him.

She reached forward to turn off the water valve then took up a towel to dry herself, padding across the tiled floor of the shower room to where here uniform was neatly folded. She’d gotten her panties on and was fastening her bra behind her back when she heard another enter the room. Turning, she smiled as the massive shape slipped through the lingering clouds of steam.

“Hello there,” she said teasingly as Titus stepped into view.

***

Mira could feel herself growing wetter and wetter as Titus’ pre-cum leaked out over her stroking fingers. She smiled as he let out a soft grunt of pleasure, his cock pulsing in her hand. He leaned down to kiss her, as she pressed her body against his. His hands reached to pull her bra down until her tits spilled out over the cups, then teased at her nipples as she pumped him.

He’d suggested returning to his quarters, but Mira had guided him to a darkened corner of the showers, encouraging him to shed his robe and kneel for her before reaching between them to stroke his cock to life.

Falling to her knees, she took a moment to slip her panties off and then slowly licked around the head of his cock as she gazed up at him. As his head fell back in pleasure, she found herself marveling at him. Knowing that to most he was viewed as an Emperor-sent killing machine, but kneeling before him, laving his erection with her tongue...she saw him as hauntingly beautiful. She ran a hand along his thigh, feeling the uncanny curves of his gene-enhanced muscles. She closed her lips around his shaft, reveling in the gasp her mouth elicited from him as it slid downward.

Mira moaned softly in the back of her throat, just enough to vibrate her mouth around him. Popping off his cock, she gave him a hungry look.

“Saints, Titus...I can’t...get enough of you,” she murmured, punctuating her words with licks and kisses around the head of his cock. She licked her and brought it back to his shaft, stroking it up and down while using her other hand to smear his pre-cum along his length. Leaning forward, she took her tits and squeezed them around his cock. Groaning, he rocked back with his ass on his heels, his thick cock jutting up between her breasts.

“I want you to come on me,” Mira moaned as Titus thrust up, fucking between her tits. “I want your cum on my tits, and then I want you to come inside me.”

“M-Mira,” he choked as he thrust, hands reaching forward to grasp her shoulders. She squeezed her her tits tighter around him.

“Throne,” she gasped. “You’re making me so wet, Titus.”

Her words set him off. His back stiffened and his thrusts became erratic, then he came. Covering her hands with his own, he pressed her tits together. His mouth falling open in a wordless gasp, Mira looked down to see the first thick rope of cum burst out of his cock and splash against her neck and chin. He kept stroking, pumping out more over her cleavage with each thrust. Gasping as he finished, he fell back to sit on the tiles. She smiled at him as she unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor. Climbing onto his lap, she pressed herself against him for a kiss.

“Mmm...Titus,” she murmured as her naked breasts pillowed on his chest, smearing his cum between them. “I’m going to need another shower.”

Titus grabbed her hips and held her against him.

“First, I want more,” he growled.

She pushed back against his cock, letting out a small satisfied gasp as she felt him stir back to life against her ass. Feeling her shudder, he grabbed her hips and rocked against her.

He surged to his feet, effortlessly carrying her with him as he pressed her against the wall, and then growled in pleasure as he lowered her onto his cock. She moaned and began moving her hips in time with his as he speared into her.

She threw her head back as he buried himself in her, legs locked around his wide hips and hanging desperately onto his neck.

His rhythm suddenly stopped, and she mewled as she tried to rock her hips to keep him going. Raising her head, she saw him twisting his shoulders and head to look at something behind him. With his massive frame shielding her from the rest of the room, she couldn’t see what he was looking at but she froze as she heard a new voice in the room.

“M-my lord?”

Mira recognized the voice. It was one of the troopers from Major Sarkaana’s company. Pulling on Titus’ neck, she raised herself up to peek just her eyes over his shoulder, taking care to keep hidden behind him. She stifled a moan as his long cock slid a few inches out of her as she moved.

It was Arik, Sarkaana’s vox operator, stripped to his tank top and carrying a towel over his shoulder. He was staring at the naked space marine, and the tent in the man’s uniform trousers spoke volumes about his reaction to seeing the Astartes in such a state. Behind him, she could see Aelis, a plasma gunner from her own company. Aelis was dazedly palming her breast as she stared, mouth agape.

Mira ducked back down behind Titus, gasping a little she slid back down his cock. Above her, Titus stood still as a statue, staring back at the troopers. Suddenly, Mira felt him stir. She whimpered as she felt him seem to grow even harder insider her.

Slowly, still looking behind him, Titus resumed his thrusts into her. She tried to stifle her cries against his chest as he worked his cock in and out of her clutching pussy. Arms around his neck, she clung desperately to him as he bucked into her faster and faster.

He turned his head back to her, his face contorted with arousal and pleasure. Mira thought about what the two troopers were seeing, the space marine’s ass clenching as he trust into a woman he had pinned against the wall, her legs and arms clutching at him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he grunted as he slammed into her, driving toward his climax. “Take me...take me...tak-”

His words caught in his throat as his cock suddenly began to jerk inside her. He threw his head back and roared, hands tight on her hips as he began to unload inside her. Mira’s pussy contracted around his spurting cock as she joined him in orgasm.

“Uhn...uhn...uhn…” Titus was grunting on each stroke as his orgasm began to slow. His cock pulsed a little on every thrust, seed flowing out of him in spurt after spurt. Mira continued to come around him, her body milking his cum until he was spent.

Titus’ knees sagged, and he threw a hand up against the wall to catch himself. He bent over Mira, his forehead coming to rest against hers as he kept her pressed against him. Almost imperceptibly, his head twitched to the side.

“Get out,” he growled to the two Cadians.

Mira heard the two hurriedly leave the shower room as she tried to return her breathing to normal, thankful that the bulk of Titus’ transhuman frame had kept her from their eyes. Looking up at Titus though, she saw he’d had a much different reaction to being caught. The space marine was flushed, breathing heavily in the wake of his orgasm.

“That felt like someone appreciated an audience.”

Titus barked a breathless laugh. He gazed down into her smiling eyes as he nodded an assent, still breathing heavily. “Perhaps...perhaps I did.”

His softening cock slipping out of her, he gently lowered her to the floor. Standing on her tiptoes, she caught his neck and brought his lips down for a kiss.

***

A few compartments away, Corporal Arik slumped back against the bulkhead in a deserted corridor. He ran a hand through his hair as he breathed heavily.

“Throne...did you see that?”

“Uh-hmm,” Aelis hummed in acknowledgment on her knees in front of him. She popped off his cock and began to stroke him with her hand. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Who do you think the woman was?”

“No idea,” Aelis muttered as she wrapped her lips back around him. Reaching down into her waistband, she started to rub her clit in tight circles as she went back to bobbing on his shaft. After just a few moments, Arik gave a sharp cry and jerked as his cum began to enter her mouth in spurts. Aelis closed her eyes and swallowed, her own moans muffled as her hand began to move faster between her legs...

Thank so much for reading. Please leave a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it. The reaction to these fics has been wonderful and I'm thankful for everyone in the Tumblr Warhammer community for giving me the confidence to post my work here :)

[cweeming]

⠀⠀⠀ ࣪⠀⠀𓏵⠀⠀ ׅ　 7592 (𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑠𝑡𝑦𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡). ⠀⠀ྀི

⠀⠀⠀⠀♰⠀ 𓈒 ⠀𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐 (🇧🇦/𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡).⠀ ﾉ⠀𝑡𝑥𝑡 (🇯🇵 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡). ✙

it were the afternoon, you and Logan hanging out. he had a mission to look out for, while you were kicking back and relaxing.

you sat on the couch, phone in hand. there wear earphones in your ears, and the music were turned up so you couldn't hear anything. Logan stood infront of the mirror on the wall a few feet away, back turned to you. he were grooming himself, making sure his kitty ears were in tact. he couldn't help but slow down when he began to hear the music coming from your phone. this again. his eyes narrowed, as he caught a glimpse of your sitting form in the mirror. he's told you countless times not to turn up the volume too loud, how you'd go deaf. but, you never learned.

"that oughta give you a headache." he called out, continuing to groom himself. fully expecting a response, not knowing you couldn't hear him. after none came, he stopped and called out to you again. maybe you were ignoring him, not wanting to listen to 'ole Logan and his old wives tales. "I ain't saying you can't do what you're doing, but I also ain't denying there'll be consequences in store for you." again, no response. he turned around in your direction to look at you, seeing you on your phone. what could possibly be preventing you from answering him?

you'd have the scare of your life when Logan suddenly towered over you. "Logan!" you nearly shrieked, throwing your phone and hitting him square in the face. "you- you're going to give me a damn heart attack." he chuckled, you pulling your earphones out of your ears and tossing them aside. "well, princess. being distracted doesn't exactly help prevent that from happening."

he stood up and grabbed your phone that landed beside you on the couch. "called out to you twice, and you ain't responded once. there ain't nothin' important on this phone to prevent you from talking." then, he smirked. "I don't suppose, you're crushing on the latest celebrity?"

you didn't exactly calm down, a small blush appearing on your cheeks while you shook lightly. "I'm just teasin'," he'd speak before you had the chance to answer, reaching out and ruffling your hair.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a few minutes go by. Logan's sitting next to you, scrolling thru your phone. "so... I noticed you had your earphones on you." he glanced at you sideways. "mind telling me what's going on there?"

you shifted uncomfortably. you didn't like being confronted, especially when it came to your secret interests. "uh... nothing." you shifted a bit to the side, turning away from him. "it's nothing."

it seemed as though you were preparing to leave. so, he grabbed ahold of you.

"nothin' ain't cuttin' it, princess." he sneered, the smugness present in his tone. ugh. it were hard putting up with him sometimes. you released a sigh, plopping back onto the couch like jello.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀...

as he continued to browse thru your phone, he managed to come across a music app. you waited patiently to have your phone returned, arms crossed over your chest.

"chizutorimack?.." he had a good look at the name, as well as the icon itself. you thought nothing of it, paying him no attention.

until you heard the app open, a soft chime coming to life. your eyes widened, head slowly turning in his direction. you knew right then and there, you couldn't let this man proceed.

"give me back my phone!" with a now demanding tone, you attempted to wrestle the phone out of his hands, failing miserably as he managed to block your small form. you sat back, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him like a hawk.

"easy now, princess." his eyes remained glued to your phone screen, beginning to read off what he saw in the app. "7592, music, txt... heh. well, I never took my princess for a music enthusiast." he looked over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. you released an annoyed breath, hair getting into your eyes. atleast you could lie more thoroughly with an attitude.

"firstly," you began, tucking the hair behind your ear. "you really need to keep your claws off what's not yours." you swatted at your phone to get it back, but he simply smiled, raising his arm higher into the air. how he loved to tease you. "and second, it's not a music app. I. . . that's just where I get my inspiration from. for every day life."

he saw right thru your bullshit. "I think I could take you up on that offer, princess." he reached over for the earphones that were still plugged into the phone. "you let old Logan here get a taste of what the common folk listen to, and I'll return your phone. how does that sound?"

terrible. your heart began to pick up. the judgement is going to be absolutely unreal. "u-uhm, actually... there's swearing. and themes of sex and violence."

he simply fanned his hand at you. he's well over 200 years old, and has definitely seen a lot worse. "y' know, I do need to brush up on my own collection. after all, a mutant needs to keep himself busy when he's not always around the house." he put in one earpod, before doing the same with the other. "go on, princess. what album do you recommend I listen to, first?"

you hesitated. usually, you'd keep these things to yourself, locked away from the world. but, with Logan... there were never a day where he seemed uncurious. so, you chose your favorite playlist that you created, albeit in a very shy manner.

"u-um... try the 7592 playlist."

in the end, he loved it. the other 2 playlists, including. so much so, he constantly kept your phone on him days at a time so he could keep himself in the mood. maybe it's time to put a passcode on the lockscreen?

[caffinatedkrasova]

A Morning Cup of Coffee

You’ve never been a morning person, but now, with the farm, you’ve been forced to, but Harvey always makes those mornings more manageable. With his warm smile and hot coffee ready for you as soon as you're prepared to grace him with your presence in the clinic, you’ve decided to give him a little extra thanks for such special mornings.

The alarm on your bedside table rang out through your room, giving you a headache as soon as your head lifted off its pillow. You grumble out a curse as you turn the damned thing off. You realize that you’re already late to feed your chickens and rush out of bed, still in your pajamas, to your coop to fill their feeder. Your most enormous brood, Henretta, was the most displeased at your tardiness, giving you a slight peck to the hand as you collected the eggs for the day.

With an annoyed expression, you continued to finish up the necessary farm work for the morning, deciding that today was just one of those days where you’d be back in bed watching Netflix by 4 pm. But before you gave up on your morning, you decided to visit your lovely doctor. Who lifted your spirits with his delectable coffee creamer he kept just for you. You couldn’t understand his preference for black coffee but couldn’t argue if he kept your favorite in his fridge.

After setting the timers for your Mayo machines, you decide it might be better to be dressed when you go into town. You quickly change into something more presentable than your Junimo pajama set. While you’re sure Harvey would have no complaints about your attire even if you had worn a trashcan lid for a hat, you don’t want Jodi or Caroline spreading rumors about your disheveled state. You have already learned your lesson about those two.

As you head out the door in what you had reasoned to be an okay outfit, you chuckled slightly at the memory of Jodi and Caroline being so worried about you when you had gone to Pierre’s in your sweatpants and hoodie. They had thought you had gotten some illness and nearly dragged you to the clinic when you assured them you were okay and didn’t feel like getting into your overalls that morning to do your farm work. With all the commotion outside the clinic, Harvey had overheard and decided to see what was happening. When he heard what the discourse was about from Jodi and Caroline, he sided with them and demanded to take your temperature. When he had gotten you back to the clinic without them, he told you not to worry about them and offered to make you a coffee upstairs since you looked tired. That’s when you found out he liked his coffee plain black, and you couldn’t be more thankful for such noisy neighbors.

You finally reach the clinic doors. You check your watch, and it says 10:30 am. Harvey should be in the front clinic office now; he probably saw you coming from the windows. He had perhaps made the coffee for you by now, the unique mug he had bought for you when you spotted it on a trip to Zuzu City, the one only you could use. He had probably already added the exact amount of creamer and sugar you love every time. He’ll do this for you every time, like clockwork. Knowing your mornings are never complete until you’re drinking your coffee with him, talking about how horrible it is to wake up early and walk so far to get here.

A little bell chimes above you as you walk through the doors. The bright fluorescent lighting of the clinic waiting room does nothing to help your headache from waking up. The only comfort you seem to receive in your seconds of peril while your eyes adjust is your dear doctor's deep, joyous chuckle.

“You will never get used to those lights, will you?” He continues to laugh while you rub your eyes while they sting. You find it in yourself to laugh with him. I mean, with a laugh like that, how could you not?

“No, your lights are specifically designed to blast anyone walking through this door. Is it a visitor deterrent?” Your eyes finally acclimate to the light's brightness, and you can look at your doctor well. His dark brown curls frame his cute face, oversized glasses, how they sit perfectly on the slope of his nose, and the tint on his cheeks when he makes direct eye contact with you. And you notice your mug waiting on the counter with small amounts of steam coming from the top.

“No, they’re not visitor deterrents, but they’re designed to let you see better, especially for eye exams. But, enough of the doctor talk; you want your coffee?” He slides the mug in your direction, and you take it happily, your hands brushing his slightly as you take it. You hear him take a breath as he quickly grabs his coffee. You can clearly see the blush creeping above his collared shirt in this light.

“You know, Harv, you didn’t have to memorize my favorite coffee,” You give him a look while you sip your coffee before you continue, “But you did, and for that, I thank you deeply; I think you’re slowly making me a morning person.”

“It’s only coffee, Y/n. I like these mornings with you, so if that means keeping a disgustingly high-calorie creamer in my fridge, so be it.” He pauses to continue sipping his black coffee. Besides, what else would I do in the mornings, getting work done?” You go to slap his arm as he continues to laugh at his jokes. But he knows he is right. These mornings together had become a sort of ritual. You’d pray to Yoba for them to never stop, to only blossom into something you could keep forever as the two of you continue drinking your coffee and chatting about things that never mattered. You’d also pray that he had done the same.

“It’s not just the coffee; you know it, Harv.”

“I know”

“It never was, was it?” He doesn’t look at you; he stares into the mug you had bought for him in that run-down market you two had gone to after going to the aerospace museum in Zuzu for his birthday. He told you that you didn’t need to spend more money on him, that the evening alone was enough, but you insisted that you both needed unique mugs.

“No, it was for you.” When he finally looks back at you, he looks like a complete blushing mess. His expression could only be described as adoring. The intensity behind his eyes as the love he felt for you stared you down sent a chill down your spine. “I- I wanted to do this right, bouquet and all, b-but now it seems better, Y/n I love you. I love making your coffee in the mornings and that you come in daily to keep me company. I love how your h/c glows in the light, and you can never seem to wake up on time. Could you find it in yourself to love an old doctor like me? Because simply knowing you isn’t enough; I want to know you first thing in the morning and before bed. If you keep your socks on or off, how to wake you gently and keep you happy.”

“Harvey, I want all of that; I want you.” You round the counter quickly and rush to his arms. He holds you gently at first, then his hands from your back to your hair and waist. He keeps you close as his head dips into your neck, taking a deep breath. If this is how they continue, you have become a morning person.

He releases you from the crushing hug, but not before slowly planting his lips onto yours. The feeling of soft skin in contrast to his bristling mustache almost made you giggle from the tickling feeling, but as you both continued to deepen the kiss, his hand on your waist began to travel down your lower back, grabbing a handful of your ass. As you pulled back to gasp, Harvey aimed at your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You continued to gasp and whimper at the contact, writhing from the attention.

“You’re so wound up, I think I should prescribe you a massage. I can do it personally if you’d like?” You nod furiously, your mouth suddenly becoming dry as you try to think of words you could helplessly use to plead for Harvey. He turns you towards the clinic hallway, ushering you into his office. He turns you around again, leading you now backward, pushing you by your hip towards the exam table. Once flush against the table, he lifts you to sit on top of the exam bed. He quickly kisses you before gently pulling apart and giving you space; you give him a confused look before he continues, “I did say this was a massage, did I not?” You provide a disappointed look after he continues, “Do be a good patient by removing your clothing, please. I cannot get a good look at the,“ he pauses to clear his throat, “muscles in need of care, with them on.”

You lift your shirt above your arms, exposing your f/c bra to the cold clinic air. You can feel goosebumps rising as Harvey looks over your exposed skin. He stares in absolute awe before quickly shaking himself out of whatever thought that held him captive. Kissing you deeply, letting his hands roam your skin, the smooth, supple skin that his touch had warmed. You leaned into him, hoping that he would continue to hold you. He would never stop now that you had let him; he would find any opportunity to do so in the future.

He unclasped the backing of your lacy bra, sliding the garment off of your arms down onto the clinic floor. As your nipples rise to the temperature of the chilly clinic, Harvey wastes no time to take one into his mouth and cover the other in his large hand. Swirling his tongue around your areola, you jerk into his touch, quickly becoming aroused by his skilled tongue. You lean into his touch, needing one hand to keep you stable on the exam bed, and you use the other to tangle itself in his curly hair. You give a slight tug when he gives your nipple a small bite. He moans in response and moves to your other tit, wanting to give them both equal attention.

However, long after Harvey felt like adequate attention to your breast was up, he gently pushed you down on the exam bed. Once you had laid down comfortably on the table, Harvey continued his assault of hot kisses along your body. Starting from your breast, leading down your ribs and stomach, and heading towards the hemline of your pants. He looked up for your permission before continuing to pull your pants down your legs while continuing his kisses along your thighs and calves. When he finally gets your pants off, he continues his gentle kisses while his hands start to kneed at the plush parts of your thighs. He feels as if his heart is beating a hundred miles an hour with how you react to his touch. He must be ascending to Yoba himself from the pure sight of heaven in front of him.

You feel your skin radiating heat from the way his hands had spread out, one hand cupping your tits and gently tugging on your nipples occasionally. And the other hand had gently cupped the mound of flesh covering your most sensitive parts. He had wanted to continue massaging your tender and sore legs, but he could sense your growing tension and need for release.

He released his hold on your tits and thighs, moving his hands back to your waist as he looked for your permission once more as he continued to remove your underwear, tossing it to join its matching set on the floor of the clinic. Once you were undressed entirely on the exam table, Harvey grabbed a chair and brought it to the end of the table. Taking a seat in the chair, then pulling you by your ankles to the edge of the bed so that your ass was just barely in the air.

With little warning, Harvey dives into your pussy like a starved man, licking long flat stripes onto your clit. You gasp and moan, your hands diving into his hair, holding him in his place. A string of pleas and whimpers leave your mouth, unheard by your ears, as the pleasure that racks your body in waves comes over you. Harvey wraps his arms underneath your legs, trying to gain some leverage with how you're writhing beneath him. As he continues his ministrations, he slowly inserts a finger into your tight hole. You clench around the sudden intrusion, trying to relax into his touch, but each movement causes you to jump and shudder.

After you adjust to the first finger, Harvey inserts another, quickly making work of stretching your poor tight little pussy. He would almost feel pity for how tight you think; it must have been a while since someone has adequately cared for you, and he will happily take the job with care. With another finger inserted, you release a hearty moan while your back arches off of the exam bed. Your hand that was buried in his hair clenches and pulls harder than you intended, and Harvey fucking loves it. The primal groan that releases from his throat sends chills down your spine and even more juices to spill from your cunt.

You can hardly handle any more teasing before you release, and you desperately need to cum on his cock and not around his digits. While it’s appealing, you’d instead finish together the first time. So you tug on Harvey’s hair, signaling for him to pull away from your delicious cunt, and he does so begrudgingly. He truly thinks that if he could spend the rest of his life between your legs, he would.

As Harvey stands from his chair, you can see the bulge in his pants that has grown considerably since the start of the ‘massage.’ He quickly undoes his belt with the speed of a man who desperately needs to get laid and frees his weeping cock from the confines of his pants and boxer briefs. He pumps himself a few times, enjoying the look on your face when he has beaten whatever estimate your imagination had given him.

He gently places his hands underneath the back of your knees, pushing them towards your chest while he slowly grinds his hips against yours, slightly sputtering from the contact. His face was completely red from the acts he was committing. He had always been a morning person, but this morning had put every other to shame. The view of your tits being pushed up by the folding of your legs and how wet your cunt made his cock feel was almost sinful.

He slowly pushed his dick into your wet cunt, savoring the way your tight hole had clenched around him the moment he entered. He wanted to rut into you the moment his cock had touched your soaked entrance, but he had to show restraint for your poor little pussy, or he would hurt you, and that was the last thing he wanted. He leaned down to your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “You’ve got to relax, dear. If you’re too tight, I won’t be able to fuck you like you want.”

You squirm and moan on his dick, wanting to take more of him desperately. You wrap your hands around his arms, pleading with your body for him to continue, your brain too far gone to help you make your case. Harvey, deciding to take pity on your whining state, pushes his cock further into you. His hands gripping your leg and the back of your head, leaning into your neck as he ruts slowly into your pussy. As you slowly begin to loosen around him, he continues his agonizingly slow pace as your pussy drips its juices onto the tiled floor of the clinic.

Harvey readjusts himself, leaning back up to take a good look at you, how your breasts bounce from your hips slapping together, how the sound travels around his office, and wildly how your face contorts when he finds that spot that makes you see stars. Once he finds the place once more, he changes his rhythm to ruthlessly pound into your g-spot as he gently applies pressure to your lower stomach and starts rubbing small circles into your clit with his other hand.

Your back arches off of the exam bed as you moan Harvey’s name for what could have been the hundredth time; you couldn’t have kept track if you had tried. From the angle he was pounding into you, you doubted that you could do anything but moan and wail as you continued to take the brutal thrusting from Harvey. This was far from the gentle touches and kisses that Harvey had given you earlier; this was pure animalistic Harvey. The Harvey that needed to be buried inside of your tight walls while he spilled his seed into you, the Harvey that needed you to cum on his cock over and over again before he was satiated.

Harvey had bucked his hips into yours, his rhythm slowly slowing to bucking and whimpers as he continued to brush small circles into your clit. You could feel the final wave of your orgasm coming, but before you could try to warm Harvey, you feel a coil within you snap, and a warm feeling flood your insides as a buzzing fills your head. You can feel Harvey double over, his head falling onto your chest as he gathers his breath. When he slowly pulls out of you, you can feel the cum slowly pooling out of you as Harvey sucks in a breath watching the pornographic scene in front of him.

“Yoba, I should have asked about a condom. I am so sorry-“ Before Harvey can continue his apologetic rant, you interrupt him with a deep kiss. Holding onto his shoulders, pulling him in deeper, wanting to pinch yourself and hoping to Yoba it wasn’t a dream. Thanking Yoba again that it wasn’t, you pull back from Harvey and decide you are a morning person.

Thank you for reading this coffee and joint-fueled smut; if you enjoyed please let me know because writer's block is a bitch, and I am struggling bussing this.