#but i went ahead and watched it here and omg

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: What About You Drives Your Future Spouse Wild (18+) ✮⋆˙

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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♬⋆.˚ PILE I

ִCards pulled: 3 of Wands reversed, The Hermit, High Priestess, King of Cups

Omg, Pile 1, buckle up because when I tell you your future spouse is down bad, I mean they are spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically OBSESSED—and in ways they won’t even admit out loud because it’s that deep.

First of all, when I lay these cards down, the first vibe I get is that you are giving "unreachable fantasy" energy. You drive them wild because you have this mystery, this depth, this "I’ll let you see only what I want you to see" vibe, and THAT, babe, makes them spiral in the best way. Like, you could just walk into a room and look at your phone and suddenly they're imagining a whole life with you, and a whole night with you👀🔥 it’s not just your body or your face, it’s your entire vibe. You are quietly powerful, and you carry this AURA that’s magnetic as HELL. Like you could be sitting in a corner sipping on a drink, eyes scanning the room (or pretending to be on your phone), and they are LOSING IT because why do you look that good while doing nothing? You’re not out here trying to be the center of attention—and that's what makes you the center of THEIR attention.

And 3 of Wands reversed adds this extra flavor of “You’re not trying to be seen, but can’t help but be seen”, which makes them go feral😭. Like, they’re watching you from across the room thinking, "How is this person just existing and looking like THAT?!" It's restraint that makes them imagine all the ways they want to make you lose control (👀 yeah, we went there). Your eyes and the way you look at them—like you see straight through their soul. You might give them a little smirk or look away too soon, and that’s it—they’re GONE.

Okay but let’s be real—the King of Cups comes in like “yes I’m obsessed but their body makes me think unholy.” You give off sensual energy without even trying. It’s not like you’re trying to be hot—you just are. You may have something about your eyes—like, those “I see right through you” eyes—or your lips, like they can’t stop staring at them when you talk. You could be wearing a paper bag and still make them want to risk it all. And they love your natural vibe, like you could have messy hair, wearing sweatpants, and they’d still be like, “I want them. Now.”

King of Cups also tells me they are very emotionally deep, but when it comes to YOU, you make them lose that composure. Like this is someone who might normally be cool, calm, collected—but when you look at them a certain way? They’re cooked. You have this way of stirring up deep, secret cravings they didn't even know they had. You make them want to worship you—your body, your mind, your energy. And not just in some one-night thing; nah, they want to keep coming back. You give "can’t get enough" vibes.

Let me tell you something—High Priestess + King of Cups together? They fantasize about you. Period. In ways that would make them blush if you ever knew. You make them weak in ways they don't share with anyone else. I’m talking late-night, can’t sleep, thinking about you energy. They imagine you taking control one moment, then being completely vulnerable the next, and that contrast drives them insane.

They are obsessed with the way you hold back, too. Like, if you’re a little shy or reserved in public, they want to be the one to see the side of you no one else gets—the side that’s wild, passionate, and raw. The more you hold back or play it cool, the more they wanna see what’s behind that poker face, like even in bed, if you make him wait and play a little hard to get, he's gonna GO FERAL OVER IT. Also, i see that you make them feel impatient, like they want to skip all the slow stuff and get to the part where they have you all to themselves. They may pretend to be chill, but in their head? ��Get over here and let me show you what you do to me.” Yeah, it's that intense.

You are literally their fantasy made real, but the catch is you’re not trying to be. You give off this "cool on the outside, fire on the inside" vibe, and they want to be the one to set that fire loose. You leave them daydreaming, weak, and low-key losing their mind because you’re the whole package: mysterious, sexy, emotionally deep, naturally attractive, and a little bit unattainable.

And oh baby—once they do get a taste of what’s beneath that calm, mysterious surface? Game over. They’ll be addicted, craving you in ways that even they won’t want to admit. You’re the fantasy they didn’t think could be real, and now that you are, they’re never letting go.

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♬⋆.˚ PILE II

Cards Pulled: Hermit reversed, Page of Wands, 2 of Wands reversed, Chariot

So, let's talk about your future spouse BECAUSE what I see is that they go absolutely feral for you and I mean obsessed, weak in the knees, can't think-straight, craving you in their sleep type of energy. And honey, it’s not just one thing, it's a whole LIST. Like, they try SO hard to play it cool, but deep down? They're starving for you.

So, first of all ,OMG. Listen. You give off this vibe like, "I'm in my own world, but also down to stir up some chaos when I feel like it." You don't follow rules. You don’t do what’s expected. And THAT is what makes them spiral. They can’t pin you down, babe. One moment, you’re all mysterious, pulling away and making them crave your attention, and the next minute, you’re giving them a flirty little smirk like "Oh, were you waiting for me? Poor thing." 😭 And THAT — the way you withhold and give, give and withhold — is driving them UP THE WALL. Like they can’t figure out if they wanna worship you or beg for mercy. 😏

You give them this energy that has them like, "HOW do they make rebellion look this sexy?" You give that "I’m gonna do what I want, when I want, and no one can stop me" energy — and they eat it up. You know what’s hotter? The fact that sometimes you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Like you’re just vibing, and meanwhile, they’re losing their mind because "Why does everything they do look like a scene from a fantasy I didn’t know I had?" 😳🔥

You give them a little taste and then poof, you’re ghosting like "Maybe I’ll text back, maybe I won’t." You keep them guessing, and it makes them insatiable. You don’t hand yourself over easily, and that hard-to-get attitude is like crack to them (I said what I said 💀). The Chariot tells me they are OBSESSED with "winning" you, conquering you, owning the space next to you. But baby, you make them work for it — and the way you don’t need them makes them need you even more.

With the Page of Wands + Chariot, listen they are weak for the way you move. You probably have this effortless swag, like even the way you walk, talk, turn your head — it’s got sexual tension written ALL OVER IT. Like you could be reaching for a glass of water, and they’re sitting there like "God, help me."

Your body language is playful but confident — like you know exactly what effect you have, but you play it off. You’re dangerous because you don’t flaunt it directly, but everything you do says "I’m untouchable, but if I let you touch me, consider yourself lucky."

Also... there’s something youthful and fiery about you, so even if you’re quiet sometimes, when you DO turn on the heat — it’s like, uncontainable. They love how you tease without trying, the way your hips sway, the way you lean in just a little too close, the way you bite your lip when you're focused — they NOTICE.

They fantasize about being the only person you let in. Because you seem so independent and "I don’t need anyone," the idea that you’d be vulnerable only for them? OH, babe, that’s their ultimate fantasy. The idea of you taking control sometimes? Yes, please. Like "Boss me around" type of energy, because you give off "I run this show" vibes. They might never admit this, but it turns them ON. They live for when you get a little flirty and mischievous — like when you make them jealous just a little, act like you don’t care, and then flash that smirk? Yup. They are down bad. They can’t handle it. They’re down so bad, and honestly? We love to see it. ✨

If you wanna sum it up? You are their personal chaos and comfort wrapped in one, and baby, they will never get enough of you. 💋

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♬⋆.˚ PILE III

Cards Pulled: Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups, and 6 of Cups

Okayyy, Pile 3—come sit down, because babe, this reading is JUICY and I'm about to spill allll the tea. THIS. IS. MY. FAVOURITE. PILE.

First of all, the whole vibe of these cards together is giving "slow burn", wholesome baddie energy, and "you're mine and no one else can even look at you" vibe as well. Like, you are their softest obsession and their hardest temptation all rolled into one.

for them it's a LOT—and honestly, I feel like they didn't even see you coming. The way these cards dance together tells me that what gets them hooked isn't just one thing—it's the paradox of you. You’re giving "angel in the streets, devil in the sheets" (I am so proud of myself for soming up with this dope line😭)—because on one hand, you have this stable, grounded, Knight of Pentacles energy, like you’re responsible, maybe a bit mysterious, slow to open up—but when you do? BOOM, Ace of Cups—you're this emotional, overflowing, intense presence and they don’t even know what hit them. It’s that combo of being put together and collected—and then randomly saying or doing something so soft and vulnerable or even accidentally sensual that has them literally clutching their chest like “oh, I'm DONE.” (I was listening to daspecito here btw.😭)

Your body AND attitude combo. You give off the type of person who looks put together, moves gracefully but confidently, like you know what you bring to the table and you’re not pressed to prove it—and THAT drives them insane. The way you casually exist, walk into a room, look over your shoulder—BOOM, they need water. UHM🫠

Babyyyy, this is where it gets FUN. You leave them weak in the knees because you embody both "stable partner" energy and "secretly a freak" energy—and they are OBSESSED with trying to figure out where that line is. 😏 your domestic, partner material vibe turns them on more than they'll ever admit. Like, you doing the simplest stuff—tying your hair up, laughing with friends, being polite to someone—they're like "I need them in my bed AND in my life." I'm they sound like some fbody but trust me this is the best way I can put this energy into words😭.

They literally fantasize about building a life with you AND sneaking you into the pantry for a quick make-out sesh at your own housewarming party, babe, they're building full-on scenarios in their head. BUT the contradiction here is, the fact that you might have soft moments, open up about your past, maybe show them some sentimental side? Instant weakness. They want to be the one who sees that side of you no one else sees—and babe, I’m telling you right now, the idea that YOU would get vulnerable for THEM specifically? That's what has them up at 2 AM with thoughts they cannot share in public. YOU KNOW IT.

Alsoooo, don't let the Knight of Pentacles fool you. This person is into the way you take your time—like, the fact you don’t just give it all away? The slow burn is what KILLS them, it;s similar to pile 2 but in this pile it's intense. The way you might lean in a little, whisper something innocent but in a low voice—BABE. They will remember that for the next week, smiling like a fool and probably texting you something way too casual to cover the fact that you haunt their dreams. 😂💀

Your subtle dominance—the way you can just look at them a certain way and suddenly they’re on their knees in their mind. Like, you could say, "Can you grab me that?" in a normal voice, and they're like "yes, anything, everything, do you need my soul too? (GIVE ME THIS PESON CAUSE OML 😭)"

Your softness and genuine kindness—this is what makes them protective, like "no one else deserves to see this side of them." It makes them wanna hold you close and also… do things to you that are very much not PG. Okay listen, you’re the one they can't get out of their head. You’re that person who makes them wanna settle down and get a mortgage, but also ruin the kitchen counter first. You drive them wild because you give off "together but teasing," soft but sexy, stable but wild in private energy. And babe, they are WEAK for it.

✨ You leave them craving more with your aura, your body, the way you care deeply, the way you take your time, and that secret fire they know is under the surface. You are the kind of person that turns simple moments into fantasies—you fixing your hair? Fantasy. You helping someone? Fantasy. You smiling at them a little longer than necessary? Fantasy. You breathing near them? BABY, fantasy.

And honestly? They are lowkey scared of how obsessed they are—but in the BEST way. You own their mind, body, and soul and they’re just trying to keep it together while planning a future and craving you like air. 💅

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[witherby]

HI HI. SAME ANON :33anon here!!!

omg???? jfc christ? that was so good im shaking my cup for more 😭 i think the fact my ask is being used as a power shower is silly... i love it keep up the good work!

(side note ive done metamorphosis may i be 🎆anon.... i will be yapping at you on a later date o7)

Welcome to the club 🎆 I am smooching ur cheek

Hahaha...wouldn't it be so silly....if I used your ask again.....to post the second part hahahaha.....isn't that the silliest idea hahahaha.........

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist is Here!

"Let me make sure I've got this straight."

Everyone stiffens in their seats. When Batman says things like that, it means he is very, very close to yelling. Batman never yells unless his patience has reached its limit, his emotional threshold has bubbled over, or he hasn't slept in over six consecutive days. Given his usual activities, it could very well be a combination of the three, and the current situation is not helping.

"You —" he points a gauntleted finger at Manhunter, "— realized my child was showing signs of developing their powers six weeks ago, and told no one."

He turns to Superman and Diana next, talking through clenched teeth.

"And then you two, today, realized the same thing, indirectly told them they would no longer have a place in my home, and then they vanished under your cape."

He places his hands on the meeting table. Inhales. Exhales.

"No one attempted to reach out and express their concerns to me, the father, in either incident."

He slams his fists on the table. The wood splinters under the impact. Everyone flinches with it.

"AND NOW MY CHILD IS MISSING! DID I FORGET ANYTHING? DID I LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!?"

The silence afterwards is deafening. Bruce yanks his cowl off and slams it to the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"The Watchtower is under lockdown until further notice. We do not leave until either I find my kid, or I figure out how to track them down."

"Batman," the Flash chimes in, "I feel for you. This is a bad situation, but we can't all stay here; I have to —"

Bruce rounds the table and crowds Barry into his seat with near-inhuman speed. His eyes are wide and wild and his teeth are bared.

"We do not leave until I find them."

The lights briefly turn red and an automated voice comes over the intercom, alerting them that lockdown protocols have initiated. The heroes watch as blast shields cover the windows and the Zeta tubes deactivate, effectively blocking their only ways out.

Green Lantern re-enters the room from the observation deck with a determined expression.

"Checked the monitors and surrounding galaxy. Skies are clear, and earth-side we should be fine for at least a couple hours, so I went ahead and triggered the protocol."

"Hal!" Barry protests. "C'mon, I'm gonna be late to work again! It's not as easy for some of us to maintain our civilian covers, you know!"

"Well, then it sounds like we gotta find our missing Mouse fast."

Bruce presses a button on his gauntlet and pulls a small ball out of it, rolling it to the center of the table. A hologram screen pops up and shows a picture of you sitting in Tim's lap and enthusiastically looking at something on his computer with him. To the right of the image, a wall of text begins to appear, detailing observations made about your growth, health, and development of your powers.

"You already knew," Diana mutters, like the words have been punched out of her. Clark holds his head in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us then, huh?" Oliver frowns. "Didn't think we could benefit from that information?"

"My child, my discretion," Bruce hisses. That shuts Ollie right back up. "This is everything I've been able to passively observe about their ability. They can latch onto any shadows in their immediate vicinity, up to a range of approximately one hundred feet, and until now has only used them for pathfinding, like solving puzzles or looking for small objects. What just happened today with Superman's cape is the first discovered instance of them being able to traverse into darkness itself."

"That's why the Watchtower is locked down," J'onn realizes. "If they can only travel so far with the shadows, chances are high that they're still in here."

"Yes."

"How do we pull them out if we find them?" Arthur speaks up, arms crossed. "Last I checked, no one else has shadow powers."

"Do what you can without risking injury to them or yourselves. If you can talk them out, that will be the ideal tactic. Any more questions?" Bruce waits a few seconds for anyone to speak up, then dismisses the holo-screen and rises to his full height. "Then everyone fan out, cast some shadows, and get to work."

--

Arthur is having no luck. He checks the furniture that was already casting shadows, like tables and beds and appliances, to no avail. Calling to you and feeling around those dark spaces isn't gonna get him anywhere.

Clark and Diana had picked up his cape and hunkered down under the fabric, gingerly asking you to please come out, Uncle Clark and Auntie Di are very sorry they implied what they did, they never meant to scare you, please please please come back.

Barry is zipping around the whole tower, checking high spaces and low, calling for you with a mixture of urgency and concern.

Ollie uses his body to cast a shadow under the fluorescent lighting and Dinah crouches in the space of it, patting the ground gently and urging you to appear. She insists everyone is worried and looking for you because they want you to be safe.

Bruce is frantic. He's visually very composed, but Hal can see the tremble in his hands as he slowly and methodically checks every single shadow he can find or create for signs of you.

"Bruce," Hal mutters, watching him check his cape for the fifteenth time in just as many minutes. "Bruce, sit down and breathe for a bit."

"Don't mention breathing," Bruce snaps. "This is unprecedented. I'm working with zero useful information and three of my teammates contributed to this situation in the first place. Can they just exist in darkness forever, or is there a limit before they get spit back out? Can they even get back out? Is there oxygen wherever they are? Are they safe or in any kind of distress? If you don't have answers to these questions or haven't found them yet, I don't want you talking to me."

He turns to check his cape again and almost runs right into J'onn.

"There was a shadow moving in the training room," he noted. "When I approached to investigate, it melted away. I found it important to tell you that Flittermouse seems to be active and uninjured judging by the ease in which that shadow moved."

The Manhunter leaves them again, phasing through the walls to continue searching for you. Bruce pulls his gloves off and rubs his face, sighing.

"Hal."

"I forgive you," comes the immediate reply. Hal places a hand on Bruce's back and offers him a thin smile. "You're a dad who's scared for your four-year-old kid. I think you're entitled to a little bit of bitchiness."

Bruce hums.

"Just a little bit, though. Like fifteen percent more bitch than your baseline. Which is to say, if you talk to me like that again I'm going to make a giant cartoon hammer and beat you to death with it."

Both men hear you giggle. Their heads whip around in the direction of the sound, and find a small, child-shaped shadow moulded into the corner. It's a strange thing, to look at a shadow with no source. It would be frightening if it wasn't you.

"Mouse?" Bruce immediately calls, stepping towards you. The giggling stops and the shadow shrinks. He crouches down, palms extended. "No no no! Don't go, don't go anywhere, please. Can I talk to you?"

You don't respond. Bruce isn't entirely sure if you can, in your current form. You haven't run away yet, however, so he inches just a bit closer.

"I'm...there's...." He stops and starts, searching for the best words to use. "Mouse, there was a misunderstanding. No one is making you leave. I'm not going to give you up or send you away, I promise."

"...m e t a h u m a n..." you mutter. Both Bruce and Hal shiver. It sounds like darkness itself whispering directly into their ears, faint and echoing and all-encompassing.

"Yes, that's what people with skills like yours are called," he confirms.

Your shadow doesn't move for a while. Bruce shuffles closer, palms extended, and is about to ask you to come out, but then your entire form wobbles and starts shrinking even more.

"...n o m e t a s i n G o t h a m..." you say, and the sadness in your voice is so potent Hal has to brace himself against the wall.

"No!" Bruce says, pressing his palm against the wall just a second too late. You dissolve and disappear. "That's not — ffffffuck."

He presses his forehead to the wall and closes his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to avoid screaming. It takes a while.

"They're not going to talk to me," he eventually says. "They're scared of me, of that damned rule I —"

He cuts himself off and rubs a hand down his face.

"You have to do it."

"Me? Specifically?" Hal asks.

"You're their favorite uncle." Bruce pushes himself off the floor and rests his hand on Hal's forearm. "They adore you. They ask when you're going to visit Gotham again all the time. If anybody's gonna get them to understand that they're not in any trouble or danger of losing their family because of something I did, it's gonna be you."

"Whoa. No pressure," Hal says. He knows it's true though — you absolutely adore Hal, and the feeling is mutual. You feel almost like his own kid. He's just as scared as Bruce is about your current situation. "Okay...alright, I got this. Listen, tell the others that Mouse probably isn't gonna come out for 'em. Go hang out in the meeting room and gimme an hour alone. I'll bring them back."

Bruce nods, but he seems hesitant to leave the part of the hall where they spotted your shadow. Hal gives him a small nudge and he eventually turns away, his boots clocking softly against the floor.

Hal inhales slowly, holds it, then exhales for a count of ten.

He's got this.

--

He does not have this. Hal walked into an empty corridor and flicked all the lights off, choosing to sit in the darkness and try calling out to you for almost thirty minutes. There's been no luck.

He sighs and uses his ring to construct a small bear, illuminating the immediate space around him in green, and makes it walk around.

"Y'know you used to love playing with my constructs," he murmurs. "We had this game I made up, where you would chase after whatever toy I made as fast as you could and try to catch it. I let you win a lot."

He makes a construct of you as a much smaller infant, not yet able to walk, crawling eagerly after the bear.

"You'd grab the little toy and hug it tight, and then come show me you got it. And I'd scoop you up and give you a cookie before we did it all again. We had to really tone down the cookie part because you got sick one time. Bruce made me sleep on the floor for a week. Not even one of the million couches in the manor. The floor. It was the worst."

He hears the surrounding darkness around him giggle. Hal leans against the wall and heaves a large, relieved sigh.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "S'good to hear you."

You don't respond. He tries not to feel discouraged, instead seizing the opportunity presented.

"I'm not gonna ask you to come out, but if you don't mind...I'm kinda lonely. D'you think we could play that game again?"

Hal vanishes the constructs and makes a new one — a small, stuffed bat toy. He makes it flap its little wings and flop in circles.

"Think you can catch it? This one's a bit feisty."

Nothing happens for a few seconds. Hal feels himself growing nervous, and he's about to abandon the idea and suggest something else, but then the bat just vanishes. The construct is sucked up into the shadows, like darkness itself came up and hugged it into the void. A knot in his chest comes undone.

"That," he says, "was awesome. Okay, here's another one. Even feistier than the last."

This goes on for a while. Hal makes something for you to chase, you emerge from the dark just long enough to pull it in with you, and the process is rinse and repeat. Eventually, though, you come out of the shadows more and more, staying out of it longer and longer to chase around the conjured toys, until you're just tossing them into the shadows with gleeful little cheers.

"Got it!" You cry, jumping up to reach another one, this time shaped like an owl. You're panting from exertion and grinning widely at Hal, just standing and hugging it to your chest. "I win?"

"You win again," Hal agrees, expression painfully fond. He adores you wholeheartedly. "C'mere and get a victory hug, kid. Don't have any cookies on me, but we'll do a raincheck on that."

You go to him easily, practically collapsing in his lap, and rest your head against his chest while you idly pet the glowing owl toy. The area is bathed in dim green, enough to see each other without strain but still casting more than enough shadows for you to hide in again if you wanted.

"Fantastic job," Hal murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle into his chest even more, hiding your face. "We definitely have to do that again some time. Don't you think?"

You start to nod, but the motion is jerky. You hesitate, then shrug, hugging the toy tighter.

"Oh, Mousey," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You didn't think your powers would make Uncle Hal stop wanting to play with you, did ya?"

You slowly nod again, curling in on yourself.

"Well, that's just plain wrong. I love you, honey. Everybody loves you, y'know? You're smart, and adorable, and soooo much fun to be around," Hal insists, giving you a quick squeeze. Your mouth twitches like you're trying not to smile. "And it's gonna be way more fun now that you have cool shadow powers! Hide and seek might get a little challenging, but we'll make it work."

"...and Daddy?" You mutter. "Will he...want to play, too?"

"I know Daddy would love to play any game you wanted," Hal swore. "Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. And you know what else?"

"What?" You ask, lifting your head. You look at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hanging onto his every word.

"Sometimes Daddy makes mistakes. Like creating dumb rules he shoulda broke years ago."

You look away, snuggling further into Hal.

"What if...Daddy don't wanna break the rule?" You whisper.

Hal curls around you almost protectively, kissing your head again.

"Then he's a big, smelly dummy, and I'll take care of you instead," he promises. "You can live at my house, and I'll still bring you to the Watchtower to hang out with everyone and play games, and maybe, if you're extra good, I'll take you on vacation in outer space. I'll show you things you've never seen, like planets with four moons, and people as tall as skyscrapers, and space food that turns your hair all different colors. It'll explode your tiny head!"

"Nooo!" You giggle, grinning. "I don't want a exploded head!"

"Hmm...you drive a hard bargain kid," Hal says. "Okay, I won't give you explodey-head food. But only because you said so."

He lets you get your laughter out, then gently pats your back to regain your attention.

"I know you're very scared," he says, "but I promise this doesn't change the fact that you are so, so incredibly loved. I bet if you gave the others a chance, they'd be more than willing to prove it. Especially your dad."

You tighten your grip on the owl in your arms, bottom lip wobbling for a moment.

"Could you give him a chance, Mouse?" Hal asks. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We can work an arrangement out and always try again a different day. But I know he would be really, really excited to see you again."

You stare at Hal, face tight in contemplation. He waits patiently, continuing to rub small circles in your back.

His patience is rewarded when you bury your face in his chest again, nodding.

"Want daddy," you whisper. Hal settles you more securely in his arms and immediately rises to his feet, relishing the burst of satisfaction and relief in his chest.

He takes you back into the meeting room. Bruce immediately stands up from the table when he spots you curled up in Hal's embrace, hands twitching like he wants to hold you himself.

He moves with all the carefulness of someone approaching a wild animal. His face is uncharacteristically open, broadcasting his worry for you and relief that you're unharmed.

"Hi, sweet pea," Bruce mutters, silk-soft, and that's all it takes to make you start sobbing and reach for him. Your father doesn't hesitate, sweeping you up and giving assurance after assurance that you are just as treasured and loved as you've always been, that he is so happy to be your dad, that you belong in Gotham and that will never change no matter what.

The lockdown gets lifted from the Watchtower. Several heroes, after conveying their relief and gratitude over your safety, take their leave. Diana and Clark stay behind to apologize profusely, both to you and Bruce, for implying that you would ever be unwelcome in your own home just for being different. It's easy for you to forgive them, but Bruce is grinding his jaw a bit, so they excuse themselves for the night and take their leave.

"Well." Hal claps his hands together and yawns. "I'm ready for a drink and a bed. What do we say we hit the road, huh? C'mon, B, let's get Flittermouse back home. I've hit my daily quota for adventure."

Bruce nods, walking with you back to the Zeta tubes. You've already nodded off in his arms, drained from your stressful day.

"Thank you, Hal," he says, preparing to warp home. "Come by after the kids are in bed. Let me repay you properly."

"Y'know, normally I'd be all over that," Hal smirks, "but I'm seriously beat. Can I cash my reward in tomorrow?"

Bruce gives him a small smile. "Whenever you want. Come by anyway, if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, then." Hal crosses his arms and relaxes against the corridor wall, smiling down at your dozing form. "You take care. Both of you."

Bruce thanks him again, disappearing in a flash of light. When Hal drops by later that evening, he finds his boyfriend asleep with you in his arms, clinging to his shirt and drooling on his chest as you coast peacefully in Dreamland.

Before joining the cuddle pile, he finds that sitting on the nightstand, written in a combination of pen and crayon, is a contract holding both yours and Bruce's signatures:

The rule against Metahumans in Gotham is hereby null and void forever and ever.

Signed by: Daddy & Mousey

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”

*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen

Or

Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

Part 2

Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.

Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.

She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.

Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.

“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”

You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”

Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.

As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.

You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.

The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.

You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.

“Lucy said you sing.”

You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.

His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.

You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”

Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.

His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”

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[chlmtsdoll]

Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk. But a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks started to heat up just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the doorway.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Omg I saw your post and I love it!! What about like lestrange!reader that’s absolutely nothing like her parents and now that they escaped Azkaban she’s not just worried for her but for her boyfriend(you can insert any guy here) and she suggests for them to break up and he just immediately refuses!! Basically just fluff

In this together - George Weasley

based on this post - i LOVE how this request came in instantly i was so happy writing this!! summary: when you find out that your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped Azkaban, you have a crisis, thankfully short lived due to your boyfriend's care for the situation cw: flinching away from parent but idk if that's a mention of abuse. wc: 1k+

The blood drained from your face as you stared at the newspaper, your mother’s horrific laugh ringing in your ears despite the eery silence of the moving image in front of you. Your tea went cold, steam evaporating into the Great Hall’s frigid atmosphere. Everyone’s energy was low, accusatory stares aimed towards you despite your fearful nature at the discover of your parents’ escape from Azkaban. Dropping the newspaper on the table, you stared straight ahead, noticing how several students instantly averted their gaze from you through your peripheral vision. Escaping the hungry stares of the students in the Great Hall, you were ignorant to one pair of eyes worriedly observing your retreating figure.

You remember your last visit to Azkaban, a mandatory yearly visit, added into your mother’s plea deal. Whilst your father had gone down easily, pleading guilty to all his crimes, Bellatrix had demanded you visit her once a year in order for her to take the plea. Of course, as a baby you had no one to defend your word, and the condition of your visits immediately became inked into the plea agreement. You had sat across from your mother, head bowed down in submission, grateful that you’d become a legal adult in just a couple of months, and you’d never have to visit her again. Bellatrix had tried reaching out to you, touching your face, but she’d immediately been pulled back by magical forces. Forces which almost blinded her from the way you flinched away from her, losing balance on the small visitor’s stool you sat on.

Bellatrix had scowled, fury engulfing her body at the sight of her own daughter violently jerking away from in fear. In the midst of her anger, she had stood up, slamming her cuffed hands down on the table in a flurry of metal clanging and high pitched ringing. She screamed until her face turned red, causing aurors to pull her away while another ushered you out of the institution. Now, you feared for what she might do to you now that she was free. Her obsession with your life had allowed her to discover information about you whilst locked in the prison, further alarming you every time she revealed a layer of knowledge she knew about you. 

A loud call of your name across the hallway had you sharply spinning around in front of the large snake statue adorning the entrance to the slytherin common room. Your shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of George running towards you, his fiery hair blowing away from his face as he hurried to reach you. The furrow in your eyebrows didn't relent, worry still engulfing your body. When George reached you, he didn't hesitate to tug your body into his in a warm hug. You held your boyfriend close to you, shutting your eyes tightly. “Hey.” He spoke up, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to skip Hogsmeade this week? Spend some time here instead?” You nodded silently, feeling the tremor in your hand at the shock of the situation, shutting and opening your mouth, painfully aware of the way George was analysing your face.

“What is it?” He asked, watching as you formed the words in your head, eyes scanning the room. “George. We’re not, it’s not safe for us. I don’t know what she’ll do to me, but she’ll kill you if she finds out.” It was George’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, trying to make sense of your sentences as he pulled away from you, holding your shoulders at arm’s length. “You being in a relationship with me isn’t safe as long as she’s out of Azkaban.” You clarified, giving him a pointed look despite the unwanted tears building up in your eyes. “Sweetheart,” George smiled in spite of the situation, leaning his head down so he was levelled with you. “Lovely, if you’re trying to break up with me it’s not going to work.” A single teardrop rolled down your cheek at the gravity of the situation and you sniffled, wiping a hand across your cheek to wipe the wetness away.

“Oh, darling.” George mumbled, bringing you back into the hug, pressing his lips against your forehead without kissing you. “We’re in this together, yeah?” He whispered against your skin. When you didn’t nod, he pulled away from you slightly, though he kept you in his arms, repeating his words. “We’re in this together, okay?” You nodded, replying with a shaky “Okay” which left him satisfied. After a while of keeping you in his arms, you finally spoke up again. “I don’t want her to hurt you.” George brushed strands of hair away from your eyes, pressing fluttering kisses all over your face, his hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place. You huffed, a smile finally making its way onto your face after he set another dozen kisses on your cheeks and forehead. You giggled, hands coming up to push your boyfriend’s face away from yours, but he tucked his face into the crook of your neck instead, pressing kisses there.

“If she tries to hurt either of us I assure you my mum will be stood there with a slipper in each hand.” You scoffed in amusement, laughing loudly when he added “Deadly weapons these.” 

George fully pulled away from you, snaking a hand into yours and intertwining your fingers, muttering the password for the slytherin common room. The passageway opened, and you strolled into the common room, leading George up the stairs towards your dorm, listening as he said. “Anyway, you’re safe at Hogwarts for now, and then you’ll be with the whole family during the Christmas break anyway.” Your eyebrows shot up, and you glanced towards George, humming as you asked “Am I?” George stopped in his tracks, looking at you suspiciously. “What you think you can come spend the summer with us and then never come home again? Mum would throw a fit. She said we can even share the bed this time, so you know she really likes you.“ 

[slxtarchive]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄 ✿ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you, harry, and some friends from your high school went out to your local diner to have dinner and relax. a few guys from your high school were there as well, harry wasn’t very happy when one of them had been bold enough to talk to you, and you went ahead and responded …

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. SMUT ! friends with benefits trope, oral (f) receiving, orgasm denial, edging, fingering, jealous h, hair pulling.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. repost because it wouldn't let me edit it to fix something but this was my very first fic ever that i wrote omg

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. roughly 1.6k +

you had been invited to have dinner with a couple of friends from school at around 8 pm and it was ten minutes till then so you knew it was about time to leave for the diner which was only five minutes away from your house — you lived in a small town.

you get in the car with your best friend annie, start the ignition, pull out of your driveway, and start driving to the diner.

“im so excited it’s been forever since we all hung out!” annie squealed with excitement as you made the final turn into the parking lot. as soon as you pulled in, you noticed about three boys leaning on one of the cars and two girls.

you squinted your eyes to get a better look at them.

one of them your friend harry — friend kind of a loose term. the other two, annie’s boyfriend ethan who was your best friend, and this kid named adam who recently started hanging out with them — the two girls unrecognizable.

you pulled into a parking space quickly before turning off the ignition “who are they?” annie asked confused. they were dressed in shorts skirts, one with a black crop top, and the other with a pink one.

“i don’t know. i’ve never seen them around here, like ever.” you pondered. “maybe friends of theirs? they didn’t say they were bringing anyone though.

you both got out of the car to survey what was going on. “the one in the pink is getting a little too close to ethan for my liking.” annie’s voice laced with jealousy spoke up.

“trust me, ethan’s loyal. he wouldn’t do anything, not even as much as look at them the wrong way.” you reassured her. ethan and you were best friends for a little longer than you and harry were. although you didn’t think you’d call you and harry, the best of friends …

“finally, one minute late.” ethan glances at his watch while pulling annie’s hand towards him and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“loosen up.” you rolled your eyes and turned to the two girls. “hi, im yn.” you smiled only to got a weird look in return.

okay…

“and no hi’s or hellos?” harry spoke, with his eyebrows raised.

“not for you.” you said with fake enthusiasm. “we going in or not? annie and i are starving.”

they agreed and by they — only harry, ethan, and adam. you walked inside the diner and were met with only a group of guys sat at one of the booths.

you recognized mostly all of them as they did go to your high school. you walked passed them as they subtly whispered things that you didn’t bother to decipher. you turned around and saw annie, ethan, harry, and adam following you along with the two girls.

one of them was starting to look familiar in the better lighting but you didn’t know for sure who exactly they were.

you sat down on one side of the booth as annie and ethan sat on the other side. harry usually sat next to you but one of the girls took his spot and made him sit next to her in between her and the other girl.

you shifted uncomfortably causing annie to give you a look of concern.

“so, what are your names?” annie spoke up. ethan’s hand was over her shoulder as she leaned up against him.

“natasha. this is johanna.” she dismissively said, continuing to make conversation with harry. what a bitch. wait…

johanna.

oh my god.

“johanna? didn’t you go to camp with us?” you questioned her as she turned to look at you with a look of annoyance etched on her face.

“yeah…and?” she replied steely before turning back to harry giggling. she blushes at something he says and strokes his shoulder and brushes back his hair. what the fuck was going one

you wondered if she knew that just last week you were pulling on that same head of hair while he fucked you senseless — let’s not.

“yn, i think that guys eyeing you.” annie’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. you turned around and saw ivan looking at you. ivan was one of the most good looking guys at your high school. huge ego but he can be sweet when he wants to be.

“he looks like he wants to talk to you.” annie winks and you roll my eyes. “go put on a song. maybe he’ll make a move.” she giggled and hands you a few quarters.

“annie…i don’t know.” you blushed looking downwards. sure ivan is cute…. you looked up to see harry’s response only to see he was occupied at the moment with his new girlfriend johanna.

“yn just go and see.” annie cuts off your stare johanna and harry encouraging you. you used your peripheral vision to see harry staring your way. by then, you knew what choice you were going to make.

you smiled knowingly. “fine.” you faked being annoyed as you mumbled excuse me so you can exit the booth.

you successfully got out and walked toward the music player. while you faked looking for a song you felt a presence and a tap. ivan.

“hi.” his seductive yet shy voice spoke.

“oh hey ivan, what’s up?” you pretended to be unfazed while on the inside you were dying to look at harry’s face.

“i ust … well i just wanted to say that um you look really nice today.’ he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. his cheeked were flushed and you could tell he indeed did feel a bit nervous.

you turned finally looking at him. “thank you, that means a lot.” you flirtatiously smiled, pressing your lips together a faint blush rising up on your cheeks.

“i was wondering … could i possibly get your number.” he asked and you had to admit you were kind of surprised.

your eyes widened but you recovered quickly not wanting to make it seem like you were freaking out — even if you were in the inside. “sure why not.” you laughed taking out your phone and reading your phone number to him.

“great. uhh…so can i text you?” he asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

you nodded and put your hand on his shoulder. “of course, i’m definitely looking forward to it.”

he smiled and nodded saying goodbye while walking back towards his table. you turned your head towards your own table and met the eyes of a glaring and very jealous harry.

fantastic. you thought.

you got home about an hour ago. you showered, did your hygiene stuff, did some homework and now you were in bed watching youtube about to fall asleep.

beforee you were about to turn off the tv though, you heard the doorbell ring.

yoy were just going to leave it until you remembered your parents weren’t going to be home till tomorrow evening. maybe it was them home early?

you scurried downstairs and looked at the bat that was beside the bench in the entrance hall of your house. you looked through the peep hole and noticed…harry?

you opened the door. “what are you doing here?”

he chuckled and walked inside letting himself in. “close the door. it’s freezing.” he shivered, rubbing his hands together.

you rolled your eyes and closed the door. you were about to turn around and question him again but he was already heading upstairs.

you followed him and went into your room. he kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket and pants leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers and jumped into your bed under the covers.

“harry? were you supposed to come over today because i don’t remember that conversation—” you started but got cut off almost immediately.

“so… you going out with ivan?” he began, eyes focused on the tv.

so that’s what this is about.

“so you going out with johanna.” You countered, hands on your hips not about to let him out this on youz

he laughed. “who said i was going out with johanna?”

“and who said i was going out with ivan?” you continued on. you knew he was bound to get annoyed. it was fun pushing his buttons. you crawled back on top of the bed turning off your lamp so that the only light was the one illuminating from the television.

“hm, seemed like you were into him.” he spits and you could hear the jealousy in his voice.

“i was, why do you care?” you shrug starting to lay down comfortably.

all of a sudden, he turns and gets on top of you grabbing both hands and pinning them above your head. “because…you’re mine, okay? don’t want you fooling around with any of those stupid boys.”

this went from 0 to 100 real quick.

“but i’m not yours.” you smiled tugging one of your hands from under his and going to reach his silky hair brushing it back. “you wouldn’t do shit. even if you found out that just before i got home today I was fucking him.” you loved to tease him because he was so easy to tease. you both knew you wouldn’t let anyone touch you but him. though, somehow the things you said got to him.

“yeah?” he challenges causing your stomach starts doing jumping jacks. you felt him trail his free hand down towards your lacy underwear. you knew where this was going and you were so glad your parents weren’t home. “all wet just for me right?” he asked almost eliciting the tiniest moan but no, you wanted to tease him a bit more.

“not really. i was just thinking of how ivan’s fingers felt deep inside me. touching that spot you could never hit right.” you smiled looking down at his hand.

that bothered him a little.

“really…” he trailed raising his eyebrows. you felt his fingers touch your clit automatically rubbing it slowly and gently.

“oh god.” you clenched your eyes shut. don’t. don’t show him how good this feels. “oh… you’re almost there. i almost felt something—” you tried teasing but got cut off by your own moan.

damn him for being good at this.

“c’mon baby, you know you got a soft spot just for me.” he continued his attack on your clit. you already felt like you were going to cum.

“i really don’t.” you dismissed propping yourself on your elbows so you could get closer to his face.

he pushed his lips on yours harshly for a few seconds before pulling away. “so if i stopped right now you would be okay?” he challenged.

no.

“yeah.” you responded breathlessly and he immediately pulled his hand away from your clit. “wait...” you paused, conflicted with what you were going to do. fuck.

“fine. get yourself off.” he smiles lying back on the other side of the bed.

don’t. don’t do it. be stronger.

“please.” you whimpered.

“please what?” he licked his lips. he was loving this. you failed at trying to tease him. you didn’t care if this boosted his ego. you needed him.

“make me cum.” you begged and he immediately turned back over and kissed your lips, then your cheeks, then neck, chest, all the way down to your inner thighs.

“you sure you want me too?” he continuously peppers your thighs with kisses.

“yes.” you begged. you spread your thighs wider to give him more access. you were getting more wet every second he was taunting you.

“mmm, look at you all hot and bothered.” he tutted. “want me to help you baby?” he pouted earning a desperate nod in response.

“words baby.” he prolonged the wait, needing to hear verbal communication from you.

“yes. yes harry. help me please. i’m so wet for you i need you to touch me.” you begged him earning a chuckle before licking a stripe up your clit going in for it. your eyes fluttered closed focusing on the sensation that was overcoming your body.

“taste so good. fuck — i always love the way you taste.” he groaned up against your pussy; the vibrations adding onto the feeling.

you grab onto his head tugging on his hair. he moaned against your clit causing your hips to buck up.

“do that again.” he begged you, hands sternly gripping your thighs. you tugged onto his head of hair again, harder this time.

“look at me.” he groaned. you looked down and made intense eye contact. you noticed him rubbing himself up against the end of the mattress. you moved your eyes to watch him as he continues his attack on your clit. his tongue exploring everything. “you almost there baby?”

“yeah…fuck your tongue feels so good.” you swore almost reaching your peak. “gonna cum h — fuck…” you moaned.

“don’t.” he demanded. “don’t come.” you whimpered, feeling that tightness in your abdomen starting to feel uncomfortable.

“can’t — harry please i need to cum.” you pleaded with him, taking a gasp of air trying to take a deep breath.

he stopped his actions all together putting a wall in between you and that peak you were finally reaching.

“no, please. harry. i was almost there.” you bucked your hips towards him again but all he did was push your hips back down. tears welled up in your eyes at that blinding discomfort.

“how bad do you want to cum?” he asked rubbing your thighs up and down, a slight teasing pout rested on his lips.

“so bad. so so bad.” you whimpered squirming under his touch.

his fingers make their way towards your entrance rubbing it and pushing his finger in half way in a teasing way.

“so so wet. embarrassing really. how wet you get just by me licking you all up.” he smiled. he circled his fingers in your arousal bringing it up and lathering you clit with it causing your head to lull back.

you needed to cum so bad the feeling in your stomach starting to simmer. “harry please.” you whisper brushing your sweaty hair back.

“okay, you’ve been a good girl after all haven’t you baby.” he starts to full on finger you at last bringing that feeling in your stomach back up strongly.

he sucked on your clit again and again until you just about felt like you were going to explode.

“fuck. m’gonna cum — fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned and soon enough you were cumming onto his mouth.

after a few seconds of coming down from your high you came back to reality. harry cleaned you up and then laid back down onto the bed beside you. you felt fatigue overcome you quickly. you buried yourself under the blankets and turned off the television.

harry put the covers over you both and pulled you into him. “i have to talk to you about something tomorrow.” he whispered running fingers through your hair.

“why can’t you do it now?” you questioned sleepily.

“it requires your full attention and id prefer you not be half asleep.” he lightheartedly adds.

you pouted, “i’m not half asleep. just exhausted.” you smiled laying on his bare chest.

he sighed before smiling back, not being able to keep his serious demeanor on. “jus’ wanted to ask you something…” he licked his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “wanted to ask if… maybe you’d wanna go out on a date. let me take you out, i mean.”

you let his words sink in not being able to keep a straight face. you sarcastically gasped in response, “oh my, harry styles wants to take me out on a date?” you cheekily said. “i’d love that.” you calmed down.

he rolled his eyes, “shush. tomorrow, m’kay?” he said kissing your forehead.

you nodded sighing in content before letting your eyes flutter close.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[namgyuverse]

Hi, absolutely love your writing style and that you not oversimplify characters.

You wrote before, that Nam-gyu and y/n (I’m not sure if she is even y/n) are fighting fiery and a lot. Could you write about one of those scandals and the behavior of both after it.

It can be your headcanons or a full drabble, you choose. Though I’d love to see replicas of both during the argument and afterwards.

Once again, love your works 💋

addicted to the drama

— pairing: nam-gyu x f!reader — summary: a relationship with someone like nam-gyu isn't easy, or peaceful. far from it, but you're in this shit for the long haul. OR; three fights with nam-gyu and three ways it gets 'resolved.' — warnings: suggestive moments, a littleeeee gross, he's especially gross in the second fight i'm sorry :(, mentions of sex but no crazy explicit smut, 18+, the girls are fightinggg, there's a little fluff in here, nam-gyu is veryyy not nice in the third fight and uses rather mean language, drug use, not proof-read! — word count: 11.3k — a/n: hiiiiii thank you so so much for the request and the kind words omg (seriouslyyy thank you :*)) <333 this is my first time ever doing one, so i hope i didn't stray too far from what you wanted, haha. i think nam-gyu is definitely a petty little shit when it comes to arguments with his s/o and definitely more than a little emotionally constipated. i went ahead and included 3 different fights, all with varying levels of seriousness lolol. i'm sorry it took so long, i got a little carried away LMAO. there's a bunch of my headcanons sprinkled in here ofc, but maybe i'll make a separate headcanons only post in the future TToTT I hope you like it!!! <3

In a bad mood, baby, come work me out.

You don't ask for much. You don't think you do, at least.

A tidy space meant a tidy mind meant a tidy life. It doesn't seem that hard of a concept to grasp. To you.

Nam-gyu's shoes are strewn lazily across the floor in front of you, shoe prints outlined and punctuated by a wetness that traced their path from start to finish. Rain water pools beneath the soles, dripping like a damn crime scene. You let out a deep sigh, swallowing your anger as you hung your jacket on the rack.

Your eyes flick over the apartment, taking a mental note of every offense and sorting them in the framework of your mind as you built your case. A discarded glass of iced tea on the island, half sipped, then forgotten. A stray sock on the floor, far from its home in the laundry bin overflowing with Nam-gyu's unfolded clothes. A cup of ramen with the chopsticks still in it. You step forward, grabbing a box of snacks on the coffee table. It was too light, nothing but cardboard and air as you shook it. Empty. You slam it into the recycling bin with more effort than necessary.

Your anger simmers, about ready to spill over as you push past the door to your bedroom. He's exactly where you knew he'd be, splayed out lazily across the bed in shorts and a loose shirt, one hand pillowing his head while the other gripped his phone.

"Nam-gyu."

He hums in vague acknowledgment, eyes still trained on his phone. You swipe at it, knocking it out of his hand, watching his face bloom with a mix of confusion and anger as it tumbles onto his chest, narrowly missing his face.

He curls his lip. "The hell is your problem?"

"Your shoes."

"My shoes," he responds flatly.

You suck in a breath. "In the middle of the floor. Dripping."

He rolls his eyes at you and puncutates it with a scoff. "My god. You're so dramatic."

You throw your arms out. "Is it that hard to wipe them and put them on the rack?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says. Dismissal. "I'll do it later, relax."

"You will not do it later."

He exhales, a hand dragging down his face like you're the one exhausting him. "Shit, you're so uptight sometimes. It's just a little mess."

You scoff. "A little mess that you leave sitting there for days!"

He grunts, the only sign that he heard you, before turning over onto his side to unlock his phone again.

Your eye twitches.

Fine.

The next morning, you don't put your makeup away after getting ready for work. Your cups populate the apartment, gathering on every surface like a small village. Your jackets find homes on the couch, the floor, the backs of the few chairs you two had. A stray sock joins his on the ground. Then a shirt. A pair of underwear. Fuck it. You add another sock for good measure.

It only takes two days for Nam-gyu to break. He catches you on the way to the bathroom, his hand digging into your waist as he whips you around, interrupting your plans to continue building the ongoing crime scene of makeup in the sink.

"Cut it the fuck out."

You smile. "I don't know what you mean."

He narrows his eyes, jaw clenching. "Oh my god, you're insane. I get it, okay? Fuck." His hand goes up to rub at his temples for a moment before dragging slowly down his face in defeat.

He points past you at the bathroom sink surrounded in puffs of eyeshadow and smears of foundation. "Deal with... that. I'll get the rest of it."

You stand there, biting back a smile as he lets out an exasperated sigh, pushing up his sleeves and tucking his bangs behind his ears before leaning down to tackle the mess—half you and half him. You're about to tease him when his eyes zero in on something on the ground. He picks it up with a smirk, holding it up in the air in front of you. It's your underwear.

"Honestly?" He looks away from you for a moment, his eyes dragging over it for too long, as if inspecting every twist of the lace. "I don't really mind if you keep leaving these around." He raises his eyebrows at you as a grin stretches across his face. You roll your eyes with a disgusted scoff, but you don't care, not really.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but you're already shutting the bathroom door behind you with a click.

You lean against the sink, hands gripping the cool marble as you let out a sigh of relief. Victory.

---

The next time you fight, it's under the pretense of something fun. You'd complained about how little time the two of you had spent together in the past week. Every time you were home, he was at work. Every time he was home, you were at work— or too exhausted from said work to do anything.

So he proposed a compromise. A night out together at the nightclub, he'd said. A nice way to spend time with each other even when he was on the clock. Like 'take your kid to work' day, except the 'kid' was his annoyed girlfriend. And the 'work' was a shady nightclub filled with too many loud, intoxicated people. And the 'day' was actually a night choking on smoke and sweat and too much noise that stretched way too long, like a guest overstaying their welcome.

You lean against Nam-gyu, staring out into the crowd of people as he tangles in conversation with another one of the club's regular VIPs. You found your head spinning from the revolving door of people that he'd spoken to all night. You wonder how someone as naturally introverted and—rough as him could stand this job.

You listen in, attention flitting in and out as they spoke. He says something so out of character that it catches you off guard. You let out an amused puff of air. He's too animated, too bubbly, too eager to please people that barely know his name. For what it was worth, he was certainly one hell of an actor. Anything to get the guests—and the drugs—coming over and over again, you suppose.

It's not long before you feel his warmth inch away from your body. An alarm. You look up, and his hands are already on your shoulders, rubbing quickly up and down in a way that signals 'hey, I'm about to do something that you probably don't want me to do, but I'm gonna do it anyways'. Your mouth is already opening to complain, but he beats you to it.

"I'm gonna step out for a second, okay?" He's not looking at you. He leans in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "This guy is offering me some good shit. Gotta take it. He's real important."

He brushes the ghost of a kiss to the back of your head, no doubt an attempt to placate your already building annoyance, but it barely registers. His hands pick up speed on your shoulders, rubbing the last bit of warmth into you before he's pulling away, smiling with enthusiasm as he leaves to pump more chemicals into his body.

You let your head tip back as your eyes shut. Nam-gyu never ceases to amaze you with just how many bad decisions he can make in one night. The air around you hums with music, closing in on your little spot by the bar. You drum your fingers against the counter, trying and failing to convince yourself that you're having fun.

You're about to stand—go outside to get some air maybe—when someone slips into the seat behind you, filling Nam-gyu's spot.

"Hey."

You startle a bit, not expecting the sudden conversation.

It's a man dressed in all black, a silver chain glinting against his collarbone. He smells like smoke and beer. Based on his attire, it's not hard to deduce that this is one of Nam-gyu's coworkers, another promoter, you were sure.

You nod at him politely, not really sure what to expect but not wanting to be rude, either. It'd be best not to cause problems with anyone working alongside your boyfriend, you figure. "Hello."

He's nice enough, asking you about how your night was going, what other clubs you'd been to, what kind of drinks you like.

Your face softens into a smile as the conversation continues, your initial suspicion simmering down and settling into something resembling ease as you realize he's just another guy on the clock doing his job: promoting the club.

He leans over, taking his phone out to show you something, and that's when you notice just how close he'd gotten to you since he sat down. You inch away slightly but still listen politely as he pitches one of the club's themed parties.

You nod your head with a vague interest as he scrolls through his photo gallery. Although you were never much into clubbing, you could admit that some of the events looked kind of cool. As he continues going through the photos, one in particular—a Valentine's night—catches your eye. You lean in, and your shoulders brush at the movement.

"That one's cute," you say, pointing at it as you take in the background details. Pink strobe lights, heart balloons, and rose bouquets. A small smile tugs at your lips as you imagine Nam-gyu in his work outfit, his sleeves rolled up and hair tucked behind his ears, knee-deep in a pile of cutesy, pink decorations. The thought brought some color to your cheeks. You'd have to bring it up to him later. Maybe that would be a more fun night for you to attend with him.

Unbeknowst to you, the man beside you was in the middle of taking your statement the completely wrong way. He raises his eyebrows, studying the pink dusting your cheeks and the way your face focused in on his phone screen. He scoots even closer, testing. When you don't react, he reaches out an arm, slowly draping over you as his hand finds its way to your shoulder. His grip on you is light, not forceful, not trapping, but you still stiffen at the contact.

"You think so?" he says, a smirk on his face. He ducks down so he's eye level with you. Too close. "Hey, if you promise me you'll go to our next one, I'm sure I can get you a discount," he brings his phone up again, tapping quickly until he's at the 'contacts' screen, "here, let me get your number so you can—"

You shrink back sheepishly, realizing that you have to nip this interaction in the bud. He looks at you, confusion written across his face, but he lets his arm fall to his side.

"Uh, sorry—do you know Nam-gyu?" you ask, thinking it was as good a time as any to bring him up.

He raises his eyebrows at the sudden shift in topic. "Nam-gyu...? Yeah. I work with him." A flash of recognition. His eyes widen. "Oh. Shit—are you the girl he came in with?"

You nod, a polite smile returning to your face as the man immediately retracts from you, an apologetic look on his face.

You open your mouth to speak, "Yeah, he's my—" Boyfriend, you try to say, but you're cut off by a rush of hands looping at your waist, tugging you backwards into a tight hold.

The familiar rumble of Nam-gyu's voice fills your ears as he leans over you. You twist around, looking up to see his face, both startled and relieved at his sudden entrance. He's staring down at you lazily through half-lidded eyes, and you can see how blown out his pupils are, even in the dim light. You barely have time to react or make a snarky comment before he's pressing his lips to yours, earning a small noise of surprise.

The kiss is welcome until a hand drifts to your chin, tilting you upwards, deeper, drifting into something that felt a little too intimate to be doing in a public space.

Remembering your audience, you pull away, a gentle hand on his chest acting as a barrier between the two of you. His coworker is looking at the two of you, his expression both sheepish and embarrassed, like he was intruding on something he shouldn't be— and honestly, he kind of was, what with the way Nam-gyu was glowering at him.

He stands up, giving Nam-gyu an apologetic nod as he clears his throat, hands flying to his pockets as he prepares to leave.

Nam-gyu smiles, nodding curtly back at him, but you know him well enough to recognize the tension in his jaw, the ingenuity in his smile. "Hey, man."

"Hey." He looks off to the side and then back again. "My bad, man. I didn't know she—"

"I think I can handle this one from here," Nam-gyu says, cutting him off with a barely disguised edge in his voice. There's a squeeze at your waist, a hand on your shoulder. "You can go find some other chicks to bother, right?" He cocks his head to crowd of people gathered in the center of the club, a small, mocking laugh leaving his lips. "I'm sure one of them will fuck you."

You recoil at his tone—and his gross implication, hand going up to lightly smack at his chest. You wonder if the drugs were cutting off the circulation to his brain.

"Nam-gyu!" you hiss, but he doesn't look at you.

His coworker curls his lip, eyes narrowing. "Jesus, dude. I said my bad. I didn't realize she was with you, alright?" He shook his head, turning around and promptly removing himself from the situation. He shot one last look at the two of you over his shoulder, returning the glare that Nam-gyu was still giving him.

Once his back fully disappears into the crowd, you stand up, knocking Nam-gyu's hands off of you as you fix him with a stare.

"What the hell was that?" you deadpan, arms crossing. "He literally said he was sorry."

"'What the hell was that?'" he mocks, his voice climbing a few octaves to match yours. He snorts, ignoring the frustration coloring your face. "I could ask you the same damn thing." He leans down, a hand drifting to the nape of your neck as he crowds into your personal space. "So. What were you two talking about? You seemed real interested." His tone dips low into something icy, accusatory.

You scoff at him, explaining how the conversation was friendly, how he was unaware of your status as a couple, how he instantly backed off at the first sign that you were uncomfortable—

But Nam-gyu ignores you, his hands travelling over your body until they find a home at your shoulders. He spins you around, and you let him, exhaustion hitting you as you realize that your statements were going in one ear and out the other. He rubs at your arms yet again as he pushes you forward, making you walk with him as he leads you to one of the side rooms—a VIP room, you come to realize.

"C'mon," he says, voice thick with whatever drug he'd just taken, "got s'more guests to entertain in here, and you get to come with me."

You roll your eyes. "Yayyy." You continue to count down the minutes left in his shift, but something told you that he was in the mood to clock in some over time.

The lounge is nice, spacious. It's at least a bit quieter than it is out in the main area, a perk you're somewhat thankful for as you adjust yourself on the couch. The guy from earlier is there too. You'd nodded at him when the two of you entered, small and polite and slightly apologetic. He ignored you, presumably for his own sake. You don't blame him.

The night continues, and you're silent, not really wanting to get in the way or be dragged into the conversation. You lean closer to Nam-gyu, craving his contact despite how annoying he's been. It wasn't exactly easy for you to relax in a room full of supposedly 'very important people' that you didn't know, all smiles and raucous laughter as they smoked and drank and huffed whatever came their way.

You were never the biggest fan of the world your boyfriend operated in, surrounded by substances and fast people with fast money that seemed to move quicker than their minds could make decisions, but it's what you signed up for when you got into a relationship with him, after all.

He's chatting it up with a particularly loud, and—unique-looking guy to his left, two girls practically melted into him at both sides. Goes by 'Thanos', you come to find out. A famous rapper with a lot of status and—from how he was speaking—a whole lot of money. His purple hair draws your attention, making his presence impossible to ignore in the confined space, that and his peculiar way of speaking, puncutated by random bursts of english.

You carefully snake a hand around Nam-gyu's arm, wanting to be closer but not wanting to interrupt. He gives you a small glance before brushing you off, you shoot him a look but then his arm is looping around your waist, pulling you into his side. He adjusts your legs so they're draped over his lap, and you redden, feeling like it was the slightest bit too much.

The others at the table didn't seem to mind, though, too caught up in their own conversations to care about your inner turmoil.

You slowly relax as he returns to his conversation. His hands are warm against you, one resting gently at the small of your back, the other rubbing light circles into the exposed skin of your leg. Nam-gyu was a touchy guy, something that you'd gotten used to in your time together. Always a hand at your shoulder, fingers ghosting against your hip, an arm slung lazily across your lap. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

It was fine at first, a comfort amidst the torturously long shift. His touches were soft, subtle, light, a welcome feeling.

Then, it escalates. He laughs at a particularly stupid joke from Thanos, too loud, too eager. It sounds fake. Whether it was due to the drugs or his desire to get into Thanos' good graces, you weren't sure. Either way, you don't have time to dwell on it before he's pulling you again, closer, until you're on his lap, his arms locking against your middle.

This, you conclude, was most definitely too much. You're quiet for a few moments as Nam-gyu's laughter winds down and Thanos turns to accept a joint from one of his lady-friends, a momentary calm falling over the room with the distraction.

You take the gap in conversation as an opportunity, fidgeting in your spot as you try to inch off of his lap. "Nam-gyu, can I get down?" you whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes blank as a playful smile creeps onto his face, but there's a tinge of something else there.

"What?" He lets out a breathy laugh, raising his eyebrows. His fingers ghost over your waist, your ribs, the slope of your neck. Then, he's tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ears, smiling at you like a lovesick fool. You balk at the attention. He wets his lips before biting down on them. Eyeing you with a sudden razor-sharp focus. His voice comes out even, "You bored of me all of a sudden?"

You stare at him, incredulous. "What is with you right now?" He's not normally like this—touchy, yes, but not this... animated.

Nam-gyu just chews on his cheek, thinking for a moment before ultimately choosing to ignore your question. He pulls you closer until you're flush against his chest, your face burning red with embarrassment as he continues to hold you, his touch skimming dangerously close to indecency. You turn to the side, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. At least he was warm, a silver lining.

Across the table, Nam-gyu locks eyes with his coworker, a silent battle still simmering in the weight of their stares.

This—his performance—was for everyone to see.

For him to see.

It wasn't even about you anymore. Just Nam-gyu's pride, his desire to win, even when no one else was playing the game.

A small misunderstanding, of which an apology had already been issued, it's fairly easy to let go, but Nam-gyu was never a fan of 'easy'.

The night pushes on, as does he. He whispers things you'd deem not very appropriate for company, much closer than necessary as he breathes against your neck, lips skimming the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. You mumble back a response, his fingers toying with the strap of your dress.

His behavior finally comes to a head a few moments later. Everyone at the table is chilled out, seemingly in a haze, likely from the weed and whatever else was spread out on the table. You wonder if it was finally about time for you to shove Nam-gyu in the car and go home.

Then, his hand is on your chin, guiding you to look up at him and fixing you with a stare that lasts a few beats too long, and then he's leaning down, closer, too close, pressing a kiss to your lips that he tries to deepen. It's dizzying, overwhelming, and entirely unlike him. You quickly break the contact, not giving him the opportunity to up the intensity. Not in front of all these people.

Thanos whistles from his seat, long and drawn out. It makes you want to melt into the couch.

Your face is red as you stand, suddenly aware of all the eyes on you.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you say, voice coming out in a flurry as you turn away from him.

Behind you, he meets eyes with his coworker for the last time that night, a cocky, infuriating smirk on his face.

He picks up the jacket that you'd left on the couch, throwing it over his shoulder before tossing a lazy 'goodbye' over his shoulders as he follows you. The performance was over.

The silence on the car ride home is suffocating, the engine humming beneath the tension. The energy shift is palpable—one second he was all over you, whispering into your ear and raking his fingers over every expanse of exposed skin, and then, nothing.

Nam-gyu had sobered up enough to drive, thankfully, because you were in no mood to do so. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm leaning out the window. His posture is lazy, leaning back in his seat with his legs spread out in a way that appears casual, but the way his jaw is set, the tension in his knuckles where he grips the steering wheel, the effort he expends to not meet the stare you're boring into the side of his head—it all betrays him, how he really feels.

His lips are set into a thin, irritated line as he drives. His eyes flick to the radio, and his hand leaves the steering wheel for a moment as he turns it on, upbeat pop music filling the car but doing little to mask the fact that he was simmering, barely keeping his temper in check.

You ran out of patience from waiting for him to speak first. "So. You done being weird now?"

Nothing.

"Nam-gyu."

Still nothing.

You let out a small huff that trails off into a laugh. "Wow. So you can run your mouth all night, but now all of a sudden you're quiet?"

His fingers tighten on the steering wheel at that, his pointer finger twitching as he taps against it, the subtle clinking of his ring against the wheel queueing you in to how close you were to getting a reaction.

You roll your eyes. "You're such a fucking child, sometimes. You know that?"

"Shut up."

Your eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"I said," he hisses, eyes narrowing as his grip on the wheel tightens, "shut up." There's something in his voice that makes you listen. It's low, firm, clipped in a way that tells you he's barely keeping himself from snapping.

You study him, taking note of the way he bites at his lip, the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows hard, and the way his hand flexes against its resting spot by the window.

You huff, turning to face the window and mirroring his posture.

Fine.

Soon, he's shifting the car into park, but he doesn't move. Doesn't turn off the engine.

Just sits there.

You don't turn around to face him. He doesn't ask you to, either.

The low rumble is the only sound between the two of you.

You didn't want to be the first one out of the car, and clearly, he didn't want to be either. It was like you two were in a standoff—a childish, petty standoff.

The silence is pointed, buzzing under the weight of all the things you weren't saying to each other. He lets out a sharp exhale, and you feel his stare on the back of his head. You refuse to turn around, refuse to give him the satisfaction.

You feel it, the way he's sitting there waiting for you to break the silence, as if this was somehow your fault and it was your responsibility to rectify it—waiting for you to sigh and grab his hand or say something snarky to give him an excuse to argue with you. It doesn't come.

He's the first to break, clearly tired from his shift, not to mention hungry for something to put in his body other than drugs ands cheap beer. He lets out a scoff before finally shifting the key in the ignition, shutting off the comforting thrum of the engine. He throws his door open, slamming it behind him as he fishes the apartment keys out of his pocket, not sparing you a glance as he walks towards the building.

You roll your eyes as you follow him, not like you had much choice.

The apartment is dim when you step inside, the only light coming from the fridge where Nam-gyu is standing, his body haloed in white as he pulls out a few snacks.

You flick on the light, ruining the dramatic environment he was building. You hang up your jacket and kick off your shoes, shutting the door behind you with a click as you fix him with a stare.

He turns, popping a few bites of something in his mouth before he leans against the counter, not meeting your eyes and instead staring at the wall across from him as if it had somehow become the most interesting thing in the world.

You suck in a breath, a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion swirling inside you. In all honesty, you just want to go the fuck to sleep.

"Nam-gyu."

Nothing.

Fuck, you hated this. Hated when he clammed up and backed himself into a corner, turning his nose up at you and forcing you to drag the issue out of him like you were pulling teeth, like he was a damn child. Because why would he ever just tell you what the problem was so you two could talk it out? That'd be way too easy for the both of you.

You drag a hand down your face, pushing past him and moving towards the bedroom, your patience running extremely, extremely thin.

"Jesus, you're exhausting."

His lip twitches at that. "What, running away again?" he says, voice indignant as he steps in front of you, cutting you off.

"Ohhh." You throw your hands up at him, a mocking smirk on your face. "Now you wanna talk."

He closes in on you, so close that you can smell the smoke and chemicals still clinging to his clothes. He looks like he's going to speak, but he doesn't, just presses his lips into a tight, thin line, his expression laced with irritation.

You roll your eyes at the silence. He has no room to talk, and you know it. He knows it too, clear in the way he won't open his mouth.

"If you're gonna throw a temper tantrum every time a guy speaks to me, go ahead. Just leave me out of it." You step back from him, finding your way to the couch. If he wants to act like a dick, fine. Let him.

"I threw a tantrum?" he says, voice laced with something icy as his jaw ticks.

"Yes, Nam-gyu," you say, voice going high as if you were speaking to a child, "a whole fucking scene, actually."

He watches you with silent anger as you fluff up the couch pillows.

You hear a snort behind you. "Oh, sleeping on the couch, huh? Cute."

"Better than sleeping next to you right now."

A beat of silence.

Then— "Fine. Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want."

He stomps into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

You stare down at your lap, brows furrowed in anger as you gave yourself a moment to calm down. Then, it dawned on you that you were still in the dress you'd worn to the club with makeup still on your face, the only change of clothes being in the room now occupied by your angry boyfriend.

Dammit. You lay against the couch. It's too lumpy. Too cold, without your thick blanket and Nam-gyu's shared body heat. The dress is tight against your skin.

Still, you lay there for a good ten minutes, refusing to fold.

When your efforts to wait him out prove to be fruitless, you let your eyes flutter shut with a sigh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction but knowing that there was no way you were going to get a good night's sleep out here.

Reluctantly, you get to your feet and shuffle quietly to the bedroom door. You linger there for a moment, steeling yourself.

Behind the door, Nam-gyu is laying in bed, clad in only his boxers as he stares up at the ceiling in the dark, his arms crossed over his chest as he drums his fingers anxiously, angrily, against his skin. His work clothes sat in a crumpled heap by the laundry basket, taken off and dumped in a flurry as he waited for you, refusing to get ready for bed before you cut the act and gave in, like you always did. He knew you'd kill him if you found out he'd laid on the bed with outside clothes.

He reaches over to his phone on the night stand, quickly clicking it on before shutting it off again.

Ten minutes. Fuck. How long were you gonna keep this up for?

His body twitches in reluctant defeat, and he's about to get up, swallow his pride to scoop you up from the couch and drag you into bed so he could get some goddamn sleep—but the sound of the door creaking open saves him. He swallows, body going still against the bed as you step inside.

A wave of relief washes through him, and he exhales like he's been holding his breath since the two of you had stepped foot in the car. He quickly recovers, though, a smug expression replacing his initial relief, hiding the fact that he was waiting for you.

You slink across the floor, refusing to make eye contact with him as you push the closet open and search for your pajamas.

"Oh, look who it is," he laughs, propping himself up on his elbows. "Miss me already, huh?"

You don't respond, eyes narrowing as you stack your clothes in a pile next to you. After gathering everything, you stand up and make your way towards the door without shooting him a glance.

You pause, curling your lip as the smell of the nightclub reaches your nose.

"You stink. At least have the decency to shower after the club before you roll around in our bed."

His expression sours behind you as you make your way out.

You shower quickly, half convinced if you took too long that Nam-gyu was going to bust in and try to argue with you again. You dry your hair, pull on your pajamas, and brush your teeth. When you open the door, he's there, sitting on the couch in his boxers. He doesn't look at you as he gets up, nudging you with his shoulder as he makes his way inside.

"Took you long enough," he scoffs.

You roll your eyes.

His shower is quick, rushed. When the door to the bathroom opens, all the steam escapes. He stands in the doorway with his towel clinging loosely to his hips, hair dripping as he shuts the door behind him, his skin pink from the scorching water.

You quickly still on the couch, shutting your eyes as you pretend to be asleep, trying to play it off like you weren't listening intently, waiting for his shower to be over. Waiting for him to crack so you didn't have to actually spend your night on the damn couch.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment, squinting as he zeros in the outline of your body. Then, you hear the soft pad of his footsteps as he makes his way over, the sliver of light pouring in from the bathroom being his only guide as he towers over you.

"I know your ass isn't asleep," he says, eyes narrowing as he crouches down next to your face.

You don't react. He wets his lips, mind reeling, searching for his next move.

Then, his hands are gently resting on your side. You swallow, holding your breath in anticipation. The heat of his skin prickles against you, still steamy from his shower, the damp scent of his shampoo filling the space between you.

And then—his fingers press into your sides, and he's tickling you.

You yelp, eyes flying open and body jerking violently as his fingers dig into your ribs, mapping over every ticklish spot on your body that he'd come to know in the time you two had been together.

"N-Nam-gyu!" you try to yell at him, but it trails off into shaky laughter, his touch relentless.

You can't hold it in, after all, who could? And then you're a red, laughing mess beneath him, your hands coming out from where they were pillowing your head a few moments prior, trying-- and failing, to get him off of you.

You try to twist away from him, but he follows, grinning now.

"Oh?" he says, his voice mockingly sweet, "I thought you were asleep?"

He clambers on top of you, water dripping from his hair and onto your dry, warm pajamas. You want to yell at him for not drying off completely before he came out, but you can't get it out between your laughter.

He's laughing now, too, his grin growing wider, and this time, there's no venom there, no smug satisfaction, no anger. It's just him and you. Giggling in the almost-darkness on your lumpy couch in your small apartment, tucked away in your own little pocket of the world.

"You—asshole!" But you can't stop laughing, grinning so hard it hurts, despite how badly you wanted to be mad at him. "I hate you!"

He shakes his head, eyes not leaving you for a second. "No, you don't." He smirks, pressing one last ticklish squeeze in your side, before relenting and taking a seat at your legs.

You're breathless, gasping and heart racing, still half-trapped beneath him.

He stares at you for a moment. His grin softens. Yours does, too.

He knows he'd been an asshole this whole night. Knew it before and after the drugs had worn off.

And though he still doesn't say it—I'm sorry—as if his body won't allow him to say it—he leans forward, hair still dripping onto your face, and he nudges his forehead against yours. Just once.

You let out a shaky, exasperated breath, finally able to compose yourself.

Your hand goes up to rest on his bare shoulder, a beat passes, and then you're tugging him gently down, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"You," you say, shutting your eye as a droplet narrowly misses it, "are the biggest fucking baby alive."

He grunts.

You laugh, amused. In that moment, you know you'd won.

"Jealous little freak."

That earns you a huff.

The two of you sit there for a while, coming down from the moment. Once you can no longer stand the water dripping onto you, you shove him off.

"Hurry up and get ready for bed. I'm tired."

There's a ghost of a smile on his face as you push past him and collapse onto the bed.

Soon, he flops down next to you, the bed shifting under his added weight.

Silence.

He turns his head. A beat.

"So. You wanna fuck? Or..."

You exhale sharply through your nose in lieu of a response, rolling over to curl into his chest.

You press a kiss to his jaw as he drapes a hand across your waist, your voice sweet and laced with sleep as you lean into him, breath brushing against the shell of his ear as you whisper, "Go the hell to sleep."

He snorts, and soon, you're both drifting off into your own worlds.

---

The third time, it's not petty, not over a bout of jealousy.

It starts over money.

Of course it does. It always does.

You stand over him, trying to rub away the tension in your temples as he scrolls through his phone, ignoring you like he has all the time in the world.

"Seriously? You spent how much?" Your face is hot. "Are the drugs that good? They have to be, with how much money you throw away over them!"

Nam-gyu doesn't even look up at you. He's slouched, legs spread against the couch as he scoffs. "Why the fuck do you care?"

Your eyes widen. "Why do I— Nam-gyu, are you actually serious right now?"

He exhales sharply, shutting his eyes for a few seconds, as if this wasn't an extremely important and serious conversation. The sight makes your blood boil. He shuts off his phone and tosses it onto the coffee table with a clack.

"Look. I made the money—so I spent the money." He looks up at you then, his expression screaming that he'd rather be anywhere ot her than here. "I don't think it's that hard to understand."

"Yeah? With what fucking rent money, genius?" you spit back, your pulse quickening at his condescending tone.

He narrows his eyes at you, jaw flexing. Dangerous. "I said." He stands, looking down at you now. "I'll handle it." He presses two fingers to your chest, shoving you back lightly, a warning. "Now can you get the fuck off my back?"

You laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Really? When? Before or after the landlord's knocking on our door?" Your voice rises, the anger bubbling in your chest, getting ready to spill over. "Fuck, Nam-gyu! You always do this! Blow through your money—our money—like it's nothing and then act like I'm the problem for calling you out on it!"

"Oh yeah?" he says, stepping closer. His neck is tense. "And you do what? SIt there and bitch at me like you're my fucking mother?"

The words sting, but you don't back down. You open your mouth to fire back, but he's already speaking, practically yelling now.

"I was working. What the hell do you want me to do?"

"Working?" You bark out a laugh, mocking, incredulous. "That's what you call working? Getting fucked up and blowing your money on drugs for people that won't even remember your damn name?"

He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he bites his lip. You're sure he's about to explode. It doesn't scare you.

"It's my job!" he yells, lips curling into a sneer. "What, you think you're an expert on my job now?"

"Your job is to promote the club, not snort half the fucking inventory!"

His face darkens, and something ugly twists in his features. You can't deny the way your hands shake at your sides.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too," you spit back.

The air shifts, the silence hanging between you two heavy and suffocating.

He shakes his head, looking off to the side like you were being ridiculous as he runs a hand through his hair. "You love doing this shit, don't you? Acting like you're so much better than me, like you've got everything figured out." He juts his chin out at you. "I bet you were just waiting for a reason to fucking lecture me again, huh?"

"Oh my god, Nam-gyu, this isn't about me. This is about your reckless spending habits—"

"And there it is! It's always my fault, isn't it? I'm always the villain, the big, bad piece of shit ruining your life. A screw-up that you have to fix." He smirks. "Go ahead. Call me a screw-up. I know you fucking want to."

You groan. "Do you hear yourself right now? I've never called you a screw-up! That's all in your head."

"Oh, yeah, but you sure as hell think it," he sneers, taking a step towards you. You don't move, determined to stand your ground. "You're always talking down to me like I'm an idiot. Like i'm just some loser that you have to babysit, because you're such a saint for putting up with someone like me." His eyes flash with anger. "You just wanna control me."

"Oh?" you huff, eyes narrowing. "So that's what this is about? Your ego?" Nam-gyu's jaw flexes at that, daring you to continue. "I don't wanna control you, Nam-gyu! I want to build a life with you! But you just keep sabatoging yourself—blowing through our savings on useless shit and poisoning your body while I try to save you!"

He laughs, a bitter, hollow sound. "I knew it!" He turns around and walks away from you, hands going up to tug at his hair as he paces across the floor. "You're just like every other bitch I've ever met. Always running your fucking mouth—acting like you know better. Acting like I need to be saved."

Your anger comes to a head, simmering and simmering until it was at the edge, just about ready to boil over. You step forward, cutting him off. "Maybe because you fucking do!"

He pauses, his face going blank as he stares at you. For a second—just a second—he looks wounded. Like you'd slapped him.

Then— "Oh, fuck off." He spits the words out like it's poison, hands falling from their place in his hair and leaving it a tousled mess. "You wanna 'save' me? What are you, my fucking mother?" His fingers twitch at his side. Then he scoffs, shaking his head at you, and a bitter smile stretches across his face. "No. You're not like my mom. You're worse. At least she knew when to shut the fuck up."

That did it.

Your anger boils over finally, coursing through every vein and artery until your body moves faster than you can think.

You slap him.

The sound cracks through the apartment like a gunshot.

He stumbles back, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock. He says nothing as he brings a hand up to his cheek, fingers pressing against the red mark blooming against his cheek. He's quiet for a moment.

Then: a laugh. Sharp and cold, slashing through the silence.

"Oh. Hah. There she is." He grins, but his eyes are wild. "The real you. The one who pretends to be so mature and understanding, but the second I hit a nerve, you turn into a hysterical, emotional bitch."

Your heart is slamming against your ribs now, and there's something hot pushing behind your eyes.

"I hate you." Your voice was shaking.

He doesn't flinch, just stands there, staring at you, but his fingers twitch, something cold taking form in his chest like a stone.

"Good." His voice is low, cold. Fake. "Then why the fuck are you still here?"

Something inside you snaps. Because underneath all the anger, you can hear what he's really saying.

Why haven't you left me yet?

But you're too furious to give him the reassurance you know he desperately wants—the reassurance he's waiting for with bated breath and clenched fists.

You won't give him the satisfaction.

You push past him, throwing the door open to the bedroom, one hand grabbing frantically at your clothes, the other clumsily fishing in your pocket for your phone. He follows you, suddenly silent.

You hear his breathing from the doorway. Heavy. Unsteady. Panicked. You pretend not to notice.

You dial your best friend, quickly bringing it up to your ear to hide the screen from Nam-gyu, hands trembling with anger.

"Hey," you say as soon as your friend picks up, voice shaking, "can you come get me?"

Nam-gyu's blood runs cold, something icy snaking through him and squeezing his chest like a vice.

Despite it all, he still finds a way to be an ass, another sharp laugh clawing its way out of his throat. "You're serious? That's all it takes?" He steps forward, his indifference betrayed by his breathing, fast and raggedy. "What, been waiting for an opportunity to finally be rid of me, you whore?"

You turn to face him, your hands going still as you lock eyes with him, eyes burning.

"You don't mean that." Your voice comes out so, so small.

Nam-gyu's breath stutters, disarmed by the way you're looking at him.

You see his face rewind before you, and for a second, he's the boy you met back in university. Vulnerable, unsure, timid, scared—and you saw it. A flicker of panic and regret across his face, knowing he'd pushed it the slightest bit too far. Knowing you were at the edge. It was up to him to pull you back.

And for a second, you really believe it. That he will.

But then—

Ego.

His pride.

His biggest fucking downfall.

"Nah," he scoffs, looking away as he feigns indifference. "I meant every word."

Your stomach twists. You grab your bag and pull yourself to your feet. You won't cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

He turns around, leaning against the doorframe and forcing you to watch his back while his face goes slack, teeth grit behind his lips as he holds his breath. "So. Are you leaving, or not?"

You push past him, bag in hand as you make your way to the door. He follows you, watching as you pull on your coat. He doesn't reach for you, doesn't stop you. His expression doesn't change, but the way his throat bobs—the way his hands shake despite his best efforts to hide them in his pockets—it tells you everything.

And this time, you don't have it in you to read between the lines, to decipher the stupid act he's putting up. All because he can't be an adult and say what he really means.

You grab your bag from the floor, a ding popping up on your phone: a text from your friend saying that she was outside.

Your hand is resting on the door knob, twisting, when his voice comes out—low, cracking.

"You're really gonna do this?"

You don't look at him. Just push through and slam the door shut.

He doesn't follow.

And just like that, Nam-gyu was alone. He lets out a shaky breath that he forgot he was holding, gripping at his sides like it would keep him from falling apart.

Suddenly, despite your absence, everything is much too loud. Louder than before. The hum of the refrigerator. The buzz of the wiring in the walls. The padding of his footsteps against the hardwood as he threw himself onto the couch, his legs suddenly too shaky for him to stand.

"Whatever," he says to the oppressive silence. "She'll be back." His voice cracks, unsure. Like he doesn't even believe the words as he's saying them.

Tension crawls up his back, settling into his limbs like a concrete block. He sits there for longer than he should've, an invisible weight pushing down on his shoulders. He won't say it, but he's waiting for you.

You don't come back that night.

The next day passes by him in a blur, thick with alcohol and chemicals. He's in the bedroom, his phone on the floor next to him. He pushes his palms against his temples, quick gasps burning his lungs.

His fingers twitch, exhausted with the effort of keeping still, but he won't do it. He won't text you. Won't call you. He won't let himself. His heart pounds craters into his chest as he sucks in a deep, labored breath.

His own words from the day before echo in his head. He'd wanted to push you, break you down, make you feel as small as he did. And it worked.

And now?

Now you were gone.

It was fine. It was fine. He pulls himself to his feet, something icy creeping up his spine. Nothing some weed couldn't fix.

As he stumbles to his feet, he catches himself wishing that he'd been scheduled for work today. Something to distract him. The thought makes him laugh, hollow and flat.

His hands shake as he struggles with his lighter, trying and failing to get a flame. He curses, arms dropping to his sides as he leans against the couch. Fuck this.

He slides down the couch until he's spilling onto the floor in a heap. There's something hot and wet pushing behind his eyes now, betraying him as it finally falls. He swipes at his face, biting back the frail noises threatening to spill from his throat. He doesn't want to hear it. His hands make fists in the material of his shirt, and he hardens his jaw, forcing himself to breathe slowly as his mind short circuits.

It was fine.

You'd be back tonight. He was sure of it. He tries the lighter again, and this time, it catches.

You crash at your friend's place. She doesn't ask questions, and you don't offer answers. It wasn't like this was the first time you fled to her house after a fight with Nam-gyu had gone sour. Your friend's guest room was practically yours, at this point.

The bed is comfortable, warm, but it does nothing to calm the threads of anxiety twitching through your limbs. You grab your phone, checking for the fifth time to make sure that it wasn't on silent.

It wasn't, and as you thought, there was nothing new. No text, no call. You let out a puff of air and continue to pretend like you don't care.

A few moments later, you turn over, fumbling for another pillow in the darkness. You hold your breath, lip trembling as you squeeze it tight, biting back your tears. He didn't deserve it. To make you cry.

"Fucking asshole."

Unfortunately for you, he was right.

The next day, you do your best to stay away. Enjoy your friend's company. Calm the images of Nam-gyu's limp body flickering through your mind like a cruel recording on loop.

Then— "I'm sorry," you say, ducking your head at your friend. She pauses the movie the two of you are watching, and she doesn't startle, as if she already knows what you're going to say next. "Could you drive me home?" Your voice is sheepish, embarrassed, as you keep your eyes on the floor.

You can almost hear Nam-gyu's voice. 'How typical. Knew you'd come crawling back.'

Your friend just nods, keeping her thoughts on the matter to yourself. For that, you're thankful.

Soon, you're rounding the corner, fumbling with your keys before finally pushing past the door, betraying yourself yet again.

And he was there, right where you left him.

He’s half-slouched on the ground, his back against the couch as he stares up at the ceiling. He'd shoved the coffee table out of the way to make room for himself. His limbs are outstretched on the floor, loose and lazy. Like a cat, you think. It would've been cute, had it been under different circumstances.

A joint burns low between his pointer finger and thumb, dangling dangerously close to the rug at the foot of the couch. He brings it to his lips and takes a long drag. A stray piece of ash falls from the end and burns black into the plush fabric. A permanent stain. A reminder.

The room reeks of weed, a cloud of smoke floating lazily around the ceiling in a slow-motion circuit. The smell curls in your lungs like the argument still lingering between you. You don’t even care.

He didn't look at you when the door opened. Not when the door shut. Not when you cover your nose and mouth with your sleeve, quickly throwing the window open and ushering the hazy cloud outside as if it had the agency to listen.

He doesn’t blink when you come to a stop at his feet, your shadow falling over him like a blanket. He continues to stare up at the water stained ceiling, regarding it with a calm indifference, like a painting he couldn’t understand.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in every inch of his sorry state. He’s in the same clothes you last saw him in, shirt wrinkled and pants twisted low on his hips. His hair stuck out oddly like he’d just woken up from a nap. His eyes are red and swollen, but you know it’s not just from the weed. He barely acknowleges you, save for a lazy flick of his eyes.

You kneel next to him and and press a palm to the warmth of his chest. His face is blank, even, his mouth pressed into a thin line, but his heartbeat betrays him, hammering beneath your fingers like it was trying to get out. A bird making panicked circles on the floor of an open cage.

He lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s weak and tired, bordering on something desperate.

"You stink," you mutter.

Nam-gyu lets out a humorless snort. "Then leave." But he doesn't mean it, not really. His heart quickens beneath your fingers, no doubt scared that you actually might.

But you don't. Instead, you pluck the joint from his fingers and stub it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

He blows smoke into your face. You don’t blink.

Your fist closes around the fabric of his shirt just above his heart, the soft cotton spilling out between the gaps of your fingers as you clamber on top of him.

He doesn’t react. Doesn’t meet your eyes. You lean down, tilting your head forward so that your foreheads touch. Your hair falls from behind your shoulders, draping over the two of you in a gentle curtain.

The smell of weed is thick as you press a kiss to his cheek. Your free hand comes up to cup his face, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly before straying to the nape of his neck. His lips part weakly, as if he's going to say something snarky, something mean, to remind you of the other day.

Your breath is hot against the shell of his ear as you speak, voice barely above a whisper, “Just... Shut up, okay?” You press another kiss to the top of his forehead, pleading. Soon, your face finds its home in the crook of his neck. You breathe him in, the smell of his skin grounding you, still managing to reach you through the haze of smoke and chemicals. "Please."

And for the first time in a while, he listens.

Nam-gyu says nothing. Not when your fingers comb through his mess of hair. Not when you're tugging his limp body up, up, pushing him—stumbling and dazed—into the shower. Not when you're peeling off his clothes and yours, switching on the faucet and rubbing circles of soap onto the gentle slope of his back as the shower fills with steam.

He won't tell you how much he appreciates it. He won't tell you a lot of things.

He's quiet as he pulls on his pajamas and sinks into the bed like a stone. Relief washes through him as the bed shifts beneath your added weight. His shoulders ease up for the first time since you'd left, though he won't tell you that, either.

The next morning passes like any other. There is no sorry. No kisses pressed to your neck or hands looped around your waist. You weren't expecting it, anyways. You don't dwell on it. Not like you had the time, to. Instead, you roll out of bed, shake the sleep from your body, pull your work clothes on, and start your day.

Later that day, when your key clicks in the lock and your legs cross the threshold, the apartment smells different.

Not weed, not chemicals, not the lingering smell of smoke.

Your eyes trail across the apartment, taking note of everything. The counters are wiped down, the floors swept. Even the clutter that usually lingered around—his clothes, empty bottles, dirty dishes—gone.

You raise your eyebrows as you hang the jacket by the door.

You lean against the counter, unable to keep the look of pure surprise off of your face as you watch his back. Nam-gyu is cooking, a novelty from when you two first got together. Before he'd sunk deeper into his drug habit.

"What's this?"

He doesn't look at you. "Food."

"Wow," you press, testing. He looks at you over his shoulder before turning back to the pot on the stove. "You? Cooking?" You lean in closer, trying to catch his eyes. "Am I dreaming right now?"

He shrugs, stirring the pot. "You always bitch about me eating. So I'm eating."

You purse your lips, deciding not to comment on his wording.

You can't remember the last time he'd cooked. It was always you. Or takeout. Or you reminding him to eat, that drugs and alcohol weren't enough to make up a healthy diet.

He flicks the stove off and grabs a plate from the cabinet, wordlessly spooning a scoop of freshly cooked rice onto the plate, still steaming. He shoves it into your hands before grabbing another plate for himself. He moves out of the way, gesturing at the pot like it'd inconvenienced him.

"It's still hot," he says blankly. His voice is tight, clipped, but you know it's just his way of masking his nerves. Tiptoeing around you like one wrong word might send you flying out the door again. "Now shut up and eat."

The food was delicous.

It tasted like nostalgia, bringing you back to the early days where he'd always cook for you, butterflies blooming in your stomach as your legs bumped against each other under the table, flirting under the warm kitchen light.

Back when his job was just a job. A 'for now'. Before it tangled and spiraled with his being, melting into him until you weren't sure where it ended and he began, the fuel for his fire, stoking his addictions and anger and insecurities until it grew big and ugly and distorted.

The thought made your chest tighten a bit, so you push it out of your mind, hands readjusting in your lap as you refocus on the movie playing in front of you.

The two of you sit on the couch, the glow of the TV flickering dimly across the walls.

Nam-gyu is beside you, sprawled as usual, his legs spread wide and taking up an offensive amount of space. His fingers drum absentmindedly against his knee, his other hand fidgeting with his ring. He hasn't reached for you all night, but every now and then, you feel his eyes flick toward you.

Like he was waiting.

And then, without a word, he pushes something into your lap.

You startle a bit at the sudden movement. You look down, and your mouth falls open.

A plushie. It's a chubby, white bunny. Soft and cute.

You wonder when he went to the store. You picture him walking up and down the aisles, scanning the shelves and chewing his lip nervously as he decides what to get you. You imagine him checking out, slamming the plushie down on the counter before roughly tapping his card.

Then, you notice the small, black box sitting on its tummy. You almost didn't notice it, blinking down at it in shock.

You pick it up, face incredulous as you turn to him.

"You bought me something?" you say, breathless, as you turn it over in your hands.

He doesn't answer, just keeps his eyes trained on the screen. His leg bounces restlessly, both hands fidgeting with their respective rings.

You sigh, and it's soft, so soft, as something wells up in your chest. "Nam-gyuuu..." you start, leaning towards him.

"Just shut up and take it," he grumbles, still refusing to look at you. "Or don't. I don't care."

You stare at him for a long moment. His ears are pink, just barely hidden behind his long, black hair.

You decide to give him a break and open the box. Inside is a silver chain, dainty, shiny, and exactly your style. It's also real. You lift it out with a gasp.

Nam-gyu doesn't turn his head, but his eyes flick to you for a moment, taking in your reaction. Something in him unclenches.

The pendant hanging off of it is small, but it's beautiful, sturdy. You let it fall against your palm, the silver catching the dim light from the television as you inspect it. It's a star.

You pout, eyes going wide and glossy as you turn to look at him. He exhales sharply. Then, you notice something else in the box, a baggie tucked away in the corner of the velvet lining. You hold it up to the light, trying to see what it is.

It's another star, just as dainty as yours, except somehow smaller.

"Is this an extra one in case I lose mine?" you ask, genuinely curious.

The moment he sees what you're holding, his whole body tenses. His knee stops bouncing, and his fingers freeze. Then, without hesitation, he snatches the bag from your grasp.

"Nothing," he mutters, shoving it deep in his pocket.

You blink. "Did you—" your voice trails off, realization dawning on you. Your heartbeat picks up. "You bought a matching charm?"

Nam-gyu glares at the TV like it'd personally offended him. "Oh my god. I said it's nothing."

You stare at him stunned. He was never the type to do this—sweet, thoughtful things. No, that was too corny for him. And yet he had. He'd gotten two of the same pendant. One for you, and one for himself.

Maybe to add to his own chain. Maybe to turn into a charm for his keyring.

Either way, it meant something. And you knew it.

"Nam-gyuuu," you press, all discretion gone as you cuddled up to his side. You watch his jaw clench as you rub his side, all smiley and starry-eyed. "You wanted us to match?"

"Okay. Shut up." He's tensing up, leaning away from you as he leans into the armrest, but you know for sure that it's all an act now. The plushie at your side and the necklace gleaming on the coffee table was enough proof of that.

But you can't. You can't stop staring at him, at the way his fingers dig into his knee like he's resisting the urge to snatch the whole damn box back from you. He's sulking like a kid caught red-handed.

Your grin widens, head going loopy with love. "Ohhh my goodness," you say, voice dripping with amusement, "you're so cute, Nam-gyu."

His head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing as he finally makes eye contact with you, but there's a color to his face that wasn't there earlier. "Don't start."

But you do start. You lean in, resting your chin on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes at him. "You wanted us to have matching charms? So that even when we're apart, we'll always have a little piece of each other?"

Nam-gyu gorans, tipping his head back against the couch. "Shut the fuck up." But there's no venom in it, not even a drop. Something tells you he might even be enjoying this, in his own way.

"It's like a promise, isn't it?" You sigh dreamily, pushing through the excitement in your chest, but also because you can't help but relish the way he squirms under the attention. "A silent vow that no matter where we go, we'll always be connected. Like two stars floating through space, spinning in a galactic embrace of eternal love—"

"I'm gonna kill myself," he mutters, rubbing his temples. The movie drones on in the background, completely ignored.

You laugh, finally letting up as you nudge him with your shoulder. "You're so romantic," you coo. "Who knew you had such a soft heart under that shitty attitude of yours?"

"I will throw you out that fucking window," he threatens, but it's weak. His ears are red, so red, and he won't meet your gaze.

You let the moment linger, then tilt your head, lowering your voice to something softer. "Thank you," you say, genuine this time. "I love it."

Nam-gyu scoffs, but his knee starts bouncing again. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

But later that night, when you finally slip the necklace on, the bunny plushie sitting gingerly in your lap, you catch him staring.

When you lay down next to Nam-gyu, there's something between you two. Something charged, electric. You don't say anything, but you know it's coming.

When his hand drifts over to you, lingers on your waist, you let it.

Then he's on top of you. His weight presses you into the bed, and you stare back up at him. His touch is soft, gentle, as he brushes the hair away from your face, from your neck. The necklace he bought you is cool against your skin. He stares at it again, touching it gingerly and turning it over in his fingers.

Your breath catches, and then he's leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips. It's gentle, soft.

It's not like him at all.

That night, it's like a race. Except there’s only one pedestal, and it's a spot reserved just for you. So he's grunting, biting down on his lip as he presses his fingers into the dip of your waist, pushing you closer and closer to the finish line. There’s a ghost of his breath on your neck, a graze of teeth at your collar bone, something sickeningly sweet in your ears— something you likely wouldn't be hearing tomorrow.

Then, you reach the edge, and he’s staring in your eyes, gripping your chin so you can’t look away. He dips low and smashes his lips onto yours. The ribbon snaps, and you tip over, breath being ripped from your lungs as you gasp, sighing his name like it's a prayer.

It's been a couple minutes since he'd rolled over, your skin still slick with sweat as you continue to catch your breath, heart drumming steadily beneath your skin.

His hand is heavy on your waist, his breathing steady. He was practically half-asleep already once he'd finished.

"Fine," you breathe into the silence, eyelids growing heavy as you swallow. You push your hair out of your face and roll over to cuddle into his side. Defeat. "I forgive you."

Nam-gyu, even in his exhausted state, smirks weakly in the dark. He slowly turns to press his face into you, rubbing slow, possessive circles into your skin.

He feigns ignorance as he smiles against your hair, because accepting your forgiveness would be an admission of guilt, and he couldn't— wouldn't do that.

"For what?"

© to @namgyunation on tumblr; do not repost

ao3 link, if you'd prefer to read it over there

a/n: omggg i had so much fun writing this! obviously, a lot of this is my interpretation / speculation of how he'd act 'normally', so when he's not crazy hopped up on drugs and locked up in a life or death situation, but hopefully it's somewhat believable. i'm like rushing to get all my writing out before season 3 potentially crushes all my hopes and dreams and imagination and/or my motivation leaaves me haha. although school's still been kicking my ass, as always please feel free to send me any thoughts / suggestions in my inbox <3 i'm in this shit for the long haul, y'all.

[cheolieji]

Roomates - Choi Seungcheol

pairings: idol!scoups x idol!reader

reader has boobs and vag

warnings/genre: smut, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food!!, swearing, pet names, fluff

the sex part is lowkey short cause idk

fuck was said at least 1000 times😨

you are Svts 14th member and have been roommates with seungcheol for a few months now. Nothing has happened yet, but who knows what could happen when two people who like each other drinks together.

mdni!!

don't like, don't read

a/n note: this is my first time writing on tumblr and first time writing in a few years + english isn't my first language so if there's any grammar/any type of mistakes don't be shy to point it out :)

updated a/n: This was a draft from Oct, so, no, It's not my first time writing on tumblr (not anymore). i deleted the previous draft and rewrote the whole thing, lmaoo

my brain stopped working when it went down to the actual smut omg

wanted it to be longer but im lazy

after a long day of shooting content, you and the members were exhausted. some went home, while some went out to eat, but you decided going home was the best idea. and so did seungcheol. and of course, you're going home with him, i mean, who else? you literally live with him

you two were approaching his car as he sped up a little to open the car door for you. You find his speed walking cute. "Thank you! Cheol, " "Of course, go ahead, watch your head"

as he's getting the car started, you asked, "cheol, do you wanna get something to eat before we go home? and maybe some drinks, too?" "Yeah, why not, we haven't drank together in a while, " says as he's putting his seatbelt on

after he bought the food and drinks (he went in to buy them while you were waiting in the car) you arrived home

taking your jackets off and hanging it on the rack, you sighed. "It's been such a long day, ughh i need a drink." "go wash your makeup off. I'll get the table ready.." "fineee"

felling refreshed, you went to help him set the table up. "we bought a lot of food, are we gonna finish it?" "i will, " he says, giving you a goofy smile

after a few shots, you were already tipsy. seungcheol is still completely fine. He's just admiring how you look while you're drunk

cheeks flushed, lips wet from the drink, and those eyes you give him.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" "No reason im just admiring your face." "Why admire from afar when you can come here? " you said, completely aware of what you're saying

"You come here." You walked over to him both hand on his shoulder while straddling his lap. he has his hands on your ass. "So? are you admiring me better now that im this close?" "So much better, babe"

leaning down to kiss him. it starts slow. Now he has his tongue down your throat with his hands roaming your body. and you're literally grinding on him. breathless, you let out a small moan. that led him to his edge. he picks you up while still kissing the hell out of you, walking to his room and almost tripping over a bag. putting you on the bed as he strips down, leaving his boxers on. you barely had anything on, so you just took your tank top and shorts off

you can see how big he is, even with his boxers on

he goes in for another rough kiss before putting his finger on the wet patch on your panties, sliding it off you. his big and long fingers doing circles on your clit "fuckk-" he pushes them in slowly before pumping your wet juicy cunt, it's so quiet the only thing that can be heard is your moans and the sound of your pussy. it's like music to his ears

"fuck me cheol.." "beg for it" as he's going faster with his hands "fuck.. ahh please–fuck me baby i need you so bad" he stops in his track, licking your juices off his fingers "shit babe you taste so good"

taking his boxers off and pushing your legs back to your chest. fuck his dick is big. "Can i put it in, baby?" "fuck yeah, just do it already please" he enters slowly "fuuck, you're so tight" resting a bit before moving, low grunts can be heard from him

"shit-ahh harder." he goes harder, balls slapping against your pussy "fuck you're so big" hearing that made his ego rise a little, he grabs your legs as he goes harder and faster than before "fuckkk ahh yeaaa" in overwhelming pleasure you scratched his back without realising "shit im sorry" "no, keep going" kissing you roughly before moving to your neck giving you hickeys

"Ah, 'm gonna cum-" "Yeah? cum for me baby" getting sloppy with each thrust. reaching your high he continues fucking into you for a little bit more before plopping next to you and kissing you on the cheek

he moved to cuddle you as if he didn't just ruin your insides a second ago, "you okay, babe? need anything? water? snacks?" "im okay baby, maybe later, " you said, hugging him in your arms

this is lowkey bad but who gives a fuck i don't get paid lmao

[dinogoofymutated]

Omg I love your headcanons/fics!! I really need to ask if you'd be willing to write an addendum for the jealousy headcanons for Wolverine? Of course no pressure if you can't/don't feel like, just thought I'd try to ask! :) Hope you have a nice day/night, and keep up the good work! 💗💗💗

Jealousy Headcannons!- Multi/GN!Reader - Wolverine, Morph, Angel, Sabretooth. You got it man!! Had a version of this requested for Logan so many times lol. I went ahead and added more characters to round it off into a full multi character hcs. Logan doesn't explicitly punch anyone in this one, so sorry if anyone was looking forward to that! (Sorry though, his is pretty similar to cable's) I'm also testing the waters while writing for Morph. I know everyone is starving for fics with them, but I'm not really used to writing for they/them characters (despite the fact that I try to avoid pronouns for the reader, weird I know, but its mostly due to me using you/your.) forgive me if I slip up with their pronouns, and let me know if I do so I can fix it! TWs: Violence (not towards reader, but some pretty mean names are called tho) Men can be creeps/harassment. Unnecessary changing scene with Warren bc I love non-sexual intimacy like that. Flirting, Barfights again but this time it's a little bloody (sabertooth) Drinking mentioned.

Wolverine

Okay, so Logan here is a bit of a mixed bag when it comes to jealousy. I really feel like it depends on the situation? In general, he trusts you more than just about anyone. When someone flirts with you, he's generally just very grouchy and most of the time, quiet. He glares a lot, and if you meet his gaze he'll raise an eyebrow, basically asking if you need an out, and then he'd act accordingly.

Buuuttt. If he's in a bad mood or has had a tough day, he's more likely to resort to threats and intimidation to handle any romantic attention you might receive. He gets more physically protective and will usually have an arm slung around you at all times.

That's not to say he only gets jealous of romantic attention though. I feel like he also get jealous of anything and anyone taking up your time, really. he'd probably stay quiet until he just kinda snaps and drags you away from whatever has your attention for smooches and cuddles. Don't let him fool you by telling you he's not cuddly, he totally is.

"Back. Up. Bub." Logan's rumbling voice is venomous, a growl of warning as he bows up on the man in front of you. The two of you had been out on a mission together, which normally would have gone perfectly fine. Unfortunately, you'd ended up running into some old acquaintances of his. Both of you were bristiling at the contact, but you knew that coaxing Logan into a fight was just what he wanted. The man had been making moves on you the entire time- and although you were practically an expert in ignoring the flirtation from asshole guys, you were beginning to get more and more uncomfortable with it. It was when the man had started to make sexual comments about your body that Logan snapped.

"Who you callin' bub, pipsqueak?" The man smirks, looking down on Logan with arrogance. Anxiety had begun to worm it's way into your stomach.

"You better learn to watch your mouth." Logan growls. His fists flex as his claws unsheath, the adamantium practically itching to dig into the guy's skin. This was escalating fast, and you needed to stop it now. You both needed to complete the mission without any complications, extra fights included.

"Logan, Please, can we just go?" You say, grabbing his wrist and tugging before he can launch himself at the man. Logan's angry face remains intact, but you can see the way his shoulders slightly loosen. He glances at you, before backing off from the man with a snarl. You sigh in relief as Logan turns to follow you as you drag him away, just thankful you've avoided a problem at that point.

" 'bitch's got you on a hellava tight leash. Who knew the wolverine would be so whipped over some cheap whore." Logan stops abruptly at the words, sighing deeply as he looks at you, rage burning in his eyes. Whatever reserved attitude you had about this fight was basically gone, evaporating at the insults. You let out a long sigh, before you pull your hands away from him and shrug your shoulders. Logan grins at you wickedly.

So what if he came home with a few more bruises than normal? His knuckles would heal- but the ass whooping he gave out would damage that guy's ego forever.

Angel

Warren is the silently jealous type. No matter how bad he's being cooked with jealousy, he's really just going to keep an eye on you from afar. Growing up as a rich kid, I feel like his dad was very strict on manners and how not to make a public scene, which has kinda carried over into his adulthood.

If someone just won't give it a rest and keeps trying to pursue you, Warren will be not low-key about it. He'll come over and set his hand on your back, or sling his arm around your shoulder, or if he's feeling really cocky, Shake the person's hand and introduce himself as your boyfriend/husband. He'll only outright tell them to back off if they start to get out of hand and he knows you're getting really uncomfortable.

"I just don't like him." Warren says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He's still in his suit from before, the red and bright white standing out starkly compared to the muted warm tones of your shared bedroom. You laugh at him as you begin to change.

"What? Why? I think Pietro is kinda funny." You ask, beginning to take off your shirt. Warren sighs in a petty way.

"Yeah, exactly." He mumbles under his breath, walking over to help you when your head gets stuck in the neckline like it always does. You give him a kiss on his cheek when you're free, not quite having heard him.

"Can't I dislike him just to dislike him? I don't need a reason." Warren speaks up this time, and you can't seem to hold back your amused smile as he digs his hole deeper. "-but, if I did, I'd say he's just too friendly with you. I don't like it." You can't help but laugh at that as you finish changing into more comfortable clothes. He turns around on autopilot, letting you unzip him from his suit- careful not to catch his blonde hair with the zipper.

"It's not like he's taking me away from you, Warren." You say, pressing a kisses to his exposed neck and back as you help him navigate his wings through. Warren huffs a little, his wings twitching as his voice goes soft.

"I never said that. I know he's not. I trust you enough to know so. I just..." He trails off, stepping out of his suit and left in his boxers. He lets you pull his shirt over him, stretching his wings in the confined space of the bathroom when its on correctly. You cock an eyebrow at him now that you're facing him, waiting for him to continue. He doesn't, simply looking away from you to avoid your knowing gaze. You let out an amused chuff before closing in on him.

"It's okay to be jealous, Warren, but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere." You say confidently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He sighs again, but smiles as he looks at you with a soft and loving gaze. His arms wrap around your waist as he rests his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as the two of you begin to sway a little.

"Yeah, I know."

Morph

I really think that Morph is more of an insecure jealous type, but they're more likely to hide it behind humor. If you're being flirted and don't seem to be overly uncomfortable, they're probably going to fade into the background. They know that you love them, and they trust you, but they're so used to being second best for everyone they know that they just feel like they're bothering you. Later on, when whoever is flirting with you leaves, Morph will shift into them and start joking about it. Don't let the humor fool you, they're hurting right now. Just give Morph some extra love and kisses and reassurance and they'll feel better eventually.

Now, if it's clear that someone is bothering you, Morph won't be afraid to roast the everloving shit out of them. They take the moment to really embarrass the person, and if you're in a bar he'd totattally shift into the dude just to offer a drink to everyone and then dip, sticking the asshole with the bill.

You really didn't like clubs. They were busy and loud, but you had a friend celebrating her birthday in one, so who were you to turn down the invite? You certainly couldn't go without your favorite shapeshifter by your side either. The only problem was that Morph wasn't the only one who had eyes for you that night. Morph hadn't said anything in the moment, but you knew stuff like this bothered them. Even while walking home from the club, they still seemed to be trying to brush it off.

"Hey, Good-lookin. You interested?" Morph says, having shifted into the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. They're leaning against the side of the payphone like a goofball, having waited there as you called the school to let the others know you were finally on the way home, tipsy, but still hoping the fresh air would sober the both of you up. You roll your eyes as you giggle at them, shoving their shoulder and sending them stubiling.

"In that guy? No way!" You laugh, walking past Morph before they quickly catch up to you.

"You gotta admit, he was pretty handsome for a POS." They joke, puckering their lips and making kissy faces at you.

"Mmhm. suuureeee." You hum, pushing their face away from yours as they laugh.

"Come on, you saying' that tall dark and handsome isn't your type?" Morph shifts from the man at the club, and into the blonde, blue-eyed Warren worthington, wings hidden underneath the supposed coat. "-Or maybe you'd prefer blondes. I hear Warren's quite at catch." You huff at them, and shake your head again. Something in their tone of voice just seems to set off alarms in your brain, and they doesn't seem to be acting as genuine with you anymore, a vulnerability creeping into their voice no matter how hard they were trying to hide it. This goes on for a rather solid minute, Morph shifting into different people you know and asking who you prefer with a laugh and a fake smile. You shake your head every time, but it's starting to become more than just a bit. You begin to lose your patience, your own hurt seeping through the cracks.

"You're into the gruff, muscly, Logan, right? Hafta' be if you're still-"

"Kevin." You finally cut them off with a stern tone of voice, grabbing their wrist as you abruptly stop walking. They flinch at the name, eyes blowing wide with concern as they shift from logan, then to the dark haired version of themselves- before then settling on the form you know so well.

"... Not the government name." They mumble, more caught up in the strict way you said their name rather than the words themselves. You grab them by the collar of their leather jacket, pulling them close to you as you look into their eyes.

"How many times to I have to tell you I love you for you to believe me?" You whisper after a moment, voice coming out a little broken. Morph's seems to panic a little, making a concerned face as their hands catch hold of your wrists gently.

"I- no, that's not what I..." Morph says, trying their best to fix the situation. They can't seem to come up with the right words, their eyes avoiding your gaze as their mouth opens and closes with no luck. You cup the side of their face, bringing them back to face you.

"I. Love. You." You say purposefully. "Not some guy at the club- you, Morph. Any part of you that you want to give me, Any form you want to take. As long as it's you, I don't care." Morph relaxes at your words, sighing as you bring them closer to you, resting their forehead against your own.

"Yeah?" They ask, eyes fluttering closed.

"Yeah." You reply, finally leaning in to kiss them lovingly. They return the kiss softly, only separating from you when you begin to drag them down the sidewalk with you once again, hand in hand.

Sabertooth

He does not handle jealousy well at all. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past him to put someone in the hospital. It doesn't matter if they're just flirting, or if they're actually bothering you, he's going to start some shit. The man loves to start fights, and he couldn't care less what the reason is for. I will say though, he's gonna be a lot less smiley if the person insults either of you. He may be a shitstarter, but he doesn't take disrespect, especially not disrespect towards his S/O.

He's never mad at you for it. If anything, he's glad you gave him the chance to take some anger out. He'll encourage you to wear sexy and revealing outfits because he wants to see you wear them, and also because he's gonna beat the shit out of the first guy (and every guy, honestly) to look at you the wrong way. ESPECIALLY if you have boobs. Those are his boobs. He wants them to be popping out of your clothes 24/7 but no one else is allowed to look at them. Did he just see someone glance at you? Say goodbye to your teeth, motherfucker. (and your balls too.)

Victor loved shitty dive bars, as gross and unsanitary they may be. He liked to bar hop a few of them every other night, and although you weren't necessarily the dive bar type, you did enjoy spending time with him. Normally you'd just wear casual clothes, but today you had wanted to dress up a little bit. Nothing too fancy, but your shirt was a little low cut compared to what you normally wear. Victor had been loving it, especially since he got to have you as his eye-candy. That was what you were going for, and you succeeded! The only problem was that he wasn't the only one appreciating the view.

You were sitting at the bar, watching Victor win another round of pool while sipping on your drink. A man had sat next to you earlier, but you didn't think anything of it at first. It was a busy saturday night, and there weren't that many seats open at the bar. At most, you had a uneasy tingling on the back of your neck, feeling that someone was watching you.

"What's a fine thing like you doing in this shitty place?" The man suddenly asks. You send him a questioning glance, almost baffled at the flirting. He must be new here, because every other regular of this place knew for a fact who you always come here with, and no other man is stupid enough to try their luck with you while he's lingering around.

"Who, me? Enjoying some peace and quiet, obviously." You say in a sarcastic tone. The man chuckles next to you.

"Aw, not interested, sweetheart? I swear I'll make it worth your while." You make an obviously disgusted face at that, beginning to wonder who this guy thinks he is. The tingling feeling you feel hasn't let up, in fact, it's only gotten stronger. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up, and you can't help but feel like something is seriously wrong here. You brushed it off on the alcohol, but Victor had always been a bit more perceptive than you. He barely glanced over in your direction before he was storming over. For a split second you think he's mad at you, until he violently grabs the man next to you by the collar, his claws scraping across his collarbones and causing him to yelp as he shallow cuts begin to bleed.

"Did I just see you staring?" Victor huffs, glaring so hard you swear the man shrinks underneath his gaze. Every bit of confidence he had a minute ago had vanished completely.

"W-what? I... Uh..." The man stutters, unable to say a complete sentence through his fear. Victor turns to you slightly, his grip not letting up for a second.

"He say something to you, Doll?" He asks, and you wonder if you should tell him the truth. You almost felt bad for the guy in his grip, knowing that he was probably just stupid and new to this bar. You shake your head in response, even though the stranger had been giving you off vibes since the moment he sat down. Victor grins at you, a loving excitement in his eyes as his grip only gets tighter.

"Aww, you don't have to lie, sweet thing." Victor chuckles, and you grimace when you realise that he totally saw that lie coming a mile away. Vic turns back to the man, his smile dropping instantly as his other hand slips the guy's phone out and slams it on the counter of the bar. "Open your camera." Vic snarls. The man starts to panic now, squirming to get out of his grip.

"N-no! Let go of me Man!" The man stutters. Vic only begins to grin again.

"Nuh-uh. I want you to show my baby the photos you've been taking all night." Photos? You didn't know anything about any photos. Your brows furrow as the man begins to whine and panic, squirming to no avail. Vic smirks at you as he send you a nodd, and you grab the phone and open the creep's gallery. There has to have been over thirty photos of you from just tonight, sitting at the bar, ordering your first drink, even one from when you had gotten up to use the restroom.

"Oh, gross!" You say, recoiling from the phone and wiping your hands on your shirt, not wanting to know where this guys hands had been all night. The man in Victor's grip has gone completely pale, freezing at the sight of Vic's terrifying smile. He reaches over towards the phone with his free hand, picking up the device before crushing it with his bare hand.

"Why don't you head outside, honeybee. I'll take out the trash while you're gone."

[daffodils-and-viscera]

i've seen a lot of posts comparing mastermind to truth seekers but hear me out: ozzie's

SO this may be long buckle in. these episodes kinda have the same plot?

blitzø has found himself in a bit of a sitch, as it were...

our beloved dramatic gay owl is at home watching gabriela pine over alejandro, when suddenly... blitzy is in trouble! omg let's get cunty and go save the day!!

however, despite showing up and saving lives (he may have literally saved blitzø's life in mastermind but that outfit from ozzie's changed all our lives forever soo...) blitzø isn't necessarily ((outwardly)) happy to see stolas (((we all know he does not mind stolas' ass in his face but stay with me here)))

stolas' privilege allows him to be immediately heard and not punished by the people who would never listen to blitzø's side of things, and stolas gets to be his dramatic lil bitch self and we love to see it

in ozzie's, blitzø has his past come back to haunt him in so many ways, he is put in the spotlight and he is decidedly not comfortable there, being called out for all the shit he's done to fizz and verosika and even m&m - HOWEVER! as we all now know, all of those people actually care about blitzø and he was just being his lil destructive self. he is given the chance to defend himself but it's overwhelming and he kinda freezes up

in mastermind, blitzø is being outright blamed for things he didn't do but like.. he actually didn't do any of that ! and yet he can't defend himself because nobody would listen to him even if he wasn't gagged.

the difference between these 2 episodes is in stolas' behaviour when HE is put in the spotlight- at ozzie's he is freshly separated from stella and probably hasn’t done anything social for a long ass time and he’s not used to being in public. and here’s this thing that he thinks is gonna be fun and will help blitzø but he is not able to express himself so he hides and the result of that is blitzø pushing him away, literally doesn’t want to touch him

in MASTERMIND our birdy babe is singing his lil heart out with no regard for what anyone else thinks of him or what might happen to him, which is so beautiful (but also stolas pls try not to inhale the water).... when he doesn't hide his feelings from blitzø we see how perfect it could be when their inner worlds merge and they are finally on the same page, and blitzø does the furthest thing possible from pushing stolas away !!!

(he did however still neglect to consider octavia's feelings when he decided to drop everything for blitzø... with devastating implications in mastermind) sorry to bring the mood down but this needs to be pointed out

in ozzie's, stolas tries to invite blitzø to his place (and we all remember how well that went)........ blitzø goes home alone and loona is not there, he is all alone and sad curled up on the couch on his phone looking at all the people he believes he's let down and it's heartbreaking

when stolas goes to blitzø's place in mastermind, stolas gets all the love and support blitzø has to offer and loona is there too and blitzø curls up on the couch on his phone looking at all these people who love and support him!!! and then he makes the couch all comfy for stolas and he’s not alone?? like they’re both so not alone that it hurts my heart to think about. these 2 have so much love for each other and yeah there's gonna be tough times ahead but they are not alone! !!!!

basically both eps end the same? but also everything is better now? because blitz was loved before he just couldn’t see it through all his nonsense

and stolas is still in a messed up situation and he's still kinda problematic and he couldn’t see it before through all his nonsense but now he’s more self aware?

the real difference is they have each other now! they are so not alone it makes them look stupid!!

anyway this is the longest post i've ever made sorry if it's rambly i have adhd and a lot of feelings about these two

[brights-place]

So twst x murder drones

A cyn yuu that mellowed down yet is Still a goofball but when a overbolt happened they go feral on it a few zombie and disassembly drones here and there. 

[TWST] TWST x Cyn!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Fights, Swearing, Gore

Pt. 1 (Here) , Pt. 2 A/N: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THSI CAUSE ITS MY FIRST TWST REQUETS OMG OMG!! anyways I LOVED THE IDEA OF CYN! YUU SO MUCHHHHH anyways this will be placed in Book 6 and again I was kind of struggling since I haven't watched murder drones in awhile which sucksss plus I've been struggling with writing fight scenes so I hope this was alright in some sorts..?

Summary: Cyn! Yuu was something there was no acutal way if everybody knew her real personality and actual mannerisms, as little is known of her from before her disposal, and after rebooting she has no control over herself due to the Solver possessing her. So when given the chance to be in a different world she used it to her advantaged yet she would do these things that others couldn't question but the moment it came when Idia overblotted and Taking Grim. They all couldn't help but witness the more... destructive side of her

Footsteps echoed as each and every group finally ended up in their final destination. Your eyes staring ahead as you already were the first one there your hands were close to your chest head lodged to the side. Your digital pupils staring at the group that came down from different parts of stairs and back to the figure hovering over them from afar Idia’s overblotted form hovering body is dominated by black and glowing blue tones. Blue flames crown his head and twist around his figure. His sleek angular armor is adorned with glowing blue accents and a central heart-like emblem on his chest. His lower body dissolves into flowing, tattered flames, giving him a ghostly, unbound appearance. A jagged-toothed mask obscures his face, while his glowing mismatched eyes. One burning intensely with blue fire reflect his despair and rage. A overblotted monster behind him hovering roaring as your eyes darted around as you scanned Idia and the overblot monster. You smiled trudging forward to the others "Hello everybody" "Hi Epel" you smiled waving as Epel waved back witha soft smile before you were standing with everybody snapping your head over back to Idia while others were belittling him and talking/shouting at him while the firey blue haired male was monologuing you couldn't help but be bored. Raising one of your hands to lift up your head while your shoes started dragging on the floor before stopping as you scanned Idia and the blot creature from behind him Leon couldn't help but stare at you when you were moving and stating your next action "Lick" your metallic tongue sticking out licking one of your digital eyes that were glitching slightly. "(Your Name) What are you doing?" Epel shouted as he noticed you were walking closer to Idia who stared down at you with eyebrows furrowed blue smoke coming from his mask "What are you-" "Giggle" Leona eyes widened as he stepped back smelling something coming from you not the usual one of a robot like Ortho but of something coming from a rotting corpse while Epel went to go towards you he reached his hand out towards the lavendar haired male grabbing him back instantly handing him off to Vil "GET DOWN" That one singular word had everybody quickly move away as you snapped your head up to Idia "Oh Y-Yes" voice glitching "Get snuck upon" everybody froze seeing how your digital pupils turned into yellow X's giving a fangy grin darting forward to Idia. The males eyes widened when you vanished from infront of him before snapping his head to the side when you past him landing back onto the floor below grinning while the others saw your change of appearance that changed instantly that resembles a rotting human-child corpse wearing black heels and a black tattered dress.

The way you moved on all fours with eyes sockets staring right at Idia that were dark showing signs they were ripped open with your X-shapes glowing a neon yellow-orange color that darted around each time deflecting Idia is throws and magic with the overblot monster. "Stab" You stated while fleshy like large tendrils came out poking out on your back, three intestine like tentacles protrude out of this form of yours is back as you used it to climb around walls and digging into the floor when skidding back neck snapping to the side as you stared at Idia who was heaving heavily as another spare of black tendrils shot out. Epel was frozen seeing how you were laughing and throwing Idia around as you continued to play around with him before Vil was shouting at you to get the overblot monster before you appeared behind Vil a large tendril appeared from you shooting out to stab Vil who was grabbed away by Rook "Angry." you said grinning while your X eyes staring at them. You were mentally cussing every human in here they were getting annoying to deal with these humans in this other world but you needed them for now and you wanted this done with as long as Grim didn't see this you were fine. It was annoying you on how when they tried to shoot magic at Idia they were close to hurting you in the trial so it made your job extra hard. Vil though being held by Rook before placing down was staring at your body and at a ripped part of your corpse like body reveals a drone identification number on her chest to be 1001 wearing a yellow "MARKED FOR DISASSEMBLY" armband wrapped around your left shoulder. Snapping your head back over to the overblot monster you grinned sprouting wings from your back that was slightly ripped on the bottom with camera-eyes appearing staring and zooming into Idia who's eyes widened when you lunged forward at him once again fangs showing with your smile, voice glitching "Let's eat." Riddle was petrified by how you were standing there unhinged and giggling how your body shifted into something else how you made the blot monster become into nothing toying with Idia. He wondered in his overblot form if you did anything like that but he didn't hear anything from any heartslabyul members so this situation with you was something he wouldn't have expect. Leona could smell the oil from your body the way your body and joints were snapping. The group even though trying to help you fight kept getting in your way especially when you in moments slammed them away to continue to torment Idia. Even though Idia deserved it he noticed how your mouth was drooling a black substance of oil. Azul was beside Riddle jaw slacking at how you laughed showing off numerous jagged sharp teeth with a dark gray metallic tongue that made him feel as if you were on par with the leech twins... He may or may not be considering on hiring you with how he saw you were handling the situation against Idia. Jamil felt useless in this entire situation not only with the time with Leona he was struggling with keeping up with you. Trying to shoot out large sums of magic but when he noticed how one of your tendrils shot out to him throwing him to the side he skidded to a stop.

Vil was beside Epel, and Rook staring at the scene. Epel looking horrified to see his so called friend having spike like tendrils throwing idia and impaling the overblot monster seeing you actually laughing without saying the word giggle or a word to describe your actions like usual. Rook though he would be complimenting your beauty or whatever someone was doing was holding a serious expression beside Vil nodding to eachother.

The after math with Vil saving Idia, Ortho also with Vil becoming old and everything though you were staring down at Idia who blinked letting out an 'eep' when you made a chomping motion to him "Bite" the moment you stepped on the ship with Grim going on first the air was tense the group staring at you while you used one of your hands to hold your head up properly "Blink" You continued to head over to a seat on the ship sitting down finally.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ ©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[babygirl-riley]

Hii could you do one with ghost seeing his newborn and he came with guest like John, price, gaz for tea and the reader heard her baby start to cry and she goes to breast feed her baby upstairs for privacy and downstairs they all tell ghost how far he’s come in life and how proud they are of him and like they got gifts for the baby. If that’s okay with you!

Tea Time

Ghost brings guests over to meet his newborn baby

A/N: Omg this really warms my heart they would be so happy for him. Especially Price! Like lord watching his masked son have a child of his own 😭 Also sorry about the late story post school has been beating my asssss

Warnings: fluff, talks about baby, pure happiness, husband!simon, dad!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

It was at first an awkward silence all four of them sitting in a living room. Simon decided to bring his military family over to meet his newborn. Simon wasn’t able to be there when you gave birth. Missed it by two months since the baby was born, due to a mission going sideways. When he called to inform you that he was coming home, you naturally were excited.

While Simon was packing up to get going, Price followed him out. “Once the both of you are settled love to meet the little bugga.”

Simon chuckled. “Of course Cap.”

Simon called you again, it only rung twice before you picked it up. “On your way?” Your voice sounded tired yet perked up at the end.

“Yes ma’am, j’st leavin’,” He paused before clearing his throat. “Price mentioned comin’ and meeting the baby.”

“Okay,” You said calming waiting to see if he would say anything else before softly chuckling. “They coming today?”

Simon tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Didn’ say yes to today, you wantin’ to?”

“I wouldn’t mind, haven’t had company over for a while. Unless you don’t want it?” You said, he could hear the smile in your voice. Both of you didn’t want anyone over at the end of your pregnancy worried about everything and then some. Didn’t want to get you sick in case of something would happen to the baby.

Simon went silent before nodding like you could see him. “I don’t mind.”

Before getting the call ahead for the boys to come, you have Simon time to hold his baby girl. At first he was hesitant looking at the small thing that bundled into the pink blanket. “She won’t break.” You smiled softly, holding a hand to his bicep.

“She is small.” He whispered watching her make faces as she slept.

You lifted your arm and started to guide his, forming his arms to be ready to hold her. You could see the small panic in his eyes as you started to place her. Guiding him how to hold her head. She moved basically looking like she was settling herself into his arms. He went stiff before looking at you as he smiled a bit. “She’s beautiful baby.”

“We did good baby.” You said getting on your tippy toes as he leaned down kissing each other’s lips.

It was a couple of hours before he called Price and the boys to come and meet mini Riley. Without hesitation they all said yes and barreled their way down to the Riley home.

Now here they are, sitting around the living room. Gaz looked around the room noting some pictures of you and him on the wall. Some with his mask some not. Soap tapped his boots on the floor and Price drank the tea you made. Simon waited near the stairs as you started down them. All of them perked up like puppies on a park.

You showed off the baby to the boys. They held her one by one, watching her move around and fall asleep to smiling in her sleep. Price chuckled as she gripped his finger and played with her hand. Gaz held her as everyone talked around about the baby and how many pounds she weighted. Then it was Soap.

“She is beautiful,” Soap said holding her softly, she was laying on his forearms as he held her head with his hands. Soap leaning on his legs as he stared down at her. “Bet she gets it from ya huh lass?”

You chuckled as Simon glared at Soap, you could tell underneath his mask that he was smirking. “Kind of glad she don’ have my nose.” Simon mumbled agreeing with him.

Soap chuckled as he looked back at the baby. That’s when she let out a fuss before she cried. At first Soap was shocked and looked at you and Simon. You looked over at the clock as Simon grabbed her. “Don’t worry Soap you probably just stink,” You joked walking to Simon as you reached for her. “No but I have to go feed her.”

Simon nodded as you turned around. “Want any help?”

“Oh no she has it all handled Si.” You said smirking before winking and left upstairs.

Simon stood there and watched, disappearing. “She is beautiful Simon.” Price said breaking the silence.

Simon shrugged and nodded. “Would never think ya have a family.” Soap said with a teasing tone.

Price glared at him before Gaz chuckled. “Honestly I thought the same.”

Simon looked at both of them. “I didn’t either.”

Price sighed and shook his head. “I knew,” everyone looked at him. “You might seem like a cold hearted lieutenant however you have a kind heart,” Silence roamed through the air, Simon did not expect him to say anything like that. “I’m proud of you son.”

Soap was wide eyed then looked at Simon. “Nah he is right, never seen you so…”

“Don’t push it.” Simon grumbled seeing that glint in his eyes.

Soap put his hands up before looking at him. “For real though sir, you have an amazing family here.”

Gaz shuffled before standing up. “If you need a babysitter pretty sure Lola would love to watch her.”

Simon chuckled before standing up with him. “Have to fight the missus first.”

Gaz chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You really look happy chap, just happy that you are able to find something and someone’s to come home to.”

Simon was shocked all around, he hasn’t heard any of these before from them. At least Soap and Gaz. Price every now and then. He felt proud yet it was odd to feel that way. “Thank you, all of ya.”

Price finished his tea as he stood up and walked to Simon. Gaz heading towards the door, giving a curt nod. Soap followed Gaz and gave a two finger salute. “See ya later sir.” Soap said was he opened the door. “Tell the lasses I said bye!” He hollered out.

“I’ll meet ya in the car yeah?” Price said to Gaz.

Gaz nodded and gave a wave to Simon. “Seriously proud of ya sir.”

Simon stood there for a moment before looking at Price. “You really have come a long way Simon. Ever since you met her it’s like you became lighter.”

Simon looked away towards the upstairs. “Like Gaz said John she is my home to come to.“

“I know she is, just proud of you for where ya at,” Price said as he sighed. “You were so lost Simon until you married her. She changed you for the better and you let yourself do that as well. I just wanted to tell you that I’m truly proud.”

Simon looked at Price and inhaled. “Thank you sir but I’m still terrified.”

Price chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Oh that won’t change, wait till she brings a boy home.”

Simon froze as Price walked towards the door. The poor bloke that would be coming home to Simon, she may never get a boyfriend until he dies. Yeah that would be the case.

[dilfl0v3rss]

Hear me out 😮‍💨 - ony and y/n get in a argument but ony in the wrong and he look for a way to apologize

omg yessssssss bc usually we be the ones in troubleeee. i like how you thinking boo. we gon use basketball player!ony for this one since a lot of people liked it. aight so boom...

the argument

cw: smuttttyyyy

word count: 2.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was eleven o'clock when your boyfriend finally decided to come home. he had his duffle bag on his shoulder as he roughly kicked off his crocs at the door. you can tell he had an attitude, probably due to something that happened at practice, but so did you. it had been about a month since the the two of you have had so much as a movie night together because he's been so caught up in basketball and school. this was no where near your fault given that you've tried to spend time with him at every opportunity you had, but ony always had an excuse.

"can't mama, finna go to the weight room wit the guys." or "another time baby. coach had us running like a track team at practice." and other excuses like that caused you to stop even trying. and the worst part was, he didn't even notice. ony continued to come home late into the night because of basketball and leave early in the morning for class without batting an eye. tonight you've had enough. he promised to be home by eight since he only had practice from three to six, but lo and behold, this nigga didn't come home until eleven.

"do you know what time it is?" you stood up from your seat on the couch, placing each of your hands on your wide hips. you had to stop yourself from swinging on this nigga when you heard him mumble an "oh my fucking god" after sucking his teeth. "excuse me? you got sum to say nigga?" your were ready to scream. how could he have an attitude right now when he's the one completely in the wrong. he could've at least called to let you know he wouldn't be able to get home on time, but nooooo. he says nothing, and now he comes in the house acting like a child.

"ion got time f'this y/n. i been running around like a chicken wit its fucking head cut off all practice because niggas on the team don't know how to make simple jump shots." you scoff as you heard his excuse. "so first, you come home three hours late. don't call or text me to let me know that you were even coming late. and now, you come in here, don't even apologize, and have an attitude? that's cute. you sleeping on the couch."

your words must've set him off because ony immediately started raising his voice. "here you go wit that shit bro. the world don't revolve around you y/n." you started getting into his face. "i never said it did, but m'not finna sit here and act like ion deserve at least a little of your time. i'm your fucking girlfriend ony. don't you think it's a little odd that you be picking literally everything little fucking thing to do instead of spend time with me?" you can tell you struck a nerve when he folded his lips, looking straight ahead as if you weren't even there.

this was something ony did to keep his anger at bay since he was known to have a really bad temper. "chill wit allat cussing lil girl. m'not finna go back and forth wit you cause you being clingy." you was on ten at this point. you just told this man what he was doing wrong and all he registered from it was that you were cursing? "are you kidding me? you know what? you can have the bed. m'finna just go since m'so 'clingy'. when you ready to be a man and talk then you can call me." you went into your room and grabbed your PINK duffle bag before heading to your dresser to start packing.

ony watched as you stuffed clothes from each drawer into the bag, not even looking at what you were grabbing as tears blurred your vision. as soon as the words left his lips, he immediately regretted them. you had every right to want to spend some time with him given how much he's been neglecting you for other things. he let his stupid attitude get the best of him as soon as he walked into the door. he knew he should've apologized once he got home, but, being the prideful man he was, he decided to just make things worse by being a dickhead.

and now the woman that he loves is crying, trying to leave the house because he doesn't know how to control his emotions. before he knew it, you were at the door. holding your phone in your hand as you dialed your friends number for her to pick you up. ony listened to the phone ring twice before the girl known as eboni answered. "hello?" he wasted no time snatching the phone from you, hanging it up and putting it in his pocket. "the fuck you doing. gimme my pho-"

"you not leaving me y/n."

you looked up at him and were surprised to see water in his eyes. of course the tears never fell because ony never liked to cry in front of anyone, but the fact that they were getting to this point was surprising. you sigh calmly. "m'just gonna stay at eboni's for a couple days until you get your head right." you felt his strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as he spoke. "my head is right y/n. i was being selfish and stupid and prideful. i shoulda called or at least said 'sorry' when i got home, but i didn't. i called you clingy and invalidated your feelings. m'sorry furreal baby please just-....just don't leave me."

ony felt you shuffling so you can wrap your arms around him as well. the two of you staying like that for a while before you broke the silence. "i'd never leave you baby, just want you to be a little better wit your time management." he squeezed you tighter. "i will mama. i will" as the two of you loosened your grips on each other, ony lightly gripped your face in his hand before giving you a bunch of soft kisses on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. you were a giggling mess before you lightly pushed him away, making a fake serious face. "you still need to make it up t'me. what you said was mean."

a smirk crept on your boyfriends face as he led you to your bedroom. "ill make it up t'you right now baby." ony lied you down on the bed, removing his clothes until he was only left in his boxers. "take allat off mama i got sum else for you to wear." you gave him a confused look before eventually just shrugging your shoulders and removing all of your clothes. you lied naked on the bed as you watched ony pull his jersey out of his bag, bringing it to you. "put this on." was all he said before you gave him another questionable look.

"cmon pretty i wanna make love t'you wit it on." you had no idea what he was getting at, but you put in on anyways. ony was way bigger than you so the jersey was almost like a dress on you, stopping right below your ass before he lifted it up over you stomach and lied you back down. his body between your legs as he looked up at you. "ready?" his breath instantly touched your pussy, making you jump. before you could even reply, ony got to eating. he licked and sucked your clit like a starved man. long middle finger prodding at your entrance before he slowly pushed it all the way in .

your back arched off the bed as he kept sucking on your clit, middle finger reaching deep inside of you while you moaned his name like a prayer. "f-fuck onyyy" he moved his eyes towards your face, taking in your beauty before removing his mouth from your heat. "look at me baby. wanna see those pretty eyes." you slowly opened your eyes, pretty black lashes fluttering as you tried your best to focus on on him. a small smile crept onto ony's face as he added another finger into you, middle and index fingers digging you out as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

there's no way you could keep them open when he's making you feel this good. maybe you should get mad at him more often. your back was still arched off the bed before you felt your lover place his large hand on your stomach, pushing it down as he started fingering you faster. you felt your orgasm approaching as ony held his fast pace, licking and sucking on your clit to bring you to the edge faster. "ahghh...ohh my goddd...oouuhhh shit." you were losing it, hips fighting ony's hand as they twisted and turned all over the place. "i know mama. i know....jus let it out for me." the coil in your stomach snapped, liquid ecstasy flowing out of you and all over your mans face.

you shook in overstimulation as he kept eating without batting and eye. ony's fingers still held their fast pace as your hands flew to his head, trying to push him off and move back from him before you made an ever bigger mess. he bound both of your wrists in his hand before laying it back down onto your stomach. "stop runnin’ mama. m'not done." you were moaning so loud you had to make a silent prayer that the two of you don't wake up with a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. "f-fuckk daddy ima make a mess pleaseee." you whined, but ony ignore you.

it actually felt like he started getting rougher. licking and sucking your clit harder while his fingers were now pounding into you. before you knew it, you were cumming again, making the mess you were trying to warn him about. you squirted everywhere from his face to his chest, some of it even running down his body and wetting up the waistband of his black briefs. ony sat back on his knees he looked down as your disheveled state. "look so pretty." he mumbled before pulling his underwear down right until his dick sprang free.

his hard length slapped onto his stomach before bouncing up and down due to gravity. doe eyes followed its movements. ony chuckled as he watched you become entranced by his dick. "y'ready mama? if its too much jus scratch my back cause m'not stopping until this this whole bed is wet." you nodded your head he lined himself up with your entrance, sucking his teeth at your lack of vocalization. "cmon baby talk t'me. you ready for daddy to make love t'you?" you look up to see his brown orbs already staring down at you. lips curved into a soft smile as he awaited your reply.

"yes. i want you t'make love to me" ony’s smile widened before he pushed himself into you slowly. eyes never leaving yours, reading your expressions to know when to stop to let you adjust. you were grateful for this because he was nowhere near small, and his girth alone would had you ready to cry at times. soon enough, the space between the two of you was completely gone. dick fully sheathed inside your pussy as ony waited for you to give him the okay to move. the two of you never broke eye contact through all of this and once you gave him a small "okay" he wasted no time.

slowly stroking you as he stared into your eyes. it was like the two of you were taking a look into each other souls. he began picking up his pace, pounding into you the way he knew you loved which caused you to tear up from the pleasure. "how it feel baby?" your back arched into him. the two of you stomach to stomach as ony intertwined both of his hands with yours. you couldn't even speak, using jumbled moans to reply. "aahghh...mmmughh." your eyes were at the back of your skull as you felt the tip his dick begin to kiss your cervix, making your legs open wider as you freed your hands from his and raked them down his back.

ony continued his onslaught on your pussy. letting you scratch up and down his back as he lied his hands flat next to both sides of your head, pounding into you harder. "mhmm sing f'me baby." you screamed as you felt your orgasm come out of nowhere. squirting once again on his dick, but he didn't stop. he fucked you through it, letting your essence splash all over your lower halves as he continued to look down at you. you were absolutely stunning. tears running down your cheeks as you looked up at him. bottom lip being tugged on by your teeth as your body jerked from his hard thrusts. "made my pretty girl cry. you should never be cryin'. daddy can't give you those babies if i be making you cry like that." he groaned before pressing his hand on the big number three on his jersey. he was so deep in you he felt the bulge he was making in your stomach under his hand.

your tears reminded ony of how you were earlier. angry and ready to leave him after he hurt you with his cruel words. he vowed to never do nothing that dumb again. "you only supposed to be crying from pleasure, never pain. m'sorry mama. s-so sorry." you began to spasm around your boyfriends dick, fourth orgasm of the night ready to come out. ony felt this and sped up, feeling close to the edge as well. "you forgive me baby?" his eyes never left your face as you whined out your reply. "i-i f-forgive you daddy. i f-forgive you." you smiled up at him, shakily putting your hand on his cheek. you caressed his dark brown skin as you felt your orgasm approaching. "i wanna cum together papa."

ony kissed into your palm before leaning down and softly kissing your lips. "cum mama. m'right there wit you." the both of your threw your heads back in unison as he gave you three hard strokes before stilling inside of you. cream leaking onto his base as you felt his hot load fill your pussy. you stayed like that for awhile, kissing each other while you caught your breath. ony saw your eyes flutter as you fought off your sleep. removing his jersey from your body before carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet the turned on the shower. "need you to pee before i can let you get in." after you peed then the two of you showered together, ridding each others of the evidence of your earlier activities.

as you got dressed, ony changed the sheets and remade the bed so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. he then carried you to the bed, knowing your legs were probably still a little week before laying you on top of him. "mama?" he grumbled, you can tell he was getting tired as well. "hmm?" "im real sorry okay? never ever meant to hurt you." you lightly chuckled while tracing different shapes on his chest. "i know baby. and i know basketball and stuff could be time consuming and you just wanna do your own thing sometimes, but i just wish you'd give me just a little of your time y'know". ony rubbed on your lower back as he hummed in agreement. "ima do better. tomorrow i got early morning practice so im all yours after class. how that sound." you looked up at your boyfriend. he's doing better already. "sounds great."

[mactavishsgfandwife]

saw that ur reqs r open, and i love all ur work sooo here i am lol

what would the tf141 boys be like w a reader who’s into horror? (i was thinking reader is like rlly sweet but loves playing horror video games or smth, but u can interpret it however u want!)

i can js imagine johnny freaking out when he sees reader playing like,,silent hill or smth. or resident evil 7 (can u tell im a horror game nerd lol)

but yeah! js a silly little idea i had, feel free not to write it if u don’t want to! have a good day, ily!

TF141 Watching a Horror Movie With You 🎃

hi omg this is such a cute concept!! thank you so much for the support, you have no idea how much i appreciate it! i have so many ideas for them with someone who loves horror movies so that’s what this post is about (i hope that’s ok :( ) but i’ll try to write about horror games another time because that’s such a cute concept! i just have lots of ideas for this one rn so i thought i’d do it first female reader, fluff, not proofread <3

Simon "Ghost" Riley thinks it’s cute that you love horror movies. He spends half his life in a real-life horror, he’s seen things that you could never imagine. Teasingly calls you a ‘psycho’ for just sitting there happily, cuddled up to him as you watch something absolutely terrifying go down on the screen.

Simon is a pain in the ass to watch certain horror movies with, because if guns or fighting are involved then he will make sure to point out to you exactly what the directors got wrong.

"He’s holding it wrong… if I even… Price’d never let me hear t’end of it," he mumbles, not talking to anyone in particular.

When you cuddle on the sofa, if you’re laying face down on his chest, he loves to keep one hand on your ass. Sometimes, if something does make him jump, he’ll squeeze it out of instinct.

People don’t usually expect it but you’re very good with scary stuff, you rarely ever get spooked out. But sometimes you do, especially if you’re tired and it’s late.

Once, after you’d watched a film, you went to get ready for bed and Simon went ‘to eat something’. Even when you were all changed and ready for bed, he still hadn’t returned, and so - twiddling your fingers together for reassurance - you peeked out into the darkened hallway.

Only for a 6'4" soldier in a skull mask, wielding a cup of tea, to jump out at you from behind.

You screamed, stumbling back in a state of panicked confusion, about to cry out for Simon when you came to your senses and realised that the masked intruder was Simon.

He stood there, laughing his ass off, until he realised that you were obviously very on edge and a little bit teary eyed.

"C’mere…" he sighed, placing down his tea to take you into his arms, "i’m sorry, baby girl, please don’t cry…" Your heart was racing and you were debating whether or not to slap him, but you knew he didn’t mean to upset you. And you were happy so long as he made up for it.

Soap Mactavish claims that he’s not scared of anything. Nooo, no way, he’s not scared. He’s so not scared that he’s looking away and squeezing your hand.

Poor guy is so easily jumpscared, it makes you giggle.

"You sure this i’nt going t’be too scary for you, bonnie?" he coos, placing an arm around your shoulder as he half-watches the film that has plunged into a strange silence. He’s definitely trying (and failing) to be subtle as he flexed his muscular arms a little bit, in an attempt to show off.

"Oh yeah, don’t worry," you nod sweetly, smiling up at him.

"I’m just saying, angel, if you need to bury your head into my chest, or if you can’t look, then that’s okay, you just go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’m a soldier, I could easily take on any- Shit! Fucking hell!" he jumps, squealing and then clearing his throat in a poor attempt to disguise it.

"You sure this isn’t going to be too scary for you, bonnie baby..?" you tease, kissing his cheek.

"Lay off it," he pouts, blushing a little bit as he nuzzles his face into your hair.

Alsoooo Johnny is a fiend for feeling you up when you’re watching a film together. He sees it as a perfect opportunity to get to know his pretty lass a little bit better.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick’s favourite part of movie night is the food. He loves takeaway (he’s definitely a Nando’s lover) but his absolute favourite food is your home cooking. When he was asked his favourite food when he was younger, he was always the one kid who would say "whatever my mum makes!" and now he’s an adult it’s just the same, but "whatever my girlfriend makes!" Whenever he realises you’re going to watch a film, whether you invited him or not, he will call out to you from the other room to "HOLD ON!" as he grabs snacks and drinks for the two of you.

Gaz isn’t too easily creeped out, but it happens. He’ll never admit that it’s because he was scared, but you’ve definitely noticed him ‘accidentally’ leaving the hallway light on. If it wasn’t an ‘accident’, then he obviously did it so that you wouldn’t feel scared in the night. He probably realises that you can see right through him, but you always say you believe him, just to make him feel better.

Kyle’s favourite horror movie series is Paranormal Activity, because it’s a so-bad-it’s-good kind of thing. He loves sitting in bed, eating popcorn, with you in his lap, laughing til you cry at all his jokes about how horrendously made the films are. Once, he was taking the piss out of how bad the film you were watching was and then immediately got jumpscared. He even let out a weird noise in shock - he didn’t hear the end of it for weeks.

Even if he’s not cuddling you as close as possible, Gaz loves to rouch you, usually by holding you with one arm as you rest your head on his shoulder. He is a serial thigh-squeezer.

John Price is a total dad, and that extends to when you can convince him to watch one of your favourite films with you. He wants to watch the movie, it’s not his fault if he falls asleep 15 minutes in every single time.

He lets you lay on his broad chest, that’s warm and rises and fall under your head, while he rests his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. He’s prone to snoring, too - in past, you’ve had to rewind the film because you missed part of it while you were trying to get him to wake up and shut up. The only sureproof way to wake him up is to try and move off of him - he’ll open one eye and grumble at you, as he pulls you right back into him.

"You’re not even watching the film, you’re asleep…" you whine, looking up at him.

"’M watching, love. Shhh," he mumbles, eyes still closed as he softly pats your hair.

"Are not," you pout.

"Shhh. ‘M trying to watch this," he hushes you, eyes closed and totally ready to go back to sleep. You’re almost annoyed at him but he makes that very hard, breathing softly through that moustache as he presses you against him, like you’re a teddy or a weighted blanket.

In terms of the films himself, Price isn’t easily scared (partly helped by the fact that he spends half of the time asleep). The first time that you two watched something scary together, he was almost expecting you to be terrified, but he was pleasantly surprised when you weren’t. He thinks it’s funny how you can sit in his lap perfectly happy and watch something that would have any ‘sensible’ (as he puts it) girl screaming.

He either gets very irritated by the main characters making terrible decisions and getting themselves into trouble, or finds it hilarious. He also loves to rub your feet while you watch the movie, literal princess treatment.

i kind of want to watch a horror movie nowwww

all pictures are from the game or from pinterest as far as i’m aware

i hope this was ok for you!!! i know it’s not exactly what you wanted but maybe we can just consider it part 1 of the horror obsessed reader saga >:)

masterlist

[bvidzsoo]

Your desire

⬦Sugar daddy!Seonghwa⬦

TW: suggestive

Word count: 3,9k

A/N: I hate the grip Ateez has on me, I have never ever written so many drabbles or whatever, I'm a long story kinda gal but here they are...torturing me. Anyways, Seonghwa went ahead and posted on IG today and when I saw him my mind instantly went omg that's some sugar daddy vibes, idk why, don't ask, thank you. Feedback is very much so appreciated! Enjoy!

            I really would have never imagined a year ago that I would be attending such an event like this one. It was even shocking to myself. But it looked like I was the only one who felt out of place as the people surrounding me seemed to know each other as they indulged in small talk and friendly chatter as if they were old friends catching up. The silky dress felt too tight against my skin and I couldn’t help but pull on it, hoping by some miracle that it would loosen up and wouldn’t wrap around my ribs as it was trying to suffocate me. The little golden purse I clutched in my hands tightly was expensive, too expensive, an item I could’ve never afforded by myself. I wasn’t into fancy things, so even if I could’ve afforded it at some point in life, I still wouldn’t have purchased it. The faces of people seemed to merge into one as I took a sip of my champagne, smiling politely when the older man next to me pointed his glass in my direction before taking a sip himself. I wished I were invisible, but the red dress and the red matching lips only placed me in the spotlight. And if it weren’t for my outfit, being by the side of Park Seonghwa, a successful and young CEO, definitely put me in the spotlight. I could feel the curious gazes of men and women alike, even the envy as some whispered as Seonghwa and I glided through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. He said he needed something strong, perhaps some whiskey, as the people around us were giving him a headache. Currently, we were conversing with an elderly pair who were big names in the makeup industry, Choi San having joined us not too long ago. He was a rising CEO, almost always in the spotlight, as his magazine was becoming bigger and bigger, visited by more and more celebrities lately. He was Seonghwa’s biggest competitor, constantly challenging him publicly and often mentioning him when it had nothing to do with Seonghwa. Choi San liked to provoke people and taunt, living off of the hate and attention directed his way. I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to spot all these things, it was clear as day as he flashed his white teeth in the direction of the elderly pair, bragging about last month’s issue and how much money it made. The elderly pair didn’t seem too impressed, but they congratulated him before diverting their attention back onto Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for San to stop his theatrics. If I wouldn’t have known Seonghwa so well, I would’ve never known he was irritated, his jaw barely clenched, grip just a little too tight on his glass of champagne. I quietly cleared my throat, getting his attention. His round eyes watched me, face devoid of any emotion, but the glimmer in his eyes assured me that he was feeling fine. I offered him a small smile and his cheeks twitched before he looked away, focusing back on the elderly pair. They were laughing about something I didn’t bother paying attention to, eyes falling on an already staring Choi San as I took another sip of my champagne. It almost made me choke; I couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, but I only had eyes for Seonghwa. At least for now.

“I’ve heard about the deal you made with an American firm,” San spoke up with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in Seonghwa’s direction, “Congratulations, breaking through on the American market isn’t something easy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, but it lacked humor, “San, when I made my breakthrough on the American market you were still running around, trying to find a headquarter for your company.”

The elderly pair laughed at the very harmless jab, but San’s smirk slightly faded, annoyed by Seonghwa’s comeback. He was probably right, but I wouldn’t know, I have never been interested in their world of business.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” The sudden shift of conversation made me tense as the eyes of four people fell on me, San’s a little hungrier than the rest. I forced a smile on my face, grip tightening on the glass of champagne. I wished the dress didn’t show as much cleavage as it did, and that my hair wasn’t in a low bun, unable to cover my shoulders, “Isn’t that necklace—”

“The latest Saint Laurent Teardrop Chain Links Necklace?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his whiskey, “It is, San. And it’s custom made.”

San’s eyes fell back one me and I cleared my throat, feeling awkward, as the elderly lady eyed me a little bit suspiciously, I felt obliged to speak up, “It’s not something I usually wear, but Seonghwa insisted.”

“I think I have seen that dress on a magazine cover, not too long ago.” The elderly lady noted, eyes narrowed at me. I felt like they could tell how poor I actually was compared to them. It felt like a paper with the words ‘intruder’ was glued to my back and everyone was staring, pointing their fingers at me, or whispering vile things. I gulped, but before I could speak up, I felt an arm sneak around my shoulders, squeezing my arm lightly.

“You have seen it right, then, Mrs. Eom, it was on my magazine.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, sending me a wink which made me slightly blush. The day he saw it on the mannequin he sent me a picture and texted me that he’d get it for me. I refused, because it was truly too much and it also cost a lot, and also, I didn’t really have a fitting event where I would wear it to. So, I guess Seonghwa had to do something about that and that’s how I was dragged along to this fundraiser for disabled people. This wasn’t something which had been in the contract I have signed two months ago, but I didn’t dare bring it up when Seonghwa showed up to my apartment in the morning, holding two designer boxes and a designer paper bag. He said he didn’t have time to have breakfast with me, but he expected to see me in the evening, wearing everything he handed me. Before I could accept or refuse him, he was running off, phone at his ear as he spoke to someone important. I could only sigh and hope for a dinner in a very fancy restaurant, instead I found myself at a place infested with very important and insanely rich people. I was sure I even saw the prime minister like half an hour ago.

“Oh, delightful!” Mrs. Eom exclaimed, but no emotion came through her voice, eyes watching me almost accusingly. Why did an old hag have beef with me when she didn’t even know me? Before I could say something inappropriate, Seonghwa gave my shoulder another squeeze, swiftly taking his arm off my body. He seemed to know me well too, a glance at my face and he was able to tell what I was feeling and thinking. We hadn’t spent too much time together in these past two months, but it felt like we understood each other on a deeper level, beyond words even. I looked around as the orchestra started playing, the front of the room slightly clearing as people made place for those dancing. My eyes fell back onto Seonghwa, and as his eyes were trained somewhere else, I dared staring at him openly. He was an absolutely gorgeous man, breathtaking even. His black hair was slicked back with three strands framing the right side of his face, longer strands than the others poking around on his nape. His shoulders were relaxed yet his posture was straight and proper. His silky black shirt, with three buttons undone at the top, was tucked inside his black dress pants, an Yves Saint Laurent belt keeping his outfit together. The black velvet coat reached just bellow his thighs and his Yves Saint Laurent shoulder bag had been disregarded a while ago at the table we sat at. Despite my obvious staring, Seonghwa remained oblivious to it, however, San didn’t. His eyes were narrowed and lips pulled into a grin as we made eye contact. My cheeks burned and I quickly averted my eyes. Catching feelings wasn’t written into the contract, or what would happen if Seonghwa and I did fall for each other, a thing which was far from happening. I wasn’t in love with him, but I had eyes, and I found him extremely attractive. Whether he was dressed up or wore something casual, Seonghwa always looked spectacular. As a waiter passed with a tray in their hands, San quickly placed his empty glass on it and cleared his throat, interlacing his hands in front of himself.

“Miss Y/N, may I have the honor to dance with you first tonight?” San’s eyebrows were raised as he looked at me with a smirk and I stared at him without a reaction. Was I allowed to dance with him? Seonghwa was right next to me, he certainly wouldn’t like that. And I didn’t want to dance with him either, he sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable with his unnecessary comments and over the top compliments. But before anyone could interject, San took two steps towards me and then grabbed my left hand carefully, a smile erupting on his face, “Come.”

And before I could refuse him, he was pulling me after himself, making me hand my purse over to Seonghwa in a hurry as San lead the way to the dance floor. I felt awkward as curious eyes watched us, some people greeting San as we passed by. His grip turned firm and I could feel my palm get sweaty as I braced myself for what was to come. It couldn’t be that bad, besides, I would only dance with him for a short amount of time before I would excuse myself to the bathroom in hopes of getting away from him. San stopped in the center, facing me with a charming smile, sharp eyes watching me closely. I cleared my throat and placed my hand on his shoulder, allowing his hand on my lower back to pull me closer towards himself. I slightly tensed, but willed myself to relax in his arms. I didn’t quite enjoy dancing with Seonghwa’s competitor and biggest rival, especially not when I knew how much distaste Seonghwa had towards San.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Y/N,” San spoke up as he swayed us to the slow beat of the orchestra, “I didn’t think you’d attend such an event.”

San didn’t know what type of relationship was between Seonghwa and I, but he has seen us together quite often, always bugging Seonghwa whether I was his girlfriend or not. I most certainly wasn’t.

“It came as a surprise to me as well.” I admitted quietly, focusing on not stepping on San’s feet or on my own dress. The high heels were also slightly uncomfortable, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every move I made.

“So, Seonghwa didn’t plan on bringing you along, huh?” A satisfied smirk made it onto San’s face and I sighed, looking over his shoulder.

“He most certainly did since I’m here, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but slightly snap, sending him the smallest glare as we made eye contact.

“Of course,” San chuckled, pulling his eyebrows up, “he wouldn’t want to leave behind his eye candy.”

His comment didn’t sit well with me, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let it go, not wanting to give San the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed. He waited a few more seconds, probably thinking I was formulating my answer, but when the silence continued to stretch on, San chuckled to himself, looking amused as I dared take a glance at him.

“Everything you’re wearing tonight is quite expensive, isn’t it?” He continued, eyes running over my frame. It certainly felt uncomfortable as I could easily spot the lust in them as his eyes stayed a little too long on my exposed collarbones.

“Yes, they were expensive.” I hummed, looking over his shoulder when San glanced at my face.

“Bought them yourself?” His tone feigned innocence, but the smirk on his lips made it obvious that he was prodding and jabbing, “Didn’t think a university student could afford all of these things, to be honest.”

I gulped as my throat felt suddenly dry, heartrate picking up. Of course I couldn’t afford what I was wearing tonight, two months ago I could barely pay rent and the tuition fees for my course at the university. Seonghwa seemed like an angel in disguise at the time, however, lately I’ve been feeling guilty for accepting all of his money instead of trying to make some myself. In my defense, my itinerary was so packed I could barely find a place which would hire me even half norm, it was frustrating.

“Some of these were gifts.” I opted to answer, clearing my throat when San’s fingers slightly dug into my lower back, pulling me even closer to himself. Our bodies were almost touching, his musky scent invaded my nostrils. I certainly didn’t like it.

“You know,” He spoke up again, eyebrows furrowed, “Seonghwa is quite known for changing partners after like…half a year, I guess his standards are too high or something. Unless…”

My heartbeat paused for a second as I looked San in the eyes, “Unless, you’re not his girlfriend but his whore—”

“I think you’ve spent enough time with Y/N for a lifetime, Choi San.” The sudden harsh voice made me flinch as I carefully peeled myself away from San, heart beating like crazy as I turned my head. I was met with a furious looking Seonghwa, kind eyes pulled into slits as he glared San down, jaw clenched. I noticed the people around us glancing our way, and when my eyes fell on San his chest was puffed out and eyes challenging as he stared down the taller man.

“Seonghwa,” I whispered and curled my fingers around his bicep, getting his attention, “He’s not worth causing a scene, let it go.”

His eyes bore into mine as I heard San scoff at my words, but before he could open his annoying mouth and say something else, Seonghwa gripped the hand I had around his bicep and peeled it off, hand slipping to my wrist as he turned around and took off, steps hurried. I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels and even ran into someone, having to hastily apologize as Seonghwa wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I noticed the direction we were storming in, the restrooms. I gulped and realized Seonghwa was angry and needed time away from everyone, probably to give me a lecture and break off the contract we had. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask for the money back; I couldn’t remember if that was a clause or not in the contract. We rounded the corner and Seonghwa kicked the door of the restroom open with his foot, shoulders raising and falling rapidly as we entered the men’s restroom. A guy, who looked like security, was washing his hands, pausing when he noticed us.

“Sir—”

“Get out.” Seonghwa’s voice was low as he glared at the poor security guard, who seemed to be speechless for a few seconds.

“This is the men’s restroom—”

“And I said, get out.” Seonghwa emphasized his words again, staring daggers at the unbudging security guard, seemingly a glaring match breaking out between them. My nerves were rising, and I tapped my heel against the floor, biting my lower lip when nobody moved.

“Seonghwa.” I called out for him, but he didn’t look away from the security guard. However, the man broke his staring contest and looked at me, taken aback.

“Park Seonghwa?” He asked amazed and as I nodded, he quickly bowed his head and scurried out, making me let out a long sigh. My shoulders slouched forward as I pulled my hand out of Seonghwa’s, which made him whirl around and look at me with a sharp stare. I gulped and suddenly felt small underneath his eyes as his fury was directed at me only.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dance with San, but I don’t think I had much of a chance,” I found myself explaining quickly, “And I didn’t want to cause a scene which would damage your reputation.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before releasing it, jaw clenching, “You’re not my whore, Y/N, you’re my sugar baby.”

I bit my lower lip, the term still making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. I looked at the floor as Seonghwa sighed loudly again, realizing that he was angry at San and not me, having overheard his words.

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered as I saw Seonghwa’s polished shoes come into view as I was still looking down.

“You didn’t want to come tonight and I forced you into coming, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he looked guilty as I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t force me, what are you talking about?” I asked confused.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were feeling all night.” He explained, playing with the rings on his fingers, “I also should’ve chosen a dress less revealing knowing your preferences, I’m sorry for that too—”

“Seonghwa, this dress is gorgeous!” I said with a chuckle as I pointed at it, hands shimmying down my hips, “Albeit a bit too revealing, and too expensive, but it’s beautiful and I appreciate your gesture, I hope you know that. Regardless of how I’ve been feeling tonight.”

Seonghwa gulped and took a step closer, eyes running over my frame before he looked back up into my eyes, “You are gorgeous, not the dress, Y/N. That’s just a piece of fabric.”

My cheeks flushed at his words and I averted my eyes shyly, feeling Seonghwa’s soft fingers grip my chin as he made me look at him again. He stepped even closer and his warmth wrapped around me, fruity scent enveloping me and making me shiver. Seonghwa certainly noticed as he studied my face for a reaction, but I was trying hard to contain the fluster I was feeling and my frantic heartbeat.

“Our contract is coming to an end next month,” Seonghwa whispered, as if he was afraid anyone would hear us, there was nobody but us inside the spacious and marble covered restroom, “Let’s extend it for another six months.”

“Six months?” I asked surprised, remembering well that Seonghwa’s contracts only lasted for three months. He hummed and nodded as he closed the gap between our bodies, tilting my head slightly up. It was rare that he stood so close and held me so boldly. We were rarely physical with each other, the occasional hand holding and kisses on the cheeks happened when I was feeling down or Seonghwa was feeling tired, and we made out a couple of times here and there when we were drunk. The contract made it clear that everything had to be consensual and if one person refused, it shouldn’t be brought up until they were ready to talk about it or made it obvious that they wanted it to happen. Seonghwa was a respectful and well-mannered man, there were few others like him, if none at all. My lips slightly parted as Seonghwa’s eyes fell on my lips and I closed my eyes when he started leaning in slowly, lips pressing against mine carefully, experimentally. It was so light that if I were to pull away, it felt like it never happened, but instead, I pressed myself firmly against him, Seonghwa’s hand coming to hold the side of my face. Our lips moved slowly against each other, testing, searching, savoring the other’s lips. My hands rested against his chest as his free hand went to hold my waist, slowly slipping to the place where San held onto earlier, my lower back. This time, goosebumps erupted on my skin and I slightly shuddered against Seonghwa as his long fingers dug into my skin, his lips picking up pace. I matched his feverish kisses, desperately wanting to tangle my fingers into the hair against his nape, but not wanting to mess up his hairstyle, so instead, I gripped the collar of his velvet coat, my other hand going around his shoulder. Seonghwa pulled me into himself totally, chests pressing together painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, carefully pressing his tongue against my mouth. I understood what he wanted and parted my lips for him, granting him access as he tilted my head up even more, hands clutching onto me firmly, his tongue carefully exploring my warm mouth. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking, and cherry. He loved cherry candies; he had probably eaten one not long before. My nose pushed against his cheek as our tongues tangled together, lapping at each other, a fire ignited inside me as my hand slipped up to his nape. Before I could second guess myself, I allowed my fingers to tangle into the short strands and I tugged on them, Seonghwa’s hand abruptly slipping down to my ass as he gave it a firm squeeze, making me gasp into his mouth. He took that momentum to suck on my tongue and suddenly my knees felt weak from the lack of air, but not just. I could devour him right here, but that wasn’t very lady like, nor too smart. Anyone could enter the restroom anytime. And despite the urgency in Seonghwa’s kiss, he sucked on my lower lip as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine. He was panting and I had to wipe the corner of my mouth as saliva threatened to drip down.

“Let’s do six months.” I rasped out, in the process of catching my breath. As I opened my eyes, I watched as Seonghwa’s teeth was attached to his plump lower lip, a deep hum leaving his throat as he agreed with my final answer.

“Good, I’ve still got a lot to offer to you.” He said as he opened his eyes and a smile instantly appeared on his lips. And then, his finger was rubbing underneath my lower lip and the corner of my mouth, chuckling as my own eyes fell onto Seonghwa’s unnaturally red lips. It made me blush as I allowed him to fix me up, hand giving my ass another squeeze, making me gasp as I jumped. The amused smile disappeared from his lips as a pleased smirk took its place.

“Let’s dance?” He asked and I nodded wordlessly, mesmerized by his voice and eyes as Seonghwa took a step back, hands falling from my body as I detached myself from him too, gulping nervously. He extended a hand and I placed my palm in his, fingers intertwining as he lead us towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind having Seonghwa as my sugar daddy for another six months, not if he would kiss me again and again like he kissed me tonight.

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