#and he tried to keep it going after that but me and my friend were both like 'no:) youre done now‚ good try though:) goodbye:)'

[lovecla]

TEACH ME (HOW TO MAKE HIM COME) | jack hughes.

nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, chapter five:

<last chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this kids), semi-public sex (don’t do this either), jealous jack, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 3.7k

💌 from me to you: you asked, and you shall receive. thank u so much for all the love you all gave to TM(HTMHC) and i hope this final chapter can make u guys happy. sorry if it sucks, though. hope y’all still like me :,)

𖧷

AS YOU put on Trevor’s jersey, you contemplate tonight's game.

It’s November again; the leaves keep falling from the trees, the wind is still cold and impersonal. You’re still tired from all the studying, constantly reevaluating yourself and staying up until late at night to write papers.

Life is still as simple as it was before everything. Before crushing on Zack, before going back to Newark in Summer, before sleeping with Jack Hughes, although— Is it really?

You and Jack hadn’t done anything in months. After fucking him for the last time, you woke up with a Trevor Zegras holding a Hockey stick and ready to break it in half with the help of Jack’s head, which made you snap at him.

“What is your problem, Trevor?!” You yell, barely awake and already pissed off at your brother’s doing. “Why are you here at seven in the morning, yelling at Jack and— is that a stick?”

Trevor lifts it up proudly, like he’s okay with beating Jack up. “Yeah, it is! And it’s about to see Jack’s pretty face.”

“Well—” Jack tries, but you’re not hearing any of it.

“Stop acting like I’m fifteen or whatever. If I want to have sex with him, then I will.”

“What— oh my God. See, this is why I never wanted you to be friends with her. They always end up falling in love, man,” Trevor shouts at Jack, who’s doing his best to hold in his laughter. It isn’t doing much, though. “Sarah, Jack isn’t the right guy for you! He’s a man whore!”

“Y’know I’m still here righ—”

“I don’t care, Trevor, geez,” you sit down on Jack’s couch, covering your face with your hands before speaking again. “I understand why you’re upset and I appreciate the fact that you’re taking care of me, but I’m an adult. I know how to take care of myself.”

“You’re twenty—”

“Besides,” Jack starts, this time his face is serious and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. “I’m not gonna hurt her, you asshole. Have a little faith in me, no?”

“No?” Trevor scoffs, putting the stick down. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking Sarah can’t stand up for herself, or that I will do anything to hurt her, intentionally. Like she’s just another one. Fuck off, Z.”

Trevor wouldn’t stop commenting about the two of you together, even when Jack wasn’t around you. It was tiring to say the least, so you decided to take the matter into your own hands and tell Jack that you were both done.

It was ridiculous, really, since you’ve grown to appreciate Jack’s company, not only as a friend, but as a possible future partner. Getting away from him wasn’t ideal, but if that was you needed to make Trevor shut up, then you’d do it.

Occasionally, you’d text each other, just normal conversations about how you’re doing, and how you’d wish you were together rather than studying for finals.

But today, the Devils were in Anaheim, playing against your brother’s team and you were going to watch them, for the first time ever. Not only you, though. It looks like all of your colleagues and friends are going— you’ve lost count of how many people texted you asking for free tickets.

You were agitated, since everything could go wrong tonight: your brother could go crazy and risk a penalty for punching Jack in the face, you and Jack would see each other after months and Zack was also going to be there.

In your defense, it hadn’t been your idea in the first place. Kiara suggested that you give the extra ticket Trevor gave to you to him, because it’d be a good excuse to talk to him and to leave the whole Jack situation behind.

But the truth is, you’re not really sure if you want to “leave the whole Jack situation behind”. You like him and you know he likes you back. Even though you had the biggest infatuation for Zack, it didn’t hold a candle to what Jack made you feel whenever he was inside you.

But, oh, well.

Now, it’s probably too late to ask Jack to try again. And even if it made you feel a little weird, you knew it was probably best this way.

𖧷

“OH, MAN, I can’t believe we lost.”

Zack’s complaints make you laugh. “I mean, it was kinda obvious. But, yeah, losing 6-2 is really tough.”

“We played well, though,” Kiara adds, trying to sound convincing. You and Zack both funnily stare at each other, choosing not to say anything. “Y’all are just mean. Sarah, it’s your brother’s team!”

“I know, I know,” you snicker. “Sorry. I’ll tell him he played well.”

“You’re seeing him tonight?” Zack asks, his brown eyes expressing curiosity. “Can I come? The Devils are fucking awesome!”

“Yes, we have, like, a little get together party, if you know what I mean,” you shrug, biting your lips. “I mean, you can definitely come if you want.”

Kiara eyes you eagerly as Zack smiles brightly at you, saying “thank you” at least a thousand times and rambling about how excited he was to meet actual NHL players in person.

You didn’t know if it had been a good idea to invite him, but you just felt bad to leave him out of the celebration— or what was supposed to be a celebration before Anaheim lost 6-2— since he was a huge Hockey fan. And even if you’re not all that interested in him anymore, he’s cool to hang out with.

Ever since you came back from Newark you’ve been spending more time with Zack. If anyone asks you anything, you won’t be able to tell them why is that, but you’re not complaining. It’s probably due to fact that you’re not that interested in him anymore, so you don’t have to worry about pleasing him all the time.

Now, you had much more interesting people to please.

You all walk to the dinner hall, where a bunch of players and coaches were talking and dining together, the Devils being loud and proud after a well played game, while most of the Ducks had pouty lips and frowns.

You walked around with Zack and Kiara, and quickly finding your brother, his loud voice outstanding everyone else’s.

“Holy fuck, that’s Jack Hughes.” Zack said, his tone not hiding his surprise and admiration.

You immediately turn your head to the side, confirming that Jack Hughes is, indeed, just a few steps ahead of you, chatting with your brother and a bunch of other players.

“Well, well, well…” Kiara whispers beside you and you discreetly shove her with your elbow, making her shove you back, playfully.

“I mean, we don’t have to talk to them right now, right?” You say, trying to find a way out. “They’re probably sad. I’d be sad if I lost a game.”

“Girl, what are you talking about?” Kiara rolls her eyes, clearly not taking a hint.

“Sarah, you can’t be serious!” Zack laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward. You widen your eyes, staring at his hand covering yours and then looking back at Kiara, who just looks like she’s having the time of her life.

Zack keeps his hand around yours as you approach your brother’s group, Jack’s eyes finding yours immediately before falling to your hands.

“Oh, hey there, ugly duck,” Trevor smiles at you, and you take advantage of the opportunity so you can separate your hand from Zack’s, walking until you’re hugging Trevor tighter than you had ever done before. “What the hell, why are you squeezing me?”

You wanted to punch him. “Oh, I just feel so sorry for you guys!” You try to sound devastated. “Losing is tough.”

“They’re used to it, aren’t you, chickens?” Bratt says, making people around you laugh, as your brother’s frown deepened.

“Fuck you.” Vatrano hisses back, and you let go of Trevor, standing beside him.

Someone calls some of the guys, and you almost yell at them so that they wouldn’t leave, but they do, leaving you alone with Trevor and. Well, Jack.

“I’m a huge fan!” Zack starts, smiling at Jack like he’s God almighty himself.

“Oh, really.” Jack says, and you can tell he’s not even trying to sound nice. You frown.

“Yeah. Ever since you joined the NHL. A long time ago.” Zack probably doesn’t notice Jack’s lack of manners, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything, continuing the conversation eagerly.

“Are you calling me old?” Jack raises his eyebrows, and Zack laughs, clearly oblivious.

Trevor eyes you weirdly, already familiar with Jack’s attitude problem.

“This sassy mean apocalypse needs to stop.” Kiara whispers in your ear and you’re seriously just two steps away from shoving her again.

“I was talking to my girl over there, you guys are fucking awesome and—”

“Your girl?”

You see, usually you’d expect this question to come out of Trevor’s lips, since he’s the most annoying person in the world. But once you saw Jack’s eyes turning a deep, ocean blue shade and his face starting to get red, you realize, with surprise, that Jack was the one who asked that.

You stare at him, but he wouldn’t look at you. He was staring at Zack, with his hands in his pocket.

“Oh, yeah, Sarah.”

A year ago you wouldn’t believe if anyone told you that you would want to kill Zack Brian with your own two hands, but at this moment, it’s all you want to do.

Why the hell is he talking about you like that?

“I didn’t know you were dating, Sarah.”

You gulp, looking up at Jack’s upset face, shaking your head immediately.

“Yeah, little sis, I also didn’t know you were dating.” Trevor said, wanting to sound angry, but you knew him well enough to realize that he was holding back his laughter, just like the little shit he is.

“I’m not— Zack and I aren’t dating.” You stutter, alternately looking at Jack and Trevor.

“Oh. You’re Zack?”

Jack can’t fucking be serious.

Zack is happy and smiling again. “Hell yes I am! Can we, like, take a picture together or something?”

This time, Trevor steps in and coughs, politely interrupting the conversation and finally— finally— doing something about this whole mess. “Sorry, man, can’t do it. We have to head back to the party, otherwise our coaches will kill us.”

You knew it was a lie, Keefe and Cronin didn’t care whether their players took pictures with people or missed parties. As long as they stayed out of trouble and played well, they didn’t really mind their players’ personal lives.

But you wouldn’t say anything, not when you were already in trouble.

“Oh, that’s fine, it’s cool,” Zack shrugs, not hiding his disappointment. You almost pass out when you catch a glimpse of a smile on Jack’s lips. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other opportunities.”

“Sure, sure,” Trevor smiles, throwing his arms around you once again. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I—” you look around, biting your lips. “I don’t want to leave Zack alone.”

Even though you did want to leave him alone, you just couldn’t. He had been so excited when you invited him to the game, talking about it for an entire week before tonight.

“He can come too.”

You stare at Jack, not missing the way his lips curled up, and his eyes still looked darker.

“Type shit? You really are the goat, man, fuck yeah!” Zack celebrates and you stare at Kiara, who’s also looking a little bit worried now.

“Great,” you say through your teeth, stepping away from Trevor. “Let’s go, then.”

God, please help me.

𖧷

“SO, FOR how long have you and Sarah been friends?”

You wanted to smash Trevor’s face against a wall and twist his arm until he started crying.

You were sitting at his table, surrounded by other players, Kiara, Zack, Luke and Jack. Fortunately, Kiara had been successful at keeping Jack and Luke bored with her stories about college drama, so Jack wasn’t really focusing on you, or Zack for that matter.

Unlike Trevor, who’s constantly making remarks about your friendship.

“Not long.” You answer, shooting daggers at him with your eyes.

“But you seem really close.” He insists, smiling innocently.

“Sarah’s really cool,” Zack starts, and again you remind yourself that if he had said this not even seven months ago, you’d be smiling and dancing. But now, all you want is to tell him to leave. “We get along really well.”

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? I’m glad to call her my sister.”

“Trevor,” you smile, kicking him under the table. “Stop it.”

“No, no, I like when people compliment you. Makes me proud—”

You get up abruptly, making at least five people look at you, Jack included. Blushing, you smile awkwardly. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Walking fast, you make your way to the bathroom, walking down an empty hallway, finding the bathroom quickly. You got in, thanking God that no one was in there.

Jesus. What the hell is going on with both Jack and Trevor?

You understood if Jack was upset with you, because if it was the other way around, you would be just the same, even if you weren’t an actual couple. But Trevor helping the fire grow? He’s just being a child.

“He’s so obvious it’s embarrassing.”

Letting out a yelp, you stare at the man you’ve been thinking of everyday since the Summer, who’s now leaning against the bathroom door and smirking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Well, you’re clearly not peeing,” he starts, approaching you slowly. “And I can’t stand that dick face anymore. Does he not know that complimenting you to your brother won’t get him anything?”

“Leave him alone, Jack,” you roll your eyes. “He’s just being nice.”

“He’s into you. You know that, right?”

You scoff, finding it genuinely funny. “Of course he isn’t. We’re just friends. He’s just being nice, I just told you.”

“I thought you were a smart girl.” He wets his lips and not looking at it feels like fighting against ten thousand demons.

“Are you calling me dumb? To my face?” You raise your brow, watching as he frowns.

“I’m just saying that I thought you weren’t so oblivious, baby. When I told you you’re everyone’s type? I meant it.”

“Jack,” you sigh, defeated. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because,” he steps closer, looking down at you. “It drives me insane to think that there’s a fuckhead sitting just a few feet away from us that thinks he’s the shit and won’t take your name out of his mouth.”

Your eyes softened, and you smile at him. “You’re jealous.”

“That’s for people who are insecure, baby. And that you already know that I’m not,” he smirks, resting his right hand on your chin, and you can feel his breath hit your face, making you hold back an embarrassing sound. “Do you need me to remind you how good I am?”

Your eyes double in size and you shake your head.

“Are you insane?” You shout-whisper. “You’re supposed to be back in New Jersey in a few hours. This is your team’s celebration dinner, for God’s sake. You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

He kisses you bruisingly, your teeth touching with the agressive yet extremely sweet action, and you moan inside his mouth, not realising, until now, how much you’ve missed him.

It was wrong but not kissing him felt even more wrong.

He gently pushes you further into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and putting you on the counter, making you hiss with the coldness of the marble against your exposed thighs and throbbing core.

“Jack.”

“Fuck, I missed hearing you say my name. One more time for me, pretty.”

“Jack.”

He kisses you again, and you busy yourself with messing up his hair, still a little bit damp from his previous shower. It smells nice and fresh, just like the rest of his body.

“We need to be quick,” You whisper against his mouth, his eyes staring at you, lust and desire written all over his face. “We’re not even supposed to be here and we don’t have time—”

“Put your hands on that wall over there,” he whispers, signaling to the wall on the other side of the bathroom. “I’m gonna fuck you from behind. Is that okay?”

“As long as you fuck me.” You shrug, getting off the counter and doing as he says.

He laughs. “I’ve created a monster.”

He’s quickly behind you, and you hear the filthy sound of his hands unzipping his fancy pants, as you quickly lift your skirt, putting your panties to the side.

“Spit.” Jack asks— orders—, putting his hand in front of your lips, and you do, the red that painted your cheeks deepening.

He’s inside you not long after that, and you both moan loudly, forgetting for a few seconds that there are at least one hundred people outside. You can feel your walls squeezing his cock as you try to find some kind of support on the wall in front of you.

“Jesus fuck, Sarah, how are you even tighter than last time?”

“Because, ah,” he’s pouding against you, the sound of his crouch slapping against your ass making you feel dirty and so fucking good. “Haven’t been with a-anyone else.”

“No?” You can hear the smirk on his face. “Just your little fingers then?”

You nod with your head, eagerly moving it up and down, moaning loudly and just a few seconds away from ruining your makeup.

“Baby, you need to be quiet,” Jack says, and his hand slowly leaves your waist, making its way to your mouth, caressing your entire body before it covers your lips completely. “I love it when you’re loud but have you forgotten we’re not alone?”

You roll your eyes at him, as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that makes you see the entire galaxy without needing a telescope. His dick is deep inside you, so fucking deep.

“Jack, fu—”

“Sarah?”

You and Jack both freeze as Zack’s voice echoes through the room. He removes his hand from your mouth and rests his forehead against your head.

“Oh my God.” You whisper, ready to remove yourself from Jack’s grip and leave the bathroom.

Jack doesn’t have the same thought as you, though. He removes his length until just the tip is inside you, just to slam his cock inside of you again, reaching deeper than before.

You bite your lips hardly, feeling the taste of coper fill your mouth, the pain of tearing your lips hardly noticeable— your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that it seemed too insignificant to be preoccupied with a little bit of blood.

“Sarah, are you okay?”

“Answer him,” Jack whispers, as he keeps fucking you, this time reaching down and rubbing your swollen clit too. “Sarah. Answer him.”

“I— I—,” stuttering, you try to focus. “Y-yes?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Jack pinches your sensitive nub and you can feel the tears start to form in your eyes.

“Pretty.”

“I’m, f-fine, ah,” you shake your head, putting your hand on top of Jack’s but not making any move to stop him. “Just— headache.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want any help?”

“Fucking asshole,” Jack mumbles, your orgasm building up quickly than ever. “Tell him you’re fine, baby. Come on.”

“I’m fine, ah, thank you.” Biting your own hand, you feel your body shivering underneath Jack’s. “I’ll be b-back in just a second.”

“Alright,” Zack sounds convinced. “I’ll warn your brother.”

Even with your loud breathing you can hear Zack’s steps as he gets further away from the bathroom, and you barely have time to think properly before Jack is slamming his cock hard and fast inside of you again.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, tell me. Does it turn you on the fact that anyone could catch us at any moment?”

Yes.

“Too bad I don’t share what’s mine.”

“Jack—”

“Fucking asshole wanted to be the one inside you right now,” he snarls. “No one will ever fuck you like I do, baby.”

“Hmh,”

“This pussy here,” he pinches your clit again, twisting it between his fingers making you gasp for air. “Will only get this wet for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“You were made to take my cock, baby. Made to be mine.”

Your makeup was most definitely ruined by now. It didn’t matter. Your mind was too focused on coming to care about anything else.

“Say it, baby, come on.” Jack whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards.

“It’s yours, Jack,” you nod with your head, feeling your orgasm closer than before. “I’m yours, and I missed you so bad and—”

You come on his fingers, your thighs shaking as he continues to poud on you, not caring if you’re sensitive or not. He takes his dick out of your pussy after a few more thrusts, coming all over your cheeks.

Your uncontrolled breathing fills up the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat making you blush. Jack’s forehead is on your shoulder, and you can sense he’s just as tired as you.

“Sarah,” he mumbled, and you sigh, humming. “Be my girlfriend. I don’t care about Zegras, I never did. I’ll let him beat me up everyday if that means you’ll be the one helping me get up at the end of the day.”

You chuckle tiredly. “So romantic, aren’t you, Hughes?”

“I try my best.” He murmurs against your skin.

“I will be your girlfriend. But just know that if you cheat on me, or anything like that, Trevor will fuck you up, and I’ll let him.” You say, laughing quietly.

He moves so he can grab a piece of paper, wetting it and cleaning you, making you shiver with the cold water on your back.

“If my own brothers don’t kill me first.”

“Touche.”



[straylightdream]

I’m not sharing | kmg

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: kim mingyu x f.reader

↳ “I swear to god Kim Mingyu I’m going to ban you from sharing a bed with me ever again, if you don’t stop stealing my blanket,” you whined as you pulled harshly on the blanket that was wrapped around him. You immediately woke him up. He had a startled look on his sleepy face.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: the mc is mad at mingyu, fluff, mentions of an almost wonwoo x reader in the past, wonwoo is Mingyu roommate, smut warning below the cut

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

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

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, big dick mingyu, trying to stay quiet so wonwoo doesn’t hear, super sweet fluffy sex

Chilly winter nights were the worst for you. As someone who easily gets cold the only way you could sleep is with the heater on and bundled up in a blanket.

After a terrible week at work you decided to cheer yourself up by staying at your boyfriend's house. Luckily you’re also friends with roommate Wonwoo, so he didn’t mind you spending multiple days basically living with them.

Curled up in bed you couldn’t sleep because of how cold you are. You’re practically shivering after Mingyu pulled your blanket away from you while he slept. You love your boyfriend dearly but sharing a bed with him sometimes is extremely difficult.

“I swear to god Kim Mingyu I’m going to ban you from sharing a bed with me ever again, if you don’t stop stealing my blanket,” you whined as you pulled harshly on the blanket that was wrapped around him. You immediately woke him up. He had a startled look on his sleepy face.

He looked over at you, and immediately he could tell you were pissed based on the look on your face. You pulled on the blanket again. He was trying his hardest not to laugh at your attempts to take your blanket back. You didn’t really stand a chance of pulling it away from his large body. Him constantly working out was a blessing and a curse right now.

“Baby you’re supposed to share with me,” he smiled, egging you on.

“Mingyu, I'm not sharing my blanket. I’m freezing,” you were shivering as you tugged on the blanket. You wouldn’t be this cold if Mingyu did constantly keep the room the temperature of an ice box. This man absolutely refused to turn his fan off even during the chilly winter months. You could go without turning a space heater on if he would compromise and turn off the damn fan.

“Don’t make me go to Wonwoo room to see if he’ll cuddle me,” you whine, still tugging on the blanket.

He tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at the mention of his roommate. He knows Wonwoo liked you enough that if you did go and ask him to cuddle to get revenge on your boyfriend he would absolutely do it and not even question your motives. The thought of you leaving him to go cuddle with his best friend wasn’t his favorite idea. He smiled at you and unwrapped himself from the blanket. He knew if he messed with you anymore, you were literally going to kick him out of bed or actually leave him to go share Wonwoo bed. Roughly you grabbed the blanket and quickly wrapped yourself up in the blanket and glared over at Mingyu who was grabbing the light sheet at the foot of the bed. “Is there any way we can share that?” he asked using his best puppy dog eyes. You shook your head softening your harsh stare. “Baby I’m cold. Please share with me,” he whined.

“Maybe you should turn down your fan then.” You would commonly get in little disagreement about how cold Mingyu keeps his room. As a couple you rarely fight. Your only real issue is the temperature of his room when you stay over. When he stays at your place he knows he can’t even ask for the ceiling fan to be on.

“You weren’t sharing with me. Why should I share with you?” You glare at him, as you’re completely bundled up.

He couldn’t believe you wouldn’t share the blanket. He watched you cuddle into the blanket and close your eyes. He gently shook his head to himself and slowly moved over next to you. Your eyes popped open as you watched him gently lift the blanket. You stared at him with narrow eyes watching him curl up close to you. He wrapped his arms around you so you were both under the warm blanket. His body heat is a welcomed warmth even though you’re mad at him.

He moved his face up and pressed his lips to your bare shoulder. Without saying a word he kept peppering light kisses across your warm skin. Your gaze softened as his lips grazed your skin.

“Are you trying to kiss your way into my good graces?” You asked as he rolled you so you were laying on your back.

Without saying a word, he moved so he was hovering over you and pepper kisses across your lips and down your jaw. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth as he continued to kiss his way down your neck. You reached for his face wanting to feel his soft lips against your again. Your lips connected again for a rough and passionate kiss.

His lips brushed against yours as he whispered, “you’re so cute when you get mad at me.”

If his lips hadn’t been distracting you, you would have gotten mad at his comment. He once again kissed his way down your neck. Lightly nipping as his lips ghosted across your skin.

“Am I forgiven for taking your blanket?” he asked, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

You shook your head and smiled at him, “you’re lucky you’re good at kissing.”

He smiled as he leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to yours.

“I know how I can warm you up,” he smiles.

“I’m too cold to get naked.”

“Are you wearing panties with your sleep shorts?” He knows you all too well. He knows you hate sleeping with underwear on. “Are you cold?” You know he’s not but you feel the need to ask.

“No baby, and if you let me I can warm you up,” he gives you that cheesy goofy smile he gives you all the time.

Rolling your eyes you try your hardest not to smile at his cheesy line. “You’re such a dork.”

He rolls his boxer cover erection against your barely covered core.

“Why are you assuming I’m wet for you after you annoyed me?”

He gives you a smirk he knows makes you weak. “Because I know you, and I know that even when I annoy you I can still make you wet with very little effort.”

Leaning your head up a little you press your lips to his. “You’re lucky I love you.”

He presses his lips to yours for another quick kiss, “I’m lucky you picked me over Wonwoo.” You think back to when you first met the roommates. Originally Seungcheol was attempting to set you up with Wonwoo but when you met Mingyu you immediately clicked. Wonwoo even pointed it out before you even have a chance to see if you would work out romantically.

“You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“Never.”

Your hand claws at his shoulder as you spread your legs more. “I thought you were going to warm me up?”

“Do you want me to warm you up?” He’s still wearing that same smirk.

Reaching between you, you grope his straining erection in his boxers. “Please.”

He pulls away from you and removes his boxers, tossing them from out of the covers. You shimmy of your pajama bottoms quickly. Never leaving the covers. He makes quick work of crawling on top of you again. He grinds his length between your folds.

“Warm me up,” you say before pressing your lips to his.

Ever so slowly he pushes into you. Biting your lip you hold back a moan. Wonwoo and Mingyu share a bedroom wall and you don’t want Wonwoo to know what’s happening between you.

Your legs wrap around Mingyu holding him close to you as he thrust into you at a slow yet steady pace. His hands are on each side of your head, caging you in.

Leaning down he presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss muffling your moans. The feel of him stretching you with his slow but firm thrust makes you feel like you’re seeing stars. Your fingers tangled in his hair holding face closer to yours. You fall apart with your lips against his. Silently gasping into his mouth.

His own release follows shortly after. He paints your walls white slowly rolling his hips into your as he rides out his high.

He doesn’t make an effort to pull out once he’s calmed down. He pulls his lips away from yours and gives you a gentle smile. Your hand rests on his cheek. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No,” you let out a soft laugh. No matter how hard you try it’s quite hard to stay mad at him sometimes.

[chariaki]

Marriage?

Kento x reader

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

"Darling, why does this alien keep following me?"

"Huh? Ohh!!...Kento, sweetheart... that's called a creeper. It's following you 'cause it wants to explode near you and kill you."

You recently taught you're boyfriend, Kento Nanami, how to play minecraft...and surprisingly, he's doing wonderful. In a span of 3 days, he created a garden, a pool and a bakery in creative mode. And yesterday, he's tried survival mode for the first time.

"Well, that's not very polite. I even shared my meat with him..."

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Pfff-"

"Did I say something funny, love?"

It's day 2 of your sweet boyfriend trying to maneuver his way in survival mode. He's doing terrific, hasn't died yet! He managed to build up on his food and inventory. And you told him countless times to build atleast a tiny house in order to protect him at night, but he keeps saying that he'll do it later because he has to prepare a looootttt.

"Kento, baby... creepers aren't interested in meat or making friends. They're simply there to explode and kill those around them"

"Oh. Well, then I guess I should run away from him."

"Yup, you definitely should."

He wouldn't even let you peak at his device! He'd be playing in the corner, like a weird teenager.

"How ya holding up? Can I please see what you're doing, baby?" You emphasize the word "please", hoping that Nanami would give in. But, he wouldn't even look at your puppy eyes!!

"No, sweetheart. I told you I'll show you when I'm done."

"Tsk. What are you even planning?" You pout, bouncing your legs on his lap, foot poking at his side.

He grabs your foot and places it on his lap again. He's playing minecraft on one hand, while the other massages your feet! What a man, indeed.

"It's a secret" He says in a singong tone, leaning over to grab the remote on the coffee table and peck your lips.

"Here, baby. Why don't you distract your pretty eyes with some television entertainment, and I'll get back to you with my finished work. Sound good, hmm? "

"okay... "

How were supposed to counter that when he kissed you so lovingly and whispered to you so softly?

A few hours had gone by. A variety show piqued your interest , however, you were more enamoured by the way you're boyfriend was so focused on his device. You could see the determination in his eyes.

He would also ask you random questions like "would you prefer wooden or tiled floors?" or "what colors would you like to see in a place?" And you would always answer quickly because you've been anticipating him, and the way he would hum in thought, then kiss you as a "thank you. "

You guessed he was finally building a himself a house.

But you were wrong.

He was building you and him a home.

He proudly and nervously handed you his phone, telling you to explore his carefully crafted house.

"I'm finished, love. Take a look at our house. I built it for us. This and so much more will be our life when we get married."

You were quite impressed, considering he built it in survival mode and for his first time doing so.

"Our house? Married? Marriage?"

It's an understatement to say that you were "flustered". You were red, stuttery, fidgety and baffled.

You did not expect him to bring that up. You've only been dating for a year. But don't get it wrong, you truly love Nanami, it's just that you didn't expect him to feel so strongly towards you to already consider marriage after only a year of dating!?

He chuckled. His deep, beautiful voice that reverberated through your heart.

"Yes, yn. Marriage. I-I'm not proposing to you right now! I'm just reminding you how much I love you, and that I'm more than ready to spend my lifetime with you."

He holds caresses your hands, eyes maintaining gentle, loving contact.

"I love you, Kento. Thank you, darling."

He leans in closer to kiss you. But you interrupt him midway. You whisper.

"Soooo, when are you going to propose?"

"Soon. In a beautiful place I know you'll like, with delicious food, a calming ambience, and just the two of there to experience it. "

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Kento Nanami, you're boyfriend of one year, builds you a house in minecraft to profess his love for you and confess that he's ready to upgrade to husband mode.

[burning-omen]

Happy (Belated) Halloween!

Jason Todd x Demon!male!reader

(A/n: I'm tired, I've been getting argued at and pulled into fights that have nothing to do with me from the time I woke up- had a bunch of chores and shit to do and the fucking grocery store was packed and people keep bumping into me and all the fucking prices went way up since the last time I was there less than a month ago- I'm thoroughly overstimulated and getting home to edit and rewrite certain parts of this shitty little fic was a probably the best part of my day.)

Warning: crack fic kinda, blood, Demon!reader, murder, mutilation, and gore, summoning gone right technically, reader has TWO dicks, size difference, overstimulation, masochism, probably misspellings idk I'm not reading it again that's your job, dom/sub, ownership marking, sacrifice (rip that guy, ive been calling him marvin in my head), going missing for a lil while (consensually), OOC jason todd but this is literally porn who cares

word count: 1981 (short, i know, shut up/j)

Halloween parties were the worst. If the loud, drunk, half-naked crowd wasn’t enough to convince Jason, walking in on an honest to god seance was.

Being dragged to a party by Dick, only to lose him in the crowd of people within the first few minutes. He just wanted some quiet- and under the guise of looking for how brother he managed to avoid nearly every conversation that came his way- except for some incomprehensible drunk girl who insisted on holding a conversation with his even though she sounded like she was under water every time she opened her mouth.

He eventually managed to escape from her, finding the nearest room to recuperate in, only to be greeted by a room of chanting, drunk party-goers, kneeling around a shakily drawn yet intricate summoning circle. The chant was Latin- super old Latin- and Jason really wanted no part in this. He knew that demons were real, he knew a lot of shit that was supposedly fake was real- he had Batman to thank for that. So, after standing in the room for about 30 seconds, he decided to leave.

Turning on his heel, not saying a word to whatever party cult he just walked in on- deadset on leaving when he heard choking, and gasps from the mini cult as they clamored around the chanter who had suddenly collapsed.

Taking in a deep breath, cursing Bruce and the unwavering need to help he instilled in all of his children, before turning back to the group.

Laying, choking in the middle of the circle was a young man-

‘He’s drunk,’ Jason thought, pushing through the group surrounding him, their concern was nice- but unhelpful ‘probably choked on his tongue.’

Tilting his head back, the choking became louder- tears streamed down his face, his mouth agape as he clawed at his throat- his eyes desperate and afraid.

“It’s okay,” Jason tried, but he wasn’t exactly known for his bedside manner. “Just let me look.”

He peered down the man's throat- his tongue was wear it was supposed to be, but blood still filled the man’s mouth. Clearly whatever was happening here was internal, there's nothing Jason could do for him. Before he could ask anyone to call an ambulance- he saw something move at the very back of his throat. Even through the pooling blood, he could tell something wasn’t right- what the hell did he swallow?

His neck bulged as something made its way up- that was good- maybe. Slowly pushing up- whatever it was- caused the man to cry out in pain. He coughed and sputtered as it moved up and up until it pushed past the muscles of his throat and out of his mouth. A hand, clawed- drenched in blood, moving with so much force that a crack sounded through the room as more and more of the form inside him- whatever it was- came out. Breaking his jaw to finally reach out and grab his face- he cried out as pain and panic filled him- he turned to Jason for help as his friends fled but there wasn’t anything Jason could do but sit there in horror as an arm lifted from his broken and mutilated face- he cheeks tearing in as his mouth opened to unnatural length.

The bloody arm clawed at the floor, sharp talon like nails leaving deep wounds in the wood. Jason backed away- fear as well as guilt taking over. The basic instinct that anyone who had even taken the moniker “Robin” knew took over soon after, he needs to call batman- he couldn’t handle whatever this is, not on his own. He reached for his phone right as the candle lit room suddenly went dark. Jason, usually so strong and sure, didn’t know what to do. His communicator clattered to the floor as he stood.

He swore quietly- backing up until he was pressed against the wall- the sound of flesh tearing filled the room- still hot blood splattered across his face.

A soft growl came from the dark, deep and steady and growing closer by the second. Then,as if they had never been out, the candles were re-lit.

A massive beastly thing stood above him, horned and winged- a long tail trailing behind it. Soaked in the blood of the man that was scattered in chunks around the room. Despite knowing that he should definitely be afraid, a man had been ripped from the inside out right in front of him, something somewhere in his mind was saying, “would”. The thought immediately made him cringe at himself- he could not survive that- not only were you massive, you were also very naked. With not one but two just as massive, heavy cocks resting between your legs. He’d die, simply put, torn in half Terrifier style.

“Scared, human?” You asked, voice just as inhuman as your form.

Suddenly unable to find his words, Jason shook his head.

The action made you purr- something was so wrong with this man, not running or screaming, but instead sitting before you, his eyes wandering over your body, face reddened as his heart pounded in his chest.

He didn’t even attempt to move when you reached for him, his breath caught in his throat, but he remained perfectly still as you stroked his hair, then ran the backside of your claws down his cheek. All the way down to his chest, pressing just the tip of your claw in, watching as his shirt quickly became stained with blood.

“Not scared? How brave of you, human. “ You mused, “I require sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” he barely managed.

Trailing your claw lower and lower until the point of it rested over the growing bulge in his pants.

“A sacrifice of life is usually offered.” You pressed down, “But, another kind of offering will suffice.”

Jason breathed out- he can’t. Mentally, he could- he’s done all kinds of weird shit, fucking a demon wouldn’t even come close to the worse things he done- it doesn’t even reach top ten with the rest of his family’s track record for weird shit. But physically, that would kill him. One alone would shatter his pelvis and probably paralyze him- two would just straight up kill him. And you really didn’t seem like the kind of demon to go half way- you did come all the way from hell after all.

The obvious thing to do was to say no and call a fucking exorcist- but Jason didn’t do that, instead he speaks, so sure and steady as he spoke-

“Can you shrink?”

The entirety of your form became, your horns no longer scraped the ceiling, but you were still massive above Jason. You didn’t make it easy for him- pressing him into the floor with one clawed hand gripping his hair tightly, knees pressed into the hard wood and legs spread wide open, his cock- which you decided needed to remain untouched for the “sacrifice” to be valid.

Labored breathing, gasping and all encompassing sobs filled the room as both of your cock stretched him to the limit every time you thrusted into him- his nearly blunt nails leaving marks in the wooden floor below him.

With his mouth hanging wide open- he begged- muttering a broken “Please-’’ between moans-

You leaned down, pulling him up by his hair- resting inside him before speaking.

“You want more, human?”

Eyes brimmed with tears, feeling far fuller than felt natural- but so good and warm at the exact same time- deep in his stomach all the down to the very tips of his toes, every nerve so very alive.

He nods, shortly and without hesitation.

You grip on his hair loosens, and he sighs in relief as the burning pain in his scalp stops.

Only to flair up in his hips as you dig your claws into them, literally. Piercing through skin and drawing blood that slid over his skin and pooled beneath him on the floor. Jason, ever the masochist, only gets louder. With the party outside still raging on, you're sure the sound blended into the background- and any attendee lucky enough to have heard the high, whiny moans was listening far too hard.

Thrusting became painful, hard slamming- both cocks abusing his prostate with unnatural accuracy. Pulling out until the tips of your cock were just barely inside of him- then pressing back in so hard his entire body was pushed forward.

Jason’s mind was loud and incoherent - incomplete thoughts running through his head, cut short by either pain or pleasure every single time.

His body spammed unwillingly, muscles tightening and releasing, his hole tightened around you in an attempt to suck you in more- even if more would cause so so many problems for the man.

“So greedy,” you hummed in his ear, and you take cock so well.”

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t, overwhelmed and obsessed with the feeling. His orgasm- the first of many snuck up on him, his body overstimulated and oversensitive as hot, white cum shot straight onto the floor.

He gasped for air as though he’d been held under water- his body burned as he clenched around you- pleasure gone- replaced by what could only be described as fire destroying him from the inside out. He cried out in pain, his body writhes and contorts- and yet he never asks you to stop.

You grinned, “so cute, I might just have to keep you, human.”

You weren’t far behind him, cum seeping from both of your tips as you buried yourself deep inside him- it only added to the burning. Filling him so much until his hole, still plugged with your cock, leaks it back out. Down his legs and onto the floor, mixing with his own puddle of cum. You watched him for a long moment, letting him grit his teeth and cry at the pain, before showing your newest pet a bit of mercy and pulling out.

His body slouched onto the floor the moment you leg go. Jason was on the verge of passing out, eyes barely open, covered in blood, sweat, and cum. He has a high pain tolerance and his stamina was through the roof- but fucking hell he was so tired, and everything hurt, from his over used knees, to his damn near broken hole, and the small wounds your claws had made- coupled with an over bearing overstimulation making everything ten times worse- Jason, without question, was never doing this again.

—--- A couple weeks later—---

Dick realized that Jason wasn’t a party person, but for him to just disappear (and possibly kill someone at the party??? What the hell Jay???) for weeks seemed to be a bit of an overreaction.

But when he walked into the manor, happy as can be, after just being gone for three weeks, Dick knew something was very wrong- or very unusual- was happening.

“I had a date.” Was Jason’s only response, as he leaned heavily against the back of a chair, but never actually sat down in it.

“A date?!” Dick is so glad he questioned him in private. “With who?”

Jason shrugged, “met a guy at the party.”

“Jason you just dropped off of the face of the Earth with some guy for nearly a month?!”

Dick didn’t realize how literal that was- Hell has some pretty nice residential areas, it turns out.

“I was having fun.”

Jason, of course, was never going to tell Dick what he has really been doing- or what he will continue to be doing for the foreseeable future- but it was fun watching him freak out at every vague answer he gave.

The mark (brand?? Tattoo??) on his back still felt weird, sensitive from its spot hidden under his clothes, but how else would other demon, humans, and every other sentient being know that he was yours.

(a/n 2: AND I KNOW ITS LATE BUT I STILL FINISHED IT WITHIN A REASONABLE TIME SO EVERYBODY SHUT UP/j)

[star-suh]

Scream

Choi San x Male Reader

cw: top ghostface san, sadist undertones, degradation, dubcon, drunk-ish encounter at first, knife play, anonymous sex?, some edging, handjob, blood play, blowjob, cum eating, breeding, manhandling, nipple play, ripped clothes, choking, semi-public sex, bareback, san is mean to the reader.

an: i think this is way darker than what i usually write ngl bcs i don’t know what happened in my mind when i thought about the knife part.

also this is the last halloween special fic, enjoy!! 🎃

it’s halloween week and the murders attributed to ghostface haven’t stopped, it doesn’t help at all that somehow everyone has taken a liking in dressing as him, costume stores ran out of black capes and ghostface masks. “what’s wrong with people?” yn mutters to his friend wooyoung, “i don’t know, maybe it’s the idea of a sexy hot dude under all those clothes” he tries to reason, “yeah but if they all disguise as him it would be difficult to know who’s the real murderer” yn adds. wooyoung shrugs “dumbasses for real”.

“are you going to tonight’s party at my fraternity?” wooyoung asks his friend, “i would feel better if i can keep an eye close to you, you know, i don’t want you to be in the newspaper tomorrow” the joke makes them both laugh “you stupid” yn smacks him lightly on the shoulder “ok i’ll go. but first i have to choose a costume” he says, eyeing his phone. “you could just go naked and say you are a slut, it would be fun. best costume of the night if you ask me” wooyoung blurted out, “shush, i don’t want you to fuck me with your eyes” yn puts his hand on top of the other’s face, covering his eyes and pushing his face away from him “nasty woo”.

store after store yn tried to find a cool costume but it seems that all they sell now is the ghostface one, “why is he so popular” yn speaks to the air, “sigh… i guess i’ll just go disguised as a frat boy” he grabs his phone from his pocket and dial a known number, “hey woo can you lend me your jacket, i’ll go as a frat boy”, “sure bro” woo affirms, “just don’t be late”.

loud music, flashing lights and neon signs decorated the venue, the fraternity house was full with people, a perfect place for a murderer some might say, but they don’t seem to care. “ok here i go” yn takes a deep breath and walks closer to the entrance. man doesn’t like to go to parties, they feel like they drown all his energy but he’s doing it to not worry his dear friend. “you came” wooyoung runs towards yn and hugs him, offering him a cup of liquor he is holding in one of his hands, “yeah…” yn laughs awkwardly while looking around, spotting all the ghostfaces in there, but one in particularly caught his attention. he was standing next to the stairs, he was not moving at all as if he was a statue, but yn could feel his gaze piercing into him, that sensation when someone stares at you but multiplied like 50 times, it was creeping him out.

“umm.. wooyoung?” yn turns around to seek his friend but he wasn’t there anymore, now he looks back at the creepy man and he wasn’t there either, “calm down yn haha you just need to relax, that’s right, just relax” he talks to himself while grabbing a cup of liquor and chugging it all at once. hours passed and yn seems to have forgotten about the creepy dude, thanks to the alcohol in his system. he starts to explore the house, visiting every room on the first floor and now going upstairs, not noticing that from afar someone’s been watching him. “is this woo’s room?” he says feeling tipsy and opened the door, there were two couples in there fucking, thanks to the music they didn’t hear the door opening so yn quietly closed it. his face red in embarrassment and a little tent forming on his pants, “what the fuck” he tries to cover his growing bulge and went running to another room sitting on the bed there. the alcohol didn’t help to cover his hard dick, it was aching, it needed to be liberated from that clothed prison. letting himself get carried away by the pleasure he pulls up his white shirt, biting the hem so it doesn’t get stained when he cums. he tugs his pants down along with his briefs and starts to stroke it, spitting some saliva on his hand to coat his dick with it. he throws his head back, grunting and whimpering in pleasure when suddenly his strokes stopped, but it wasn’t for him, he felt someone else’s hand so he quickly tries to get away from whoever is doing ir, when he looks up a man with a ghostface costume was there, continuing the handjob. “let go please” yn’s body squirmed, the other guy was stroking him but with more pressure. “pleassee” he slurred, his thighs pressing together to try and hide his dick. his dick was getting dry because the anon guy wiped the precum off of his tip with his thumb, yn sees how the man lifts up his mask a bit and a thread of spit falls on top of his tip, he uses it to lubed it and strokes it faster and harder. “hngh wait. slo-slowly. ahhh” a deep voice then suddenly speaks, “okay” and he stops.

next thing yn knew is that his bottom half was completely naked, his dick, balls and ass in full display for the other pervert to see, “you told me to stop but your body is betraying you” his dick and hole throbbing for the thrill, the unexpected pleasure an anonymous guy was giving him, “that’s not-” yn was cut out when the masked man introduced his index finger on his hole. the ring of muscles gripping on it, yn’s hips moved on his own signaling he was close to his climax but ghostface stopped pulling his finger away of the hungry hole, “you will only cum when i say so” he pulls out a knife and scrape the cold metal against yn’s tigh catching him off guard. “what the f-” he was about to scream but then man acted fast enough to cover his mouth, “scream and i’ll gut you while you’re conscious” the sharp blade sliding gently in between his thigh, a fine line of blood coming out of it. he lifts his mask once again showing his creepy yet perfect smile, his wet tongue licking the blood out of the recently made wound, “amuse me tonight and maybe i won’t kill you tonight. think about it you could be the savior of these stupid people, no murders tonight and maybe tomorrow all you have to do is be my slut” the creepy yet sexy smirk on his face would haunt yn from now on. the hand on yn’s mouth slowly undiscovered it and he started to put his fingers inside yn’s mouth and then same on his hole again with the other half, “look at you accepting to be a murderer’s sex toy. you don’t have an ounce of self-respect, do you?”, yn started to cry thinking how low he’s gone now but those thoughts were suddenly replaced by ones with pleasure when four digits entered his ass with the middle one brushing his prostate every time it goes in, “fuck you” yn muttered, with the other’s thumb still inside his mouth, that is now covered in spit. yn’s hole was already so stretched that ghostface’s four fingers entered so easily so he decided to try something thicker. something cold entered inside yn, he lifts himself up to see what was it, he was shocked after realize the murderer was fucking him with the knife handle, “you’re fucking crazy, pull that out of me” with a swift motion yn moved backwards managing to pull it out, “what a pussy” the masked man purred, he stands up grabbing yn by the hips and pulling him closer, “you’re getting on my fucking nerves” that fucking sexy deep voice spoke, he lifts his black cape showing he was only wearing a pair of jeans under it, his torso completely naked showing yn how ripped he was. “fucking looser” he unzips his pants and pulls out his shaft, covering it in his spit and ramming himself inside yn with no mercy, the latter crying out loud feeling his prostate being abused by the other’s veiny fat cock.

his shaft stretched his walls to the max, yn would swear he would not be able to walk after this at least for a week, this provokes that yn mutter curses towards the masked murderer that went unnoticed by the top, whose growls and moans didn’t let him catch clearly what the other was saying, he just chased his own pleasure now.

ghostface grabbed yn by the neck and made him turn around fucking him doggy style, with his hands around the other’s neck to squeeze occasionally, he loves how yn’s grips so hard onto his dick when the oxygen starts to lack on his brain, truly a psycho. grabbing him by his neck, ghostface pulls yn closer towards him, his back against his toned muscles and heaving chest. he starts to explore under yn’s shirt, playing with his nipples, pinching them “nice tits manwhore” ghostface praises and immediately rips his shirt apart leaving him now completely naked, the cold air making yn’s skin crawl, “bet you like being used like this, just a human fleshlight for everyone to dump their spunk on you”. “noo” yn refuted, “i’m not like that”. ghostface keeps plowing yn continuously, his hole already sore and agape with droplets of cum coming out of it, yn has already lost count how many times ghostface has came inside him but that pleasure was always denied to him with the other stopping the fucking or straight up threatening him with the knife. “guess that’s enough for today” he says as the last drop of cum is spurted inside yn. he then turns yn around to see how fucked up he was and glorify himself for it, then he notices the red aching cock begging for release so in what could seem his first act of pity he lifts his mask once again and suck him off, his sexy lips going up and down while his tongue is swirling around the tip and underside of yn’s shaft. ‘shit! he’s skilled in sucking dick’ yn thought, cumming not long after a few more sloppy sucks, flooding ghostface’s throat with thick spunk. yn was tired after all that fucking session but right before falling asleep he catches a glimpse of ghostface swallowing his cum and smirking at him, “sleep well tonight bitch boy, after all you should be proud of how you avoided more murders tonight by just being a cumrag”. he puts his shaft back again in his pants, covered his naked torso with the black cape and pulls down his mask, leaving the room.

“you fucked with the murderer” wooyoung yelled, “shut the fuck up woo, my head hurts” yn said hiding his face from the morning sun, “he even threatened me with a knife, and made a superficial cut on my thigh”, “that’s creepy bro, but i’m grateful you’re okay now” woo took a sip of his iced coffee. “yeah i’m okay, but my ass hurts like hell man”. as they left the restaurant, near the exit was a man reading a newspaper that says “no victims last night, is ghostface taking a break?”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Cold

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / CHRONIC ILLNESS MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,260ish

Summary: You are keeping your arthritis a secret. Logan knows that something is wrong and is frustrated that you won't be honest with him.

Notes: I hope this story even makes a lick of sense... I am not feeling the greatest as the weather is changing and I just want someone who will stick out the arthritis with me.

Logan first sensed a change in you a few weeks after he arrived at the mansion. He noticed that you were quieter, moving slower, and being excused from training and other meetings. Logan brushed it off at first, but then it happened repeatedly. There was never a specific time or reason that Logan could pinpoint what was going on with you, and no one would explain it.

“Logan,” Storm sighed, exasperated. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“None of you seem worried,” Logan continued, voice tipping on anger. “Something is going on. She’s sick or something.”

“Why don’t you ask Y/N if you’re so concerned?”

Logan knew it was ridiculous not to go to you about his concerns, but he was still getting to know you. He felt like the two of you had barely become friends, and he didn’t want to ruin it. He actually enjoyed being your friend. You didn’t pressure him to do anything he didn’t want to, including talk. It was an easy friendship that he wasn’t used to happening. 

Logan could sense the change before you had even told him you weren’t up for your usual walk around the gardens. He tried to change the activity to something else, but you still excused yourself to your bedroom.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” you told him with a tight smile. “Maybe another day.” Then you slipped into your room.

Logan was completely stumped and slightly hurt by your actions. What was going on, and why wouldn’t you tell him?

~~~

You were young when you were first diagnosed. It was after your water mutation first appeared. They more you used it, the worse your joints got. The many doctors you visited each diagnosed you with a different type of arthritis. So you didn’t know exactly what you had, but you did know that with each weather change or over extension, especially of your mutation, your arthritis flared up.

Charles was the first person at the mansion to know about your condition, mostly because he was a mind reader. As you got to know everyone else, you slowly began to tell the others: Hank, Jean, Scott, and Ororo. Each of them was concerned that the arthritis seemed to be tied to your mutation, but you didn’t let that stop you. You still were a teacher at the school and a member of the X-Men, though you pick and choose what missions you went on.

When Logan first arrived, he was very closed off. Slowly, you got him to open up and feel more comfortable around you. The two of you began to rely on each other. You still hadn’t told Logan about your health. There was always some worry about how people would react when you told them. Oftentimes, it was pity and overprotectiveness; other times, they saw you as faking it. You didn’t know how Logan would see you yet and weren’t ready to know. 

You knew that you shouldn’t have tried to use your mutation too much during training, especially with the weather growing colder. You knew that it wouldn’t be a good reaction from your arthritis, but you chose to do it anyway. That’s how you ended up laying on your bed, barely mobile.

The knock on the door made you wince. Not having the energy to get up, you shouted as best as you could, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Logan’s rough voice broke from the other side of the door.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots. You couldn’t let Logan see you this way. Biting back a whine, you pushed yourself up and slowly limped through the door. Logan could sense your struggle from the other side. He clenched his fists to prevent himself from breaking down the door. When you opened the door, Logan immediately noticed how heavily you were leaning against the door and that you just had it opened enough for him to see you.

“Hi, Logan,” you forced out a smile. 

“What’s going on?” He immediately asked. “You haven’t left your room all day.”

“Oh, just… tired.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Logan—“

“I don’t want to hear anything but the truth.”

“I… I…”

“Hey, guys!” Rogue greeted, coming down the hall. “What are you—“ She paused, glancing between the two of you. “Oh. Is this a serious conversation?”

“No.” / “Yes.”

“I’m just gonna good.” She backed up a few steps before spinning around and running away.

“Let me in,” Logan requested.

“I’m fine, Logan,” you sighed.

“Then let’s go down to the Danger Room and train.”

“I trained this morning without you.”

“Then let’s go take a walk through the gardens.” 

You knew Logan would continue to pester you until you gave him an acceptable answer. What could a simple stroll really do to you? You were already hurting anyway. “Fine. Let me grab a jacket.”

You immediately winced upon turning around. Logan watched, eyes narrowed, as you tried your best to walk normally. Why couldn’t you just tell him what was wrong? You grabbed the jacket from the back of the chair at your desk and struggled to get it on. Logan stepped into your room, and took the jacket from you, helping you into it.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

Logan let out a grunt as he nodded. “Let’s go.”

As the two of you headed for the gardens, Logan had to slow down his usual pace. He kept an eye on you and the grimace you made with his step. The gardens were beautiful, though fall had settled in. You only wished that you could fully enjoy the beauty of your surroundings as you tried not to drop to the ground in sobs.

“Y/N,” Logan stopped his path and reached out to you. You pulled your hand away and immediately saw the hurt look Logan gave you. “Did I do something?” His voice was serious, though you could hear the slight vulnerability that he was trying to hide.

“No,” you slightly shook your head, almost immediately regretting it. “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m just tired. I just need to sleep.”

“Bullshit.”

You sighed. “Logan, I—“

“No, it’s fine. You don’t want to tell me. You don’t have to. I get it.” Then he stormed off.

You sucked your lips in and looked up, trying to fight back the tears. You knew it was immature to be acting like this, but you didn’t know how Logan would see you after he knew the truth. Looking at the mansion, you grew tired just thinking about how hard it would be to get up to your room. You decided to find a bench in the gardens and rest for a little while.

~~~

The night quickly set in, and snow began to fall from the sky, though it was autumn. You were curled up on the bench you had found in the garden. Tears were frozen to your cheeks as you shivered uncontrollably. After sitting down to rest, you quickly found that that had been a mistake and weren’t able to get up. You were in too much pain, and that pain was only growing the colder it got.

“Help,” you rasped, able to see your breath in front of you. “H—Hel—Help…”

You could only hope that someone would find you before something really bad would happen.

~~~

“Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?” Scott wondered. “She missed dinner.”

“I think she wasn’t feeling good today,” Jean replied. “She’s probably in her room.”

“Someone should bring in dinner,” Ororo suggested. Those in the room looked at Logan, wondering if he would offer, but he remained silent. “Logan, why don’t you go?”

He scoffed. “I already tried today. Went on a walk, but she wouldn’t be honest with me.”

“You have to be patient, Logan,” Jean told him. “Y/N… well, she has reasons for how she’s acting. She’ll tell you in time.”

Logan gritted his teeth but slowly began to feel bad for storming off earlier today. “Fine.” He picked up the plate already prepared for you. “I’ll go.” He approached your room and immediately noticed the door was ajar. “Y/N?” He called as he pushed the door open. It looked like it had when he got you for the walk. “Y/N?” He walked further inside, peeking into the attached bathroom. You were nowhere to be found, which was concerning. He hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. “Y/N’s not in her room.”

“Maybe she went into town,” Ororo suggested. 

“No,” Logan shook his head. “It’s something else.” He looked at Charles. “Professor, can you sense her?”

Charles closed his eyes and reached out to you. It didn’t take long for him to connect with you. His eyes snapped open. “She’s in the garden,” he stated.

“Still?”

“Wait a minute,” Jean said, glancing out the window to see it snowing. “She’s in the garden now?”

“Yes,” Charles responded. “And we must hurry.”

“Hurry?” Logan repeated as the others rushed for the door. “Wait. What’s going on?” No one responded. “Damn it! Someone tell me!”

Ororo and Jean shared a look before Ororo sighed and stepped closer to Logan. “Y/N has arthritis,” she explained. “Overusing her powers and cold weather can make her flare. That’s why she was resting today.”

“Wait—She’s still outside. Shit.” 

Before anyone else could explain anything to him, Logan was running out to the gardens. Using his senses, he tracked you down to the bench you had found to rest on. You were curled up with a layer of snow on top of you, looking sickly.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he rushed over to you. There was no response from you. “Y/N.” He tried to shake you awake, but nothing. “Come on, sweetheart,” he lifted you up to him. 

“Logan!” Jean shouted as she, Scott, and Ororo ran up to them. “Oh my—we need to get her to the lab. Now!”

The four of them moved swiftly to the lab, where Charles was already waiting. He set you down on the table, and Jean quickly went to work.

“It’s all my fault,” Logan muttered, eyes trained on you.

“It’s not your fault,” Ororo said.

“I got her out there; I left her there.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I knew that something was wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed her.”

~~~

It took a few hours for Jean to get you warm again. Charles had to keep you unconscious so that your body could rest. Logan stayed close by, watching over you. He kept an unlit cigar in his mouth, trying to use it to keep himself from tearing something apart—including himself. 

You moaned as you began to wake. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked around the room. You immediately knew you were in the lab and could feel the tubes and wires attached to you. Your eyes widened as you saw Logan leaning up against the wall, staring at you with a cigar in his mouth. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he had found out the truth. Tears welled up in your eyes and began to slip down your face.

Logan tore the cigar from his mouth, pushed himself off the wall, and rushed to you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Do you need Charles? Do you need more medicine? What can I do?”

“I—I don’t want your pity,” you cried.

Logan’s face fell. “What?”

“I don’t want your pity.” You turned your head away from Logan.

“Is that what you think this is? Pity? I was scared shitless when I found you out in the garden, sweetheart. I’m worried about you.”

“You’re already looking at me differently… that’s what I didn’t want.”

“How am I supposed to look at you? It is different. I know you have arthritis and that using your powers can hurt you.”

You looked back at Logan. “Yes, so now I’m fragile in your eyes. Just someone who should sit there and do nothing so that I don’t hurt myself. I can’t—“

“I would never want that for you, sweetheart. If I’m looking at you differently, it’s because I feel guilty for pushing you. You were in that garden because of me… It also could be that I’m amazed that you go through every day with pain, and you haven’t given up.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you… and not telling you what was wrong.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you and leaving you out there.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m gonna feel guilty for a while, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t feel guilty… And sweetheart? That’s new…”

“You like it?”

“Maybe.” You gave him a smile. 

“Seriously, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine… I’ll probably be down for a few days, though.”

“Good thing I’m free to help.”

“No, Logan. I don’t want to be a burden—“

“You are never a burden. Got it? I don’t ever want to hear that from you again. Alright?”

“But—“

“Alright, sweetheart? Never again.”

“Okay…”

“Good, so,” he reached back and pulled up a chair to sit down beside you. “You need to tell me how best to help you. I can’t promise that I’ll remember everything, but I need to do what’s completely off-limits and what helps you the most.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed within your chest. No one had ever wanted to know how best to take care of you. This was different and would definitely take a lot of getting use to, but you were willing to try just as Logan was willing to try.

[loveanddeepdick]

Thoughts on teasing Yuta with a super risqué dress while you go out… and maybe what happens when you get back home?

notes and cw: pervy yuta, consensual groping, HE TRIES TO BE RESPECTFUL 🙏, he refers to ur pussy with she/her, not proofread 😛

“you’re wearing.. that?”

yuta’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the silhouette of your body in the bathroom mirror as he leans against the doorframe.

“is there a problem, yuu?”, you hummed, putting on some jewelry to match your dress.

your dress

it was all yuta could look at right now. the satin fabric hugged your figure so tight that it made him dizzy. he swallowed, biting his cheek and praying that he could make it through the night without a noticeable boner.

“no, no! there’s nothing wrong, angel”

yuta took a step forward, standing behind you to tug down at your dress a little to cover your ass with what seemed like an inch of fabric. his eyes never left your backside, his hands lingering on your hips as he admired you.

“nothing wrong at all..”

at the party, he sat on a couch, his arms sprawled on the back as he conversed with yuji, his eyes never leaving your body. he had to keep watch over you, after all!

you danced with your friends, your ass swaying to the music as he watched it jiggle from every step you took. he could almost swear that he could see the outline of your pussy through your panties when you bent over.

he was somewhat paying attention to yuji, though, until someone spilled their drink all over your dress, the sticky liquid making the dress cling to your chest.

“so then, i told cho—“

“hold on yuji, i’ll be back.”

yuta immediately got up, taking off his shirt to put over your body, your poor dress forever ruined and stained from whatever mystery concoction your friend spilled on you. he pulled you toward a hallway and into an empty bathroom.

being the caring boyfriend that he was, he unzipped your dress, ignoring your whining before he grabbed a random towel, wetting it in the sink before wiping your chest with it.

in any other situation, he’d ogle at your chest, maybe take a short squeeze for himself but he was only focused on you at this point. he took his clean shirt and opened the bottom above your head.

“arms.”

“thank you yuta”, you huffed, still upset at your ruined dress but raising your arms, letting yuta put you in clean clothes.

yuta’s eyes scanned your body, stopping at your legs and realizing that although his shirt was big enough to make it look like you were in a damn dress, you still didn’t have pants. he bit the inside of his cheek, cursing at himself for the blood rising into his crotch.

the whole night, he’d been on his best behavior, resisting getting a boner while watching you in your slutty dress but the thing that tipped him over was you in his oversized t-shirt. you looking so pretty in your makeup and jewelry but adorning his shirt.

“fuck, it. c’mon”, yuta snapped, taking your hand to lead you back to his car.

“yuu? what’s going on?”, you gasped, following his heavy footsteps, his beaten up doc martins stomping on the wood of your friend’s house.

he stayed silent throughout the car ride home as well, hour heart beating in your chest from nervousness. he’d never been like this before.

when you got home, he was still a gentleman, opening your car door for you but once your front door was closed behind you, he was on you in a second, attacking your lips as his hands groped your body.

“mmph-!! yuu, what’s—“

“did you not wear shorts under on purpose? teasing me all night then ending up in my shirt all pretty with your pussy out?”, yuta groaned in your ear as he pulled away, his hands snaking around to your ass to give it a sharp slap.

you fervently shook your head, your pussy growing wet from yuta’s words while his hands travelled from your ass and into your panties. his slender, cold fingers dipping into your heat, collecting your slick as he bit back a grin.

“you’re wet. does it turn you on when you’re being such a dirty girl? you wanted everyone at that party to see this sloppy pussy, didn’t you?”

“n-no, just you!”

“yeah? how about i give this pussy a reminder then, show her that i’m the one who gets to fuck her”

[cat9901234]

She's got your genes

summary: you and Lewis Hamilton's daughter suddenly took an interest in go-karting whilst your husband was racing and proves she's definitely both you and Lewis' kid.

warnings: nothing but cute fluff.

Named daughter: layla.

When you found out you were pregnant in 2015, you were the least to say terrifyingly worried about telling Lewis with the rise of his wins, the drama, and change of careers plan for the both of you. But nonetheless, the two of you worked through the first rough two years together and Lewis proved to be a wonderful father.

You managed to get your career to settle down in Kensington home when your daughter was five and when the both of you could afford to see Lewis at his races that had always seemed to lift his spirits (and an ongoing suspicion amongst the younger F1 fans that Lewis always performed better when the two of you were around since before your little girl started school and you being more present at his races performed at his best.)

Layla, your beautiful little girl was the perfect mix of the both of you. She had Lewis’ spirit and sass as a youngster and your beauty and compassion Anthony, Lewis’ father would say. Lewis would always try to get as many video calls and flights back to London as possible where the two of them had formed a very close bond, and were always found either cuddled up on the couch as they watched a movie whilst she talked about as much as she could about in the time Lewis was gone or playing outside in the backyard with a soccer ball and Roscoe not too far off. 

As much as you tried from keeping Layla’s appearance and face out of the media, whether that be always making sure she’s wearing sunglasses or a hat, there was always either a fan’s shot or a lucky paparazzi at the paddock who managed to a glimpse when she took her sunglasses off to rub her eyes or when they felt uncomfortable. Speaking of the paddock, she was much adored by the drivers; especially Sebastian and George where a viral video went around when she was five of her and George hugging and declaring how he was his best friend. 

It was Friday night for the two of you in Kensington, and you were finishing off a meeting call with your colleagues when, just after you logged off, a knock came from your door. 

“Hey Lay, did you manage to work out the question?” you queried. 

“Yeah, it’s all good,” your eight-year-old nodded. “Hey mum?”

“Yes?” you hummed getting up.

“Can I go-karting? Like a race?” 

You stood there a bit shocked at her sudden interest. 

“You want to race?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Why the sudden interest sweetie?” you crouch to her level, your tone curious but laced with a familiar warmth that your daughter always sought.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“Really now?” you put your hands on your hips, mirroring her sass. Layla giggles in response. 

“Mum!” she exclaims. 

“Well can I guess?” Layla thinks about it before nodding her head. 

“Is it because you wanna be like daddy?” you pretended to think by putting a finger in your chin.

“No, not really,” she shook her head. She didn’t seem like she was lying.

“Hmm, is it because you want to do it for fun?”

“Sort of,” she grins. An all too familiar grin that was nothing but identical to Lewis. 

You sigh loudly. She had go karted when she was a bit younger once or twice for birthday parties.

“Mummy Please! I really need to do this,” she pulls out a very folded and creased flyer of an upcoming open to all go-karting tournament. 

“Honey. That’s in like two weeks,” you read the key dates. 

“Yeah, but if I practise everyday after school! I promise I’ll still do my homework!” she pouts. 

“What about the go-kart? Where are we gonna get that?” you raised a brow. 

“What about my old go kart that we used for birthdays?”

“Baby, you haven’t used that since you were four. It’s going to be a bit small.”

“Uhhh… what about the go-kart that uncle George got for me last christmas?” She reasons. You had honestly forgotten about that poor thing left in the garage untouched, better yet it was disassembled.

Damn her mini-Lewis genes.

“Sir Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, what did you say to our daughter?” You glare through the phone.

“Have I ever told you darling you look especially beautiful today?” He sweats.

“What did I say to our daughter darling?”

“Well that’s what I’m asking you Lew. It seems our daughter has taken a sudden interest in go-karting,” you say watching his eyes widen. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s a race in like two weeks she really wants to compete in,” you hum. “When I asked her why she had your grin written all over her. Something’s up and I’m going to figure it out.” 

“When’s the race?”

“[random date]” you sigh. “I already checked, you have a race that same day, and it’s almost a seven hour flight.”

“Fuck,” Lewis dragged his hand down his face. “Fuck, I’m going to miss our daughter’s first race.”

“It’s fine Lew. I’m not sure at the exact times but maybe I can facetime you during one of the races. It goes on all-day.”

“Alright. Maybe send the time and we schedule something from my end.”

“Sent-, Layla what are you doing still up?” your head turns to the direction of her coming down the stairs in her pyjamas. 

“I was throwing my tissue box, mummy and my bin is full-, hi daddy!” she exclaims, her eyes widening. 

“Hey! Mummy told me you're going to do a go-karting race!”

“Yeah,” she nods, leaning her chin on the edge of the couch. “I told mummy that I’m going to work really hard. We’re going to build the car together-, and I’m going to practise everyday after school after I finish my homework and in the mornings as well.”

“That’s really good to hear sweetie. I’m so proud of you. Mummy and I are going to try to organise for me to video call you guys when I can, okay. It will be just like I’m there.”

“That’s fine daddy, me and you can race when you come back!” she suggested enthusiastically. She knew well of Lewis’ job and what it demanded, and although sometimes it saddened her she got eventually used to it in the best way possible with Lewis making an effort to video call her.

“Of course Lay,” Lewis smiled warmly. “Oh yeah, mummy was telling me that you wouldn’t tell her why you didn’t want to race.”

“Yeah, I’m the one taking you to these practices,” she ruffled her locks. 

“Well… it’s because last week, me and my friend and another group were talking about cars. I don’t know why. But like then my friend Katy-, who also does go-karting says that it’s pretty weird and lonely cause she’s the only girl-, so then I said we can race together so she’s not lonely and that it will be fun!”

“Aww, that’s very sweet of you honey,” you kiss her cheek. “But are you sure as well this is something you want to do as well.”

“Yeah! It seems really fun and daddy did it when he was younger and he made lots of friends as well! So I’ll make more friends too!” she yawned. 

“Alright sweetie, I think that’s a sign for you to go back to bed. Say goodnight to daddy.”

Layla leans over and sends him a flying kiss and Lewis pretends to catch it making her giggle.

---

When the two of you practised, three sometimes when Lewis would join on a facetime, and four when Anthony would join as well when he heard his granddaughter took an interest in the sport, it was alarming to say the least how well she absorbed techniques and small critiques that Lewis and Anthony would suggest. But beyond that, what you were more thrilled about was how her serious demeanour the moment she hopped off her go-kart would always switch to a wild smile, or when she fell or crashed she would always shake it off and laugh.

When the race day came, you purposefully signed her name up with your last name for extra caution and wanting her to focus on enjoying the day. She had been excited to meet up with her friend and noticed as well how well during each of the rounds how sociable she was with the other racers and converse with them, as she would often come running back to you and Anthony saying how she made a new friend. 

In terms of racing. Well, it was safe to say although she had a rough start that you suspected was her nerves, she completely dominated the track as the two of you would cheer loudly no matter what.

Feeling your phone buzz loudly, you picked up and immediately answered the facetime request with a panicked Lewis. “Did I miss the last race? I swear I was trying to get out of that interview but he wouldn’t shut up.”

“It’s fine. She made it to the finals, she’s starting third look,” you turned the screen around to the track where your daughter was sitting in the kart ready.

“Omg! Go baby!” he yelled loudly through the phone.

‘Welcome one and all to the finals of the eight to nine year old division.’ The speaker announced.

Once the quick inspection finished, the moment the race had begun Layla’s car struggled and began to get hit behind the cars behind as they passed her. 

“It’s alright baby!” You yelled as she finally got the car working and sped off in last position. The three of you watched anxiously as she began to take advantage of the sharp corners and quickly catched up to the middle of the pack within a few laps. 

In the last few laps, Anthony swore he saw Lewis racing as she began to hunt down each person in front of her at a terrifying pace. 

“Come on Layla! Go baby!” you yelled as she managed to regain her starting position and then second-,

“And in first place, [your lastname]!”

“THAT’S MY BABY! OH MY GOD!” you heard Lewis yell you began jumping up and down.

Once she was able to come off the track, she immediately ran to the three of you as Anthony hugged her tightly and gave her a high-five. When she turned to the phone her eyes widened at Lewis who had the proudest smile on his face. 

“Daddy I won! It was so much fun!” 

“Well done Layla!”

“Daddy, why are you crying?” her brows knitted in confusion.

“Those are happy tears honey,” you chuckled, then looked to the marshal who signalled that it was time for the trophies. 

“Go get your trophy.”

Bonus:

Lewishamilton

liked by susfiewolff, sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 4000 others

So proud of my baby on her first win. I've never had so much anxiety on watching a go-karting race 😂

redbullracing: dibs -> mercedesamgf1: no you don't. -> mclaren: she's ours.

[daisymbin]

more blackmail material? - choi seungcheol

read pt1 first: look at me!

warnings: none i think?

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader (use of she)

genre: friends to lovers~

wc: 2.2k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

you wake up to the familiar weight of seungcheol’s hand clutching yours tightly; that being the only part of your body that feels comfy. your back hurts & your legs are numb. you had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor by the bed, holding his hand. you look over to him, his brows furrow slightly as he mumbles something intangible as you tried to escape his grasp, and your heart squeezes at the sight. for a moment, you wonder what he’s dreaming about, his expression so peaceful yet intense.

his hair tousled and his expression adorable. a small smile tugs at your lips as you take in the sight of him, feeling an overwhelming sense of affection.

you gently try to pry his hand on yours, but that was proven difficult when seungcheol unconsciously tightens his hold. after a good 10 minutes of trying, you managed to get him to let go, careful not to wake him, and make your way to the kitchen. the apartment is still, save for the soft sounds of the world outside waking up. as you prepare a light breakfast, your mind races with thoughts of what to say when seungcheol wakes up. would he remember anything? would he regret his words?

your heart races at the thought. just as you’re pouring a glass of apple juice, the soft sound of shuffling interrupts your thoughts. you turn to see seungcheol standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, his hair in all sorts of direction but with a small smile on his face that sends a flutter through your chest.

“morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“morning,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, despite the weight of what’s unsaid hanging in the air.

he rubs his eyes, stepping further into the kitchen. “what time is it?”

“almost 11,” you tell him, watching as he yawns and stretches, the sight somehow both adorable and mesmerizing.

“11?” he echoes, clearly surprised. “how did I sleep so long?”

you chuckle softly, knowing the answer. “you were pretty tired from all that dancing and… other activities last night.”

the blush creeping across his cheeks is immediate, and he glances down at the floor, avoiding your gaze. “did I… say anything embarrassing?”

you hesitate, a wave of uncertainty & disappointment washing over you. you see the sincerity in his eyes, and despite the urge to tell him the truth, you weren't sure if its something he had meant to let out, or if he even meant it. maybe he was just…drunk? or maybe he'll come to remember it in a few hours? “no, not really,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips.

he seems to relax at your words, though a shadow of confusion still lingers in his expression. “thank god. I was worried I made a fool of myself or said something I shouldn't have.”

just then, his phone buzzes loudly on the table, interrupting the moment. he glances at it, his brow furrowing. “it’s jihoon. he wants me to come help with something.”

“now?” you ask, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the thought of losing this moment.

“yeah, I should probably go,” he says, though he seems reluctant to leave. “but I’ll text you later, okay?”

“sure,” you reply, trying to hide your disappointment. “just…be safe. drink lots of water, you need it.”

“i will.” he promises, a soft smile on his lips before he grabs his things and heads out the door.

as soon as he’s gone, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. what now? you wonder, glancing at your phone and deciding to take a break from it all. you text seungkwan to see if he wants to grab brunch.

when you meet seungkwan at your favorite café, he immediately senses something is off. “so, what happened after you sent seungcheol home?” he asks, leaning in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “did anything…happen last night? did you guys talk it out this morning?”

you shake your head, stirring your latte absently with a sigh. “he doesn’t remember anything, he asked if he said anything stupid last night & I just told him no.”

“he doesn’t remember?” seungkwan looks flabbergasted. “are you serious?”

“sadly, yeah.” you reply, feeling a bit defeated. “I thought he would, but I guess not.”

“that’s not good,” seungkwan muttered softly, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “shall we have have some cake? the red velvet from here is really good, i’ll go order one.”

before you can even answer him, seungkwan already got up, he subtly pulls out his phone and steps away. “just a sec, I’ll be right back,” he says, heading towards the counter of the café.

“since when did you like red velvet?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, but he waves you off with a laugh. “oh, you know.. just the one they have here is good so….” he replies. you can sense he’s hiding something but you dont ask

—

jeonghan wastes no time. after receiving a few messages from an exasperated seungkwan, he heads straight to jihoon's place, excitement & mischief pulsing through him. he arrives, knocking briskly on the door until jihoon opens it, looking surprised to see him.

“jeonghan? what’s up?” jihoon asks, stepping aside to let him in.

“where’s seungcheol?” jeonghan demands, scanning the room until he spots him lounging on the couch, looking rather confused.

“he’s right here. what’s going on?” jihoon asks, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

jeonghan strides over to seungcheol, a teasing grin on his face. “shouldn’t you be taking your girlfriend, no, future mrs choi on a date right now? why are you here with jihoon?”

seungcheol blinks, utterly bewildered. “what are you talking about, jeonghan? I don’t-”

“you don’t what?” jeonghan cuts him off, pulling out his phone. “you don’t remember what you did last night? what you said?”

seungcheol’s expression shifts to confusion, and he rubs the back of his neck, trying to recall the events of the night. “what do you mean? did I do or say something embarrassing?”

with a smirk, jeonghan taps on the video he recorded the night before. he hadn't planned on pulling out his stored blackmail material so soon but thank god he recorded it.

as he hits play, seungcheol’s eyes widen, watching himself stand on the table whining about all the other boys you paid attention to instead of him, followed quickly by a tipsy grin plastered on his face as he confesses his undying love for you.

“what..what is this?” he exclaims, staring at the screen, the realization dawning on him.

“you confessing, you idiot,” jeonghan says, barely holding back laughter. “you were all mushy and everything!”

jihoon, who had been completely unaware of the events from the night before having stayed home, watches the video together, mouth agape. “wait, he really did that?”

“yoon jeonghan did you use A.I to fabricate this or something? there's no way I did that. I wouldn't….” seungcheol tries to push it onto jeonghan, trying to deny reality.

“really? you wouldn't? you think the chances of me using A.I is higher than you drunkardly confessing whilst standing on a table in a club?” jeonghan asked as he tried to hold back his laugher.

jihoon steps closer as he says, “honestly the A.I sounds more believable, you pull stupid pranks all the time, i wouldnt be surprised, but then again….if it's really A.I and it isn't real then thats kinda… nah. yoon jeonghan wouldnt joke about something like this. yup, looks real to me.” jihoon finishes as he pats seungcheol on his back.

jeonghan, seeing as seungcheol still doesn't believe him, pulls out his messaging app, opening his chat with seungkwan, “it's not A.I you idiots, who do you think i am? i love a good prank but this A.I shit is too much work, i dont have enough energy for that. here.” jeonghan then slides his phone over to seungcheol, messages from seungkwan earlier in its full glory.

roommate boo 🍊:

[12:17 PM] I can't believe that idiot can't remember what he did last night!!! hyung, do something!!!

[12:19 PM] I thought he lost his mind when he stood on that table crying over her last night BUT NO, NOW he's lost his mind! i thought some sense finally went into that head of his, how can he forget???

[12:22 PM] hyung!! do something! this isn't right and it's not fair to her! she looks so sad!!!!! show him that video you recorded last night!!!! 😡

“yup,” jeonghan says, enjoying seungcheol's mortification. “and now you can’t just let it slide. you need to talk to her and make this right. tell me, was she still in your apartment this morning?” he asked as he folded his arms. at a small nod of seungcheol’s head, jeonghan continued “that silly girl. I texted her to come down after putting you to bed, i even offered to send her home but she was worried about you and said she'd stay. how could you forget?”

seungcheol feels a rush of embarrassment & guilt flood through him as he stares at the screen which now shows jeonghan's text from you. “I can’t believe I did that,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “and I can't believe I forgot…did she..does she-”

“does she like you?” jeonghan finishes for him, “you're such an idiot. for someone who claims to be looking at the love of their life all the time, you sure are blind for not seeing how she looks at you just as much.” jeonghan says with a satisfied smile on his face. “you owe her a real date after that confession.”

“and an apology.” jihoon added.

“i thought she’d tell me if i’d done something like that, but she didn’t. maybe she’s just… sparing me from rejection.”

jeonghan scoffed. “please, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky last night. she’s probably overthinking, just like you are.”

seungcheol lets out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his resolve building as he processes everything. “I need to find her.” jihoon could only smirking at his friend’s flustered state.

—

after brainstorming with jeonghan and jihoon, seungcheol decided on a plan. he’d cook her favorite, miyeok guk (yall remember cooks coups? lmao) it wasn’t just for birthdays, after all, and he knew she’d appreciate the thought. jeonghan offered to help, though he teased relentlessly about how much was riding on this meal.

it was almost doomed when seungcheol managed to burn the soup, the kitchen filling with a slightly charred smell as he looked on in horror. jeonghan swooped in, shaking his head with an exasperated grin. “good thing i’m here,” he muttered, salvaging the meal with a few choice spices and a lot of patience.

once the miyeok guk was safely simmering, seungcheol added a few finishing touches around his apartment: candles with her favorite scent, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, and warm lighting that made the whole room feel like a cozy haven.

finally, he texted you, saying he needed help with something. you arrived, clueless, expecting a favor and absolutely not prepared for the sight of him standing there, nerves showing slightly as he shifted from foot to foot.

before you could ask, he cleared his throat. “so… about last night…”

you froze, realizing he might remember. “last night?”

he gave a small, uncertain smile, looking at you with a soft intensity. “i know you didn’t say anything, but… jeonghan showed me the video. i just… i thought maybe you didn’t tell me because… maybe you don’t feel the same, and you were trying to save me from that.”

you stared at him, heart racing. “no, i… i thought you might regret it,” you admitted softly, glancing down. “i didn’t want to bring it up if… if it was something you didn’t mean.”

seungcheol stepped closer, reaching out to gently lift your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “i meant every word,” he murmured. “and this time, i want to say it sober; knowing exactly what i’m saying. i like you… so much. and if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a real date.”

a smile spread across your face as you let his words sink in. “then… i’d like that, too,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

the uncertainty melted from his expression, replaced by a soft warmth. reaching out, he took your hand in his, holding it as if it were something precious. he chuckled softly, still a little shy. “so, um… how about some miyeok guk? i might’ve had a bit of help from jeonghan, but it’s your favorite.” he refused to let you know about how he had actually burnt it & jeonghan had salvaged it. but little did he know, jeonghan had been recording his friend again when he was panicking & making a mess of the kitchen while whining, more blackmail material perhaps?

“i’d love that,” you replied, heart swelling at the gesture.

as you both sat down, laughing together over the slightly imperfect soup, you felt a contentment settle in, the kind that only came from being exactly where you were meant to be, with exactly the person you were meant to be with.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble

Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta

~~~

His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.

What’s wrong with your back?

Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.

Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.

She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.

But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”

Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.

Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.

Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.

Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line. 

But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately. 

The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static. 

So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.

Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.

By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.

He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.

–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?

Robin?

There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.

That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet. 

It was a daisy.

“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”

My favorite.

Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways. 

But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents. 

You smell kind of like sunflowers

“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”

She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.

I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.

He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.

“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.

Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down. 

She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out. 

Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?

He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.

She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.

“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.

He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.

What magnets?

Never mind, Robs, shut up.

“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”

When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”

DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!

Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”

They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.

Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–

What…?

– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.

“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”

Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.

I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just–

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–

“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.

“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!”

Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?

“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”

It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.

“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.

Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?

“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”

“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”

Robin, don’t–

But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.

Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.

Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.

Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.

Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”

“I know, Nance, that’s not–”

“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now. 

Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble. 

“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, can still taste the black sludge in his nightmares. 

Now that’s gay panic.

I thought that’s not what that means, Rob

Ugh, I regret teaching you things.

Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”

To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.

Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Risky Business?” She giggles and rolls her eyes. 

Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and dark brown, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie. 

Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–

“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”

This is why they call you mom.

“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”

“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint. 

She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.

Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.

Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Paralyzed

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Mattheo being an idiot

I know this is off of my normal schedule, but I finally got to my pc, so have this fic I wrote a few days ago.

You, you walked into the room

On a Friday afternoon

That's when I saw you for the first time

And I was paralyzed

Mattheo was in the library with a few of his friends, not even studying anymore. They were messing around, talking and laughing, drawing on their parchment, throwing things at each other. But they were in a rather secluded corner of the library, so they weren't bothering everyone.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught Mattheo's attention. He turned his head to see you looking through one of the aisles of books. He had never seen you before. You were gorgeous and it had Mattheo sitting up straight, fixing his hair and tuning out the other boys.

The other boys didn't take much notice, Mattheo would tune out and stare off into space sometimes, so they didn't give it much thought.

He watched as you tried to grab a book off a shelf a bit higher than you could reach. His first thought was to go over and help you, but his body wouldn't move. Like he was…nervous?

You felt your pockets, presumably for your wand, but you forgot it and sighed, pouting slightly for a second before turning to their table. Mattheo quickly looked away as you walked over.

“Can one of you guys help me? I can't reach a book I need and I forgot my wand.” You asked the table sweetly and it had Mattheo's stomach fluttering with how sweet your voice was to him.

I had a million things to say

But none of them came out that day

'Cause I was never one of those guys

That always had the best lines

Mattheo wanted to say ‘yes’ and help you, but the words died in his throat as he opened his mouth, and now his mouth felt suddenly dry.

“Of course, (Y/N).” Enzo said as he stood up with that stupid charming smile of his.

That prick led you back to the book with a hand on your back.

Mattheo slumped back in his seat as he watched you smile back at Lorenzo, thanking him for grabbing the book for you before walking away from him. Enzo came back to the table, sitting back down.

Time stopped ticking

My hands keep shaking

And you don't even know that

“Who is that?” Mattheo asked him after you disappeared out of view.

Enzo smiled, catching on immediately. “That's (Y/N). They're in one of my classes. They're very sweet.”

“I've never seen them before.” Mattheo said, looking back to where you disappeared for a moment before looking back down to his drawing on his parchment, pretending to be interested in drawing again.

I try to speak, but girl you got me tongue-tied

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

Enzo and Theo took the initiative to introduce you two. They invited you to one of their parties, where the boys were all at now.

Theo was the first one to spot you when you arrived. He left the group to talk to you, smiling, trying to charm you to follow him over to the group. You gladly followed him and Mattheo spotted the two of you coming over and quickly sat up straight in the chair he was lounging in, putting out the cigarette he was smoking on the table in front of him.

Theodore quickly introduced you to everyone who didn't know you, saving Mattheo for last.

You smiled at him. “Hi, Mattheo.” You said and damn, if your voice wasn't the sweetest thing he ever heard, especially the way you said his name.

He opened his mouth to say ‘hi’ back but it came out super quiet.

“Are you alright?” You asked him when you couldn't hear him over the music.

His mouth felt all dry again, so he just nodded.

Now I learned a lot from my mistake

Never let a good thing slip away

I've had a lot of time to look back

And my only regret is

Not telling you what I was going through

But you didn't even know that

I try to speak but girl you got me tongue-tied

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

You talked with the group, smiling and laughing at what they said. Mattheo was quiet, looking over at you whenever you laughed and spoke up. He wanted to make you laugh so bad, but he was finding it difficult to talk with you there.

How was everyone else talking to you so calmly?

He was going to have to look for a spell or potion to help him with this weird feeling around you.

As soon as you walked away to go talk to some of your friends, Theo hit him in the back of the head.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” Mattheo said, rubbing the spot Theo hit.

“Why didn’t you talk to them?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you were ogling them in the library a few days ago. We thought you liked them!” Enzo spoke up, throwing his hands in the air.

Mattheo scoffed. “I said ‘hi’.”

“Fucking idiot.” The two boys rolled their eyes.

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

The party didn't help at all and now you probably thought he was weird for how quiet he was. He was so stupid, just looking at you and smiling, sometimes laughing at what you said. And fuck, you were so funny and smart to him, it made it all worse. He felt like an idiot next to you.

He saw you around the castle more. Maybe he did see you in passing sometimes, but now he actually noticed you. He saw you walking with your friends between classes and he wanted to say ‘hi’, let you know he acknowledges you, at least.

But you'd see him first and give him a bright smile and all the thoughts in his head disappeared. It was like he forgot how to speak around you. So he would give a small nod before hurrying away to wherever he was going.

Merlin, why was he such an idiot?

As the years go by I think about you all the time, whoa

If I get the chance I hope I won't be paralyzed, paralyzed by you

You walked into the room

On a Friday afternoon

It had been a few months of this dynamic. You being your sweet self, hanging out with him and his friends more, and him barely speaking but smiling and laughing.

The other boys caught on and would question him, but he'd always refuse to answer, even though the boys already knew the problem.

You made him flustered. You made him shy.

And the boys ate it up every time, enjoying seeing their normally loud, obnoxious, and confident friend turn into a shy, stuttering mess around you.

I try to speak but girl you got me tongue-tied

Only problem was, you took it the opposite way.

I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside

I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed (you got me paralyzed)

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by

Can't even talk, 'cause words don't come into my mind

I'd make a move if I had the guts to

But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed (you got me paralyzed)

Mattheo was smoking in the courtyard with Theo while Enzo was sitting by them, all three talking and messing around.

You noticed them. You always noticed how Mattheo was a lot louder and more playful when you weren't around. It made you feel like he didn't like you.

If only you knew it was quite the opposite.

You finally walked over to them, your shoes clicking on the pavement as you approached, making them all look over to you, but your eyes were only on Mattheo.

His eyes went wide when he realized that, watching you walk up to him until you were a few feet away from him.

“Do you hate me?” You asked him, ignoring the other two boys.

He let out a nervous laugh. “Wh-what?”

“Do you hate me? You, like, never talk to me. It's always short answers. You won't even say ‘hi’ to me when we pass each other in the halls. Why?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He tried getting some words out, stumbling over the syllables before clearing his throat. “I-I don't-I don't hate you. I just-I mean, um…” Shit, his mouth went dry again.

“Mattheo. Can you just answer me for once?” You said.

Paralyzed, paralyzed, you got me tongue-tied

Paralyzed, paralyzed, now I'm frozen inside

Paralyzed, paralyzed

You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

His head dropped and you could hear a small ‘fuck’ under his breath before he sighed, looking back up at you again. “I…I don't hate you. I just…” He looked around, sighing out his nose again. “I…like you.” The way he said it seemed like he was having a hard time saying it.

“You like me?” You repeated.

“I just mean, I don't hate you. I-I think you're sweet.” He said, finally looking back at you.

“You think I'm sweet?” You asked, smiling ever so slightly.

That small smile had him blushing and looking back down.

“Yeah.” His eyes flickered up to you briefly before looking back at the cigarette burning in his hand.

“That's all I wanted to know.” You said before smiling a little more. “Have fun, boys.” You said before practically skipping away.

Mattheo watched you walk away, opening his mouth to stop you before shutting it with a groan.

The two other boys laughed at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He said before taking another puff of his cigarette.

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

[wild-fern21]

Paring: Voice actor!reader x Ollie Bearman

Synopsis: Ollie had always supported his girlfriend in her dreams so when she started voice acting in game he decided to make a series of it on twitch for his veiwer's to enjoy or three Ollie Bearman played his girlfriends games on stream.

Warnings: This is my first fic, I don't really know where I was going with this but yeah, if you have any tips or critiques please let me know, thank you for reading.

When you and Ollie started dating, Ollie took it upon himself to watch all the shows you were in. He couldn’t be prouder of his girlfriend but she had stepped away from shows and gone into to video games. Her more recent games were all in the more darker category. Which Ollie himself was to afraid to go though alone. So when one of his friends suggested making a stream out of it he couldn’t deny it. 

Until Dawn (remastered)

Your first video game was called Until dawn you play a character named Ashley, she is one of the eight main characters in the game, so Ollie thought he would give it a go, not wanting to spoil the game for himself he kept away from the trailers and any media to do with the game. 

As he played though the game eventually you came and sat next to him causing chat to go wild. As he made his way though the chapters he grew strong opinions on certain characters (Chris) and got attached to characters (Ashley). 

He had made it to chapter nine and so far had killed Jessica in the fourth character by not taking the shortcut causing the wendigo to tear her jaw off, and Chris who he swears he did by accident. (you knew it was on purpose by the tone of his voice). Now he was playing as Ashley in chapter nine.

You knew what was coming up and tried to keep the smile off your face as he got to the deciding options. 

“What should I do?” Ollie asked looking at you as he noticed your smile. “What are you smiling at?” he added with a nervous laugh following.

“It’s up to you?” You say hiding your face in you knees, so he couldn’t see you face.

“No, no don’t do that." He shook his head as you kept silent. He turned your chair so your body was facing him, you look up to him smiling. “Can you give me a hint?” you shook you head, Ollie let out a sigh and looked at his streams chat.

They were a mixture between going to look for the voice or joining the group. “I guess I should pick” He spoke as he moved the controller to the option to ‘investigate voice’ as soon as it had been selected, you move your chair closer to his.

Ollie turns his head “What? Was the wrong choice?” he asked looking back and forth from your face and the screen. As he walks down the path slowly trying to ready himself for what was to come. He walks over to the trapdoor which he had to open. He looks at your face which is badly concealing a smile at what was to come.

Ollie watched the screen ignoring chat he let out a sigh of relief when nothing was seen “What were-” the sentence was interrupted by his own yell he let out a staring of no’s as he watched in game you get her neck twisted. 

His face turned pale when as he watched your body land on the floor as Ashley’s head get thrown to the floor he turns to face you, he grabs the arm of your chair then dragging the chair till it was right next to him. 

Then he wrapped his arms around your waist hiding his face in the junction between you shoulder and neck, “You didn’t warn me” He whined. Chat was freaking out at the cute moment they were witnessing.

“It’s a horror game the whole point is to be scared” you pointed out, Ollie shook his head his curls tickling your neck. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few more minutes, until Ollie pulled away as he went back to the game he made sure to keep a hold of your hand for the rest of the game.

2. Detroit become human 

The next game Ollie wanted to play was similar to Until dawn in the way your choices have consequences. After Until Dawn, Ollie was determined to keep your character alive. Your character, Kara was one of the androids. Your character served another character named Todd and had a daughter figure named Alice.

Ollie decided against streaming this game just wanting to spend time with you, to relax and not have to worry about entertaining an audience, he had you sitting in between his legs leaning against his chest so he head could comfortably rest his head on top of yours. His arms were wrapped around your middle so he could hold the controller and you at the same time. The position made you feel safe as you could hear him muttering the options he could make under your breath.

As Ollie went though the game his hatred for Todd grew. But he was also worried that if he had the option to kill Todd it may end up killing Kara. Which Ollie swore that he wouldn't do.

As Ollie managed to get Kara and Alice out of the house and on to the bus, you could hear his heart beating faster, so you leaned your head up and placed a gentle kiss to the bottom of his jaw, before going back to watching the game.

He had successfully made it to chapter thirteen. He had managed to keep Kara and Alice alive, you watched as Kara and Alice ran into the highway. Ollie though not new to gaming was horrible when it came to QTE’s. So after he failed almost all of them you realized what was bout to show on screen.

You and Ollie both watched as Connor ran onto the road and grab Kara’s arm and try to restrain her, you watched as he managed to fail one QTE but save the other, though it was no way that would save your character.

“Watch out Kara” Alice in game yelled as your character got hit by a bus, Ollie let out an annoyed huff, he had some how managed to kill you again. Then he watched as Alice ran onto the road as the scene changed Ollie moved his head to your ear.

“You need to stop acting as character’s who die, I don’t think my heart can take it” he whispered, you let out a small laugh in reply shaking your head as you stood up.

“Or your just bad at these types of games” You tell him teasingly.

3. The Last Of Us II

The next (and last) game Ollie played of yours was The Last Of Us, he decided to make a series out of streaming it. Your character Abby was one of the protagonists, by this point in time Ollie was some what use to dying as Abby, he knew he wasn’t the best at keeping any character alive.

So as you sat in your shared room watching his streams on the tv, you couldn't help but shake your head as he complained about killing Abby again. The viewer's continuously made fun of the young driver at the amount of time he had died during this one section.

He had eventually called you into the room claiming you were his good luck charm, when really he just missed you. As Ollie got though another fight (barley) he turned to you with a giant smile on his face.

“I did it” he said while putting his hands up in celebration. At this point he was ignoring the cut scene which was happening right behind him. Your smile widened as he opened his arms offering you a spot on his lap, you gratefully took it.

You watched as Ollie continued to progress though the game laughing every time he died much like his viewer's. After Ollie failed to kill a clicker that was chasing him he looked at you playfully annoyed as you laughed.

“If your gonna laugh, then you have to play” he said handing the controller over to the you.

“No, It’s your stream you have to play” You spoke pushing the controlled back while letting out a small laugh.

“No, no if your going to sit there and laugh then you have a go” He told you a fake serious tone. 

You shook your head in disagreement but still grabbed the remote deciding to have a shot yourself at the game.

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: continuing to struggle with coming to terms, reader seeks solace in Anya, trying and failing to confess, until they finally couldn't avoid it any longer.

tw: reader is bad at feelings.

a/n: this has become a series...

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

In response to your newfound feelings, you decided to do what you do best. Ignore it. Ignore the fluttering of your heart when Daisuke looked towards you after a joke, like he wanted to make you laugh specifically. Or the quiet moments, sitting side by side at night, you didn’t miss the way he would stare at you instead of the fake sky, making your insomnia problem worse. Or how he had become more touchy, how had you not noticed it before? They way he’d brush the back of his hand against yours when walking side by side, or how he’d bump shoulders with you more often than not, or the brief hugs he’d give you if you looked particularly down. 

It was eating at you, but you’d be damned if you were gonna say anything. You can’t remember a time you felt this strongly about someone. Sure, you’ve had passing crushes and found people attractive, but those all passed. But this? You were stuck, hurtling through space, with someone you not only found attractive, but were also falling for. You felt like you were going to tear your hair out. This wasn’t good for your health. It felt like you were going crazy. Not to mention the constant urge to just get all your aggression out by squeezing the living daylights out of Daisuke. 

It seemed you weren’t hiding your deteriorating mental state well. Finishing your daily tasks for Anya, she seemed to have noticed the tired look in your eyes…or maybe the eye bags, those might have been a dead give-away. 

“Have you been sleeping alright?” Anya asked, eyes holding concern. 

“As good as it’ll get,” You shrugged, deflecting the question. 

“If there’s something on your mind you can always talk to me,” She remarked. “It may be my job, but I also care about you.” That made you pause, biting your lip and you mulled over your options. Either keep your feelings to yourself and go nuts or talk to the only other person you feel comfortable with…

Sitting down, you kept your gaze on your lap, fiddling with your fingers, “I’ve…uh. I’ve come to a sudden realization.” 

“And what might that be?” Anya asked softly, watching your anxious movements with a trained eye. Your fidgeting grew worse, now messing with the sleeves of your uniform. If you said it outloud that would make it real, and that was what was holding you back. All these new emotions scared you, and for all you knew Daisuke only thought of you as a friend. The uncertainties of the whole situation made you want to grasp onto any semblance of control you held, and that was holding onto your emotions, keeping them in check and acting like you didn’t want to kiss the living daylights out of one of your crewmates. 

“I think I’m going crazy.”

It's not what you wanted to say, but the truth felt too heavy on your tongue, unable to push the words past your lips. Avoiding her gaze, you looked at the board behind her, eyes landing on a drawing of Jimmy with the word yimpy. Glaring at the image, you wondered why traces of Daisuke seemed to follow you no matter where you went. 

“Hmm,” Anya hummed, tapping her pen against the desk. “Why?”

“I…I,” You tried so hard to say it, to get the damn fuzzy yet heavy feelings off your chest, but your mouth wouldn’t let you. Thankfully, Anya was patient, analyzing you to make sure this wasn’t too serious to your mental health. Squeezing your hands into tight fists, you pushed through, the words finally spilling past your lips, “I think I’m falling for Daisuke!” 

Your eyes widened at how loud you said it, cheeks warming and glancing behind you to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Anya’s demeanor softened, letting out a small sigh of relief. You really scared her for a second. But now that the dam had broken, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from gushing. 

“I-I’ve never felt this way before and it’s so scary. And it’s hard to avoid because he’s always following me around and making me laugh, and when I’m with him it doesn’t seem so bad, but then when I’m alone I overthink everything. It’s driving me crazy.”

Anya nodded, taking in your words and coming up with a thoughtful response, “New things are scary. But it seems like you both really like each other. I’d say the best way to go about this is to confront the problem, tell Daisuke how you feel. As scary as it may be, it's better than keeping it in. Of course if you two do start dating then you’d both have to fill out some paperwork-”

“I think we’re skipping a step,” You said, words muffled as you shoved your face in your hands. 

…

You knew Anya was right. You should just tell him, that’s the most logical conclusion, but if you struggled to tell her, how the hell were you supposed to tell the actual person? You glanced at your main problem, wearily eyeing him as Swansea was trying to guide him in fixing a pipe. You weren’t an idiot, you knew that he liked you, but the question was how much? Was it all platonic? Maybe a hint of romantic feelings? Was he already crushing on you? How the hell were you supposed to know? It angered you, you were out of your depth and it was scary. 

“I did it!” Daisuke exclaimed, smiling brightly towards Swansea than you.

“Good job,” Swansea muttered gruffly. “You didn’t break anything this time.” 

When his eyes landed on you, expectant look in his eyes, you found yourself folding, “You did great.” Curse your traitorous heart speeding up when his grin brightened. He was nearly jumping across the halls, vibrating where he stood.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid,” Swansea shook his head. “The question is can you do it again?” 

“I’m sure he can,” You remarked offhandedly. The old man glanced at you before shaking his head, muttering something about kids these days. 

“Let’s take a ten minute break,” Swansea grumbled. “Not sure how much longer I can deal with you two.” You watched him leave with a raised eyebrow, your lips slightly lifted in a small smirk. 

It was silent for a few moments before Daisuke spoke up, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, tilting your head. “Yeah, why?”

“You just…seem a bit off,” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snarked, eyes falling into a glare. 

“N-nothing bad,” He defended, holding his hands up like a shield. “You just…you can talk to me y’know. We’re friends after all.”

Letting out a sigh you deflated, “Sorry, I know. It’s just…hard to explain.”

“Harder to explain than stealing the Captain's scanner for some sweetener packets?”

“Hmm,” You genuinely thought about it, amused. “No, I don’t think I can beat that.” The two of you chuckled softly before it was quiet again. With the way Daisuke worriedly looked at you, you felt a bit guilty. You had been snapping at him more than usual (easy to beat as you never really snapped at him), taking out your frustrating emotions on those around you. You had been unfair, and now seems like the perfect time to finally get the weight off your chest…and apologize properly.

“I, uh, have something to admit,” You confessed, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “Just…let’s not make it weird-”

“Alright,” Swansea unknowingly cut you off, coming back in. “No more time to dawdle, the ship won’t fix itself.” You huffed, glaring at the ground. It was just your luck that right as you were about to do the grown thing and talk about your emotions someone had to cut you off.

Pushing yourself off the crate you were sitting on, you waved at the two on your way out, “I’ll see ya around.” Not looking back, you missed the way Daisuke watched you in concern.

…

You paused mid-turn, freezing when you heard someone knock on your door. Daisuke’s muffled call of your name rang through your room. Grumbling to yourself, you got up. It’s not like you were getting any sleep anyhow. Pulling down the handle, the door slid open to reveal Daisuke, his hair was ruffled and he was wearing his pajamas. A frown tugged at his lips, eyes watching your sluggish form. “Come in,” You murmured, stepping away from the door and sitting on your bed. Closing the door behind him, he sat next to you. No words needed to be shared, you knew exactly why he was here. Once again, you found the silence to be terribly loud, racking your brain on where to start. 

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit,” You apologized, gaze focused in front of you.

“What are you talking about?” Daisuke asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y’know,” You grumbled, picking at the blanket beneath you. “I keep snapping at you out of nowhere. It’s not right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh,” He nodded in realization.

“Yeah,” You sighed.

“Something been irritating you?” He asked leaning down to try and meet your gaze. 

“That's…I…” Once again, you felt your tongue grow heavy at the thought of admitting your feelings. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable was terrifying. It was like carving your heart out and serving it on a platter, hoping that he’d treat it with care. The question was, were you willing to put the knife to your chest and cut? 

Meeting his eyes, held with concern and something you couldn’t put your finger on, you could feel the knife twist.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Daisuke’s eyes widened with wonder, looking more awake than ever before, tanned cheeks turning red. He felt like he was dreaming, but at the same time it felt off. You were confessing to him, something he had hoped for…but you also seemed…sad. Like it was taking a toll on you, and if that was the reason why you were more easily irritated…does that mean you don’t like it? Was there a way to fall for someone and hate them for it? 

“And that’s a bad thing?” He managed to ask, voice wobbling in fear. 

“No,” You whispered, tilting your head down and facing your lap. “It’s just scary. I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“That’s okay,” Daisuke whispered back, inching his hand closer to your own. “I’m new to this too. We can figure it out. Together.” Biting your lip, you eyed his hand that stopped just before touching you. In a short burst of confidence you linked your pinkies, bathing in the warm feeling that expanded through your entire being instead of running from it. 

“Do you think you can stay?” You asked, your skin bristling at the vulnerability in your tone. 

You were silly to think that Daisuke would treat your heart carelessly. No, he was going to treat it tenderly, caring for it as if it were his own. In return, he carved his own heart out, giving you an equal offering. 

“Of course,” Daisuke nodded, his usual boyish smile more tender and warm. 

Bonus:

Both you and Daisuke had been late to breakfast, and Anya had a small hunch as to why. So she offered to get you both, ignoring the way Jimmy grumbled about you both being spoiled brats. Knocking on your door, she heard shuffling on the other side, hushed whispers, and finally footsteps walking towards the door. Cracking the door open, you peaked your head out, sleepy eyes staring up at the nurse.

“Good morning,” You muttered, voice still laced with sleep. 

“Good morning,” She greeted back with an amused smile. “You and Daisuke slept in.”

That seemed to make you wide awake, muttering curse words before rushing back into your room, a muffled sorry yelled through the door. Walking back to the main hull, Anya shook her head in amusement. It seems you finally followed her advice.

[talesofesther]

𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢

↳ 𝐂𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: You made a promise to Aemond once, when you were young and naive, and the only friend he'd ever known; yet you abandoned him before you could fulfill it. Between broken bonds, a betrothal, and flames that still burn deep within you; this is the story of how you fell apart and found each other again.

A/N: This chapter has been long awaited for me ever since I thought of this series, hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. The song that inspired it was this one. <3

Word count: 4,3k

Masterlist | Previous chapter

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was bustling with people; Princes, Princesses, Lords, Ladies, and all nobility in between. All gathered for the feast in celebration of Queen Rhaenyra's new rule. The hall's great oak-and-bronze doors remained open, as did the curtains of the high windows, allowing the hazy moonlight to shine through.

Hundreds of guests sat at the long tables on each side of the Hall, and the Targaryens had their seats on their own table—adorned with a banquet of meals for the night—in front of the Iron Throne. A group of musicians entertained the feast, and the center of the Hall remained free for the dance yet to happen.

After exchanging pleasantries with many boring nobles, and having a glass or two of wine to take you through it, you had taken a step aside to breathe. You leaned back against one of the walls of the Great Hall, watching from a safe and secluded distance as the guests relished in their time within the Red Keep. Plenty of them seemed to teeter on the edge of drunkness already—speaking about their lands and affairs a little louder than they should.

An amused smirk came to you, never having been fond of the royal court, but the drama that came with it would always be mildly entertaining. Alas, the corset of your gown had started constricting your breathing about an hour ago and the expensive fabric of the skirt began itching on your skin. Truthfully, this feast couldn't end soon enough.

"And what's a fine lady such as yourself-" A familiar voice caught your attention quite suddenly, and you watched with narrowed eyes as Aegon approached you with a sly smile and a golden chalice in his hand. "-Doing here all by herself?" The first Prince finished slowly.

Aegon eyed you up and down, causing you to straighten your posture. Aegon's cheeks were flushed, his silver curls were messy, pupils blown, and smile all too loose—unsurprisingly, he was drunk. He stumbled up to you, resting his shoulder on the stone wall close enough for you to smell the wine on his breath.

"Shouldn't you have a certain one-eyed someone keeping you company?" Aegon traced the rim of his chalice with his thumb, half-lidded eyes gleaming under the torch lights. "If you were mine, I would never let you out of my sight," he whispered.

With the side of your eye, you glanced in the direction you knew Aemond to be; still seated beside his mother at the table, with a vacant seat beside him—yours. As you looked at him, you caught a glimpse of him quickly turning his head forward again, averting his gaze.

You took a long and steadying breath, holding it in your lungs for a beat before allowing it to fall from your lips. This was no place to cause a scene—the many voices blending with one another around you and the musicians' tune reminded you as much—even if Prince Aegon seemed eager to taunt you for it.

"Hello to you too, Aegon," you tried a smile, leaning your head to the side as you looked at him, "Are you enjoying yourself tonight?"

"Oh much," he raised his eyebrows, never losing the smirk. "Though I understand if you aren't, we both know my poor brother is hardly the most entertaining to have as one's company." The Prince threw a quick glance Aemond's way as well. He walked closer to you, boldness born from the wine in his system; "I don't blame you… For going away."

You leveled him with a glare when he invaded your space, eyes turning as sharp as a dragon's. "Aemond is one of the few people here worth having around." And you weren't daft, you knew he'd hinted at the years you'd spent away, at Dragonstone. You leaned closer to him, voice low and steady; "And I haven't left, nor do I plan to."

"I was hoping you wouldn't." Aegon expressed in the same breath, one corner of his lips still raised, yet his gaze drifted lower on your face for a moment. "That was quite a show you pulled with my brother at the training yard," he held a pause, eyeing you with amusement, "The day before last."

You hummed, raising a brow.

"Bold," Aegon hushed, twirling the wine on his chalice.

"You were there, then?" You didn't remember seeing Aegon during the rainy day of your sparring with Aemond. But you weren't necessarily paying attention.

"For a bit." The first Prince shrugged. He took a long sip of his wine. "But even if I weren't, all the gossip about it would've been enough."

You refrained from rolling your eyes, glancing aside with pursed lips. No wonder some of the lesser nobles at court had been giving you poorly concealed stares lately, more than you were already used to; you could almost feel their whispers bouncing off your skin at times, another reason for you to prefer the company of your dragon on most days. "People talk too much, unnecessarily so." You focused back to Aegon, only to notice he'd come closer.

"Congratulations on the betrothal, by the way." He spoke only for you, as if it was still a secret, "I was most pleased to hear you'll be joining the family."

You scoffed. The only thing between you and him was the chalice of wine Aegon still had in his hand, and you were lucky most people had diverted their attention to the dance that had just begun in the center of the Great Hall. "I thank you, my Prince," you spoke pointedly, more in jest than anything else.

A low chuckle came from Aegon, he had his lips parted, tongue between his teeth; "Know that, if you ever grow bored of my dear brother… My door is always unlocked for you." It was all sultry and suggestive, like he knew he went over the line and was enjoying every minute of it, almost as if instigating a reaction; "Gods know you're too good for-"

And Aegon earned his prize when you cut him off by taking a fistful of his robes and forcefully turning him around, slamming his back onto the stone wall. A grunt escaped the Prince, the wine of his chalice spilling onto his fingers in a deep burgundy stain.

"Have a care on how you speak of my betrothed, Aegon." You all but growled at him, nearly ripping the fabric of his clothes with how tight you bunched it in your hands. "Or, may the gods help me, I ought to turn this feast into a funeral."

"Ah, so fierce." The first Prince's words were something breathless and bordering on needy, coming with a smirk and an eager chuckle from the back of his throat.

You shook your head at him, berating yourself for allowing him to get under your skin, and the look on your face only invited Aegon to lean closer, despite your hold on him. And if he leans closer still, his nose might touch yours. You wondered if that's what he wanted all along. He kept his hands to himself, but there was something all too telling about how he didn't try to get you off him.

"I have-" He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, gaze trailing down on your face, "Missed that fire of yours."

You raised a brow at Aegon. And amidst the music, the smell of scented candles, and the loud voices of the nobles; you leaned closer, innocent tilt to your lips while you held his gaze until you couldn't anymore, until those same lips brushed against the shell of his ear. "Go out, Aegon," you whispered to him, feeling a tingle of satisfaction when you heard him groan, "To the balconies." Pulling back, you took hold of both his cheeks with one hand. A harsh grip that made him wince.

"You're too far gone on your cups. Go and get some fresh air, before you force me to ruin everyone's night," You hissed between your teeth, pushing the first Prince aside as he pouted on your hold.

Aegon lingered only for a moment longer, from the corner of your eyes you could notice him bringing one hand to his face. "Yes ma'am." He downed the last of his drink, and with a clumsy curtsy to you, he was finally walking away.

The last thing you needed was to give the ladies at court more reasons to gossip about you, but Aegon had been a rock in your shoe ever since the days you'd run after him with a sword whenever he pranked his younger brother when you were children. He'd been insufferable then and you were less than pleased to know he'd apparently grown bolder. But then, so had you.

You turned back to look at Aemond and a long sigh of relief left your lungs when you saw him enthralled in a conversation with his mother, still seated at the table—good, there was no need for him to trouble himself with his brother tonight. You smoothed down the fabric of your gown and made your way back to your seat beside your betrothed.

Daemon caught your eye as you sat back down, he gave you a small smile, which you returned. The rogue Prince then extended a hand to his wife, the Queen. And you watched as she took it with a bashful smile before being led to the center of the Great Hall—they fell into a rhythm easily, following the melody as they danced.

It didn't take long for Aemond's attention to divert back to you when he felt your presence return to his side. He had a strong grip on his chalice of wine, knuckles white, but it loosened when you met his stare with a tight-lipped smile.

The Prince had been incessantly tapping his fingers on the table for the past fifteen minutes. Partly because he'd seen you with Aegon, partly because he was all too aware of the couples dancing in front of him.

The musicians' song was a slow one, dominated by a soft violin tune. The dance being shared looked nothing short of intimate, every Lord within the Keep had taken his Lady's hand when the melody began.

Distant telltales of the pain behind Aemond's eyepatch lingered. He worried that the headache might return at any point in the night. A few loud voices here and there had already made him wince and grit his teeth. He'd refrained from eating too much; the pain had been bothering him all day, making him less than inclined to put food in his stomach. But there was a nagging in his chest, like longing mixed with something bitter that wouldn't go away, and it grew stronger when the Prince spotted you with his brother.

You were his, after all—the one thing he couldn't allow Aegon to take from him.

Aemond cleared his throat, turning to face you. He was not meant to be a husband, for how could he ever be a good one? There was no gentleness in his life, the only love he'd ever known had been conditional; he didn't know how to do it. Aemond extended his hand to you, anyway.

"My lady," Aemond's voice was timid and hushed. He only looked up at you after a beat of hesitation. "Would you do me the honor?”

Within the most vulnerable parts of his heart, the Prince still hoped to win your affections, even if sometimes he thought himself a fool for it—you and he were stuck in a betrothal born out of duty, after all. With seven years cutting through what you once were. During these very moments with you that Aemond treasured so much, he couldn't help but feel a chill in his stomach.

The question caught you off guard even if it shouldn't have. Every Lord and their Lady-wife participated in the dance, so it would only be proper for you and your betrothed to join, as well. Aemond was performing his duty, that's all. But your mouth turned dry, and you struggled to find words. "The- the honor would be mine, my Prince."

You placed your hand upon Aemond's, his fingers closing around yours all too carefully, and he led you to the center of the Great Hall. "Was my brother bothering you, my Lady?" He couldn't keep himself from asking.

Aemond was more than capable of guiding you through this dance with his eye closed, and yet he faltered, only placing his other hand at your waist when you gently took hold of his arm and secured it there. Once he felt the curves of your body under his hand, however, his hold became steady and strong—nigh possessive. It sent goosebumps down your spine that you tried to mask.

"I'm afraid I'm well used to your brother's antics." You analyzed your surroundings, feeling oddly exposed even if you were amidst many other nobles. You kept your hold on one of Aemond's hands, placing your other hand on his shoulder. With your chest close to his, your breath ran shallow. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before, luckily he remains easy." With a shrug, you shifted your gaze forward, meeting the eye of your betrothed.

Aemond's attention on you shifted, he peered around as well. Maids whispered in each other's ears, noble ladies looked upon his hand holding you with a look akin to scandal, and Lords followed the sway of your hair hungrily. Everyone was looking. Everyone whispering about the second Prince's new betrothed.

"Hey." You stole back his attention, and he felt his destructive thoughts quieting down. The smile you wore was soft and kind, and it was for him.

"Focus on me," you breathed. And Aemond gladly would.

There was a small curl of your hair that had caught on one of your earrings. Aemond's eye slowly traveled your face until he saw it. The Prince raised his hand for a moment, only so he could delicately pull it free—his touch so careful you barely felt it when the tip of his fingers grazed your cheek—and then his hand settled back on your waist. You held your breath the entire time.

"I remember well." Aemond had the ghost of a smile that he tried to hide. "Aegon has always been intimidated by you." The Prince twirled you then, a steady motion that got your gown dancing around your frame, and then brought you right back into his arms.

The two of you fell into a rhythm together, as easy as breathing. Your bodies moved in synch with each other, as if you knew the movement the other would make before it even happened. At one point your fingers intertwined with Aemond's, fitting between one another as if they belonged. Your swaying along the expanse of the Great Hall slowed down to something more intimate, even more so than the soft melody of the musicians.

A trembled breath left Aemond's lips, his eye searched your face for something—and he must've found it, because you felt his hand at your waist close more firmly around you, the tips of his fingers traced your spine and he pulled you closer to himself. You in turn moved your hold on his shoulder to the back of his neck, hand disappearing beneath his long hair.

Aemond seemed caught in a trance, the color of his iris barely visible, only a small ring around the blown pupil. His lips were parted, something a little unsure, nervous. But he was close, so close. You could count each faded freckle, each twist and turn of the scar on his cheek.

There was something entirely too magical about Aemond. Too princely, as cliche as that may be. His pin-straight silver hair framed his face, you couldn't help but notice how wisps of it escaped over the strap of his eyepatch as well—once again you stopped yourself from reaching over, from tucking it behind his ear and allowing your touch to wander. He belonged in a castle, he belonged in royalty, you decided. For seeing Aemond under the fire of the chandelier as his careful hands guided you through a slow dance—bodies close, all intimate and tender—was bewitching.

You couldn't know who did it. Perhaps you met together in the middle. But you and Aemond swayed to a soft melody, hands interlocked, as your foreheads came to rest against one another. His nose bumped yours and you could see through your lashes how he closed his eye and leaned closer still.

And Aemond breathed you in, inebriated in the feeling of you. Your perfume was all-encompassing, your touch as warm as dragonfire, your breath fanning over his lips; he wanted you in his arms forevermore. The feeling all too foreign to him, yet he couldn't have enough of it.

Could duty ever evoke such a moment?

Was the question you distantly asked yourself. Right now, hands shaking for being a breath away from touching his lips with yours; you couldn't know the answer.

What felt like hours, lasted maybe a minute or two. Aemond pulled away, ever so slowly, almost as if it pained him to do so, and so you did the same. The look on your Prince's face was nearly unreadable, but not for the lack of emotion, rather for the overflowing of it. Aemond's eye glinted under the firelight. He looked very pale and very nervous, and a little… hopeful.

You were sure your face mirrored his.

"Why-" Your voice stumbled, a little breathless "Why is that, do you think?" You squeezed Aemond's hand out of instinct.

Your words gave him pause. Aemond opened and closed his mouth as he willed his hazy mind to catch up and remember what it was you were speaking about. A difficult task, all he could focus on was you—your perfume, your closeness, the outlines of your face highlighted in golden hues—you. "I uh-" He gulped, glancing away for a beat and two, to allow himself some respite, "You have an effect on people."

Blinking at his response, you were about to ask what he meant by it when Aemond ducked his head with a sharp intake of air. His brows scrunched and he let go of your waist to bring his hand to his face, over his eyepatch.

Aemond gave an involuntary grunt when his eye socket started throbbing, instantly bringing back the heavy headache surrounding his scar. it came suddenly, the once dull pain he'd managed to keep on the back of his mind now had each of his nerve endings burning. At the same time that the pain kept him from opening his one good eye, the skin around his scar felt numb and warm to the touch. It was the last thing the Prince wanted, his heart bled in his chest at the thought of ruining your night with his burden.

"Aemond?" Your gentle voice came almost like a soothing kiss over his pain. "Is something wrong? Are you alright?" You worried.

"Yes," Aemond forced out, heavy blinks getting his eye open again even if his sight blurred at the edges and blended with the warm lighting of the Hall. The Prince felt nauseous at the nearly unbearable pain, he could feel his face twitching and turned his head aside and away from your increasingly concerned gaze. "All is… well."

Only a fool would believe him. Aemond had turned tense, his face constricted in a weird way while he nearly crushed your fingers with his grip. "Are you… certain?" Yet you knew better than to call him out blatantly. If Aemond wanted to keep something to himself, he would, no matter what you did.

A breath stumbled past his lips, and Aemond cleared his throat, stalling his answer.

"Why don't we-" You paused, regarding him with unbridled worry and a heavy heart, "Why don't we step aside for a while? I can grab us something to drink."

Aemond nodded. "Okay." His voice was quieter than he'd wanted it to be.

You didn't let go of his hand as you dragged him aside, away from the commotion. You were not sure of what he was feeling, but you were almost certain that it was the same thing that had bothered him during the coronation ceremony. It wasn't your place to demand answers, not yet, but you wished he'd be truthful with you. You wished he'd allow himself to be helped.

Aemond's hold of your hand was a tight one, you weren't sure he even realized he did it. You held his hand between both of yours when you stopped just beside the long wooden table you'd been seated before. Running your thumb over his knuckles, hoping to calm him. It didn't do much.

"Forgive me, I-" The Prince refrained from looking you in the eyes, shame weighed heavy in his stomach. His lower lip wobbled with each of the heavy breaths he took. Clouded by pain, Aemond's mind conjured up punishing questions; what if this makes you leave his side again? What if you decide that someone as imperfect as he is not deserving of you?

"Don't fret," you spoke in the same beat, bringing him back to you—always bringing him back. "I was already going to suggest we stop for a glass of wine."

Pursing his lips, Aemond gulped. He mourned the wish of dancing with you until the first rays of sun peeked over the horizon. Aemond's nostrils flared with anger—if he weren't so weak, if he hadn't had his eye cut out, if he wasn't so damaged; he wouldn't have to end your night so suddenly.

"I'll be back in just a minute, alright?" You tried finding his gaze, leaning slightly closer, but couldn't.

Aemond grew restless at the idea of letting go of your hand, like it was a lifeline keeping him afloat—the thought of you leaving him again scared him more than he'd ever want to admit, it made his heart jump into his mouth, and turned his insides as cold as the north's winter. The past seven years might've left a deeper scar than the one on his face. But he did so anyway. It wasn't your burden to bear. He managed a crooked smile for you, the silver strands of his hair bouncing gently as he nodded.

The Prince watched your retreating figure, his eye following you as you reached the long table amidst the crowd and filled one chalice with wine and the other with water. There was something alluring about the way the light of the candles bounced off the embellishments of your dress, how it made your skin glow. Aemond wanted to keep that image of you with him forever, sewn neatly on the tapestries of his mind. He wished to remember this night like this; dancing with you under the golden lights, your hand in his, your eyes on him, your smile for him. And not by the pain that now left a nauseating twist to his barely filled stomach, that blurred his sight at the edges and tarnished the image of you.

Aemond wanted to keep the precious memory for what it was. And so he turned around, and left.

You held the two chalices in your hands. One with wine for you, and the other with water for Aemond. He seemed distressed, that much was clear, you'd noticed the skin around his scar spasming at the same time he'd wince—you'd figured wine wouldn't help with that.

However, a Lord with a fat belly that you didn't know the name of, thought now would be the perfect time to tell you about his lands and fortunes back home. You remained polite as his annoying voice rang into your ears, smiling rather awkwardly while slowly taking a few steps away.

"That is delightful, my Lord. Surely your vineyards are a sight to behold. But I really must-"

"Do fly to our land sometime, my lady. I have all the means necessary to build a formidable Dragonpit." The old Lord gloated, stuffing his chest where his brown beard lay.

"I uh-" Something between a chuckle and a groan escaped you, "I will… keep that in mind. But now I really should be going back to my husband." The word left your mouth before you could think better of it. And you surprised yourself by liking the shape of it on your tongue, when the person behind the title was Aemond.

The Lord, however, deflated in his pride after you spoke. He grumbled something under his breath before saying, "Be well, fair lady."

You didn't waste another second before turning on your heels and sped walking to the other side of the Great Hall, a huff of relief falling past your lips. You stopped at the same spot you'd left your Prince, but there was no sign of him. Turning your head left, and then right, and then back and again. You couldn't spot him.

There was a deep frown crinkling your features and a strange sense of emptiness inside your chest. You spotted Jace then, popping an olive into his mouth as he took a break from his dance with Baela.

"Jace," you called, stepping up to him. The young Prince turned to you with his mouth full but still sporting a smile. "Hey, have you seen Aemond? I lost sight of him." You looked over the bustling Hall again for good measure, but to no avail.

"Oh yeah, I did actually," Jace spoke after he'd swallowed his food, he gestured to the main oak-and-bronze doors, "He left."

You blinked, mouth agape as you looked from Jace, to the doors, and back to Jace. "What- what do you mean?" No—you tried believing—Aemond wouldn't simply leave your side without any regard, he was your partner for the night, your betrothed.

The Velaryon boy shrugged. His features were sympathetic, if a little lost. "He just left."

You nodded hesitantly, pointer finger tapping the rim of one of the chalices.

He just left.

What if duty was all there was, after all?

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next chapter will be out soon.

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