#but not too hard he's just a little bit stupid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wooataes · 2 days ago

Text

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part 11)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, all hurt no comfort, swearing, tears, the usual 🙂‍↕️

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been WAY too long since I've updated this story and I apologise for that 🙂‍↕️ I finally feel like I've gotten my life back on track to finally be able to post a long awaited update!! Thank you to everyone who still reads and enjoys my fics, it means a lot ! 🥹 - Tae 💜🌸✨

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Ask to be added to my taglist!

��Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“His girlfriend left him, genius. What do you think is wrong with him?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His housemates have as much subtlety as an earthquake. Their naturally loud voices seep through the closed door of his bedroom as he stares at his ceiling, a sigh leaving his lungs in the darkness as the outside voices drone on.

“Hyung,” Mingyu sighs. “It’s been over a week now… Should we call someone?”

“Who would we call?” Junhui retorts. “His soulmate? Because up until last week, I thought his soulmate was Ji-ah.”

The mention of her name creates another pit in Jihoon’s stomach. He hates it. He wishes he could just get over the stupid emotions that run through his veins at the mere thought of his not-soulmate, now also not-girlfriend.

“His parents are hours away and he has no siblings that we can contact.” Junhui continues, frustration laced in his voice. “I don’t know who we could call.”

“Doesn’t hyung have a cousin who-”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying. You know that, right?”

Jihoon’s hard voice carries through the door, his housemates falling silent on the other end.

“Jihoon-ah.” A deep voice mutters, causing him to tense up. He knows that Wonwoo knows how to get through to him. “Can we talk?”

After a long pause, Jihoon’s bedroom door slightly creaks open. “Wonwoo, I told you yesterday,” he stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the older man. “I am fine-”

“You are not, Jihoon-ah. And we both know it.”

“How do you know?” He snips.

“You haven’t left your bedroom since Ji-ah left you last week.” Jihoon sucks his teeth at her name.

“I never left my bedroom before she left me.” He hisses back.

“Yes, you did.” Wonwoo retorts back.

“When? To go on dates with her?” he barks. “To take her out? To go visit her family? Well, guess what? She is gone, Wonwoo, so I have a whole lot more free time and I choose to spend that time at home.” his voice cracks slightly, bottom lip shaking as he moves to close the door once more, his frown deepening as Mingyu grabs a hold of the door before it closes.

“Hyung, we’re sorry.” Mingyu’s voice is softer now as he looks at him with sad eyes. “We’re so fucking sorry that you’re going through this but we are here for you and want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Please don’t push us away.” Wonwoo frowns, his hand resting over Jihoons. “Jihoon-ah…”

Jihoon shakes his head quietly, a small hiccup leaving his lips. “Wonwoo, I promise, I’m fine.” He gently lets his hand fall from Wonwoo’s as he moves to shut the door to his bedroom once more, wiping the stray tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.

“I truly don’t know what to do, guys.” Jihoon winces at the defeated tone of his older housemate’s voice as he climbs back into the comfort of his bed once more, hoping to forget about the world around him for a little bit longer.

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh as he steps into his first Film Studies class in nearly two weeks, slumping down in his chair, rubbing at his temples slightly as Professor Park begins his usual droning on. He really should be listening to the lecture at hand, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can feel the eyes of multiple people in the class lingering on him. He’s sure that word has gotten around now about his very public dumping and the fact that Ji-ah was obviously never his soulmate. He hates that he can feel the sympathy radiating off of his peers, and even off of you, his real soulmate, sitting directly beside him with your stupid perfect hair and stupidly neat notes that you wordlessly offered him to help catch him up on the classes he missed. He accepts them graciously, spending most of the lesson copying your notes into his notebook.

“Professor,” a deep voice from the back of the room calls out near the end of the lesson, drawing Jihoon from his thoughts.

“Yes, Jaebeom?”

Your soulmate glances at you at the sight of your body tensing up at the mention of the newcomer’s name. He tilts his head slightly as he feels nerves begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach from you, causing him to raise a brow. You take a slow breath before scribbling idly on your page again, indifference on your face, but Jihoon knows it’s a front.

Why are you so tense?

“About the extension on our group project?” Jaebeom’s voice lulls out in a drawl, a clear cockiness hidden in his tone.

“Ah yes,” Professor Park hums, nodding his head. “I know some of you have gone ahead and already submitted your essays and presentations to me, and I’m thankful for you guys for getting these to me on time and even earlier. For the remainder of you all who have yet to submit your projects, I’ve extended the deadline by two weeks, due to an unavoidable event I must attend.”

Jihoon hears his classmate’s sighs of relief, and in turn, he breathes out as well. He knew he had neglected his end of his project with you for the last week, and he feels grateful that he can make up for it.

“I do hope the rest of you,” Professor Park sends a look to the back of the room, “get this done in due time. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon wordlessly offers your notebook back to you, a frown forming on his face when he sees you duck your head, letting your hair fall over your face. He glances to see a taller man wearing low jeans and a beat up baseball cap on his head march- no, strut down the stairs to reach the door, sauntering out with what Jihoon can only describe as a sleazy grin on his face. Once he steps out of the room, you immediately collect your things, bow your head to Jihoon with a little smile, and jump up to leave the classroom.

“Professor,” your soulmate approaches the teacher. “I appreciate you extending the deadline-”

“Oh, Jihoon-ssi!” Professor Park smiled. “Are you feeling better? Miss Choi told me that you were unwell when she submitted your project to me last week.”

“Oh.. Yeah, I’m feeling alri- Wait. Submitted?” Jihoon blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Both of your arguments had wonderful points to pit against each other. Well done! I will be posting your grades in a few weeks!”

You finished off the project for him? Why are you so… nice?

“Uh… Thank you, Professor.” Jihoon bows his head in thanks before slowly stepping out of the classroom, starting to walk in the direction of home, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

Jihoon takes a deep sigh as he finds himself sitting down at the park bench that is so familiar to him now, letting the raindrops land on his clothes and face as he tilts his head back.

“Jihoon-ssi?” your voice is quiet over the sound of the loud rain, but Jihoon could hear you. He always does. He blinks as he feels the heavy raindrops that land on his hoodie abruptly stop, looking up to see a pastel umbrella being held over his now drenched body. “What are you doing out here?”

Jihoon shrugs quietly for a moment. “I… don’t know.” He glances down at the wet sleeves of his hoodie. “Just.. Thinking.”

“Well, I think you should think away from a torrential downpour next time,” you quip with a little smile, hoping the joke makes him crack a smile.

“Nah,” he hums. “It’s comforting, the rain..”

“Comforting?” You echo, tilting your head innocently as he hums a confirmation.

“Mm. Rain doesn’t have colour.” He glances at you for a moment, slightly amused by the cluelessness on your face as you just blink at him. “Ah, it’s silly, really,” he continues. “The sky doesn’t have colour when it rains, it reminds me of what the world looked like before everything changed. Everything is so different now.”

“You’re right.” You agree quietly. “Everything is different.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon mumbles after a brief silence. “For helping finish off the project while I was… y’know.”

“Oh, that?” You shrug. “That was nothing. You had all the arguments, I just articulated them for you. Figured that you already had enough on your plate so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I submitted a little early to get it out of the way for the both of us.”

“How do you do it?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“... Live.” Jihoon’s voice is barely above a whisper as you settle down on the park bench beside Jihoon, still holding the umbrella over his head. “How do you just live life so damn happily while you feel like absolute shit all the time? And don’t deny that you don’t, I have felt every single emotion you have felt for weeks now.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky before humming. “I suppose I just got used to it.” You shrug. “It kind of just became like a background noise for me. It’s just always there.”

“Even when the pain is doubled now? Because of me?”

You shrug once more. “It’s not something I haven’t dealt with before. I can feel the pain for both of us, Jihoon-ssi. It’s okay.” You give him a little smile. “I have had a lot more practice at loss than you have.”

Jihoon feels the irritation bubbling up inside him slowly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You blink in confusion as you glance at him. “Huh?”

“I have experienced loss too, you know.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I am more than capable of feeling these emotions too.” He frowns.

“I know,” you emphasize, “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to face them on your own.”

Jihoon scoffs quietly. Who does she think she is, giving him advice on how to deal with his emotions? “I know that too. You don’t need to point out the obvious, Choi.”

“Do you know that?” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what Mingyu told me, you’ve barely left your room until this week.”

“Ugh,” Jihoon groans, leaning his head back. “Am I not allowed to have time to myself?”

“Of course you are,” you sigh. “But you’re also-”

“You know, you should think about facing your emotions on your own instead of relying on everyone else around you.” Jihoon hisses at you with a glare as you freeze with wide eyes.

“H-huh?” He can feel your doubt seeping into his veins.

“Your brother, his soulmate, Soonyoung, Seokmin,” he rambles. “They’re always at your beck and call when they could be living their own lives with each other and not have to worry about you every five fucking minutes like you’re their child.”

“I…” You balk, Jihoon wincing at the feeling of your stomach twisting inside him. But he doesn't care, he wants you to hurt as much as he does. It’s your fault he doesn’t have Ji-ah anymore, afterall.

“Just go away!” He barks. “When will you realize that your help isn’t needed?! You’re not needed! I lost the one girl I truly fucking loved because of YOU! Why would I want you around?! Leave me alone already!”

After a long silence, Jihoon finally turns his head to look at you, staring at him for what seems like hours with the same look that you had on the day you brushed hands for the first time. That isn’t what frightens your soulmate, though. What frightens him is the fact that he can’t feel anything inside him anymore, besides his own pain.

“... sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” You mumble robotically, delicately placing the umbrella beside him before rising and walking through the heavy rain in the direction of your house, letting the rain run down your clothes.

“Fuck.” Jihoon sighs heavily and buries his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears your footsteps move further and further away.

He needs to apologize. He knows he does. He knows he said those words out of anger and hurt, and he knows you definitely didn’t deserve it.

But why can’t he find it in himself to go to you and do it? You’re literally two tables away from him right now.

Jihoon, he scolds himself, it’s been days. You need to man up and tell her you’re sorry.

Could he be worrying a little now because since he confronted you, he has felt no emotions whatsoever from you? Has he finally lost the tether from you?

“Hello you!!” A loud, cheery voice snaps him into reality. He blinks as he stares at his cup of ramen in his hand, fidgeting on the hard steel of the cafeteria chair underneath him, trying to figure out where the loud voice had come from.

Seungkwan makes his way over to where you’re sitting, draping himself over your back. Before he can ask how you are, you jolt up quickly, scooting away from him like you’ve been burned.

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, pressing yourself up against the wall. “Where’s Hansol? You should be with Hansol.”

Seungkwan’s face contorts slightly as he sticks his lips out in almost a pout. “He had to run to make his next class… Bug, what’s wrong-”

“I actually have to run too, Kwan.” You stammer out quickly, grabbing your backpack and stepping out from behind the table. “Talk later?”

“But, you haven’t even touched your lunch…” his voice fades out as he watches you rush quickly out of the cafeteria, surprise etched on his face.

Jihoon watches on, just as surprised as Seungkwan as he reaches the table with him, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Okay, what the hell was that? What happened to Bug?” Seungkwan immediately questions Soonyoung, who upon further inspection, looks just as out of it as you are.

“We don’t know,” Seokmin speaks for his soulmate. “Every time she’s at home, she stays locked up in her room and only leaves to cook dinner for us and clean up. She didn’t even come down for movie night the other night.”

Your soulmate’s eyes widened slightly as Soonyoung took a deep breath. “Something has happened and she won’t tell us what. She doesn’t even speak when she’s at home anymore.”

“We’ve tried to talk to her, get her to come out of her room, do anything, but she doesn’t budge. I’m getting worried.” Seokmin bites his lip.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened to our Bug. She is literally just doing fucking chores and whenver one of us tries to hang out..” your best friend rubs at his temples. “She keeps insisting we hang out with our soulmates. With each other. I don’t know why the fuck that doesn’t mean she can’t hang out with us too.”

Jihoon feels sick as your housemate’s words sink in to him.

When will you realize your help isn’t needed? You’re not needed!

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Jihoon-ah.” Wonwoo breathes out when Jihoon finally steps through the door. “You were supposed to be back four hours ago. What the hell were you- Jihoon-ah?”

His eyes widened at the sight of his housemate stepping under the lights of the hallway, lip trembling and hair sticking in six different directions. Jihoon truly didn’t mean to take so long making it home. He supposes he lost track of time wandering campus with his racing mind.

He knew his words had gotten to you. At the moment it felt good, for you to feel the pain he did. But now? Seeing his friends, your family agonizing over how detached you are?

What has he done?

“Jihoon…” Junhui looks on worriedly, reaching forward to slip the backpack off his housemate’s shoulders.

“I… I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date her, Wonwoo.” His voice quivers as he stares at the ground. “I knew that she already had a soulmate, but… I-I didn’t think…”

“Of course you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees.

“She told me that he had moved countries years ago… There was no chance he’d come back…” a small tear slides down his cheek as his housemate hums in acknowledgement. “And when I… when I found my soulmate and I-” Jihoon chokes back a sob. “And I rejected them to keep a hold of Ji-ah…” His soft cries echo into the quiet hallway. “I… I felt their heart break inside of me, I’ve felt their pain for weeks a-and now I feel their pain on top of my own and… fuck, I broke her, man.”

“Oh, Jihoon…” Junhui sighs sympathetically as Wonwoo pulls Jihoon towards him, bringing his head into his shoulder as his arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace.

Jihoon pauses for a moment. He blinks once, twice, and a third time before he lets out a soft sob, his hands gripping onto Wonwoo’s shoulders desperately as he buries his face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung,” he chokes out. “I r-really fucked up.”

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@vixensss @hemmingsness @lizzymizzy-blog @kawennote09 @breakfastburritosattiffanys @im-gemmy @friendlywraith @devinkelsey19 @kameko-ko @mar-627 @Woozieeeee @milopenne @stellauniverse @addicsvt @changbinisms @phenomenalgirl9 @lanatheawesome @maidachi @jeanjacketjesus @sunnynapp @jihanniee @reallyshypost @jaeminsbuckethat @sweetchelly @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @claireleem @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery @sumzysworld @lavayeon @unusuallyshy @woozixo @mirxzii @mhlsymlysn @seventeenthingsblr @kwanniesboo @loomsuhcats @markleehee @scuzmunkie @tumblerluvver @wooanghae @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @comingupwithacoolnameishard @whorecore-world @sana-is-ms-rmty @bitterbluemorningstar @reverieisntready @gaslysainz @softforyoongles @artemisdoe @studykaystudy @kpopishealing @kyrojackson @winchestersllama @palmsugr @j0j11 @cookiearmy @lateforlatte @eisaspresso

Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @lisaaaaamanobannn @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jovialpartyneckoaf @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sarahisupset @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @ateez-atiny

#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee Jihoon angst #seventeen au

141 notes · View notes

itsabouttimex2 · 1 day ago

Note

Not a request, just blabbering about the “not the beloved au” because. God. Poor MK. Obviously, y/n is the one suffering the most from the dynamic, but MK’s development is being stunted by the way the two kings are raising him. Never being told no, having everything and everyone live their life to accommodate around him- sure he’s still a toddler, they’re going to be stupid, but he’s resorting to hurting himself when he doesn’t get what he wants (ie Y/N, a whole person!) that is very troubling behavior.

I’d hate to see how he’d be grown up- he’d definitely still be a hero- he IS a good kid, he’d want to help people- but what happens if he’s not able to beat someone in a fight immediately or he’s outmatched? How much of him fighting would just make things worse because he’s used to the world bending over backwards to make him happy?

Poor kid.

Not The Beloved

Anon, I'm so glad you brought this up, because on surface level, NTB!MK is a little entitled menace. But when you take a moment to scratch past that unfortunate facade, then... well, yeah. He is a victim all in his own right, hard as it may be to see from a certain viewpoint. The only world MK knows is his own family and their home- his two dads, Y/N, the Flower Fruit Mountain monkeys, and the mountain itself.

The end. No school. No friends. Nothing.

And that's just the way his dads like it! Sun Wukong likes that his kiddo is isolated, stunted, socially awkward and somewhat entitled! That just makes him easier to spoil! Easier to love! And Macaque, too! If he helps to custom-cater a world that his beloved baby boy can't survive outside of? Then MK can't leave, and thus can never escape his love and care!

Which is exactly why MK needs the reader.

In spite of being everything that the little kid is not, Y/N's startling normality is the only grounding factor that MK has to let him know that something is wrong. Because Y/N didn't have the upbringing that their little brother had, they have a legitimate claim to being the least mentally-skewed of the family, which is, unsurprisingly, one hell of a boon.

Like, MK has it great... at first. Never Having to do chores or make your own food, and having your overbearing daddies brush your teeth and tie your shoes for you is awesome when you're four, but sucks ass when you're twelve and can barely function outside your role as a spoiled prince-

But! There's still Y/N!

Frustrated, jealous, and angry Y/N. Y/N, who seethes and huffs and kicks their feet and grits their teeth and punches their pillow into pulpy fluff, who curses under their breath and has to burn all the letters they write about how much they despise their family. Y/N who was only spared punishment after the scraps of those letters were found because MK cried and begged for his daddies to forgive his older sibling because-

Because Y/N, in spite of their jealously and anger, will still roll up both sleeves, sit down, and teach their little brother how to tie his shoes, how to roll up a tube of toothpaste to squeeze the last bit out, how to boil water and brown meat.

There's this normalcy to being hated by someone that anchors MK to reality, even though he's a little too young and naive to really put his grateful feelings into words, so instead it all manifests as "Y/N is my favorite person ever and ever!" that Wukong and Macaque don't like (because they are both horribly jealous) but will force Y/N to reciprocate.

And even when his beloved older sibling bullies their parents into coughing up the necessary resources in order to head off to college, MK keeps in touch with the phones he begs both his fathers to buy, and manages to maneuver them both into two strict "buts".

Specifically, "You can go off to college, but you have to keep in touch with us and MK." and "We'll foot the bill, but you have to come back and stay here during the weekends."

Which is... enough. Enough of a thread cut loose that Y/N slips free to experience at least a mildly normal life pursuing their desired field with some actual space to grow and heal and establish normal relationships outside of their toxic family.

(Even though they're definitely becoming the mom/dad friend.)

Then there's the matter of "How good of a hero will MK be without his good-natured upbringing, courtesy of Pigsy and Tang?" that you brought up, and the answer to that question is: "Don't worry about it, because MK doesn't get to be a hero."

After all, why would his dads risk losing their miracle baby?

So it isn't even "Would MK ditch a fight or otherwise give up on it when he struggles?", it's "Can Y/N bare-knuckle Red Son's cute face into pulp with only their long suppressed rage as fuel?" because MK isn't the hero of NTB- Y/N is.

And they don't ever intend on losing the new life they fought to find.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Yandere MK #Red Son #Not The Beloved

87 notes · View notes

atleastpleasetelephone · 2 days ago

Text

Sharing

A/N: This is my one year anniversary of writing fanfiction for Elvis! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my posts, enjoyed reading my stories, helped me with ideas and proof-read my work. To celebrate, I've written this sequel to Dolly. It is absolutely unbridled filth, PWP, a smutfest etc.

Pairings: Dom!Elvis x Dolly!Reader

Joe x Dolly!Reader

Jerry x Dolly!Reader

Sonny x Dolly!Reader

Word count: 3.8K

TWs: Dolification, objectification, Elvis is dominant and reader is very submissive, dubcon, possessive kink, praise kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, little bit of choking, gangbang/orgy, name-calling/demeaning language, reader is fucked stupid, kind of size kink, copious amounts of cum.

You’re sitting in your bedroom, carefully brushing your long blonde hair when you hear Joe start talking to Elvis. Your door is half-open and you can sometimes hear things the guys talk about in the living room, but this seems unusually clear.

“That little girl of yours was sounding real fun the other night.”

Your ears prick up at his mention of you and you try to lean slightly closer to the door.

Elvis laughs. “You been listenin’?”

“Hard not to, the noise she was makin’.” That’s Jerry. You wonder how many of the guys are out there.

“What were you doin’ to her, EP?” Sounds like Sonny, although you can’t be sure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Elvis chuckles.

“You uh… you ever think of sharing her, boss?” Joe asks.

There’s a long silence, where you almost fall off your chair from leaning so close to the open door. You cross your legs and rub your thighs together a little. It’s not like you’re interested in Joe, that’s disgusting. But something about the way they are all talking about you is getting you all hot and bothered.

“What about Joan?”

You bite your lip. Elvis hadn’t said no.

“What about her?”

“Well, she not good enough?”

“She doesn't have a body like that. And your girl just seems so… obedient.”

Elvis snorts. “‘Course she is. She’s well-trained.”

“So whaddaya think, boss?” It sounds like Sonny again. “Any chance of, y’know, letting us find out just how obedient she is?”

There’s another long pause, and you wonder what exactly Elvis is considering.

“Maybe.”

You actually do lean too far this time, and when you overbalance you end up dropping your hairbrush on the floor trying to catch yourself.

“Dolly?” Elvis’ smooth baritone calls out to you.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Come in here a minute.”

You take a deep, steadying breath and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re a little flushed already, just from listening to them talk about you, but your make-up is all done nicely and you had almost finished brushing your hair when he called. Smoothing it down, you stand up and check your dress is sitting where it should. Then you open the door and walk across the corridor and into the living room. As you stand in the doorway you look around, realising that you had successfully identified all of the voices, and their owners are now all looking back at you with ill-disguised lust.

“Good girl. Come and sit on Daddy’s lap.”

Elvis is looking particularly good today, his eyes are shining and so is his big, gold belt. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to just above his elbows, and his forearms flex as he grabs either armrest to adjust his sitting position in preparation for you following his instruction.

You walk over slowly, realising as you start to step that you’ve forgotten to put your heels on, so you end up padding across the thickly shagged carpet in just your stockinged feet. Trying not to look at the other men as they look at you, you settle yourself onto Elvis’ lap and feel his hardness pressing against your lower back immediately. Excitement and trepidation bubble in your stomach. He really doesn’t seem like he’s going to say no to sharing you.

“Now Dolly, the guys here have a proposition f’ya,” he tells you as his arms wrap around your waist and hold you to him tightly, his breath tickling your cheek.

There’s an awkward silence in the room, and the men go from openly staring at you to looking nervously at their feet.

“C’mon, guys.” Elvis’ voice is laced with irritation now, “if you want her ya have ta ask her.”

It turns out that Jerry is the brave one, though he looks up at you nervously, the mass of curls on his head bobbing as he swallows hard before finally opening his mouth.

“We were, um… talking about you,” he begins, uncertainly. The other two nod and mumble their agreement, encouraging him to continue. “And um… you’re real pretty and you made some er… real pretty noises the other night.” Jerry is blushing now and you think it makes him look kinda cute.

“And?” Elvis snaps, when the silence after Jerry’s last sentence stretches out for a few minutes.

“And we want to know just how much of a dolly you really are, Dolly,” Joe announces.

You frown. “Oh, Joe. I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you tell him, tilting your head to one side and biting the side of your thumb. You even bat your fake eyelashes for the full effect.

“H-he… um…” Jerry starts up again, looking for all the world like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him. “He wants to know if you’d like to have a little fun with us…” When your facial expression doesn’t change from the exaggerated look of confusion you’d given Joe earlier, Jerry continues. “Like… with our clothes off. Y’know. Would ya like to please us like you please Elvis?” Jerry lets out a big sigh at the end of the sentence, as if he’s just said the most difficult thing ever.

“Oh!” You exclaim, putting a hand to either side of your face and making Elvis chuckle. “But Joe, what about your wife?” The question makes Elvis chuckle all the more.

Joe clears his throat a little awkwardly. “Well. This would just be a one-time thing you know. We wouldn’t need to tell her. Just our little secret, isn’t that right, boss?”

Elvis holds both hands up. “Nothin’ ta do with me, she’s your wife.”

His hands go back to your waist and you lean your head back against his chest a little. Rewarding you with a kiss to the temple, he looks around the room at the three men.

“Think we need some ground rules ‘fore we start.”

“I didn’t say yes!” You find yourself squeaking, sitting upright again in shock.

Another, darker chuckle. “I wanted the guys to ask ya ta be polite. Not ‘cause I wanted yer opinion, Dolly.” Pressing his nose against your face, he kisses your cheek. “Yer jus’ my little doll, ‘member. No opinions of yer own.”

You nod, realisation slowly dawning that you’re in a room with four men who can do whatever they want with you. His lips trail down your neck until his teeth find your collarbone, nibbling it a little before moving off you entirely and looking back at the rest of the room.

“Ground rules,” he reiterates. “She’s my little Dolly. So if I say stop, ya stop, okay?” The three men nod and mumble, “yes boss,” and “yes EP”. “Good,” he replies. “This pretty mouth,” he squeezes your cheeks to make you pout, “and this pretty pussy,” his hand moves to pull your legs apart and give the assembled group a good view of your panties, “are fair game. Her asshole’s mine. So don’t even think about it.”

Elvis waits for all three of them to affirm what he’s just said before continuing. You squirm in his lap under the weight of their gazes, all three trained right between your legs.

“And one more fer you, darlin’,” he coos, turning your head to look at him. “No more thoughts from now on, sweetheart. Want ya ta be a perfect little doll for me and my friends.”

Looking into those bright blue eyes you nod slowly, but you’re not sure. Of course you trust Elvis, but there are a lot of big strong men in this room. Men who could easily overpower you and outnumber him too. Your lower lip wobbles a little. The hand that’s currently cupping your cheek holds it a little more firmly as he looks back at you, seeming to try and see right into the brain you’re supposed to be emptying of thoughts right now.

“Daddy will take care a ya,” he murmurs, eyes flicking over your face, searching for clues. “I won’t let anyone hurt ya, sweetheart.”

The tenderness in his voice almost has you undone without any need for him to touch you. A whimper escapes your lips and your arms go around his neck as he kisses you lovingly. Your little audience all seem to sigh in unison.

“Okay?” He asks, as he pulls back, running a thumb over your plush lips.

“Yes, Daddy,” you reply, your earlier nervousness bubbling over into excitement again.

“Good girl.”

You squeeze your thighs together at the praise and as you turn back towards the room you realise everyone saw you do it. You blush and bat your eyelids again, eliciting something that sounds a lot like a moan from Jerry.

Elvis’ hand sweeps up your thigh, pushing the material of your skirt with it, showing your panties to the room properly this time. Joe is the first to obviously touch himself through his pants but it’s not long before the other two join him, especially when Elvis points out the damp patch you’ve made on your pretty pink panties.

“She’s filthy, EP.”

Elvis chuckles, softly. “She jus’ likes doin’ as she’s told, don’tcha, Dolly?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slips your panties off and throws them at Sonny, clearly seeing the hungry look on the brunette’s face. You smile at the way he almost jumps when they land in his lap, his attention being completely captured by your bare pussy. Quickly recovering a second or so later, he balls them up and stuffs them into his pocket.

Elvis kisses your neck as he pulls your legs apart, putting you on display for the other men. The cool air of the room hits your open pussy and you moan a little, feeling his fingers digging into your thighs and desperately wanting him to touch you.

“That’s a nice pussy, man,” Sonny declares, sounding a little drunk on just looking at it.

“C-can we… uh… see her tits?” You’re surprised to hear such a vulgar word from Jerry, but the way he stumbles over the words makes him seem cute again.

Elvis clicks his tongue and pushes you into a more upright position so he can pull the top of your dress down, exposing your pretty pink bra. Jerry groans. Elvis’ fingers slip underneath the straps and slide them over your shoulders, and then he’s pulling your bra down too. The cool air hits your nipples and they stand erect. You’ve never felt so looked at before, and part of you wants to run away, but the other part is bathing in the attention.

“C-can she come o-over here with those tits?”

Elvis laughs. “Ya like her tits, Jer?”

The mass of curls bobs up and down as the younger man nods his head. “God, they’re perfect.” His eyes are like saucers and they’re trained on your nipples.

“Go on, Dolly. Go and see Jerry.”

He gently pushes you off his lap and onto your feet, and you make your way over to Jerry, who spreads his legs wide as he unbuckles his belt and pulls out his dick. You watch him stroke himself as he tells you, a little nervously, to kneel down in front of him. Still stroking, he fondles your breasts with his other hand, letting out a little hum of appreciation.

“Push ‘em together, honey,” he instructs, and you do. “That’s right. Oh God,” he mumbles, still touching himself as he stares at them. “Can I just… E? Can I put my dick between them?”

“Sure,” Elvis replies, and you think you hear the sound of his belt clinking.

Unclasping your bra and removing it, Jerry rearranges you and him so that his dick is between your breasts, then pushes them together again himself. He groans as he starts to move, sliding up and down as best he can. It's obvious he’s getting very excited, you can tell from his flushed face and the cuss words falling from his lips, but he’s not about to finish any time soon and the other men quickly become frustrated.

“C’mon Jer, I need this pussy,” Sonny grumbles, from the other side of the room.

“Yeah Jerry, you’re hogging her,” Joe joins in.

Jerry sighs and stops what he’s doing. “Alright. Who’s next?”

“I said first,” Sonny replies.

You turn to look at them and see Joe about to open his mouth to say something, no doubt in an attempt to contradict the other man, and then they’re both silenced by Elvis.

“She’s my girl. She’s comin’ to me.”

You settle between Elvis’ legs as he guides your mouth over his dick, holding your hair and bobbing your head on him, gradually helping you take more and more until your nose is buried in his pubic hair and you’re gagging. He holds you there until your throat relaxes, and then starts to thrust. Your eyes water a little, but you can hear the appreciative sounds in the room and they spur you on. Gasping for air when he finally pulls you off again, you sit back on your heels and look up at him, worshipfully.

“Good girl,” he affirms, then looks up. “Who wants her?”

Sonny manages to speak before Joe again, so Elvis instructs you to go to him, on your hands and knees this time. He’s taken your dress off properly, so you’re naked apart from your stockings, and he gives your ass a low whistle as it moves away from him. You eagerly take Sonny all the way in, he’s a little smaller than Elvis so you don’t choke so much when he starts to fuck your throat.

“Oh God. She’s so pretty, EP. So pretty choking on my damn cock.”

Your eyes are watering again and you can tell Sonny likes it. There’s probably mascara running down your cheeks too.

“Please tell me I can fuck her.”

There’s a low growl in the back of Elvis’ throat, something protective that makes you somehow even wetter. “Not yet. Give her to Joe.”

Crawling over to Joe, you’re relieved he’s even smaller again, and taking him is no trouble at all. You’re so engrossed in the blow job that you don’t notice the other guys getting closer, and then suddenly you find yourself on your back in the middle of the room, Elvis pushing inside your pussy and Sonny back in your mouth. Jerry kneels on one side of you, stroking himself as he looks down at your body, and Joe is still where he was, on the sofa.

Elvis’ dick stretches you, making you moan around Sonny, but you’re so wet he slips in and out easily anyway.

“She loves it,” Sonny declares. “Such a pretty little cockslut you’ve got here, E. Such a perfect little whore.”

You moan again around his dick and he slaps your tits.

“Such a good little lovin’ doll,” Elvis coos, holding your thighs as he slams into you.

They keep going in that arrangement for a while, but then after some more complaining from Sonny, shift so that he’s inside you now, and Jerry is in your mouth, his big fat balls slapping against your forehead. Sonny is as sadistic with your pussy as he was with your mouth, jackhammering into you in a way that isn’t exactly pleasurable. After that, Joe comes as a blessed relief. You don’t like him much, and you definitely don’t find him attractive, but he fucks you kind of gently and for a moment or two you don’t have a dick in your mouth and you find yourself moaning and arching your back.

“Is she gonna cum? Joe, you’re makin’ her cum!” Sonny is clearly shocked at the turn of events, and to be honest so are you, but something about the slightly twisted up position he’s got you in is hitting the right spot and Sonny is right, Joe is making you cum.

“Ohhhh. Ohhhhh.” You moan, eyelashes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you.

“Let me go again. I wanna make her squirt. I bet I can make her squirt.”

“No, Sonny,” Elvis’ voice is deep and firm and brooks no argument. “It’s Jerry’s turn. Let him try.”

The angle Jerry was at when he tried to fuck your mouth earlier meant you couldn't fit much in, so you don’t realise quite how big it is until he starts to push inside your pussy. And then you really realise, when you look down and see the bulge it’s making in your stomach, the other guys whooping and cheering about it. Jerry is big enough to hit your g-spot easily, and he’s thick enough to make your head flop back and your eyes close, and you to just generally lose a good portion of your grip on reality.

“She’s cock-drunk.”

“Look at her, Jerry. You’re fucking her stupid.”

“God, she’s perfect,” the hushed, reverential tone is Jerry, and you try to peel your eyes open again to look at him. “Taking me so fucking perfectly.”

You manage something between a moan and a whimper, and then you feel it. Your second orgasm, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to explode. Jerry obviously feels it too, his thumb starting to rub your clit as he picks up speed, fucking you so hard Elvis has to hold you in place by pushing down on your shoulders. You’re sure your guts are going to be completely rearranged by the end of this.

“C’mon Dolly, cum for me. I can feel ya gripping me, honey. You can do it.”

Jerry’s praise tips you over the edge and suddenly you’re screaming and squirting and flailing about on the carpet. You can hear all the men groaning and then you feel yourself suddenly empty, Jerry is cussing and then he’s moaning as you feel something splattering over your chest. Unable to manage to open your eyes again, it seems like you're floating as you feel the next dick inside you, somehow recognising it as Elvis’. More wetness on your belly, and what sounds like Joe moaning out your name.

“I wanna cum on her face.”

You finally manage to open one eye to see Sonny kneeling over you.

“Alright, man.”

“Eyes open, honey. Look at me.”

You do as you’re told, watching as Sonny beats himself off, groaning until cum starts shooting out of his dick, all over your face. You close your eyes again at the crucial moment, but when you reopen them you’re conscious of the wetness beading on your lashes, like raindrops.

“Fuck. You look so pretty with my cum on your eyelashes. Perfect little slut.”

You bat them a little, unable to help yourself trying to look cute even with the state you’re in now. Elvis thrusts inside you a few more times and then pulls out, stroking himself until he cums on your pussy. He groans as he paints you with his release, and you suddenly realise how much of a mess you are, the cum of four men all over you. You bite your lip. You really are a slut. You start to smile, thinking about it, thinking about just how much fun being told what to do was, how much you enjoy switching your brain off and doing what other people want you to.

Elvis kisses your knee, gently. “Thanks, baby,” he whispers. Then he looks up at the other guys, expectantly.

“Yeah, thanks Princess,” Joe joins in, tucking himself away and sitting back up on the sofa. “That felt really good.”

Jerry looks down at you with soft, loving eyes. “Thanks Dolly. You were perfect.”

Sonny coughs and looks a bit awkward, like someone suddenly realising how they’d been acting when they were horny and now feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Thanks honey. Sorry about your um… face.”

You can’t help giggling a little, and you look over at Elvis who nods his approval. You can stop just being an obedient doll now.

“It’s okay, Sonny. I had fun.”

Sonny rubs his face with his hand and nods, still looking awkward, before getting up and mumbling something about going for a drive. Jerry gets up from his kneeling position too, suggesting he and Joe go out and get some dinner for everyone. Joe looks very much like he’s about to say he’d rather just stay right where he is, but Jerry’s head tilting to the left and his eyes widening must finally give the clue that he’s trying to suggest they clear out and give you and Elvis some privacy.

Then it's just the two of you, and he scoops you up in his arms and carries you into the bathroom, helping you into the shower and then getting in with you and cleaning you up. You stand there in shock as he dries you gently with a big fluffy towel, and then swathes you in pyjamas and a robe, waiting as you push your sooties into soft pink slippers.

“Come to my room, Dolly.”

You’re not often allowed in Elvis’ room, it’s his sanctuary, he likes to repair to it when things get too much for him. Even in the LA house it’s much more decadent than the other bedrooms, and it’s darker than yours, all purple and gold. It’s also freezing, and you shiver as soon as you step through the door. He holds you to him for a moment, humming softly as his body heat warms you, and then helps you into his big brass bed. Settling you into the comforters and pillows, he gets in next to you and shows you the controls for the electric blanket.

“Thanks,” you murmur, looking up at him through your normal lashes. Those falsies had gone straight in the trash.

He brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers and kisses you softly. “Y’okay?”

You nod quickly. “I’m good.” Moving your legs a little, you squint. “Pussy’s a little sore.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you again. “Ya were so good, Dolly. Such a good little girl for me.”

One of your hands rests gently on the back of his neck. “I um… I liked it.” You look down, biting your lip a little. “I shouldn’t, should I?”

His hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up so you have to look at him again. “I’m glad ya liked it,” he murmurs, conspiratorially. “Though I hope ya didn’t like any of the guys more ‘an ya like me…”

Your heart leaps in your chest. You’ve never known him to be this vulnerable. “I could never, Da- Elvis. I love you.”

“I love you too.” His hand envelopes your whole cheek as he pulls you in close for a proper kiss. “My precious, perfect little doll.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you

79 notes · View notes

nickeverdeen · 1 day ago

Note

Hi hi!!

May I request a fanfic for Ekko x fem!reader?

Could you write about flustered and crushing Ekko, where he is absolutely in love with R but thinks it’s not the same? Where he literally swoons if he sees R looking at him, where he’s utterly miserable, thinking that those feelings could never be reciprocated (which ofc is not true)

I just want to read a bit about stolen glances, discreet and little touches and this kind of stuff 🫶🏻

Happy new years and stay safe! Eat and hydrate! 💖

- @frostbitten-writer

Smitten | Ekko x fem!reader

Pairings: Ekko x reader (mutual crush)

Type of fic: Fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: Ekko has fallen for you… hard to say the least and is kidna acting out because of you while thinking you could never feel the same way, but unbeknowns to him you do love him too.

———————————

Ekko was a dead man walking.

At least, that’s how it felt every time you so much as glanced in his direction.

It was humiliating, really. He was supposed to be the leader of the Firelights, a tactician, a fighter, someone who could keep a cool head in the worst situations. But when it came to you? One look, one fleeting touch, and he was done for.

And the worst part? You had no idea.

You were too kind, too warm, too you to even realize what you were doing to him. The little things that made Ekko’s stomach do backflips were just casual gestures to you—like when you laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones, or when you adjusted his bandages for him after a mission, your fingers brushing against his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He should’ve been used to it by now. He wasn’t.

It was getting ridiculous. Just last week, you had touched his arm in passing, and he had short-circuited so hard that he nearly walked into a wall. And today? Today was even worse.

The Firelights were gathered in one of their hideouts, going over supplies and repairs. Ekko was supposed to be leading the discussion, but it was proving impossible when you were sitting right across from him, twirling a screwdriver between your fingers, eyes locked onto him like you were actually listening to what he was saying.

He was a goner.

His brain refused to function properly, every sentence coming out slightly wrong, every movement just a little off. He had been gripping a wrench, pretending to check one of the hoverboards, when you suddenly leaned forward and took his hand.

“You’re holding it too tight,” you said, prying his fingers open to adjust his grip. Your hands were smaller than his, but they were steady, warm. “You’ll cramp up.”

Ekko forgot how to breathe.

You were so close, your scent—something faint but sweet—wrapped around him, and for a second, all he could do was stare. You glanced up at him through your lashes, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You good?”

No. Absolutely not.

“I—yeah,” he choked out, snatching his hand back a little too fast. “Fine. Totally fine.”

You blinked at him, head tilting in that way you did when you were confused, and he had to physically restrain himself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

This was torture.

The meeting ended eventually, much to his relief, and he all but bolted before you could see the way his ears burned red.

Of course, luck was never on his side.

Later that evening, after everyone had turned in, he found himself back in the hideout, trying to cool off. He leaned against the railing outside, watching the neon lights of Zaun flicker in the distance. The quiet should have helped, but his mind was still looping the feeling of your hands on his.

This is stupid, he told himself for the hundredth time.

“Can’t sleep?”

Ekko nearly jumped out of his skin.

You stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, watching him with a soft smile. He hadn’t even heard you come up.

“Uh,” he said eloquently. “Yeah. Something like that.”

You stepped closer, leaning against the railing beside him. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was nice—peaceful, even. Then, without warning, you reached out and flicked a strand of his white hair.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you observed.

Ekko swallowed hard. “Guess I got a lot on my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He almost laughed.

Instead, he shook his head. “No. It’s nothing.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t push. Instead, you sighed and leaned against his shoulder, just the barest amount of weight resting against him.

Ekko stopped breathing.

This wasn’t normal. This couldn’t be normal. Friends didn’t do this, right?

“Whatever it is,” you murmured, “you’ll figure it out.”

Ekko turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of you in the dim light. You weren’t looking at him, but your expression was soft, trusting.

He was doomed.

And the worst part? If this wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

#request #imagine #arcane #mlw #ekko x reader #ekko #ekko arcane #ekko x you #ekko x y/n #ekko x fem reader

65 notes · View notes

andre-and-cal · 1 day ago

Note

IK IT'S A A WEEK ISH AWAY BUT CALDRE VALENTINE'S HCS⁉️😘

YESSS I wanted to do Caldre Valentine’s Day headcanons so bad !! Hope you enjoy! :3

Caldre Valentine’s Day Headcanons

At first, Andre thought that the whole concept of Valentine’s Day was stupid. Something he never understood was why some couples only showed appreciation for someone they cared about on one unnecessarily flamboyant day rather than doing so every day. While he stands by an unintentionally tender message, he never really did anything for Valentine’s Day. And neither did Cal. However, during their sophomore year, the teen wanted to make something for Andre, wanted to express his appreciation toward him. Calvin ended up giving him a small photo collage— which he and his parents had designed— of the Army of Two, from their middle school years up until then. With Andre having nothing prepared for him, it left him feeling guilty. As a last-minute gift, Andre decided to lend Cal one of his old switchblades, which he’d painted on. He wanted Calvin to keep it permanently.

The first time Cal asked Andre to be his Valentine, Andre’s heart jumped out of his chest. He’d choked out a simple, “Sure,” and tried to act all nonchalant and casual about it. But his leg kept bouncing up and down— they were in Cal’s bedroom at the time, sitting together and watching Beavis and Butthead. Luckily, Cal didn’t even really notice his overly-conscious behavior.

Ever since, Cal will ask Andre if he wants to be his Valentine, with a witty grin spread across his face. For which, Andre will accept the invitation seriously, but then snicker— he attempts to act like it isn’t serious, as if being Cal’s Valentine is just such a silly thing. But clearly, it is not, with how Andre now indulges himself in some Valentine’s Day traditions.

Following, when Valentine’s Day came around during their junior year, Andre and Cal did start to be a little more receptive toward each other in terms of gift-giving. Andre buys Calvin items that he’s heard him talk about or mention before— like maybe a Misfits album on CD, or a cool poster from a TV show Cal likes. Often, Calvin creates cards and handmade trinkets for Andre, since Andre doesn’t usually ask for much aside from snacks and a bag of chocolate caramel candy bars. Andre is an absolute sucker for chocolate caramel, and Calvin knows this, so when he has no money, he’ll ask his parents to purchase a bag of them for the teen. In addition, when he does have some cash in his pocket, he’ll buy them for Andre. One year, Cal had his little sister make matching bead bracelets for him and Andre— although, the two teenagers don’t wear them in public. Instead, they keep them protectively stored in their bedrooms.

Calvin will stay up late working on little makeshift Valentine’s Day cards for Andre, often putting off dinner so he can work on the cards. He writes poems for him, too !! With Cal being a bit of a teenage poet, his poems aren’t perfect, but they’re lovely enough for Andre. Cal wants to impress Andre so badly, and even though his writing is generally more on the dark and moody side, with sappy topics not necessarily being Cal’s forte, he tries hard to make sure his poems for Andre are lovey-dovey. He wants the other boy to feel good while reading them.

But most of all, they go out together... as usual, really. But when they do, it feels a little different; the atmosphere feels less “needed” and more “wanted”. To elaborate, both boys feel relaxed when they go out together. It feels more like an actual date, less like a mission— which, their private outings do essentially serve as unspoken dates. Especially during “Valentine’s season” as Cal calls it. And by the end of the day, Cal ends up in Andre’s arms, whether at his own house or at Andre’s house.

38 notes · View notes

starlightsuffered · 1 day ago

Text

Just Put Her On Your Dick

Info - a little bit of toxic Timmy, reader with a child, argument and sex acts, people hearing sex noises, bratty reader, hard dom cocky Timothée, gamer Timmy, oral (male receiving)

“Timothée,” I moaned needily. I could feel wetness pooling in my core. I’d been antsy for him all day but my kid came first.

Timothée had come into my life only about six months ago but I’d fallen hard. It wasn’t too odd for me. I was surprised he wanted to step up and let me work half time while he worked full time. He wasn’t quite happy with calling himself a step dad yet, I’d get him there.

The habit he had that that u wasn’t too fond of was his gaming habit. It seemed so childish to me when he could be fucking me. I’d wanted to be around him all day and now he sitting in his boxers, headphones on, and playing some stupid game with his buddies.

I’d been looking forward to cuddles tonight and maybe some sex. I couldn’t believe he wanted to spend our free time doing this especially when I’d finally gotten Hunter to go to sleep.

“Can’t you turn off that stupid game?” I asked, letting more anger fill my voice than I’d meant.

“Don’t be a brat, we had sex last night,” he scoffed.

“How dare you assume that’s what I want,” I snapped.

“Isn’t it?” He smirked. I couldn’t answer. I felt too needy to argue with him. I should have glared and flipped my hair, but I found myself at his crotch.

If he wanted to play video games with others they would be sure to know I was here. I began to desperately suckle on his tip through his boxers. He grunted in appreciation.

“Mmmm, mmmmm, ‘mmm,” I moaned on his cock. He was hardening in my mouth. He may have not been looking at my needy eyes, but he was beginning to leaky salty precum through the fabric.

“Mmhmm ngggmmmhh,” I bobbed and drooled over his thickness. He made another noise of pleasure, but it was dwarfed by my noises. I was soothing myself on the cock I loved.

“Dude is that your girlfriend again.”

“Bro ewww, what does she want?”

“She’s SO loud, lmaooooo”

“Just put her on your cock if she’s gonna be that noisy.”

“Babe,” he said in an exhausted tone. He had muted him his mic thankfully. I gave him huge, wet, puppy dog eyes.

“You can get my dick out if you’ll be quiet,” he hissed. His eyes were electric with fury, but underneath was the molten warmth of lust.

“I want more than just your cock in my mouth,” I snapped. His grabbed me by the shoulder and got in my face. I sucked in a breath. My clit tingled and swelled to an even larger size as he slowly licked his lips.

“You’ll take what you get princess,” he said with a dark smirk.

“Mmmm please, wanna ride you,” I whined, losing my bratty nerve.

“Honey, I’m playing a game,” he said in a dark tone.

“But I-“

“Quiet now,” he purred. He pulled out his length and swung it around a bit so a disrespectful amount of precum and my own saliva flicked onto my face.

“I hate you,” I snapped.

I took his cock down my throat. I let my jaw go slack and my tongue turn into a slick slide. I gagged up and down on his dick, trying to make the head good enough so that he’d let me fuck myself on his huge length.

“But you don’t,” he sighed, pushing my head further down with one hand and resuming the game with the other.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker @therealbeabodoobee

#reader insert #x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chamalet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee smut #timothee chalamet smut #just put her on your dick

28 notes · View notes

t00tsmcgee · 2 days ago

Text

Rook as a companion fic, scene excerpt: Spite learns how to paint

Scene written with my Rook Calais as the eight companion. Read more about him here!

Scene is a takeout of a larger Rookanis fic that I'm writing so this is a bit of an experiment. If this does well I'll post a few more scenes on here!

Cal was a few minutes into his painting exercise when the door of the pantry opened and a sleepy Lucanis came out. “Oh, hello. You’re back already.” he said, surprised. “Yeah.” Cal said, a little short. Lucanis frowned, cocked his head, but didn’t inquire further, walking over to the kitchen counter for coffee first. Of course. “Here, looks like you need it.” he said, coming over after finishing brewing coffee for both of them and putting the cup next to Cal. Cal couldn’t hold on to his anger in the face of such a kind gesture, smiling gratefully at Lucanis. “Thank you, Lucanis.” “You’re welcome.” Lucanis smiled and took a seat on the table next to Cal. “I thought painting was supposed to be relaxing.” he pointed vaguely at Cal’s tense frown. “Usually it is. Today I’m just trying to keep the demons at bay.” Cal sighed, deflating a little. “What?” Spite chimed in. “I’m not doing anything!” Cal chuckled. “Sorry, Spite, I didn’t mean you. I more meant my personal demons. Bad thoughts.” “What bad thoughts?” Lucanis asked. “Did you not have fun last night with Emmrich?” “Oh no, it was great. I had a lovely time.” Cal said. “Perhaps too lovely.” “Talk to me.” Lucanis said, openly looking at Cal.

“Everything was perfect, Lucanis. Exactly as it should be. But I ruined it with my feelings.” Cal sighed. “Emmrich was very clear on the arrangement. It was going to be one night only.” “Right. But.. you felt different.” Lucanis said. “I foolishly thought we had something special. He and I always talk so easily, make each other laugh, understand each other in a way no one else does.” Cal sighed. “And I guess I was dumb enough to think maybe he felt like that too. So when we got back this morning I asked him if he really was set on it being a one time thing. That I was open to it being more than that.” he took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot liquid settle his nerves a bit. “And he rejected you.” Lucanis concluded. There was a little contempt in his frown, but it quickly disappeared. “I’m sorry.” “Thank you. I suppose it’s my own stupid fault though.” Cal said. “I knew the terms.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself. What you said is true, you and Emmrich are usually like butter and toast. I can’t begin to guess why he would reject you, but I know that what you feel isn’t stupid.” Lucanis assured him with a gentle smile. “Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.” “I guess. But the rejection hurt more than I like to admit. It made me feel.. small. Like I wasn’t enough. That’s why I’m here, painting the feelings out. That’s why I was frowning so hard.” Cal smiled sadly. “It’s hard to feel useless when you’re creating something.”

Lucanis looked a little lost on what to say, but Spite had a word of wisdom as usual. “Useless? No, never useless! Create in spite of what he said. Prove your worth. But you are already enough. Like pennies in a jar.” Cal laughed a little. “Thanks Spite.” “He has such a way with words.” Lucanis smiled when he saw Cal smile as well. “He’s right though. You’re never useless. Always enough. You bring joy with your presence, your smile.” “Thank you. Both of you.” Cal smiled warmly. “I really appreciate the support. I’ll be fine. Just need to get over myself for a bit.” “And painting helps?” Lucanis asked. “It does. It’s calming. I like the feeling of the brush on the canvas, thinking of what colours to use and mix, plan out a painting step by step.” Cal explained. “You can try, if you want?” “Yes, try!” Spite was clearly excited. “Sure, why not?” Lucanis said, indulging him. “I should warn you though, I don’t have an inch of artistic talent.” “It’s not about talent, or about what you make. Its about expression. As long as you’re conveying what you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter how ‘good’ it is. If its worth doing, then its worth doing badly, too.” Cal smiled, Lucanis surprised by that little bit of wisdom at the end. “I suppose you’re right.” he said. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to try.” “What do you want to paint, you think?” Cal asked. “You.” Lucanis said, honestly. “How I see you. Well, I mean, I’ll try.” “Oh, okay.” Cal said. “Then I’ll paint you, if that’s alright?” “Yours will be better.” Lucanis smirked. “But it’s the thought that counts right?” “It is.” Cal agreed. “Can Spite use objects in his latent shape?” “Yes, I can if you are near! I want to paint too!” Spite proclaimed with his usual smirk. “Hold on, I’ll get you set up.” Cal said, grabbing a canvas and putting it on the table for Spite to use. He put his older brushes there for him, the ones that wouldn’t suffer much for a bit of abuse, the hairs already starting to split. “There you go. Just dip your brush in water first before you grab paint.” he said, Spite eager to do so. It must have looked strange for anyone walking in, Cal and Lucanis painting, and a third canvas being assaulted by a floating brush. But Cal actually found a sense of peace in it, and the bad thoughts left him as he kept looking at Lucanis’ face for reference. The portrait was turning out quite nicely, and he couldn’t help but feel curious as to how Lucanis’ painting was going. Lucanis kept looking at him too, Cal smiling whenever their eyes met. There was something to it, he found, feeling the stirrings of something beneath the surface at Lucanis’ slow smile. Or was that just because he was still emotional from this morning? He probably couldn’t really trust his own feelings right now, but it was nice to take his mind off of this with someone he liked and trusted. Even Spite seemed to be having a good time, happily painting away. At first the strokes were big and aggressive but he seemed to hone in now, scribbling with a smaller brush. “What are you painting, Spite?” Cal said, seeing him so focused on his canvas. “Home.” Spite said, and the longing in his voice was clear. “Can I see?” Cal asked. “If you want, yes.” Spite said. He still seemed a little awkward but Cal was glad for the trust that was clearly returning after their earlier mishap. He came over to look at Spite’s painting, surprised to see how well he’d managed to represent the fade with colours and shapes, even if they were more abstract than how a humanoid would have done. “Spite, that’s beautiful.” Cal said, taking in the painting. Lucanis joined him, curious to see it as well. He seemed surprised, eyebrows rising. “I had no idea he could do this.” “I love the colours you used, very expressive.” Cal smiled when he saw Spite’s giddy grin. “I like painting!” Spite proclaimed with enthusiasm. “Giving shapes and colours to feelings and thoughts!” he wiggled excitedly. “I want to paint more!”

“Of course, here I have another canvas you can use.” Cal said, giving it to Spite, who was as happy as a child with a new toy. “I’ve never seen him like this.” Lucanis said, almost in awe as they returned to their own canvasses. “He’s so happy, so calm.” “We all need a hobby to express ourself.” Cal smiled. “Even spirits.”

“I wonder what he did before to express himself.” Lucanis said. “Can I see how you’re doing?” “Sure. It’s not finished by a long shot, though.” Cal said, standing aside to show Lucanis his painting. Lucanis took it in with a quiet look, smiling when he looked at Cal again after. “You’re very talented.” “Nah, I just practised a lot.” Cal said. “And you don’t even have a face yet.” “But I can already see it’s going to be me. The shapes, the stance, the essence is already there.” Lucanis said. “It’s going to be beautiful, I can tell.” “Thank you.” Cal smiled, flattered. “Can I see yours?” “No.” Lucanis said, quickly. “It’s.. nowhere near as good as yours. I am.. a little ashamed.” he admitted. Cal chuckled. “How many times have you painted in your life?” “The last time I painted was as a young boy.” Lucanis said. "It was with fingerpaint, and me and Illario started a war with it instead of painting our canvasses."

“Right, and I've painted every day, since I was four years old. So don’t put that pressure on yourself. Just have a good time.” Cal smiled. “Comparison is the thief of joy.” “You are just full of wisdom today.” Lucanis said, smiling.

Cal focused on his own painting for a bit, seeing Lucanis do the same, but he gradually seemed to smile wider, Cal curiously looking over. “What is it?” “It’s a mess. I don’t think I can salvage this.” Lucanis gave in. “It’s like a child made it.” “You’re too hard on yourself.” Cal said. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to have to accept that I’m not an artist.” Lucanis sighed with acceptance. “I tried.” “Come on, just let me see.” Cal said, Lucanis stepping aside to let him look. Cal didn’t want to laugh, but he had a hard time keeping his grin contained when he saw what Lucanis had made. There was something of a face there, he had to give him that. The colours were unmixed, primary only, so his skin was red, his eyes blue and his hair yellow, a little orange where it touched his skin and making it look like spaghetti. He put his hand in front of his mouth to hide his smirk. “This..” he said, taking the canvas and presenting it to Lucanis formally, holding it in front of his chest. “Is modern art.” he saw Lucanis start to grin, finally breaking his own composure and laughing as well. Their joined laughter filled the kitchen, Cal having to wipe a little tear once they calmed down.

“It really is a disaster, isn’t it?” Lucanis sighed, chuckling and shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not a disaster.” Cal said, hiccuping. “I can see the shapes. That’s definitely a face. Everything is kind of in the right place, too.” “You’re being kind.” Lucanis said. “It’s ugly.” “It makes me smile.” Cal said. “And I love it for that.”

“You’re sweet.” Lucanis said, his eyes warm. “But I think painting is definitely your thing. Not mine.” he gave Cal the canvas he’d been working on. “Here, a gift. If it makes you happy, you should keep it.” “I will. I’ll look at it every day and remind myself that this is how you see me.” Cal smiled.

“Well, don’t do that.” Lucanis chuckled. “I didn’t even get your hair colour right. I don’t know why I didn’t just use white.” he subconsciously touched Cal’s hair, Cal looking at him with surprise at the familiarity. Lucanis seemed to realize his mistake after a moment or two, taking his hand back to himself. “Forgive me.” he mumbled. Cal smiled when he saw Lucanis fumble slightly.

“You’re okay.” he said. “Do you want to try again? The painting I mean.”

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age veilguard #lucanis dragon age #Rook as a companion

24 notes · View notes

araybiaaa · 2 days ago

Note

hi! can you write a story where rafe and sofia had a daughter when they were very young, but then they broke up because of how difficult their relationship has become, but still had to remain in each other’s lives because of their child. then after years they’re both all grown up and mature, so when their daughter asks rafe to spend new years with her and sofia, he can’t say no to his little girl, and sofia can’t reject her wish either. so they have to spend the night together, maybe leading rafe and sofia to get a little tipsy, get into an argument as they always did but then end up like sleeping together? they both realize that they still love each other deep down.

i don’t know if this is stupid you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to🫶 i just had a dream about this😭😭😭

❝ reconciliations, r. cameron. ❞

ooo. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈… rafe cameron & sofia

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… mild sexual content, angst, marriage separation, mutual pining, denial of feelings.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… request!where their daughter inadvertently helps them reconcile after she asks for rafe to stay over.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… i think this is my first official fic of rafia as parents?? this was so much fun to write. i kinda deviated from the ask a bit (not too much though so it’s fine lol.) also this was not a stupid request anon. i think this is probably one of my favorites asks that i’ve gotten.

she seems him before he sees her.

(which is astounding considering the fact that his towering height usually gave him the advantage of overseeing nearly everything in his path.)

he’s barely walked through the room that’s filled with rambunctious toddlers who were all running around and squealing loudly in mirth as they chased each other — probably at the precipice of a sugar high from the chocolate milk they had during snack time, he considers — when he hears iliana’s familiar clamor of “daddy!” that has him averting his eyes away from her teacher whom he greets with a haste wave and genial smile, before shifting his attention on her.

she scoots out of the chair that she was previously seated in, absentmindedly abandoning the uncapped markers and crayons she was using while coloring, and snagged the piece of paper off of the table before making her way towards him.

he smiles, that soft adoring smile that’s always on his face whenever he looks at her and met her halfway, stepping around the clutter of legos that a little boy was playing with on the mat and crouched down with extended arms. he catches her as she runs into his arms, hefting her in the air and adjusting her so that she’s hoisted high against his chest.

“hey, baby.” he greets, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her cheek.

iliana shuffled the paper that she was carrying around, switching it to her other hand. she extends the now crumbled up paper towards him, smiling widely as she avers, “look what i did!”

with his curiosity piqued, rafe retrieved the paper from her grasp and looked at it. skewed messily across the middle written in a heavy dark pink marker was iliana valdez-cameron; the words were shakily written, contrary to the dexterous feat of a toddler but still tangible enough for him to decipher to make out the gist of it. he could tell she’d worked hard on it as there was still residue of the pink smudge from the marker on the side of her hand.

he gasps, “you did so good baby.”

iliana reveled in her father’s praises, her gapped smile widening. “i did a painting too!” she accents, pointing across the room where the kids’ artwork was still drying on the easels. he followed her directions; maneuvering through the room until he reached hers.

it was a picture of their family; her penchant for details captured his slender physique as he wore his signature suit with the blue tie with red fishes that she gifted him for father’s day, sofia was standing on the other side of him with her widened smile and big eyes, that shone brightly and made his heart flutter even through a child’s painting. and at the end, iliana painted herself, her hands intertwined with her mother’s as they all stood in front of their house, smiling.

he smiles despondently at the sight.

“it’s dry, you guys can take it home with you if you want.” rafe turns his head at the sound of ms. goodwin’s voice approaching. she smiled at iliana before shifting her gaze over to rafe, gesturing towards the painting. “she worked hard on it. she said she wanted you to hang it up somewhere in your office.”

rafe nodded, chuckling softly. “my whole office is decorated with her artwork so that’s not surprising.”

there were drawings, pictures, gifts handmade by her, all around his office. he liked the memorabilia’s she’s made for him as every little piece held a special place in his heart. it was like that at home too — the refrigerator served as a makeshift exhibit, displaying all of the pieces she’s made for him throughout the years.

“hey, baby, can you go run over there and grab your bag and jacket so we can go?” he asks iliana who nods avidly, wriggling herself free from his grasp as he sets her down and allowed her to go over towards the cubby area.

“she’s such a sweet girl and she’s so smart for her age.” ms. goodwin compliments as they both stood there watching iliana multitask in grabbing her bag while also talking to one of her classmates.

“she definitely got that from her mother,” rafe says with a chuckle, “i barely made it through school.”

it truly was astounding how iliana’s nearly a prodigy, so naturally good at school when he was barely able to make it through school himself. if it weren’t all those tutors that his father paid for growing up, he probably would’ve had to repeat a few grades.

“she tells me that you read to her every night. that helps a lot,” she says but rafe doesn’t mention the fact that his reciting bedtime stories for her was usually done over the phone. after the separation, he moved out of the house which unfortunately split the time he got to spend with his daughter. “you’re both doing great with her,”

he hates that his and sofia’s decision affected iliana to where she’s now reduced to spending time with one parent one day and the other the next. he never envisioned co-parenting with sofia; he’d always hoped that when they finally started a family, that it would be all of them together as one but instead he was in a house all alone with nothing but torturous thoughts of regret that haunted him every night.

he was still active in his daughter’s life, but it was nowhere near the same as actually being there, and he felt the repercussions of their decision every time he comes home to a vacant house instead of returning to the one he previously shared with his wife and daughter.

rafe nodded as he looked over at her, a soft smile of adoration tugged at his lips. “thank you,” it was validation that he needed to hear because sometimes he questioned it himself.

he wasn’t always there to tuck her in at night, to kiss and hug her good morning, to comfort her whenever she had nightmares and needed someone to lay in bed with her until she fell asleep again. sure, he was present in her life, but he also felt solemnly absent and withdrawn from his family.

when she’s finally got her arms shoved through the straps of her little mermaid book bag, she hobbles back over to where he’s standing, proffering her arms up in the air in an unmistakable gesture that indicated she wanted to be held. rafe, never being able to deny her of anything she asks, reaches down and tucks his hand beneath her armpits before hefting her in the air.

she entangles her arms around his neck, nestling herself against the comfort of his chest. ms. goodwin observes the two in awe, unable to constrain the adoring smile that stretches across her features.

“tell ms. goodwin, bye.” he says, brushing a hand over her back as she peeks her head up from where it was hidden comfortably against him. suddenly feeling timid, iliana raises her hand in the air and wriggles her fingers, gesturing a small wave. she murmurs a soft and haste bye before turning her head to bury her face back in its respective perch. ms. goodwin fawns over her adorableness, resting a hand over her chest.

“bye sweetheart, i’ll see you next week!” she bids her farewell, before diverting her attention back to the remainder of her students. rafe walks over and snags her now dry painting off of the easel, bringing it along so he could hang it up at home.

…

she’s at home, stood over the stove prepping for tonight’s dinner when she hears the front door opening and iliana’s clamor of “mommy!” that has her smiling as she turned around to see her daughter running towards her in approach. sofia picks her up, wrapping her arms around her small body as she pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“hi, mi amor! did you have fun at school?”

iliana nods, “mhm. i made drawings for you and daddy today!”

“really? well, i can’t wait to see them and hang them up.” she smiles, pressing one last kiss against her cheek before steadying her to her feet. “i’m almost finished with dinner. but why don’t you can go play in your room while you wait, okay?”

“okay, mommy.” she concurs before she skips off down the hallway towards her bedroom. sofia turns around and gauges a look over at rafe who stood tentatively by the doorway with his hands slacked in his front pockets.

“thanks again for picking her up,” she says, tucking her arms across her chest as she leaned her body against the counter.

he shakes his head, dismissing her good naturedly. “you know that i don’t mind, sof. i love any extra time that i get to spend with her.”

she nods, “yeah, i know but still thanks.”

she watches as his face furrows in an indescribable expression; he looks briefly at her before hurriedly averting his gaze. the sudden shift has her curiosity piqued. she was with him long enough to be able to detect all of his tells and idiosyncrasies — she knows rafe better than she knows anyone; which is why she knows with the way he’s pursing his lips and writhing his hands inside of his pockets that something was bothering him.

and almost as if he’d read her mind, he begins to vocalize his thoughts. “so, uh, iliana told me about the trip you guys took to the aquarium last weekend...” sofia nods, albeit blanking confusedly on why he was mentioning it until the realization suddenly dawned upon her. “with uh, what’s his name again?” rafe questions, though she knows it’s rhetorical because with how detail oriented iliana is, she doubts there was anything her daughter forgot to mention while reciting the story of their outage to her father.

she sighs in deep exasperation, already knowing the direction of where this conversation was headed towards. “it wasn’t a big deal, rafe. we were already there and we happened to run into him while he was there with his son.” she clarifies, though she’s not entirely sure on why he felt like she was obligated to explain herself to him any way.

he nods, though still looking visibly abhorred. “i just find it funny how he was around while we were together and he’s still around even now that were separated,” and this time it’s sofia whose eyes narrow in offense because she did not appreciate what he was insinuating in the least.

he was deflecting, trying to blame and fault her to attempt to absolve himself from his own residual feelings of guilt that he still carried.

“what exactly are you trying to suggest? because scott is my friend! i’m allowed to have friends, rafe.”

he scoffs disbelievingly, “your friend? sofia he’s in love with you! i’ve seen how he looks at you! but you’re just too blind to see it.”

sofia’s eyes rolls at the absurdity of rafe’s accusations. but she doesn’t even have the opportunity to rebuttal against them, because their conversation is interrupted by iliana who skips into the room again. she pauses, looking between her parents with curious eyes.

“is dinner ready yet?” she asks and sofia exhales a soft sigh of relief; thankful that she didn’t inadvertently overhear their loud bickering.

the last thing she wanted was for their daughter to hear or witness their disagreement. prior to the separation, they’ve had countless whispered arguments in their bedroom, wary of iliana possibly overhearing them. though they know she doesn’t fully comprehend all of the complications behind the separation, it was still imperative for both of them to remain united in front of her. because even though they were no longer together, it was important for her to know that they were all still family regardless of her and rafe’s relationship (or lack thereof.)

sofia smiles softly as she averts her attention on her daughter. “not yet, baby. it’s just a few more minutes until everything’s done.”

“okay.”

sofia’s eyes wander waywardly towards rafe who sighs softly as he rubbed a hand over his clenched jaw. he placates a halfhearted smile on his face, masquerading his anger and softening his voice before he addresses her. “alright, baby. i have to go.” he says, walking from where he was previously posted by the doorway to now sauntering in the kitchen where they stood.

rafe crouches down in front of her so that their heights are leveled. he reaches for her hands, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles. “i’ll see you next weekend, okay?”

iliana’s eyes look at him pleadingly, her lips jut out in a petulant pout as she stumbles forward and throws her arms around his neck. “can you stay daddy? i don’t want you to go! i miss you.” she murmurs, though the sentiment is loud enough for sofia’s heart to break as she stood there listening to her daughter’s plead.

though it’s been two and a half years since their separation, they know iliana still hasn’t fully adjusted and it’s becoming more evident in how clingy she’s gotten recently. she’s always been a daddy’s girl but this past week she’s been more insistent than ever in wanting to be cemented by her father’s side. the other night, she made rafe read her three bedtime stories — trying to prolong the conversation so she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him.

he holds her against his chest, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “i know. i miss you too, baby,” he says as he tries to assuage the conversation. though through the weariness lilting in his tone she could tell that his feelings were reciprocal of iliana’s. “but remember you and mommy live here together and i live somewhere else?”

she nods curtly against his shoulder, but doesn’t relent in her persistence. “i know, but i want you here again.” she avers, her words had yet to cease in their onslaught of breaking sofia’s heart.

sofia bites on her lower lip, contemplating. it’s after a brief moment of consideration that she concedes to her daughter’s ask. “hey, how about daddy stays over for the night?”

both iliana and rafe’s attention piques at this; their expressions aghast. iliana vocalizes her excitement with a squeal and an affectionate squeeze that she gives rafe, while he looked over her shoulder, staring at sofia with his face marred in a confused but appreciative look.

…

it’s after their bellies are full of food and iliana’s freshly bathed and tucked in that rafe and sofia find themselves alone again.

throughout the night; they remained cordial for iliana’s sake — laughing and engaging in conversation as she talked animatedly about her day. her excitement about rafe staying the night was apparent especially with how she preferred him to be the one to bathe and tuck her in bed tonight instead of sofia.

“you always tuck me in mommy! it’s daddy’s turn this time.” iliana said when sofia teasingly feigned offense over it.

she stood in the doorway, watching with a soft smile as rafe tucked her in and pressed his lips against her forehead. sofia’s smile turned despondent as she reminisced on the times where this was a nightly routine for iliana instead of a seldom one. their separation disrupted the familiarity that she’d gotten so accustomed to and it’s now that sofia realized the extent of how their decision affected her.

“okay, now it’s your turn,” iliana beseeched, retracting sofia away from her thoughts. she blinks, giving her daughter a small smile of adoration as she treks across the room until she’s stood just at her bedside.

sofia leans down and kisses her cheek, her smile widens at the sounds of iliana’s hearty giggles. “sweet dreams, mi amor.” she whispered, before leaning over to turn off the lamp that’s perched on the nightstand. her nightlight turns on; substituting for the loss of light.

rafe and sofia make their stealth departures as iliana suddenly begins to succumb to her exhaustion. she leaves the door ajar, giving her one last brief look over before eventually retreating down the hallway to the living room with rafe following in tow behind her.

“it might not be the most comfortable but these should help,” she says as she extends a pillow and blanket towards him.

he nods, “thanks and thanks letting me stay over. it really means a lot,” he says, his voice soft as he looks over at her.

after their unresolved conversation earlier and seeing him tucking iliana into bed, there was so much that sofia wanted to say to him about everything that happened between them.

things were easier when they first started dating, then somewhere done the line it got so complicated that sometimes rafe wouldn’t even come home and if he did he would sleep on the couch rather than in their bed with her.

they tried so hard to make it work, but it eventually got to the point of no return despite their efforts. of course there were times where she wondered if they gave up too easily on their relationship; but it’s been two years since it’s ended and he hasn’t made one indication of wanting to reconcile. so she conceded, pushing her feelings away until they were buried and dormant, choosing to focus solely on coparenting instead of rekindling their relationship.

it wasn’t until tonight that those feelings decided to resurface again.

“yeah, no problem. iliana really wanted you here so,” she shrugs, watching as his expression weened slightly at her insouciance. “i’m gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

rafe nods somberly as she brushes past him “yeah. night.”

…

he can’t sleep.

he’s laid wide awake, staring vacantly at the ceiling with his mind wandering on sofia. being with her and iliana tonight felt reminiscent of how it used to be when they were together as a family. despite their constant reassurances to iliana that they would always be a family regardless if he and sofia were together or not; it didn’t feel the same as actually being with them like he is tonight.

being here and being able to eat dinner with them as a family only made rafe mourn what he lost when he and sofia separated. he knows that he should’ve fought harder for her and their marriage. she was the best thing that ever happened to him and he let her slip away from him all because of his own insecurities. and now he’s carrying the brunt of his regrets.

he sighs deeply, running a hand wearily over his face. he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think with sofia being in such close proximity to him. he sits up, rubbing a hand over his neck that had began to ache from tension. “fuck,” he murmurs before clambering to his feet.

he retreats into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. as he’s standing there chugging down the drink, he’s taken aback when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. at first, he thinks that it’s iliana — she used to sneak into their bed to sleep with them all of the time when he used to live here, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he looks up and sees that it’s sofia rounding the corner instead.

“hi,”

she jumps, startled, resting a hand over her heart. “ay dios mios you scared me!”

“sorry.” rafe says, swallowing down the remnants of his drink before turning around to set the dirtied glass into the sink. he averts his attention back on sofia. “can’t sleep either?” he questions and when she shakes her head, his mind curiously wondered if the reason for her insomnia was the same as his.

“it really was nice being here with you guys tonight. it felt like old times,”

she nods, turning away from him as she tugged the refrigerator door open. “yeah, she was really happy to see you here again.”

rafe scoffed a bit ruefully as he shook his head. “why do you keep doing that?” he wasn’t trying to get upset, but any attempts at he made at trying to hold a conversation with her, she dismissed.

he’s aware that it was iliana’s doing that allowed him to stay over for the night but part of him foolishly hoped that maybe tonight would be the start of them reconciling. that seemed improbable now especially when she could barely look or talk to him without the subject regarding iliana.

she furrowed a confused look at him. “why do i keep doing what?”

“any time i try to talk to you, you dismiss the topic by bringing up iliana. i thank you for letting me stay, your response is that iliana wanted me here. i tell you that it felt like old times being with you guys again, you say iliana enjoyed seeing me again.”

“well what do you expect me to say?” sofia rebuttals, closing the door as she finally turns around to look at him again. she raised an expectant brow and shrugged, “last time i checked any and all conversations that we have are about her and her only. there’s not anything else that we need to talk about.”

there’s a sullenness that weighs down heavily on his chest at sofia’s disregarding behavior towards him. sure, they weren’t together any more and haven’t been for a while now, but did her feelings for him completely disappear after the separation?

“wow,” rafe surmises in disbelief. “so, that’s it?”

“what did you expect, rafe?! to come back and suddenly we’re one big happy family again? if that’s what you wanted then you shouldn’t have given up so easily!” she abhors, tears line in her pupils and despite her efforts at a callous demeanor her expression wavers the moment her lip trembles. “you gave up first. you pulled away and shut me out. then you moved out and left us,” she says and rafe feels his heart break at her accusations.

his own emotions begin to unfurl.

“i-” he shakes his head, blinking through the tears that fell from his eyes as he sputtered through an explanation. “i left because i thought that’s what you wanted. you weren’t happy anymore, sof. i saw how miserable you were being with me.” he laments, reminiscing on the trajectory of their marriage and how it started off so good but then transgressed into days with them not speaking or touching each other.

sofia nods, “i was miserable, rafe. because you were pulling away. suddenly the job seemed more important than us—”

“don’t say that! you know that’s not true.” he interjects, feeling offended that she would ever insinuate such an absurd statement. “there’s nothing in this world that’s more important than you guys. you two mean everything to me. it fucking kills me knowing that i didn’t fight hard enough to keep our family together. it’s the biggest regret that i carry with me. i love you, sof. i never stopped loving you. all i want is to come home to you guys, not just for one night but for every night for the rest of our lives. i’m sorry that i was distance and withdrawn and didn’t pay you the attention you deserved but i promise i’ll be better, baby. please just give me another chance to prove it to you,” he begs, pleadingly in his spiel.

he’s desperate for her forgiveness.

all he wanted was his family again and he was willing to do anything to ensure that happened. he knows saying i’m sorry wouldn’t even begin to absolve for everything that he’s done, but he hoped it was enough for the moment.

“sof, please. i’ll do anything, baby. please.” he whispers, his desperation is getting more palpable with each passing second that she stands there looking at him with an indiscernible expression on her face. he hoped his pleading apology was enough for her to believe in him again.

it’s after a moment’s contemplation that she’s nodding her head, murmuring a soft, “okay.” that has him releasing a sigh of relief.

he reached forward and cradled her face within his hands and leaned down, brushing his mouth tentatively against hers. “mmfh!” she murmurs against his lips, slightly aghast by the abruptness of it but slowly succumbing to the feeling of familiarity that washes over her as she indulges into the kiss.

his hands slide down her sides and grabs her by the waist, gently pressing their bodies together, before he’s leaning up and slotting his mouth over hers, swallowing away any lingering questions or trepidations.

it’s slow and suave, with rafe’s lips moving delicately against hers. he parts his lips and seeks after her tongue, sucking on the sensitive flesh. sofia moans softly, leaning into the kiss as she slowly loses herself in the feeling of him.

…

his forehead’s hot against her skin as he tucked his face in her neck. sweat’s slick all over his body, causing his hair to dampen and for the salty body fluid to stick against her body. pleasure spreads from the tip of her ears down to her toes that curl when he shifts his hips and thrusted into her without preamble.

sofia writhes beneath him. her hand glides over his ass, tugging his boxers down even further so she could feel more of him against her. she hikes her night gown over her thighs, pulling it up so that the vision of his cock thrusting inside of her cunt is in her view. he revels at the sight; seeing himself filling her with every thrust that he gives.

“fuck, sof.” he murmurs, sliding his hand underneath her thigh and lifting it up to where she’s bracketing it around his waist. this allowed for a change in pace; allowing him deeper, sharper strokes that has her back bowing as pleasure engulfs her.

she whimpers, her fingernails carve into the skin on his back as she feels his pelvis chafing against hers as he rolled his hips into her, swiftly, fluidly, unhurriedly, with such vehemence and vigor that it’s impossible to replicate.

she could feel him twitching inside of her with every pull her cunt gives. she keens and tosses her head back in pleasure.

“sofia-” he grunts again, his body trembling atop of hers. he’s already so close and isn’t positive that he can last any longer with the way she’s clenching around him.

she cums when he presses his thumb against her cunt and massaged at the swollen flesh.

she cries in pleasure, feeling her chest contract as she lulled down from her orgasm. rafe’s seconds behind her, body stuttering and spasming as he fills her with his warm.

“i love you,” he murmurs against her skin, squeezing his eyes shut.

she turns her head and smiles softly at him, leaning forward to meet his lips in another soft kiss. “i love you too,” she says, so naturally, like it’s the easiest thing in the world for her. her smile sages a bit as she sighs. “rafe?”

“yeah, baby?” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against her skin.

she chews on her lip, shaking her head as she looked over at him. “what’s going to be different this time?” she heard his promises and reassurances earlier, but she needed to know how they were going to make this relationship work better this time.

she didn’t want them making the same past mistakes just to end up separated again.

rafe looks at her in deep consideration. “well, firstly, we’re going to communicate with each other better. i want to know everything you’re feeling and i’ll do the same. if you’re feeling like i’m not giving you or our family enough attention tell me and i’ll do better. you guys have always been my first priority and i’ll do better at showing you that.” he avows, brushing his hand over her back as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“secondly, we’re not going to give up on each other again. no matter how hard shit gets, we’re not separating again. it’s been hell being without you and iliana and i don’t want to experience that kind of loneliness ever again. i’m going to prove that i’m worth being your husband again, sof.” she smiles at the vehemence behind his words, there’s a sincerity in them that has her clinging onto belief. it’s everything that she wanted to hear all those years ago and now that he’s saying them, there’s not a doubt in her mind that he won’t fulfill his promises.

she leans forward to peck a kiss against his lips, whispering a soft i love you, that has rafe’s stomach fluttering and heart swooning. she cuddles against his chest, tucking her face in the comfort of his neck as he holds her against him with his arms barred around her body like he was afraid of letting her go.

#rafe and sofia #rafe x sofia #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks s4 #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #sofia x rafe #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx season 4 #rafe cameron #rafe fic #drew starkey fanfiction

40 notes · View notes

anakinstwinklebunny · 5 hours ago

Note

Soo i was just thinking, maybe more zombie apocalypse Ani? It's just been on my mind lately

Doesn't have to be smut if you don't want, i know i'll like anything you'll write <3

-🦢

The fire crackled softly in the background, casting shadows across the crumbling walls of the abandoned cabin you’d found earlier in the day. You sat on the floor, knees hugged to your chest, eyes darting to the boarded-up, covered in moss windows every now and then. Still you could hear the distant groans and shuffles outside that slowly had eased-- although temporarily-- before they were back in, some louder, some quieter. Yet still, nonetheless, it never truly felt safe. Not out here. Not anywhere.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER crouched a few feet away, sharpening a hunting knife with slow strokes. Jaw was clenched, hand steady despite how it trembled earlier from adrenaline. The fire's light caught the hard lines of his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes and the streaks of dried blood on his temple he had forgotten to wipe off. He looked every bit like the battle-worn survivor.

“You should eat,” he said quietly, not looking up from his blade.

“I’m not hungry,” your voice equally low. The truth was, you were too tense to think about food, to think about anything that would force you to use any bit of your little strength. Even talking felt like an exhausting, hard action. Your heart also hadn’t stopped racing since the last run-in with a horde. The image of those rotting hands clawing through the broken car window still haunted you like the worst nightmare.

Anakin’s gaze finally lifted “You need to keep your strength up,” he insisted, tone leaving no room for much further argument. He reached into his pack, pulling out a can of soup and tossing it toward you. “Eat.”

With clumsiness, you had caught it, the can slipping a little in your shaky palms. “I said I’m not hungry,” you muttered, carefully setting it down beside you.

To that, he rose to his full height, taking steps towards you. When he crouched down in front of you, he felt overwhelming, those stormy, ocean-grey eyes locking onto yours. “And I said eat,” he repeated, voice softer now, but no less firm. “I’m not losing you over something as stupid as skipping a meal.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was--close enough that you could see the subtle tremor in his hand as he set the knife aside. Close enough for you to notice the weariness on his face. How tired he was, too. How it was all eating him alive. He was just as exhausted, just as scared, but he always managed to mask it, for your sake.

“Anakin…” you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“You think I don’t notice?” he murmured, his gaze flickering to your trembling fingers. “How you flinch every time you hear something outside? How you barely sleep because you’re too busy making sure I’m still breathing?” His hand reached out, touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “You’re clearly carrying too much, and you’re going to break if you don’t let me help.”

“I’m not… I’m just trying to keep us alive.”

“So am I,” voice dropping to a whisper. “But I can’t do that if you won’t take care of yourself.”

His fingers lingered against your cheek for a moment before he pulled back, reaching back for the can of soup. Without another word, he opened it and handed it to you with an expecting gaze

“Please,” he said, the word barely audible, but you didn't miss the vulnerability in it “For me.”

For a moment longer, you hesitated, before finally taking the can, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, too familiar tension in your chest easing just a little as you raised the can to your lips.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop

#bunny's replies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა #🦢 nonnie #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars #anakin skywalker fanfiction #hayden christensen x reader #:haydennation #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker thought #anakin skywalker fluff #christensen hayden #haydenchristensen #hayden christensen characters #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

biblical-chronicles · 3 days ago

Text

Perfect

______________________________________

where an interesting comparison you used in an interview intrigues Noel.

______________________________________

Being part of the High Flying Birds had been a dream in itself, but working this closely with Noel? That was something else entirely. It hadn’t started that way, not exactly. At first, you were just another musician in the mix—lucky enough to be in the room, lucky enough to play on the tracks.

But somewhere along the way, things shifted.

Noel started asking for your input. First, little things—a chord change here, a harmony there. Then, bigger things. Whole sections of songs. Lyrics. Sometimes, he’d play you a demo before anyone else had even heard it, watching your reaction like it actually meant something. Like he trusted you with it.

And that was the thing about Noel—he wasn’t the type to let just anyone in. Everyone knew that. He was set in his ways, fiercely protective over his music, his process. If he let you close, it meant something.

But whatever it meant, neither of you ever said.

It was something that made you feel a little bit stupid, because there was no way in hell Noel thought about you like that.

On the other hand, you weren’t blind. You knew something was there, unspoken, just beneath the surface. The way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. The way he always found his way next to you in a crowded room. The way his fingers lingered just a second too long when he passed you a guitar.

It was almost laughable, the way you danced around it. Like two people standing at the edge of something, both too stubborn to be the first to jump.

And maybe that was why, when the interviewer asked you about him, the answer came out before you even had time to think.

“So, how’s it been then?” The journalist leaned forward, resting his dictaphone between you. “Writing with Noel, I mean. He’s not exactly known for sharing the load when it comes to songwriting. That must be… exhausting?”

You blinked, caught off guard for half a second before the words tumbled out, natural as anything. “No, no, it’s amazing actually,” you said, shaking your head. “Like, I know he’s got this whole thing of being dead stubborn, and yeah, sure, sometimes he’ll just look at you like you’ve said the stupidest thing in the world, but honestly? I’ve never been more excited to walk into a studio. He teaches me so much without even meaning to. Every time we work on something, I feel like I come out of it a better musician.”

You hesitated for a moment, then smirked. “He’s like if the G-string on your guitar didn’t go out of tune after a session, but as a person. Just consistently brilliant.”

The interviewer chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So, he’s perfect then?”

You let out a huff of laughter, feeling your face heat slightly. “Yeah… something like that.”

And that was how you found yourself suddenly feeling very exposed. Because even though the words had left your mouth so easily, so casually, you knew anyone listening closely enough could hear what you weren’t saying.

The interview wrapped up soon after, the journalist thanking you as he gathered his things. You plastered on a polite smile, exchanged pleasantries, then made your way back to your usual spot in the studio, still feeling a little warm from your own words.

A day or two passed without much thought about it, it wasn’t until you were sat alone in the studio, half-focused on tuning your guitar, that you were reminded of your little performance. You barely had time to glance up before Noel strolled in.

“Your perfect G-string has arrived.” he announced nonchalantly.

You frowned for a second, thrown off. “My what?”

Then it clicked. Your interview.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “You watched that?”

“Hard not to, innit?” He shrugged, stepping closer. “It’s everywhere. And I’ve gotta say, of all the things you could’ve compared me to, a G-string was a choice.”

You smirked, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, you don’t like it? I can always release a follow-up clarifying that I compared you to a G-string ‘cause you’re always up me arse.”

He let out a proper laugh at that, shaking his head. “You’re a cheeky little shit, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.” you shot back, but there was an edge to his look now.

Noel tilted his head, analysing you. “Do you actually mean that love?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit too warm. “What is this police interrogation?”

“Stop deflecting.” He pulled up a chair beside you, sitting way too close, his knee knocking against yours. “Come on, tell me. You actually mean all that stuff you said?”

You could’ve played it off, could’ve laughed it away, but there was no point. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when it had been obvious for months.

“Yeah,” you admitted softly, not quite meeting his eyes. “Thought it was quite obvious by now.”

There was a beat of silence, just long enough to make you second-guess yourself. But then, he reached out, fingers brushing your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“Good.” he murmured, before kissing you.

It wasn’t rushed, just firm and sure, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had. His hand slid to the back of your neck, keeping you close, as you melted into him.

When you finally pulled away, you were a bit breathless, heart pounding as you searched his face for any sign that this was some kind of joke. But he was grinning, eyes warm, thumb still tracing absentminded circles against your skin.

“So, does this mean we’re official now?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “I’d love to officially be your G-string.”

You groaned, pushing him away as he laughed. “God, you won’t let that go, will ya?”

“Not a chance.”

“I meant the guitar string, you absolute muppet.”

______________________________________

story aside, this is a serious concern of mine, why the fuck is the g-string always magically untuning itself? any science behind that?

anyway, hope you lot liked it and thanks for the request xx

love ya !!

#oasis x reader #oasis one shots #oasis band #britpop x f!reader #britpop x reader #britpop fanfiction #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher x f!reader #noel gallagher one shots #noel gallagher fanfiction #oasis noel gallagher #noel gallagher x y/n #oasis fanfiction #oasis fic #britpop one shots #dilf! noel gallagher x reader #dilf! noel gallagher

40 notes · View notes

je0ng1nn · 5 hours ago

Text

SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE — Hwang In-Ho

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ PAIRING — Hwang In-Ho x fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ INCLUDES — basic Squid game violence, maybe a little bit spice, age gap (reader is mid 20‘s In-house is late 40‘s), Jealousy

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ NOTE — Okay y‘all.. since my last fanfic about Sangwoo got lots of love, i decided to write another one.. this time about In-ho!!! I seriously love that guy it isn’t normal anymore… I also tried out a new writing style as i‘m still trying to find out a good style to write in, so let me know which one you prefer!!

I was talking to Gi-hun as I felt an uncomfortable feeling, someone was staring at me. But not the normal staring, the type of staring that would linger on you for way to long. The type of staring that made you feel uneasy right away. But i decided to shrug it off. „I hope the next game won’t be too difficult,“ Gi-hun said as he slowly exhaled.

„Me too.. the last game was exhausting enough.. I really thought we would’ve died when we only got 10 seconds left to make it to the finish line..“ I closed my eyes in relief, it was definitely an expierience for itself, Pentathlon felt like the hardest one.. Red Light Green Light was very easy.. just the shock of the people dying for the first time got to me.

„Hm.. let’s just dig in right? I think we need enough energy for today.“ Dae-ho said. I nodded and started to eat my food, listening to the others as they continued to talk. Me and Young-il were the only ones being quiet.

„Y/N-ah.. take my bread, i don‘t need it. You didn’t eat a lot yesterday after the game ended.“ Young-il smiled at me, it was a weird but reassuring smile.. it made me feel warm inside. „Oh really sir? It isn’t a problem or?“ I asked again, only to make sure. He just nodded and handed it to me, i didn’t take the whole tho, i broke it in half.

„Young-il sir, don’t give me everything, you also need some food and energy.“ I gave him the other half. He was a little shocked by my action, his eyes widened slightly. I looked up at his, before giving him a soft half-smile. He nodded and ate together with me.

We continued to eat in peace before guards came in. „Players, please follow us to the next game.“ the one in the middle said. We all looked at each other before hesitating to stand up. Young-il took my wrist to make sure i didn’t get lost in the crowd.

My cheeks got a light shade of pink as i quickly looked away. I heard a short chuckle coming out of Young-il‘s mouth. I just decided to ignore it, but my body made it hard. It completely gave me away, my heart skipping a beat at his sweet chuckle.

We followed the guards into a room, Young-il‘s grip tightened on me when we arrived inside. „What could this place be?“ I asked quietly as i looked around. The whole room was big and colorful. It counted 50 Doors, each having different colors, in the middle of the room there was a platform with a statue in the middle of it. It looked scary but also nostalgic, like a sweet children’s place, but knowing what happens in here, it didn’t seem so sweet as it looks.

„Players, please step on the platform in the middle of the room“ the creepy voice called out, I tensed at hearing it, which Young-il felt. He looked down at me, his hand letting go of my wrist but finding its way on my shoulder instead, drawing circles on it to reassure me.. which weirdly helped.

„When the game starts, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches the number, enter one of the surrounding rooms and lock the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated.“ We all slowly went to the platform, i kept holding onto Young-il somehow, only his presence already kept me safe..

„I repeat,“ I completely blended the creepy robot voice out as i was looking up at Young-il, captivated by his beauty. Of course he isn’t stupid, he noticed i was staring, but he enjoyed the moment just like me.

The other‘s talked, but i stayed quiet, they tried to make a planning what to do when certain numbers got called out. I held onto Young-il‘s arm, just listening closely to the others. After around 2 minutes, the platform suddenly started moving and music started playing. I accidently stumble at the sudden movement, but Young-il catched me with his strong arms.. „Are you okay?“ I just nodded.

I felt uneasy, this didn’t feel right. The song made me feel even more uncomfortable. Young-il noticed, he tried his best to help me, which did. His presence already made me feel better. Suddenly after some time, it stopped again. Everyone stumbled again.

„TEN“

I looked at Young-il, and then at Gi-hun. We were 5.. we needed 5 more. Hyun-ju came to us, „are you guys 5?!“ she quickly asked, the pressure in her voice was bearable. „We‘re 4! we just need one more!“

Gi-hun nodded, he looked out for someone, and noticed Jun-hee, it was the pregnant girl. She was nice earlier to me. He looked over to Hyun-ju who knew what he was symbolizing. 8 of us already went to the room quickly, Hyun-ju took Jun-hee‘s hand and guided her quickly but also gentle to us, after all she was pregnant.

We had 15 seconds left and Hyun-ju quickly closed the door, I was in a corner next to Young-il. He squeezed my hand to calm me down. He leaned down, whispering in my ear.

„We are ten, don’t worry. I‘ll protect you, yeah?“ His voice was low and raspy, i had to keep my composure and nodded. „Thank you Sir.“

He chuckled again, his breath touching my neck. „Drop the sir, yeah?“ I just nodded as i felt another blush creep up my face.

The timer was already over. We could hear gunshots, but Young-il covered my ears. He kept his promise, keeping me safe.

„The following Players were eliminated: Player 013, 043, 049, 054, 060..“ Our room was quiet, Gi-hun was looking throught the little slit of the door, watching the people getting taken away.

The atmosphere was tensed, everyone was breathing heavily. Yet Young-il was calm as always, drawing circles on me again, but this time, on the inside of my arm. Shortly after, out doors were unlocked, and we slowly went out. I almost slipped from the blood on they floor, but luckily Young-il kept me in his arms.

And everything repeated, the platform started spinning and the music went on. This time i didn’t stumble, as it was as unexpected as last time. And soon after, it stopped again.

„FOUR“

we all looked at each other in panic, we were 5, shit.. Young-il look at Gi-hun before pushing me into his arms. „Take care of her, and go, Now!“ He yelled, Gi-hun catched me quickly, but i tried to get away from his grip. „Young-il!“ I screamed out, but i couldn’t run after him. Gi-hun just let out a quick „don’t worry“ and ran with me in his hand to a free door. Dae-ho quickly closed it after we got in. I was rushing to look through the slit, but i couldn’t find him.. Shit, where was he???, Gi-hun tried to pull me away, but i just hit his hand away.

5 seconds later the door locked. I flinched at the gunshots, but i couldn‘t care less, all i cared for in the moment was Young-il.

The creepy voice called out who was eliminated again, but i couldn’t focus on it, i tried to see if Young-il was out there.. he can’t die, what would i do without him?

The doors unlocked, i slowly opened it, my hands shaking. Dae-ho took my shoulders, he tried to help me calm down. But it didn‘t, it wasnt the same touch Young-il had.. it didnt feel right. We slowly walked to the platform.

I couldn’t spot him, my heart sinking, before i felt Dae-ho being pushed away from me. I got hugged from behind. I immediately recognized Young-il‘s strong arms around me. Gi-hun spoke up, „Young-il! You made it“. You could tell he was happy to see him too, but he just nodded and gave him a smile, before whispering into my eyes.

„I told you i will survive and protect you at all cost, Baby.“ This made something with me, he smirked to himself, i could sense that. He knows what he did to me. Letting go of me he talked to the others again. I just stood next to them, listening closely.

This game went on quite for some time now, and slowly i started to feel exhausted. I knew that as soon as we would be back at the dorm, i would take a big nap. This was the last round, the music was going on and for a moment everything felt good.

„The next number will be two,“ Young-il said, i looked up to him. „What do you mean?“ I asked, we were 5, what if one of us doesn’t find a partner? „We are 126 players left, there are 50 doors, when the number will be 2, it can only hold 100 people.“

It made sense, it would bring out a fight to whom will get a room, and for sure 26 of them won’t. „It makes sense, I think so too.“ Gi-hun agreed with him, „Me and Y/N will go together,“ Young-il said, taking my hands in his, our Fingers intertwined. It made me look down. My heart skipping a beat. „Jung-bae, go with Dae-ho.. I‘ll find someone.“ Gi-hun said, Jung-bae wanted to say something against it, but suddenly the platform stopped

„TWO“

Jung-bae couldn’t do anything and had to take Dae-ho with him Gi-hun went to search for a partner, and Young-il took me to a room. On the way there, a guy pushed me down and tried to get into the room me and Young-il chose. You could see the rage in his eyes. He took the guy by his collar, pushing him away. He took my hand and helped me up quickly. We made it into the room, 18 seconds left. I exhaled but stopped. We heard another guy in here, shaky breath.

„OUT!“ Young-il yelled angry, the guy shook his head. „I was here first!“ he shouted back, pressing himself into the corner. „I said, go. out.“ His eyes were sharp, his voice cold and loud.

„Push her out, Girls are weak anywa-” he couldn’t finish his sentence, before Young-il went behind him. He choked him, slowly sliding down the wall as he cut off his breathing way. The guy was struggling. But the most intimidating about this was the way he looked at me while he did so.

„Ten“

„Nine“

„Eight“

„Seven“

„Six“

„Five“

„Four“

„three“

Suddenly, Young-il turned his head, which let out a loud ‚CRACK‘ the door locked a second after he died. Young-il stood up, slowly walking to me, not braking the eye contact. He trapped me at the wall, his arms on each of my sides, keeping me from moving.

He pressed his lips sharp onto mine, i melted at the touch, but at the same time, i didn’t. Trembling beneath him. My hands wandered to his neck before i closed my eyes and eventually gave in, kissing him back. The kiss quickly turned into a tounge kiss, the Gunshots were completely ignored. He backed away, before moving to my neck, kissing it, biting on it, I let myself relax, whimpering at his touch. He let go, making my groan a little, he smirked to himself. His mouth went to my ear, he whispered into it, before biting my earlobe a little.

„You won’t tell anyone yeah? This will be our little secret, Darling.“

Okay i might make a second part out of this, because i‘m to lazy to write more at the moment, might even publish it tomorrow👀 stay tuned my loves!!! If you want to be tagged in the second part, comment below!

#hwang in ho #squid game #front man #hwang inho #x reader #hwang inho x reader #frontman x reader #fanfic #squid game x reader #je0ng1nn

41 notes · View notes

luckhissoul · 2 days ago

Text

she's left him. she's moved past him and now stands at the center of the room. the lights play off of her in an array of colors, reds and golds. all brilliantly gathered together around her. her pale skin is still flushed from the drinking. had she drank a lot? he has to wonder. he has to consider. but it's hard to think when she's so blinding standing there in front of him. like a weight on his chest that just wants to crush. he tells himself to look away but then she's talking. the bottle is cold in his hands. but it's not the reason for the chill that seems to run through his whole body when she starts to talk again. soft, like a light prickling sensation through his whole being. he wishes she wouldn't.

she lifts her hand. he holds his breath. was he really that pathetic? but he seems all too aware of everything that she's doing. even if it's simply just her pushing her hand back through her hair. it doesn't do much, in fact it makes her curls fall a little looser in her face now. she looks a little undone, doesn't she? not at all all made up and proper like she usually is. he lets out the breath he took, shaky, feeling terribly unsteady. he wants to rage about it. but looking at her then his mind is completely blank.

what was he waiting for? had she really asked him that. the challenge in her tone probes at him. it could mean a million different things, couldn't it? could she really be asking him to do something that they both now he shouldn't? the image is vivid in his head, too vivid, too real. it's dangerous just sitting here suddenly. it wasn't supposed to be like that. coming here had felt like something if a reprieve. but now he felt like it was something that he ought to run from, something to hide from. only he doesn't do much by way of any of that. he simply looks up at her.

he feels the weight of all of it in his chest. he considers taking another drink. dismissing her as some foolish girl. that's what she's being, isn't it? a bloody foolish girl. and she might even hate him a little bit if he told her that. elayne didn't like hearing the truth about things like that. it would be the easiest thing in the world to brush it off, another pull on the bottle, a laugh. wouldn't that be the better thing to do anyways? and then he could just leave the room. maybe he wouldn't sleep very good tonight. tossing and turning and what - ? thinking of her?

blood and ashes, but that was the most mad thing that he had ever thought. he wants to shake himself of it. but she's looking down at him now, and he's looking back. she's right. the bet had been pretty amateur. there were a million other things that the two of them could get up to here. alone in this room together, sharing a bottle. his mind is restless, something he can't seem to control. burn it all what's the fun in controlling it anyways? and what did it matter? they always seemed to end up here anyways, alone, together. was that reason enough to throw caution to the wind?

well, he had never being a cautious person. that much was true. he had never done much of anything to keep a steady even path. he liked to try his hand at risks. he liked to jump in blindly. luck, that had always been something he was about tt o get his hands on. so why not now? see where the dice fell? see what laid n store for him in those wide blue eyes. they seemed to toy with him so effortlessly, probing him to do something stupid.

he had been different lately. the world had shifted and mat felt as if he had been forced to do the same. shift into something else, react differently, do differently. always bloody busy, preoccupied with building something he had never wanted to be apart of. it was all so much. elayne would go on about how it was all worth it. but light help him, it was exhausting. mat cauthon had never been cut out for saving the world. this was more his style. getting drunk with a pretty girl and forgetting about the world for a while.

elayne told him once or twice that she wasn't surprised that he was there to help. seemed like a bad joke, to think that she could change her mind about him. he remembered her begrudged thanks in ebou dar, sometimes that was an easier pill to swallow. sometimes he didn't know how to respond when she treated him like he was her friend. being on her good sign felt like it only caused him more trouble than it was worth. but what about this? what side was this? certainly one he had never seen before. one he's sure he might not see again. so where was the harm in making the most out of it?

he sets down the bottle. it feels like something final. just setting it down on the ground beside him. are her eyes on him still? he's looked away briefly, if only to try and get his wits about him again. only it seems to fail. because when he looks at her he's not thinking straight. burn it all, he doesn't seem to be thinking at all. he just moves to stand up. not feeling as unsteady as he thought he'd be. it'd be a lot easier to write off if he was a lot drunker than he knew he was right then. it all comes without plan, but too much thinking. only he's sure no one would be able to tell.

now that he's standing before he considers taking her in his arms. it's a startling thought. it's the first time any thinking got that far. landing him in trouble he hasn't gotten into just yet. he can see himself take her up in his arms, no thinking, no words. just her close to him. she had never been that close to him. but it seems that he can feel her almost, the soft lines of her body pressed against him. but he doesn't do it. he feels frozen suddenly. stuck. and it's as much of a disappointment as it is a relief. but he does reach for her, taking her hands in his. caution comes into play, but it's not as much as he's sure it should be. because he still lifts her hands, letting his lips brush over her knuckles. the contact of her soft skin grazing his lips is too much. is something he shouldn't know. "i think you'd regret it." but he doesn't let go of her hands.

Was there any boundaries between them right now? She almost hoped that maybe there weren't. That was a ridiculous thought. It was a betraying thought considering everything. Mat was someone who should be kept on one side of the line and she should linger on the other. That was the way of things, wasn't it? That was the way that things had been for a long time. She was somewhat uncertain if those spots even existed where she was standing. Could she when she was hte most bare that she had been in her entire life? What did he see when he saw her? That was a lingering question that she couldn't put into words.

His hand brushes her skirts and she feels it shiver up along her spine. She's not sure why she felt it when he hadn't even touched her. He had been closer to her before, far more than he was now. But that feeling had coursed through her and she hadn't contained it either. Maybe that should have been some kind of a sign considering everything that had happened. But what had happened except for boredom? This was because of boredom, wasn't it? Boredom and absolute loneliness. She had been lonely for far too long, it seemed like.

The room was too quiet, maybe that was why. Maybe the silence was something that was building between them, and making things far more tense than they should be. Were they tense, though? Could they be explained that way? She would have preferred to look into his eyes and feel like there weren't any burdens resting there on her shoulders, weighing her down until she could only see the ground beneath her. But what were the burdens called? What could she define them as? Were they written off as Mat Cauthon and nothing more?

The lull, as brief as it was, gave her a moment to study him more than she already had. The brown of his eyes, the glisten of the drink on his lips from the bottle that he had taken a couple of drinks from. She had to wonder if he was feeling the same things that she was or maybe he was just playing into the scheme of the game, laughing at her and her attempt at seeming entirely different than she actually was. That didn't seem to be something that he would do but he was mischievous, and Elayne found it interesting even if she shouldn't be allowing it.

There were a number of things that she shouldn't allow. The closeness of them standing there, the way that his hand intimately skimmed her skirts, that bloody look in his eyes. She shouldn't be allowing any of it. They shouldn't even be on the same level, not at all. He was The General of the Light, of course, but she was the Queen! The Queen! There was no way that something like that was just overlooked by him. And it wasn't something that she should just be overlooking either. Yet here she was, doing just that, rather shamelessly too.

A smile came across her lips and she looked at the bottle that he was holding and eventually a soft laugh came from her. "Is that what you're going to do?" She questioned with a lift of her brows, canting her head some to the side as she studied him, teasing him just as much as he was. Maybe she was laying it on far too thick. "Destroy me with that? Drinking as much as you are?" He was going to think that she was being foolish but she didn't much mind that.

Regretting the loss of his hand skimming her skirt, she brushed past him so that she could move to the center of the room, the soft midnight light coming in through the windows. She turned around to face him, her skirts flouncing just a little bit - maybe she did that on purpose simply so that the deep colors could catch the lights. She turned where she was standing and then faced him, smoothing her hand down over her bodice as she looked into his eyes. Light, but she reveled in the way that he was looking at her.

"That sounds a bit amateur, doesn't it?" She asked, stifling a soft laugh from coming from her. She lifted her hand and gestured towards the bottle there in his hand. "I just thought that maybe you would be able to do something without me getting to drink the way that you do." Now she injected her gaze with expectancy, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked between his eyes. "You always prided yourself on being something of gambling man, don't you?"

Lifting her hand, she pushed her fingers back through the curls of her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders as she held his eyes. He was somehow everything to her in this moment. This was the only feeling that existed. She wanted him to accept this challenge, she wanted him to come closer, she needed him to stay away. Her heart was racing in her chest, something like an ache filling her. He shouldn't accept it, but it was somehow the one thing that she needed from him. Would he know that? Would he give that to her where heart needed it, where her loneliness was eager for it?

"So, what are you waiting for?" She asked, dropping her hands to her sides as she waited on him. Something like bated breath filling her, uncertainty threading through her. She felt nervous, vulnerable even, and somehow she knew that he was the only one that she had ever let herself feel this way for. That should have created a knot of betrayal inside of her but it wouldn't come, no matter how much she willed it to. She simply held his gaze, straightened herself, and tipped her chin, filling herself with all of the composure that she needed. "Gamble."

#v; when you're standing in the shadows #agoldenlily

22 notes · View notes