#i started this theme as a joke and then i fell in love with it. the caption smacked me in the face like a newspaper on a windy day

[aventurineswife]

Okay.. a crack request. Reader doing a mating dance ritual in front of their partner as a joke, but to their shock, it ends up working. (Kaveh and Veritas together, and you choose the rest because lmfao. I feel like any foxian character could work with this, and maybe Aventurine because peacock)

Unexpected Temptations

Tags: Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Feixiao x Reader, Mischief, Unexpected Romance, Playful Banter, Intimate Moments, Lighthearted Humor, Bonding Rituals, Emotional Tension, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Sexual Tension, Suggestive Content, Unintended Consequences, Power Dynamics.

It was supposed to be a joke. A simple, playful moment. But like most things in your life, it spiraled far beyond expectations.

You had been lounging around the cozy living room, your eyes dancing with mischief as Kaveh and Ratio argued about something trivial—probably architecture versus intellect, as usual. The tension between the two was palpable, though beneath the sharp exchanges, there was an undeniable fondness. They might not admit it, but they were as close as anyone could be, despite their differences.

As you listened, an idea struck you. The playful, impish side of you that loved stirring the pot was now in full swing. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You stood up suddenly, interrupting their bickering with a dramatic twirl.

"I wonder," you said aloud, your voice dripping with playfulness. "What if I showed you both a ritual from my homeland? It’s a sacred mating dance... You know, to deepen bonds, increase affection... or something like that." You were mostly making it up, a little bit of theatrics never hurt anyone.

Kaveh raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued, while Ratio only looked at you with his usual detached demeanor. His expression softened slightly, clearly willing to humor you. "If it's anything like your usual antics, I’m sure it'll be... enlightening."

You stood in the center of the room, feeling the weight of their eyes on you. With exaggerated movements, you began the "dance," shifting between wild spins, exaggerated swaying of your hips, and playful leaps in the air. The sounds of your footsteps on the wooden floor echoed as you performed, each movement meant to amuse, to provoke a laugh. Your arms waved in an almost absurd rhythm as you swirled and pranced, each step a joke, a jest meant to leave them in stitches.

Kaveh, ever the idealist, blinked a few times as he watched, clearly not sure whether to laugh or question his life choices. His mouth parted, half in shock, half in amusement. "Is this... supposed to be the sacred dance?" he asked with a half-amused, half-baffled expression.

But you were too caught up in your own display to notice. You continued, completely unaware of how your movements, lighthearted as they were, were starting to have an unexpected effect.

Ratio, however, was no longer his usual aloof self. His eyes had softened, his sharp intellect distracted by the graceful fluidity of your body, the playfulness you exuded. His lips parted slightly, a glimmer of something in his sharp gaze—something... entirely different than the usual unbothered look he wore.

Suddenly, you noticed. The tension in the room shifted. There was a palpable change in the air, a magnetic pull that hadn't been there before. You faltered in your next move, blinking in confusion as both Kaveh and Ratio suddenly took a step closer to you.

"You’re... rather enticing," Kaveh remarked, his voice barely above a whisper, a glimmer of admiration in his red eyes. "It seems your dance... actually has some effect."

Ratio, who had once looked at you with calm indifference, now stepped forward, his intense gaze locked onto you. His golden accessories shimmered as his chest rose and fell with a barely-contained breath. "It appears there is more to this ritual than I initially thought. I... may have underestimated its potency," he murmured, his voice tinged with something far more personal than usual.

You blinked rapidly. "Wait, hold on, I was just messing around! This wasn’t... what I expected!"

But it was too late. You had unintentionally stirred a deeper, more primal energy in both of them. Kaveh seemed suddenly more intense, his gaze locked onto yours as if seeing something he'd missed before. Ratio had lost his usual reserved demeanor, his posture now exuding an undeniable heat.

Before you could even respond, they were upon you, each pulling you toward them, a mix of hunger and tenderness in their touch. Kaveh’s lips met yours in a soft but insistent kiss, his hand gentle but firm on your waist as he guided you closer to him. Meanwhile, Ratio leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. "You’ve awakened something... unexpected, my dear."

Flustered but unable to deny the heat that now surged between the three of you, you finally surrendered to the moment, realizing this was no longer just a joke—it had spiraled into something far more intense, something neither you nor they had anticipated.

The dance, once a playful act, had now transformed into a ritual of its own, one that bound the three of you in a tangle of emotions and desires, far more potent than you ever could have imagined.

And as you were enveloped in their embrace, you couldn't help but laugh—this was chaos, of a most wonderful kind.

The evening was quiet, the moon hanging low over the horizon, casting a soft glow across the camp. Feixiao sat cross-legged on the ground, her eyes shimmering with intensity as she cleaned her blade, the silver glint of the metal catching the moonlight. Her hair, now loose from its usual high ponytail, cascaded around her face, and the delicate ornament on her forehead caught the light in a way that made her look otherworldly.

You, on the other hand, were sitting across from her, trying your best to stifle a mischievous grin. The two of you had spent countless hours training and fighting side by side, and while she was formidable and terrifying in battle, there was always room for fun, right?

"Feixiao," you said, voice low but playful.

She didn’t look up, her focus entirely on the blade she was polishing, but her ears twitched, a telltale sign that she was listening. You knew she couldn’t resist when you used that tone.

“What is it now?” she replied, her voice steady but with an edge of curiosity.

You stood up and stretched, glancing at her with an impish smile. “You know, I’ve heard that the Xianzhou has some pretty interesting traditions for bonding.”

Feixiao raised an eyebrow, though she didn’t look up from her blade. “Oh? And what kind of traditions are you talking about?” Her voice was laced with the slightest hint of suspicion.

“Oh, nothing serious,” you replied, stepping into the center of the clearing with an exaggerated flourish. “Just a... mating dance ritual. It’s supposed to be a great way to show affection, but don’t worry. It’s a joke. Just a little fun, nothing more.”

Feixiao didn’t react right away, though you could see the subtle tension in her muscles, a sign that she was intrigued but still skeptical.

"Are you challenging me?" she finally asked, her voice low and amused now, her gaze flicking up from her blade. There was a smirk on her lips, the kind that made you both nervous and excited at the same time.

"Not at all," you said with a wink. "Just wanted to see if it works."

With that, you began your exaggerated, somewhat absurd ritual, the moves as fluid as they were ridiculous. You swirled your hips in a dramatic circle, waving your arms with a flourish as if you were the star of a performance. You stomped your feet in a rhythm that didn’t quite make sense but was undeniably confident. You even threw in a few twirls, just to add extra flair.

Feixiao watched you, her eyes narrowing in silent amusement. You could see the corner of her lips twitch as she tried to hold back a chuckle.

But then... something unexpected happened.

Feixiao’s posture shifted. The smirk disappeared, and in its place was an intense focus. Her hands gripped the hilt of her blade tightly, and she tilted her head slightly, as if evaluating you. Her ears perked up, the earrings on her left one catching the light.

You froze mid-spin, realizing with dawning horror that she wasn’t laughing. Instead, she looked... intrigued? No, more than that. She looked... impressed?

“What... what are you doing?” you stammered, taking a step back, trying to recover from the sudden shift.

Feixiao rose from her spot, her gaze locked on you with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. Her steps were slow, deliberate, and when she spoke, her voice was low and dangerous.

“I’ve never seen a dance like that,” she murmured, eyes flicking to the space between you two. “But I must admit, it’s... effective.”

You blinked, your mind racing. "Wait, what?"

Before you could process the situation further, Feixiao was standing right in front of you. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something darker, more primal. Her fox ears twitched as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear.

"Do you realize," she whispered, her voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place, "that the Moon Rage might not be the only thing that makes me lose control?"

You gulped, heart racing. This was not what you expected.

As Feixiao took a step back, you noticed the way her fingers subtly flexed as though she were restraining herself, her expression intense. The playful teasing had faded, replaced by a hunger you hadn’t seen before.

“Well... seems like I misjudged the power of that dance,” you said, laughing nervously as you tried to back away, but she wasn’t having it.

Before you could escape, Feixiao moved with the swiftness of a fox, her hand on your wrist, pulling you toward her with a force that made your breath catch in your throat. Her eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the tension between you both was palpable.

She grinned, sharp and confident. "Maybe... you’re right. It’s just a joke after all, right?"

But the way her fingers tightened around your wrist suggested otherwise.

The dance, intended as nothing more than a joke, had worked—but not in the way you ever expected.

Feixiao's quiet chuckle echoed in the air, and you realized, with a mixture of surprise and a twinge of excitement, that the night had just taken a turn—one you would never forget.

And as her gaze softened just slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder what other traditions were hidden in the depths of the Xianzhou, because this certainly wasn’t the end.

It was only the beginning.

[wanderingblindly]

hi liquid i have a very strange ask beware

my friend asked me to make a powerpoint presentation to explain the basics of F1 (like rules, race weekend schedule, etc.) when i asked if she wanted me to include a list of all the 2025 drivers, she said “yes, i need to know name, age, nationality, and which other driver they have a homoerotic relationship with”.

and now i’m spiralling because like which ones do i tell her about?! because obviously there are endless rpf ships between the drivers, but in terms of drivers being actually incredibly weird around each other in real life?? i’m thinking brocedes (obvs) but not sure which other relationships i should analyze for her entertainment.

basically if you have any suggestions i would love to hear them thank you in advance ❤️❤️

HELLO I really wanted to go through and find individual clips but if I’m honest — the state of My City has been hell and it’s taken more out of me than I thought. I hope this is an adequate response even though it’s not up to my usual (neurotic) snuff :(

Ok so obviously there are a million ships, but I think there are two main categories: those who are compelling based predominantly on Lore™️, and those based around their F1 behavior specifically.

For the Lore, the obvious choices are:

1. Brocedes

There’s so much here…. Nico’s inability to eat anything but their favorite cereal before the deciding race of 2016. The theme of yellow in their helmets (started in karting, Nico ditched the yellow when their relationship when sour, Lewis has retuned to the yellow now that he’s left the team where they fell apart). The story of them on keke’s yacht, promising to make it to f1 together. Them sneaking out for ice cream ((Nico’s wife now having a vegan ice cream brand.)). You could analyze this for years. Years.

2. Lestappen

Though all these fuckers have raced each other for ages, Charles and Max are weird in how often their paths intersected despite not always racing in the same category. One that specifically comes to mind is Max recommending Charles for the seat that he left open when he moved up the ranks; this vocal awareness of and respect for his craft is brought up often when people show them racing wheel to wheel.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the second category, too:

1. Maxiel

it’s objectively INSANE how often Max and Daniel joked about making out. Like at some point — AT SOME POINT — you have to wonder why they’re both so comfortable with that bit, right? Beyond their weird behavior, their dynamic is extra interesting when you consider that Daniel was Max’s first Red Bull teammate: he was almost too young for f1, a bit socially odd, terrifyingly talented, and yet here’s this gregarious man that laughs at everything he says (yet has to remain wary of his threatened career)…. Formative experience.

2. Carlando

This one fascinates me threefold. First of all, there’s their online history. Baby baby baby Lando was constantly in Carlos’s comments and mentions as he moved up through the ranks — he clearly idolized him. To the second point: baby rookie Lando has him as his fucking teammate. Young and naïve, giggly and infatuated Lando got so close with Carlos so quickly, it’s almost nauseating. And then after they were no longer teammates!!!! Carlos is still one of the first people he seeks out to celebrate with (Singapore 2023 hug, forever famous,,,) he goes out to dinner with his FAMILY (Mexican gp 2024,,,,), it’s insane.

They’re clearly still so connected to each other despite no longer having any formal ties — they can’t break their orbit. (Also, why did we stop talking about Brazil 2023 when they rented a house together and everyone’s pretty sure they cheated either with each other or the same model????? Hilarious)

3. Landoscar

This one is fun to analyze for the progression and the new dynamic it presents. Lando’s always been the junior teammate despite being the number one driver — and he acted accordingly. But now he’s in a leadership position after a weird inter-term implosion, and it’s just Some Guy??????? But the way they warm up to each other, the way Oscar starts to understand how to read Lando during their PR videos, THE HESITANCY AND DELICACY OF ONE OF THEIR FIRST TOUCHES (Silverstone fan stage 2023), the way that they allude to their private interactions without ever actually showing them????????

They’re infatuating to analyze in the same way that a Victorian romance is — the details are so small and drawn out that it makes everything feel heightened, scandalous.

4. Piarles

The TRUE childhood friends to lovers angle is criminally underrated in this fandom; we get an approximation from so many of the drivers, since they all grew up racing, but Charles and Pierre went on family vacations together. Pierre calls Charles nicknames that no one else does. He constantly brings him up in interviews, they’re always gossiping before races, they hang out at private events in the off season!!!!!!!

It’s further compelled, I think, when you consider the different level of notoriety they have. Pierre is often out of the spotlight, he has nowhere near the cult following that Charles has garnered. When it comes to someone you’ve known and loved your entire life, how do you deal with that, you know????

[dragonsongmakhali]

brain wave, main wave psycho's got a high kick 🎧

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

masterlist

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,”

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[echoes-of-hee]

— Off My Face LHS

PAIRING ; crush!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE ; high school romance, angst, fluff!

TAGLIST ; @honeyybbuubblleess @heeverseblog @aubaee @hveanlyanqelic @rayofsunshineeee @honeychocos @skzenhalove

Wc ; 8.5k+

Warning(s) ; Mild language and emotional themes, including heartbreak and unrequited love.

SYNOPSIS ; You never thought sitting next to Lee Heeseung, the school’s golden boy, would change your world. The moment your teacher paired you with him for the year, a mix of excitement and nerves hit you—who wouldn’t feel that way sitting next to the most popular guy in school? Heeseung was the definition of charming: good looks, top of the class, and basically every girl's heartthrob. But you? You never really saw yourself falling for him—love just wasn’t your thing, or so you thought.

That changed real quick.

Notes. This story is based on a real experience I went through. But don’t worry though, unlike mine, this one will have a happy ending. (AHH IT'S FINALLY HERE, I COULDN'T HELP BUT TO POST IT EARLIER 😭.. ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR BAMBI BOY!! HE'S GROWN SO MUCH 🥹, and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do <3

The sun streamed through the window, casting a soft golden light into the room, as laughter and chatter filled the air. The midterm exams had just ended, and all the students, still buzzing with energy, were busy talking about the exam answers. You were in the middle of chatting with your friends when the classroom door swung open, and the teacher walked in.

Immediately, the class president stood up, prompting the rest of the students to follow with a chorus of greetings. The teacher gave a brief nod, signaling for everyone to sit down, and the room fell into a hushed silence. She glanced around, her eyes settling on the group of eager faces.

"I would like to make new seat arrangements based on your grades," she began, her voice firm but calm. "And before any of you start, I'm not accepting any complaints or 'no's' from you. This is final."

A collective groan rippled through the class. You exchanged glances with your friends, rolling your eyes along with them as the usual grumbling started. "This is so unfair," someone whispered behind you. Another student muttered, "I was finally sitting next to my best friend."

The teacher started calling out names based on the new seating chart. One by one, your classmates were assigned their new spots. When it was your friend's turn, you were practically begging, whispering “Nooo,” while fake crying dramatically as she laughed along with you, both dreading the separation.

Then, it was finally your turn.

"Y/N," the teacher said, scanning her list, "you'll be sitting next to... Lee Heeseung."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mind went blank for a second. Lee Heeseung? Of all people? You glanced over at him, sitting casually in his seat, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, your friend shot you a wide-eyed look, biting back a grin as if this were some huge inside joke.

You tried to play it cool, but inside, your stomach was doing flips. Heeseung was the guy everyone liked—smart, good-looking, and effortlessly charming. You, on the other hand, were just… you. Sitting next to him was going to be interesting, to say the least.

As students began moving to their new seats, you grabbed your stuff, your nerves creeping in. "Good luck," your friend whispered with a teasing smirk, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

You rolled your eyes, forcing a smile. "Thanks, I'll need it."

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to your new seat next to Heeseung. He looked up as you approached, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Looks like we’re seatmates," he said casually, shifting to make room for you.

"Yeah, lucky me," you mumbled, trying not to sound too awkward as you sat down. You could feel the curious glances from your classmates, and your friend was definitely still staring from across the room.

This was going to be an interesting year.

The lesson started, and the awkward tension between you and Heeseung was palpable. You could feel it hanging in the air like an invisible wall, both of you too polite to acknowledge it. As usual, the teacher began calling out names to read from the textbook, and you silently prayed yours wouldn’t be next. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself in front of him.

Your heart raced as the teacher continued down the list, getting closer and closer. You could feel the nervousness creeping in, and the fact that Heeseung was sitting right next to you only made it worse. What if you stuttered? What if you sounded dumb? What if Heeseung thought you were weird or—

“Y/N!” the teacher’s voice cut through your anxious thoughts.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes widening in panic. Your hands suddenly felt clammy as you fumbled to find the right page, the sound of your heartbeat almost deafening. You could feel Heeseung glance at you, probably sensing your nerves.

Taking a shaky breath, you started reading, praying your voice wouldn’t betray you.

Luckily, you didn’t stumble over the words, but your voice was practically shaking as you read aloud. Each sentence felt like it dragged on forever, and you were hyper-aware of every small mistake you thought you made. You could feel your face getting warmer, but you powered through, forcing yourself to stay calm.

When you finally finished, the teacher nodded and moved on to the next student. Relief washed over you, but not before you snuck a quick glance at Heeseung. He wasn’t laughing or smirking like you feared—he was just listening, completely unfazed.

"Not bad," he whispered quietly enough so only you could hear, a small smile playing on his lips.

You blinked, surprised. "Uh, thanks," you mumbled back, feeling your face heat up even more. Was that… a compliment?

As the lesson continued, you couldn’t help but feel slightly more relaxed. Maybe sitting next to Heeseung wasn’t going to be as terrifying as you thought.

The bell rang, signaling the start of recess, and the classroom immediately buzzed with movement. Everyone was quick to get up from their seats, excited to escape the lesson and catch up with their friends. You didn’t even spare a glance at Heeseung as you hurried out of the room, spotting your friends waiting for you just outside.

You all made your way to your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria, chatting and laughing as you settled in. It was your routine—your little spot, away from the chaos of the rest of the school.

"Oh my god," one of your friends groaned, breaking the flow of conversation. "Why does it have to be a boy sitting next to me? I hate this so much!"

"For real!" another friend chimed in, nodding along. "But I’m lucky. My seatmate’s someone I actually know, so I’m good."

Then, your friend turned to you, a teasing smirk already forming on her face. "What about you, Y/N? How do you feel about your new seatmate?"

You felt all eyes on you, and you immediately knew they were about to make this a big deal. With a small shrug, you tried to play it cool. "It’s… fine, I guess?"

But your friend wasn’t letting you off that easily. "C’mon," she leaned in, her grin widening. "You’re sitting next to Lee Heeseung. You can’t tell me that’s just ‘fine.’ What’s it like being next to Mr. Perfect?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "It’s not that deep," you said, but deep down, you knew this was only the beginning of their teasing.

Your friend wasn’t buying it, and the teasing only intensified. “Not that deep?” she repeated with a laugh, giving you a playful nudge. “Girl, please. You’ve got front-row seats to the Lee Heeseung every single day.”

Another one of your friends joined in, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, don’t act like you don’t notice the way the girls practically swoon over him. He’s like the school’s It boy.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to escape this. “Okay, yeah, he’s popular and all, but it’s not like I’m gonna suddenly fall for him just because we’re seatmates.”

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and you could tell they were holding back smirks. “Sure, sure,” one of them said, drawing out the words. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before you could protest, another one added, “Just don’t fall too hard when he starts helping you with math or something. I can already picture the movie moment where he leans over your desk, all close and—”

You covered your face, groaning. “Can we not do this?”

But they were having too much fun now. “We’re just looking out for you,” your friend teased. “You know, so when the romance sparks start flying, you’re not totally caught off guard.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, their teasing left a slight flutter in your chest. Sure, Heeseung was charming and popular, but that didn’t mean anything would actually happen between you two… right?

Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The following weeks felt like a blur, almost like you were floating through a dream. You and Heeseung were still awkward around each other, but somehow, he always found a way to make things less tense. He’d casually help you out during class or lean over to ask for answers to questions he didn’t know, and you’d try to keep your cool, even though your heart raced every time.

Each time he spoke to you, you felt your nerves spike. Eye contact? That was a whole other challenge. Sure, you managed to look him in the eye once or twice, but it was always for a brief moment before you quickly glanced away, pretending to be focused on something else.

You played it cool, or at least you hoped you did. On the outside, you kept your composure, nodding along and responding like it was no big deal. But inside, your thoughts were a whirlwind. How was he so effortlessly charming, and why was it so hard for you to act normal around him?

Heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all. He would flash his easy-going smile whenever he helped you, and if he noticed your awkwardness, he didn’t show it. Instead, he’d just laugh lightly and say something like, "Don't worry, I get it," making you wonder if he somehow knew you were struggling to keep it together.

Despite the awkwardness, there was something about those moments that made you look forward to seeing him each day. But you weren’t about to let yourself get carried away—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

It was science class, and you found yourself once again partnered with Heeseung, this time in a group of five. The group quickly arranged the tasks, deciding who would handle each part of the experiment. You were assigned the responsibility of writing the experimental notes—the detailed steps and observations that had to be recorded.

While the others were busy with the actual hands-on part of the experiment, you sat quietly, jotting down what you could. The room was filled with the sounds of bubbling chemicals, clinking glassware, and quiet murmurs from other groups. You were focused on your writing when you heard someone approach.

"Y/n?" It was Heeseung’s voice.

You glanced up, heart skipping slightly. "Yeah?" you responded, trying to sound casual.

Heeseung leaned over slightly, pointing at the notes. "The next step for the experiment involves using the eraser. It’s to demonstrate static charge. You know, like in the second part of the list.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment, feeling a wave of confusion wash over you. Wait, what? You glanced down at your notes, feeling a bit lost. How did you miss that? Your eyes flickered with nervousness, and you looked back up at him, biting your lip. "Uh... could you repeat that again?"

You felt a pang of embarrassment, wondering how such a simple thing slipped past you. Before you could spiral into overthinking, Heeseung chuckled lightly, his expression softening. He leaned in just slightly closer and started explaining again, this time slower and more patiently.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said calmly, as if sensing your nerves. “We just need to use the eraser to create static for the next part of the experiment. It’s basically to show how the charge affects the materials. Simple stuff.”

You blinked, finally grasping what he was saying. "Ahh, okay, I get it now," you said, nodding along, relieved that he explained it in such a kind way without making you feel dumb.

Heeseung gave you a reassuring smile before going back to the group. For a brief moment, you let out a breath, thankful that he didn’t make a big deal out of it.

You watched as Heeseung returned to the group, his presence effortlessly drawing everyone's attention. It amazed you how naturally he navigated through the chaos of the experiment, guiding the others and laughing at the little mishaps along the way. You couldn’t help but admire how he managed to make even the most mundane tasks seem fun.

With newfound focus, you returned to your notes, writing down the steps as clearly as you could. The warmth from Heeseung’s smile lingered in your mind, and you felt a little more confident. Maybe this partnership wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the experiment continued, you occasionally glanced at Heeseung. He was genuinely engaged, explaining concepts to his teammates while effortlessly keeping the atmosphere light. You found yourself smiling at how he could turn the stress of science class into something enjoyable.

“Y/N, can you hand me that beaker?” one of your group members called out, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Sure!” you replied, grabbing the beaker and passing it over. But as you did, you caught Heeseung’s eye again. He gave you a small thumbs-up, as if acknowledging your contribution. Your heart fluttered, and you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on your notes.

As the class went on, Heeseung began to engage with you more. “Hey, what’s the next step?” he asked, leaning over slightly to peek at your notes.

You pointed to the relevant section, trying to sound confident. “We just need to record the results from the static charge experiment. Then we’ll analyze the data.”

He nodded, and as he leaned in closer, you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “You’re really good at this, you know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You felt a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Thanks, but I’m just following the instructions,” you replied, trying to brush it off.

Heeseung shrugged, his gaze steady. “Still, it takes a lot to keep everything organized like this. You’re doing great.”

His compliment caught you off guard, and you found yourself unable to respond immediately. Instead, you just nodded, a smile creeping onto your face despite your attempts to play it cool.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you felt a sense of reluctance wash over you. You packed your things, glancing at Heeseung one last time as he gathered his own materials. He caught your eye and smiled again, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart race.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he said, his voice light.

“Yeah, see you,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even as you walked out of the classroom feeling giddy. Maybe, just maybe, this partnership was turning into something more than you ever expected.

It was PE time, and you and your friends lounged in the garden, talking and laughing like typical teenagers. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, creating a perfect backdrop for your carefree moments together. Yet, despite the joy around you, your thoughts kept drifting back to Heeseung. Each day, it felt like you were falling deeper for him, and the realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t really a match for you. You and Heeseung felt like the skies and the ground—so different in every way. He was the charming, good-looking star everyone adored, while you were just... well, average. You were pretty enough, sure, but he was on a whole different level. It felt hopeless to even think about the possibility of something between you.

Just as you were lost in these thoughts, your friend interrupted you. "baby girl, you good?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, a little weirded out by the sudden nickname. “Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, trying to brush off your inner turmoil.

But your friend wasn’t convinced. She stared at you, a knowing look in her eyes that made you squirm. “Oh yeah? You sure it wasn’t about Heeseung you were thinking about?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know...?”

She laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Girl, please. It’s written all over your face! You’re practically glowing at the mention of his name. You’re like a total lovesick puppy.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and you buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Okay, okay! Maybe I was thinking about him. But it’s not like it matters, He’s out of my league..”

Your friend waved her hands dismissively. “Stop with that nonsense! You never know what could happen. Besides, you guys are paired up for the whole year. That’s practically fate!”

“Fate?” you echoed, trying to suppress a laugh. “That sounds way too dramatic.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” she declared, striking a pose that made you giggle. “But seriously, you need to at least admit you have a crush on him.”

You shook your head, though you couldn’t suppress the smile forming on your lips. “Fine, maybe I have a little crush. But that doesn’t change anything. He’s still Heeseung, and I’m still… well, me.”

Your friend rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. “Stop doubting yourself y/n, you’re amazing just the way you are. Just remember, confidence is key. If you like him, you should just go for it!”

You couldn’t help but think about what she said. Maybe there was a chance, however slim, that things could change. With that thought lingering in your mind, you looked up to see Heeseung walking across the field, laughing with his friends. Your heart raced, and you quickly turned away, trying to mask the flutter of excitement.

Your friend nudged you, her voice low and teasing. “Look! There he is. Are you going to keep pretending you don’t like him huh?”

You let out a laugh, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. “Shut up! Just let me think for a second.”

But as you watched him from a distance, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for you after all.

One week later, your teacher announced that you guys would be having a practice speaking test.

The day finally came, and it was your group’s turn for the test. You had spent the previous night practicing in front of the mirror, trying to perfect your pronunciation, gestures, and confidence. You told yourself over and over that everything would be fine, that you’d get through this without any issues. You were sure of it. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

As the test began, you watched Heeseung go first, his delivery smooth and effortless. He spoke with such ease, barely pausing for breath, his voice calm and composed. Every word was clear, and you couldn’t help but admire how flawless he was under pressure. Of course, Heeseung would ace this, like he did with everything else.

When he finished, the teacher nodded in approval, and your heart sank. Now it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stood up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Just relax, you got this, you thought, trying to calm your racing heart. But the moment you opened your mouth to speak, your mind went blank.

For a split second, you stood there frozen, staring at the paper in front of you. No, no, no. Not now, you panicked internally. You had practiced this a hundred times last night, and now the words seemed to have disappeared completely.

Glancing over at Heeseung, you saw him looking at you with a reassuring smile, as if silently telling you that you could do this. His confidence somehow made you feel even more nervous. What if you failed? What if he thought you were a complete mess?

You cleared your throat and started speaking, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nerves. You tried to push through, but the pressure was overwhelming. Halfway through, you stumbled over your words, losing your train of thought completely.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you could feel your palms getting sweaty. The silence in the room was deafening, and you desperately wished you could disappear. But then, you heard a soft whisper next to you.

“Talk about the part where…” Heeseung whispered quietly, his voice just low enough for only you to hear.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. His words nudged you in the right direction, reminding you of the next point you needed to make. You picked up where you left off, feeling a bit more grounded thanks to his subtle help.

You managed to finish your part, though not as smoothly as you had hoped, but it was done. The teacher gave a nod of approval, and you finally sat back down, letting out a sigh of relief.

Heeseung glanced at you with a knowing smile, and you mouthed a quick “thank you” to him. He just winked, his expression relaxed and calm, as if what he did was no big deal.

And maybe to him it wasn’t, but to you, it meant everything.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and you gathered your things, still feeling the rush of relief from having survived the speaking test. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since you sat back down. Heeseung’s small act of kindness played over and over in your head, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered.

As you were putting your books into your bag, Heeseung casually leaned over. "You did fine, you know?" he said with a small smile, his voice gentle.

You blinked, looking up at him. "I don’t know about that… but thanks. I almost messed it up completely."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Everyone gets nervous. Besides, you recovered. That’s what matters."

You felt your face heat up again, the nerves from earlier creeping back in but for a different reason. There was something about the way he spoke so casually to you, like it was the easiest thing in the world, that made you feel... seen. And not in a bad way, but in a way that made you want to hide and smile at the same time.

"Thanks," you said again, your voice softer this time.

He nodded, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he said before walking out of the classroom, his steps unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

You stood there for a moment, watching him leave, the small interaction replaying in your mind. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was enough to leave you standing there, your heart doing flips.

As you met up with your friends in the hallway, they immediately bombarded you with questions. "How was the test? Did you survive?" one of them asked, clearly joking but knowing full well how nervous you’d been.

You laughed, though it was a little shaky. "Barely. I messed up, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be."

Your friend smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "And how was Heeseung? You guys were partnered up again, right?"

At the mention of his name, your heart did a weird little jump. "Yeah, he was fine. Helped me out a bit, actually," you admitted, trying to keep your voice nonchalant.

Your friends exchanged looks, their smirks growing wider. "Oh, really? He helped you out? How sweet," they teased, clearly enjoying the flustered look on your face.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "It wasn’t a big deal."

But deep down, you knew it was a big deal to you. Every small moment with Heeseung felt significant, like they were adding up to something bigger, something you weren’t quite ready to admit.

As you walked through the hallways with your friends, laughing and joking like you always did, you couldn’t help but think back to the way Heeseung had smiled at you after the test. Maybe it was nothing, just him being nice, but maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

And that thought stayed with you, lingering in the back of your mind long after the school day ended.

Weeks had passed, turning into months, and the feelings you had tried so hard to ignore began to grow stronger. You had fallen for Heeseung. It was impossible not to—the way he always approached you with that warm, easy smile, how he helped you with subjects you struggled with, and those fleeting glances he’d give you whenever you bumped into each other in the halls. You started to believe that maybe—just maybe—he was interested in you, too.

You found yourself talking about him with your friends every day, the smallest interactions suddenly feeling like monumental moments. You would gush over the way he spoke to you, the way he seemed to make everything around him brighter. Your friends teased you, calling it a classic high school crush, but to you, it felt like something more. Something real.

But one day, everything came crashing down.

You were absent from school on Monday, feeling under the weather, but by Tuesday, you were back. As usual, you arrived late, sneaking into class and slipping into your seat quietly. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for him like you always did. When you found him, he was sitting with his friends, talking and laughing as usual. For a brief moment, your heart warmed at the sight, the same butterflies fluttering inside you.

But then, you saw her.

Aera, one of your classmates, walked into the classroom, and you noticed how Heeseung’s friends immediately nudged him, teasing smiles on their faces as she passed by them. Heeseung’s face lit up, his eyes following her for a second too long. It was subtle, but you caught it.

That pang in your chest hit you like a ton of bricks.

You stared, frozen in your seat, watching as the scene unfolded in front of you. Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair as his friends continued to nudge him, clearly teasing him about Aera. You didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know what it was about.

It was so obvious.

The way his friends teased him when she walked by, the way Heeseung didn’t deny it but instead just laughed along—it all made sense now. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. The occasional glances, the small smiles, the casual conversations… they weren’t special, at least not the way you thought they were. They were just… normal.

You felt your stomach twist, a wave of nausea washing over you as the truth settled in. He wasn’t interested in you. He was interested in her.

For the rest of the day, that pang in your chest refused to go away. You tried to focus on class, on anything but him, but it was impossible. Every time you glanced in his direction, you saw him laughing with his friends, glancing at Aera when he thought no one was looking.

And just like that, the small world you had built in your head—where maybe Heeseung liked you back—came crashing down.

You plopped onto your bed, your heart aching as tears began to well up in your eyes. The overwhelming emotions you’d been bottling up finally spilled over. “Why does this hurt so much?” you sobbed, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your face in them. Each sob seemed to echo the ache deep in your chest, and you couldn’t stop the flood of tears that followed.

You tilted your head to the side, staring blankly at the wall as the pieces fell into place. So this is why… you thought bitterly. This is why Heeseung always teased Aera, why he would borrow her school supplies when he could’ve easily asked you. You replayed the small moments in your head, moments where you thought he was being distant, but now you realized it wasn’t distance—it was focus. Focus on her, not you.

Every little thing made sense now, and with that realization came an even deeper sense of pain. He wasn’t shy around you; he simply didn’t feel anything special toward you. He wasn’t nervous when you caught him glancing your way; he was probably looking past you to catch a glimpse of her.

You chuckled bitterly, the sound hollow and broken. “How pathetic…” you whispered, wiping away another tear. You had been so naive, thinking that he was interested in you. You convinced yourself that his little acts of kindness meant more than they did. The way he helped you during the speaking test, the fleeting eye contact, the small smiles—they were nothing but common decency.

Your tears blurred your vision as you thought back to every moment you’d replayed in your head over the past months, building it up into something that it never was. You were just a hopeless romantic, falling for someone who was never meant to fall for you.

The next day, you barely dragged yourself out of bed. The thought of going to school, facing Heeseung and Aera, felt unbearable. You were emotionally drained from staying up all night, crying over him—how stupid it seemed in hindsight. But feelings couldn’t be forced, and your heart ached in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

When you finally made it to school, you kept your head down, blending into the background as much as possible. The day went by in a blur, each lesson blending into the next. Every time the teacher left the classroom, you could hear Heeseung’s friends snickering and teasing him whenever Aera was nearby. It stung, and only God knew how much you wanted to disappear every time they talked. The painful reality was right in front of you, and there was no escaping it.

You weren’t sure how you managed to hold it together. You felt like a mess, like you were barely keeping it together. And it must have shown, because at some point, Heeseung glanced at you, concern flickering across his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

Is it that obvious? you thought. You didn’t trust yourself to speak much, so you just nodded, not even sparing him a glance. You couldn’t.

Math class rolled around, and as usual, you were struggling. Numbers and formulas swam before your tired eyes, but today, you didn’t even consider asking for Heeseung’s help like you usually did. There was no way you could face him, not after everything. Instead, you kept your head down, trying to make sense of the problem in front of you, even though it felt like trying to read a foreign language.

"You need help with that?" His voice broke through the silence, and for a split second, your heart twinged at the familiarity of it.

But you shook your head quickly, keeping your eyes glued to the textbook. "No, I can manage," you muttered, even though you knew you couldn’t.

There was a pause, and you could feel him watching you. "Alright," he said, sounding slightly hesitant, "just tell me if you need help. I'm always here."

You didn't respond. You didn’t have the energy to. All you could do was nod, your eyes still fixed on the page in front of you. His words echoed in your head—I'm always here—but they felt hollow now. It was like the safety net you once felt around him had disappeared, replaced by the reality that his attention was somewhere else, on someone else.

You bit your lip, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You were going to get through this. You had to. But right now, everything still hurt.

The rest of the day dragged on painfully. You went through the motions—attending classes, taking notes, and exchanging small talk with your friends—but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the ache in your chest. Every time Heeseung laughed with his friends or shared a casual smile with Aera, it felt like a fresh stab to your heart.

By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you were more than ready to leave. You packed your things quickly, avoiding any lingering glances in Heeseung’s direction. Your friends noticed your quieter-than-usual demeanor, but they didn’t press you too much. You gave them a half-hearted smile and told them you were just tired.

As you walked home, the familiar streets blurred in your peripheral vision. The conversations and laughter from your classmates echoed in your mind, but you felt distant from it all. You replayed Heeseung’s words in math class, the way he had offered to help like he always did. It was almost painful how effortlessly kind he was, even when you were trying to distance yourself.

By the time you reached your house, the emotional exhaustion had fully set in. You threw your bag onto the floor, kicked off your shoes, and collapsed onto your bed once more. The quiet of your room wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, but it didn’t erase the feelings bubbling just beneath the surface.

You stared at the ceiling, thoughts spinning. Why did I have to fall for him? you wondered for what felt like the hundredth time. Heeseung was everything you could’ve asked for in a person—kind, smart, charming. But the reality was, you were just a background character in his story. No matter how much you wished it were different, Aera was the one who held his attention.

You rolled onto your side, hugging your pillow tightly as a fresh wave of sadness washed over you. It wasn’t fair, but you knew life wasn’t about fairness. You’d get over this, eventually, but right now, it just hurt.

Before you could sink further into your thoughts, your phone buzzed beside you. You reached over to check it, blinking at the screen. It was a message from one of your friends.

Bestiee<3: “Are you okay? You seemed kinda off today. Let’s hang out this weekend, okay? We can binge some shows and forget about school for a while. 🫶”

You smiled weakly at the text, appreciating the gesture. Maybe you did need a break, a chance to step away from everything and focus on yourself for a bit.

You: “Yeah, sounds good. Thanks for checking in.”

You put your phone down and sighed. Maybe hanging out with your friends could help distract you from the mess of feelings swirling inside. Maybe you just needed time, a reminder that your world wasn’t falling apart—at least not completely.

But for now, you let the quiet fill the room again, allowing yourself to feel whatever it was you needed to feel. Tomorrow was another day and maybe, it would hurt a little less.

You had fun hanging out with your friends over the week, trying to distract yourself from the lingering hurt in your heart. After all, you were just a human with feelings, and it was hard to shake off the emotional weight that Heeseung’s unexpected interest in Aera had brought.

As Heeseung's birthday approached, he invited you to his party. You wavered, unsure if you should go, especially since Aera would likely be there. But in the end, you forced yourself to attend, not wanting to let your own insecurities ruin a chance to celebrate someone you cared about.

You decided to buy him a beanie—something he had once casually mentioned loving during a conversation.

“What’s your favorite stuff?” you had asked, genuinely curious.

“Why do you ask?” He had chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Just curious,” you replied, keeping it light.

“Hmmm, I like stuff like beanies?” he said with a smile.

“A beanie lover, I see?” you teased back.

“You could say that,” he laughed, and in that moment, you felt a warmth inside, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he noticed you too.

The day of the party arrived, and you found yourself standing in front of his house, heart racing. His maid greeted you at the door, a welcoming smile on her face.

“Mr. Lee is currently with his friends. You can go around the house and have fun,” she said.

“Okay, thank you!” you replied, trying to sound upbeat while gripping the gift a little tighter.

Just then, someone touched your shoulder, making you jump slightly. You turned to see one of Heeseung's friends, a friendly smile on his face.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, and… you are?” you replied, forcing a smile that felt a little shaky.

“I’m Jake, Heeseung’s friend. C’mon, let’s go upstairs. Heeseung and the others are there too.”

“Alright!” you nodded, following him as you tried to suppress your nerves.

As you both ascended the staircase, the sound of laughter and chatter grew louder. Jake opened the door, revealing Heeseung surrounded by his friends, and—your stomach dropped—Aera was there too.

You gulped, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you as you gripped the gift tighter, your heart racing.

“Heeseung!” Jake called, and your gaze met Heeseung’s.

His face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his features. “Y/n! You made it!”

“Hey,” you said, forcing a smile, though your heart felt heavy.

“Come in! We’re just about to start the games!” he said, motioning for you to enter.

You stepped inside, trying to shake off the nerves. The atmosphere was lively, filled with excitement and laughter, but as you caught sight of Aera leaning closer to Heeseung, the pang in your heart returned. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to enjoy the night, even if it was bittersweet.

You found yourself sitting on the couch, watching the group play games, trying to force a smile as laughter filled the room. But each joyful sound felt like a dagger in your heart. Your gaze drifted to Heeseung, who was seated next to Aera. The sight of them together was almost unbearable. They leaned into each other, sharing jokes and secrets that felt intimate.

Heeseung leaned closer to Aera, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh—a sound so light and carefree, it sent a pang of longing through you. As she playfully touched his arm, you noticed a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. That was the final straw. You had thought you could handle this, that you had moved on at least a little, but it was clear you hadn’t.

With a heavy heart, you got up from the couch, the laughter around you fading into a dull hum. You left his gift on the table, a beanie wrapped neatly in colorful paper, and turned to leave.

“Y/N?” you heard Heeseung call out, but the sound felt distant as you stepped out of the room. You staggered down the stairs, your heart racing, desperate to escape the painful scene.

Once outside, you reached for your phone, your fingers shaking as you called an Uber. As you waited, you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined to hold it together.

The car pulled up, and you quickly climbed in, giving the driver your address in a barely audible whisper. As the car drove away, you stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur together. The ache in your chest was unbearable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever really be able to move on from Heeseung.

You were absent for the whole week, locking yourself in your room and feeling like you were rotting away. Your parents were worried, knocking on your door to encourage you to eat breakfast and dinner, but you kept silent, too engulfed in your own thoughts to respond. You ignored all your friends' calls and messages, including Heeseung's. His voice echoed in your mind—concerned, maybe even a little confused—but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

After days of isolation, you finally decided to return to school. You knew this wasn’t right; losing yourself over a boy wasn’t okay. You shouldn’t let your feelings for Heeseung consume you like this. So, with a heavy heart and a resolve to reclaim your life, you reluctantly headed to school.

The moment you stepped inside, you could feel Heeseung's gaze on you. Your heart raced as you glanced his way, and for a moment, everything felt overwhelming again. He furrowed his brows in concern, looking back at you with an intensity that made you want to look away.

You had told your teacher that you wanted to change seats because you couldn’t focus being so close to him. You had begged her over and over until she finally relented, and now you were grateful for that distance.

You settled into your new seat, avoiding his eyes as you rested your head on your arms, trying to shield yourself from the onslaught of emotions. The classroom felt different, quieter somehow, as if the air had thickened with the unspoken tension between you. Despite the chatter of your classmates, all you could think about was how much you missed the comfort of Heeseung's presence—yet how painful it had become to be near him.

As the lesson began, you could feel Heeseung's eyes occasionally flickering towards you, a subtle reminder that he was still there, still worried. But you kept your gaze fixed on the teacher, focusing on the words spilling from her mouth, willing yourself to forget everything else, if only for a moment.

The lesson droned on, but you struggled to concentrate. Your mind kept wandering back to Heeseung—the way he smiled, the sound of his laughter, and the warmth of his presence. Each fleeting memory felt like a double-edged sword, cutting deeper into your resolve to move on.

Suddenly, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Students started to gather their things, but you remained still, unwilling to face the inevitable rush of conversations and glances. You heard Heeseung’s voice, low and tentative, cutting through the chatter.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his tone filled with concern. You could feel his eyes on you, and the warmth of his gaze was both comforting and painful.

You took a deep breath, pretending to rummage through your backpack as if you hadn’t heard him. You didn’t want to face him—not yet. But as you stood up to leave, you felt a presence beside you. It was Heeseung, standing a mere foot away, his expression serious.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, heart racing. Part of you wanted to say yes, to hear what he had to say, but another part feared that it would only lead to more heartache.

“Y/N, please,” he pressed, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of acknowledgment. You finally met his gaze and saw the worry etched on his face.

“Fine.” you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. You followed him out of the classroom and into the hallway, where the noise of students chatting and laughing surrounded you like a whirlwind.

He led you to a quieter corner, away from prying eyes. The air felt thick with tension as you both stood there, unsure of how to start.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “You disappeared for a week. I tried to reach you, but… you didn’t answer.”

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “I just needed some time to myself.”

“Is it about Aera?”

Your eyes flickered with a mix of shock and frustration. “No.”

Heeseung stepped closer, concern deepening in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not what you think. Aera and I… we’re just friends. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“Look, Heeseung, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave me alone. Please.”

His expression shifted, confusion and hurt crossing his features. “Y/N, I—”

“I said I need space!” you interrupted, your voice sharper than intended.

Heeseung paused, taking a step back as if your words had struck him. “Okay, I get it. Just… know that I care about you.”

With that, he turned away, leaving you in the quiet corner, your heart racing from the confrontation. You felt a mix of anger and sadness wash over you, but deep down, you knew that you needed to process your feelings on your own.

As you walked away, you could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you, but you steeled yourself, determined to navigate through this turmoil alone, at least for now.

A month later, graduation was approaching, and you hadn’t spoken to Heeseung since that fateful day. You did your best to ignore him, avoiding him at all costs. But if you were honest with yourself, you missed his presence. The vibrant energy he brought into your life felt absent, leaving a void that you couldn’t quite fill.

You had blocked him on all social media, determined to cut ties and free yourself from any concern about him. Yet, as days passed, you noticed something strange: Heeseung and Aera were no longer seen together. You wondered what had happened between them but quickly brushed it off as not being your problem. They were probably just busy or having private conversations.

As graduation day approached, your class decided to throw a party to celebrate. You wore a simple yet elegant dress that made you feel confident and beautiful. The fabric flowed with each movement, accentuating your figure while remaining understated. Laughter filled the room as you and your friends joked around, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You decided to excuse yourself, needing some fresh air away from the noise.

Stepping onto the balcony, you took a deep breath, letting the cool night air wash over you. The stars twinkled brightly above, reminding you of countless moments spent with Heeseung, those late-night conversations filled with dreams and laughter. You gazed up at the endless sky, pondering what the future held—what your job would be and who your soulmate might turn out to be.

Your moment of tranquility was suddenly disrupted when the door swung open, and someone stepped outside. You turned to see who it was, and your breath caught in your throat. It was Heeseung, the very person you had been avoiding for months.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to react. “What are you doing here, Heeseung?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tremor betrayed your nerves.

He stepped closer, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, a nervous habit you had come to recognize. “I’ve been thinking a lot since we last talked. I wanted to talk to you… I-i need to get something off my chest.”

You folded your arms, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I liked Aera at one point. Sure she was fun, and I thought I could see a future with her. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized… she wasn’t the one I truly wanted.”

Your heart raced, unsure where this was going. You could feel the tension in the air, thick with unspoken words.

He continued, glancing down as if searching for courage. “I thought maybe it was just a crush, but then I realized I was just trying to fill a void. It was you I missed, Y/N. Your laughter, your kindness, the way you make everything feel brighter. You’ve been the one on my mind all along, and it’s time I finally admit it.”

He shifted on his feet, his cheeks slightly flushed as he caught your gaze. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. “I fell in love with you, Y/N. I didn’t understand it at first, but now I can’t ignore it anymore. I’ve realized that you’re the one I’ve been longing for.”

You stood there, taken aback by his confession. The mix of feelings you had buried came rushing back, a wave of confusion, hope, and the remnants of your heartache.

“I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that,” he added, taking a small step forward, his gaze locking onto yours. “You mean more to me than I realized. I just… I really love you, Y/N.”

You took a breath, feeling the weight of his words settle in your heart. Memories flooded your mind: the way he made you laugh, how he always knew what to say to brighten your day, and the comfort of his presence. You remembered the late-night study sessions, the deep conversations about dreams and fears, and how easy it was to be around him.

“Honestly, Heeseung,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “I’ve missed you too. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I tried to push you out of my mind, but it just didn’t work. I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, relief washing over his face. “You mean that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “I thought I could just move on, but it hasn’t been the same without you. I guess… I was scared.”

Heeseung took another step closer, hope shining in his gaze. “Scared of what?”

“Scared that I’d let myself feel something for you again, and then it would hurt even more if it didn’t work out,” you confessed, vulnerability pouring from you.

Heeseung’s gaze deepened as he listened intently, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and longing. “I get it. I’ve felt the same way. But I’m here now, and I want to try. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the familiar warmth spreading through you. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

In that moment, the distance that had felt insurmountable shrank, leaving only the two of you in a world filled with possibilities. Heeseung’s fingers brushed against your arm, sending a spark of electricity through you.

“Can we start over?” he asked, his voice low and sincere. “Take it slow this time?”

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As the night sky stretched above you, you both stood together, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you, a soothing reminder of the passage of time. Heeseung shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, and the warmth of his presence enveloped you.

“Remember when we used to talk about our dreams?” he asked, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips. “I used to think about how nice it would be to share those moments with someone special.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, recalling the late-night conversations that had felt so effortless. “Yeah, I remember. We talked about traveling, our goals, and even silly things like our favorite ice cream flavors.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I still stand by my favorite being mint chocolate chip.”

“Ugh, that’s the worst flavor,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“Hey!” Heeseung laughed, the sound light and carefree, like music to your ears. “You just don’t appreciate the refreshing taste!”

The playful banter felt familiar and comforting, a reminder of the bond you shared. You both leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the shimmering lights of the city below, the vibrant energy reflecting the emotions swirling within you.

“I’ve missed this,” Heeseung admitted, his voice turning softer. “I’ve missed you.”

Your heart fluttered at his honesty. “I’ve missed you too. It’s hard to explain, but life felt dull without you around.”

Heeseung’s gaze locked onto yours, the weight of his words resonating in the air. “I promise to be here for you this time. I won’t take our moments for granted again.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “I believe you.”

As you stood there, side by side, the world around you faded into the background. It was just you and Heeseung, two hearts that had weathered a storm, ready to embrace whatever the future held.

The air was charged with a mix of nervous energy and undeniable chemistry, and you felt a shift—a spark that ignited the promise of something more. You turned to him, your pulse racing.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung smiled, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes. “Well, first, I think I need to make it up to you for being such an idiot.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?”

He stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. “How about I take you out for ice cream? You can choose the flavor, even if it’s the ‘worst’ one.”

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree. “Deal. But you might regret it when I choose something crazy.”

“I can handle it,” he replied confidently, his smile infectious. “Just don’t be too mean to my mint chocolate chip.”

As you shared a laugh, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the warmth of rekindled feelings. The future was uncertain, but with Heeseung by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever came next.

As you both made plans for ice cream and more late-night talks, you realized that love wasn’t just a feeling—it was a journey. And together, you were ready to explore every twist and turn, hand in hand.

...

[atzloverr]

Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you

!!!TW: Yandere!!!

warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)

yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them

and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun

masterlist

Hongjoong

cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au

The most jealous of them all

Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him

Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen

Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.

Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.

It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.

When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.

He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.

You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)

Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.

What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.

Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something

You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.

The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.

He knew what you really needed, who you really were.

He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.

The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.

Seonghwa

cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace

Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere

Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you

He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.

As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way

And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him

One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.

Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.

You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.

Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.

No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.

That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.

You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.

You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.

He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.

He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.

After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.

You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.

He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.

He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life

He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.

As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.

He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.

But one night, you did.

Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.

Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic

Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.

He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.

So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.

The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.

Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.

He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.

Yunho

cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho

Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.

Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.

Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.

“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.

“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.

Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.

Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.

He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.

Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.

After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.

You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.

You were going on a date with him.

Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.

It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.

Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.

But not for Yunho.

He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.

As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.

One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.

“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.

You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.

“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.

“I’m not having this conversation—“

“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.

He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.

“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”

You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”

Yunho squinted slightly.

“You know what, yes, I do.”

You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.

“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.

“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.

You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.

You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.

“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.

You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.

“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.

“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You had a rough few days ahead of you.

Yeosang

cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional

His love for you started as a harmless crush.

Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.

It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.

He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life

You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.

He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.

He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.

Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.

He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.

One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)

You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier

“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.

He was surely crazy.

Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence

He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you

When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’

He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you

He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.

San

cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior

You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you

San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk

He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink

When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own

San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame

He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef

“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze

You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.

San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you

“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.

“Yes please,” you muttered out.

As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.

San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder

Oh how things were changed now.

Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk

He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.

San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.

He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.

San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.

He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.

What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame

His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.

When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.

“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.

San only smirked.

“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.

You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.

“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.

“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.

You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.

Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.

“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”

Mingi

cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy

Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school

You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just to lure you in to a mario kart tournament

You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill

Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.

He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else

At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend

But now he was sure it was more than that.

During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.

As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.

Well, that was, until now.

Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.

As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.

The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body, were you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.

So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.

He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.

Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.

Because Mingi was the one.

He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.

Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?

One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…

No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.

“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”

Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.

“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.

You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.

“Yeah, I think he might be.”

You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.

You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.

“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”

Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.

You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.

He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.

You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.

You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.

You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.

He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”

After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.

When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.

“I love you.”

Wooyoung

cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation

Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost

Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you

Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.

Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew

Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond

That was, until you entered the picture

Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her

His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form

You were stunning

He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’

As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something

You were way too good for his best friend

Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.

Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.

It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you

He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him

You were just so much better off without his friend.

Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.

As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”

At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.

Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.

He happened to know his best friend a little too well.

One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.

You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.

He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.

He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.

Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.

After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.

He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.

When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.

Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.

While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend

He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk

Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.

“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”

As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise

Were you really seeing things clearly?

As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion

There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body

Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet

“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”

You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.

You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.

Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body

You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.

“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”

You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.

“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”

Jongho

cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior

The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them

As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on

You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe

He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.

“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.

“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.

The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.

The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.

You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.

“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.

“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.

You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.

After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.

You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.

Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.

Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.

When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.

He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.

Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.

He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.

And indeed, he did find you.

When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.

He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.

He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.

When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.

You didn’t look like yourself.

You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.

You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door

Jongho was at a loss for words.

This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.

With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.

What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.

After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.

After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.

Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.

So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.

He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.

“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.

He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.

“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.

“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.

You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?

“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.

You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.

The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.

“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.

The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.

You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.

“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.

You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.

Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.

Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.

“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.

“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“

A kiss.

That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.

When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.

His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.

“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.

“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”

Hope you enjoyed!!! Requests are open

masterlist

[blvdheart]

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

[chixkencxrry]

Workout

Warnings: SEXUAL THEMES, EXPLICIT SEX, DIRTY TALK. Your consumption of media is on YOU. NOT PROOFED. MDNI.

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE.

Summary: Clark gets a little jealous when you mention working out with someone else. (Slight OOC Clark Kent x Fem! Reader)

***

You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, hands on your knees as you tried to get your breathing regular. In front of you, your boyfriend looked on with an encouraging smile that only seemed to frustrate you. Clenching your fists, you bared your teeth at him in a cynical smile. 

“C’mon, Y/N, you’re doing pretty good.”

“Clark,” you groaned, standing upright. “I will fucking stab you.”

“Kinky.” he joked tossing a charming grin at you. You liked Clark like this. Not wearing the costume of Clark Kent of a meek reporter. He was the charming confident man you loved. Though right now he was an irritant more than someone you loved.

You eyed the apartment building, a few metres off and walked in that direction. Walking straight past Clark who chuckled at your stomps. You didn’t have to look back to know that he was following, albeit a few paces behind. 

“I think you did real good, baby.”

You scoffed. 

“You didn’t take a break once and your pace was great.” 

Eyeroll.

“You’re a natural. I’m so proud of my little girl.”

You stumbled, heart rate picking up. You were sure Clark was smirking behind you. 

“I mean that,” he jogged up to you, opening the front door of the building with a few quick buttons. “You took to it so very well. Maybe tomorrow we don’t need to go so hard.”

Stepping inside the air conditioned foyer you tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks rising with the warmth of his voice. He was enjoying taunting you. You decided to be petty and mention the name of a trainor you’d met offhandedly the last time you’d started going to the gym.“Maybe tomorrow I just go to the gym and let Daniel train me.”

A crater the size of Clark’s left foot dented the floor by the staircase as the two of you turned to the stairwell. You smirked, sniggering as a flush of energy swelled within you and you did your own jog up the stairs.

“Very cute, Y/N. You’re going to pay for that.”

You chuckled, shaking your shoulders and looking back at him, at the bottom of the stairs staring up at you with a gaze that could only be called predatory. Maybe you’d pushed it a bit but Clark should’ve known better than starting you off with a four mile jog on your first day. Did he think everyone was an alien? “Oh, please. Maybe I should trust a licensed trainor. He’ll know better than to push me so hard. He’ll know to take his time with me. Pace me.”

A snarl echoed from below and you jumped ahead, into the corridor of your floor. A grin lit your face until a breeze blew by you, curls loosened from the bun upon your face. Clark grabbed your upperarms, flying with you to your door. Your back hit the wall and a laugh fell from your lips before he kissed you with an open mouth. 

Tongue slipping into your mouth, you groaned as he kissed you, your arms going around his slender waist. As his hands travelled up to your neck, large and warm, they cupped your chin and hand around your neck. You tasted the mint toothpaste and trembled under the sweet taste of his mouth. 

Clark pulled back, his lips slanting against your cheek, then jaw, and then upon your neck. Tasting your sweat and licking your skin like a limited edition tootsie roll. His teeth nipped, tongue licking the bruise before his lips suckled. Then repeated until it was the swell of your breasts in your deep v-neck. His hands travelled down, resting on your waist and squeezing. 

Through the musk of groping and kissing, you heard the clearing of a throat. You patted Clark and in an instant he stepped back and turned behind to see your older neighbour, Ms Isla. Blushing in shame your turned around and opened the door, Clark tumbling in behind you laughing. 

You slapped his chest. “That’s not funny, Clark! I’m the one that sees her when I’m leaving for work early, not you who clocks in at nine.”

Clark shrugged. “Sorry.”

“How didn’t we notice her? Gosh, thank God we’re both dressed.” You muttered, stripping off your sweaty gym clothes and putting them in the washing machine right away. “Give me your sweats.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You tried not to look at him as you accepted his folded clothing, tossing it with your own before setting it onto cycle. When it finally began to spin, you suddenly got very angry. 

“Wait a minute,” you narrowed your eyes at Clark’s naked backside taking a drink of water from your fridge. “You heard her coming up! You knew when…oh my god, Clark!”

“Consider it payback.” he joked. “I don’t like the jokes about that Damon guy.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and heading to the bathroom. “Jerk!”

“I’m sorry, baby.” he crooned following behind you into the shower. You tucked your hair into a cap and turned the water to warm sliding the glass door shut. Over the continuous pour you could hear Clark. 

“Could you blame?” he pointed out in earnest. “You kissed me and I couldn’t think.”

“All I could think about is you pressed up to me. Your breasts on my chest, those hard nipples dragging along while I sucked your tongue.”

“If you knew how good you tasted, how soft your lips were, you wouldn’t be so harsh. You’d understand that you could make anyone human. Weak. I can’t think about anything else but that.”

You dropped your body wash, bending to pick it up you heard a groan on the other side of the frosted glass. Clark’s shadowy figure was broad and bent, one hand in front of himself. You slid the glass back and gasped at the pleasing sight before you. Propped against the bathroom sink, Clarke eyed you with laser focus, hand around the base of his turgid member, stroking it up and down with a firm fist. 

His eyes lit up, watching as you stood giving him an unobscured view of your wet body. You caught your lower lip with your teeth, listening to his soft whimpers. Eyes flickering between his face and member, you leaned against the cold tile and ran your fingers along your chest, plucking at your nipples. Clark licked his lips, blue eyes dark in the white light of the bathroom. 

Hitching up a leg onto the rim of the shower height, you let one breast fall as you delved between your thighs, slowly massaging your centre – widening your leg to give him a view. You shivered as he sped up, breathing unsteady as he approached his first climax. 

Dipping a finger in, you hissed, adding a second as Clark’s face pinched in anticipation. You’re mouth hung as his cum erupted, planting onto the white floor. On autopilot, you stepped out of the shower and went straight to him, hoisted into his arms as he slowly kissed you, walking with you on his hip. He sat you on the bathroom counter; thumb between your legs as he stroked your swollen clit, applying pleasure until you were squirming. Clark guided his cock into you, groaning as he bottomed out. He dragged you closer to him, your ass barely on the counter as he held you in position with one hand and the other paying attention to your clit.

“Oh, baby – oh, fuck, Clark,” you muttered out, rocking your hips, hands on his massive biceps. Your fingers dug into his impenetrable skin, as you chased your high.

Clark stretched you out, deep and thoughtful as he made sure with every thrust you felt all of him. From the base of his cock to the mushroom head, he dragged himself out until just the pink tip could be seen exiting your essence-leaking pussy and plunged back in until his pubes pressed to you. 

“You’re taking me so good, baby.” he complimented, salivating as he looked down at where you two were connected. 

“Thank you, baby. Oh, yes, yes.”

“Good girl. Such a good girl.”

You nodded, crying as he worked you, words failing you.  

“Take my big cock, you love when I fuck you like this, huh? You wanna feel that burn when I take my time with you, make you drip on my cock like this.”

He kissed you, biting your lip and sucking down your groans. Clark hummed as you whimpered, sliding his tongue into your mouth. One of your hands went to his shoulder, nails into the delves of his back.

The kiss parted with a string of spit, you threw your head back and hollered as you came, his thumb still pressing on your clit until your legs shook. Clark pulled out of you, a loud plop echoing in the bathroom. He turned you over so that your belly was on the counter and you could see your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Your shower cap had fallen off and your curls curtained half of your face, leaving only one drunken squinted eye. Behind you, Clark was wide and grinning down at you with the feral qualities of a wild dog viewing a slab of steak. Your hands gripped the counters, yelping as Clark slapped both of your ass cheeks. 

“Fuck, Clark!” you hissed as he did it a second time, large hands groping the meaty cheeks. He bent his head down and kissed them, nibbling at them slightly before raising his head.

You felt his heavy member between them, sandwiched by your cheeks. He began to slowly drag his hips back and forth, stopping for a moment before you felt him drag it along your pussy. You jumped at the turgid feel against your clit, exciting building over sensitivity. 

“Ready to go again?” He asked, husky and filled with want.

You nodded furiously and Clark laughed. “Say it.”

“Yes. Please, get back inside me.”

He touted, dragging a little faster. “Don’t think anyone can work you out can they?”

“N-No.”

He released a cheek to smack it. “You stuttered.”

You were going fucking insane. “No! Fuck no, baby. You’re the only one.”

Unceremoniously, he entered you to the hilt and began to fuck your sopping core. Clark took one of your hands off the counter, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it.  With just one anchor on shaky legs, you gripped the other side and prayed you wouldn’t fall until you remembered that your boyfriend was Superman.

Thick, hard cock stormed in and out of your pussy. Your ass smacked against his hips as he fucked into you. “Who’s the only man you’ll let work you out?”

You barely muttered out a response. “You, baby. Fuck – Oh my God, Oh my God.”

“Say my name, baby. C’mon, whose cock is in you?”

You caught your visage in the mirror, teary as Clark glowered down at you with tantalizing sternness. “Clark! Clark, Clark, Clark!”

“You’re so smart,” he praised, leaning forward and kissing your back, then neck, teeth nibbling the skin as his hips kept their pace, your pussy was spread and filled, growing wetter and wetter at his touch. 

“My smart baby. Do you think you could ever prance in front of another man in workout clothes? Tiny shorts that can’t keep this fat ass in?” He smacked the aforementioned ass cheeks with one big palm, growling at your whimper.

You tried to tap him with the hand pinned to your back but Clark seemed blind to it. 

“Nobody baby.” You muttered, moving your ass to him, delirious with pleasure. You could feel your second orgasm coming and if Clark’s pace was any way to count, so was he.

Moving your hips to his own, the two of you followed the other, hungry and redolent, chasing a satisfying end. Clark released your arm, his hands finding purchase in the curve of your waist, then the sides of your swaying breasts.

His head dipped into the curve of your neck and shoulder. You realized you hadn’t stopped moaning or whimpering once. “I’m so sorry for being so loud.”

“What?” he groaned, tightening on the softness of your full breasts. “Baby, never say that.”

You seemed to have sparked fresh energy within him, even when your peak came – loud, yelling his name, he kept on, hands massaging every available inch of your body. Gratitude fell from his lips every time you whimpered until you felt him grow stiff and warmth filled you, leaking down your thigh.

Clark rocked into you a bit more, pulling out and holding you close. The steam had fogged up the mirror but he wiped it off. You leaned against him, watching the satiated look on both of your faces, beneath that, a more tender thing. Affection and comfort in a shared moment of two people in love. 

“C’mon,” he kissed your cheek. “Let’s shower and get some food.”

You hummed, too fucked out to even respond. 

LIKE, COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT 💗

Masterlist

[lewisvinga]

million dollar man | lance stroll x fem! reader

summary; in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings.

warnings; insecurities esp around money, reader is mentioned to be a healthcare worker/nurse

word count; 1.2k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; i can’t tell yall the amount of times i’ve thought of this fic ever since i started the born to die series 😭😭😭😭 but i rlly let out my obsession w these luxuries out here 🫣🫣

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“Why don’t you wear your new necklace? The one that your fiancé got you.”

Y/n could hear the smile in Lance’s voice as she stood in the bathroom adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “Yeah, because a Serpent around my neck would match the floral look.” She snorted, referring to the Bulgari necklace he had gotten her the week prior.

“I mean, you haven’t worn it yet. Where else would you showcase it for the first time other than your own engagement party?”

“Because it doesn’t match.”

What she said was partially the truth. The serpent necklace didn’t match her 3 thousand-dollar Oscar De La Renta dress.

It didn’t match with the gold Rolex on her left wrist or the diamond-encrusted Cartier love bangle, Juste un Clou, and the Van Cleef bracelet on her right wrist. Nor did it match the giant diamond engagement ring adorning her ring finger.

It didn’t match her white Louboutin heels nor did it go with the 20-motif Van Cleef Alhambra necklace.

It didn’t match her and that was her issue.

Y/n never even dreamt of the lifestyle she had been living ever since dating Lance. It was something so unattainable. The expensive bags, jewelry, cars, and private jets, she never even dared to dream of.

She grew up middle class, her parents having enough to be able to put food on the table, and have decent clothes, but not enough to earn them all the luxuries she has now. Sure, her nursing job earned her a decent amount of money, but the necklace her boyfriend had gotten her cost more than her yearly salary and that said enough.

She remembered the look on the faces of Lance’s extended family when they found out she did not come from another rich family and was just a regular pediatric nurse. They immediately assumed she was just with him for money. They talked and talked.

The gossip would become worse whenever Y/n would show up with a new bag or bracelet. She hated it.

She remembered when Lance decided to throw her a huge birthday party. He paid for most of it even if she protested. Not to mention, he gifted her not one but two Hermes mini Kelly’s. She remembered the looks on his aunt's face as she held a rare picnic mini Kelly.

“One for the money, two for the show, right?” He joked, chuckling at her shocked face, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I love you, honey.”

“You’re unbelievable, Lance. I love you.”

The same picnic Kelly bag he gifted her was the one she decided to wear with her floral dress. A springtime engagement called for a floral theme engagement party, hence the dress.

Y/n stares at herself in the mirror after applying her Dior lipgloss. She looked like a million-dollar man. She looked so strange like she was unrecognizable. She had the dream life of so many but had no idea why she felt so upset or heartbroken.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Lance had been calling her. “Honey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern in his voice as he walked into the bathroom all dressed in an expensive suit.

“I hope you’re not getting cold feet before our engagement part.” He joked but his smile immediately fell at her silence. “Are you?”

“No! No!” Y/n quickly exclaimed, turning around and settling her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not getting cold feet, Lance. I want to marry you and I will marry you. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” He mumbled, grasping her hands. His dark eyes were filled with concern as his thick brows furrowed up. She still seemed hesitant to tell him what was on her mind. “Hey, I won’t judge you for what’s on your mind.”

Y/n sighed again as Lance gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “You know I didn’t grow up with this. All of these luxuries, expensive jewelry, even more expensive cars and bags. My nursing job can only cover so much. It can’t cover a quarter of what you give me.”

“And I don’t care!” He exclaimed, “You’re my fiancée. I want to spoil you. It’s my duty to spoil you. I don’t care what they think, I-”

“But I’ve seen the way your aunts stare at me.” She mumbled, looking down at her Louboutins. “I’ve heard their whispers. They just think I’m a gold digger who is only marrying you to have this lifestyle but I couldn’t give two shits about all of this! We could be struggling with money and I’d still want to be with you.”

She sighed as she let go of his hands. She turned around to look at herself through the mirror. “I see a stranger when I’m dressed up like this. I stick out whenever I’m with your family and they all know it. They never try to hide their whispers and they’re right. I don’t fit into this world, Lance. I look like a million dollar man but why does my heart still feel broken?”

“Y’know what I see?” Lance asked as he took a step closer to her, placing his hand on her waist. “I see the most gorgeous woman. Someone so unique and special that she’s like an exotic flower.” He chuckled, running his finger over the strap of her floral dress.

“I see someone who is so brilliant she used her brain to study to help children in need. I see someone with a heart so big, that she works extra shifts just to spend time with her patients no matter how tiring the week has been.” He continued, gently fixing a strand of her hair which made her let out a soft chuckle. “I see my fiancée, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with despite not growing up in ‘my world’.”

Lance leaned over and kissed Y/n’s cheek. “I see the woman who has always been by my side. I see the woman who will be the mother of my children. I see the woman who has stolen my heart from the day I bumped into her in that cafe.”

He spun her around so she was facing him. She rested her hands on his shoulder once again for stability as his hands held onto her waist. “I don’t see someone strange. I see you.”

She takes a deep breath, her pink lips curled into a smile as her eyes fill with tears. “You always know how to take a girl's breath away, don’t you?”

“Just yours.”

Y/n leaned up and pulled him close to kiss him, not caring if they were going to be made to their own engagement party. “I love you so much, Lance.”

“I love you so much, Y/n. More than anything else in this world.”

She leaned back down with a wide smile on her lips. She takes a deep breath and quickly glances in the mirror to ensure her makeup is still intact.

“Well, we can’t be late to our own engagement party.” Y/n chuckled, grabbing her bag and turning back to Lance. “Shall we go, my million dollar man?”

He kisses the top of her head as a smile matching hers appears on his lips. “Let’s go, my honey.”

[wndaswife]

Love & Loathing: The First Christmas | Series Masterlist

The holidays feel lonely without your friends and family. Wanda faces her first Christmas after her divorce and miscarriage. The two of you build your first tradition.

Word count: 2635

Tags: some angst, light manipulation, foreshadowing of future toxic relationship as seen in main series, writing this after already writing the main series reminded me of emily im sorry by boygenius! sad!

Wanda’s cart came to an abrupt stop when a young child suddenly ran away from his mother to the other side of the aisle, passing in front of her without warning. Her orange juice lurched forward then fell onto her carrots. 

The child’s mother quickly came over, scolding her son for running in front of a moving cart as he begged her to buy rainbow chip cookies for Santa, oblivious to the fact that Wanda and her full cart were still standing idly behind him, unable to skirt around.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized after giving in to the rainbow chip cookies once her son apologized to Wanda too. He went to place the package in their cart. “Holiday shopping makes them a little wild too, I suppose.” She laughed like she was telling her an inside joke.

Them, like a proper noun.

“Children, yes,” Wanda conceded with a small nod and a smile. “I understand. But rainbow chip is a great pick. Very considerate of Santa’s tastes.” She looked over at the young boy who waited for his mother patiently, then seemed bashful when he made eye contact with Wanda. 

Wanda then noticed the woman’s eyes flicker down to her left hand, barren of a wedding ring, and then to her cart, empty of what a mother would shop for her children for. Wanda dropped her left arm to her side, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

After finishing up her grocery list, she strolled back down the cookie section and picked up a package of the rainbow chip cookies. As she walked to the checkout line, she ran her eyes across her cart — orange juice, the Pillsbury cookies you liked, eggs, milk, bagels, your favourite ice cream flavour, some things for the washroom, baking ingredients for a recipe you’d been wanting to try, some snacks, fruits and vegetables, and the rainbow chip cookies.

She put her left glove on first, then her right, then started to place her things on the conveyor. 

“My kids have been in a baking craze since they got off school,” the cashier told her as she bagged her flour, then her vanilla extract. “It must be the season.”

Wanda looked up from her wallet then smiled. 

“Mine too,” she said.

When she arrived at home, you were sitting at the dining table on your laptop. It was nearing the end of the semester, so you still had a few more final assignments to finish. You stood and helped Wanda unload the groceries.

“Hi, baby,” she greeted once all the bags were on the counter. She reached and placed her palm against your furthest cheek, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple.

“Hi,” you answered with a smile, putting some things away into the fridge. “Did you get the Pillsbury cookies? You saw the holiday ones, right?” 

Wanda handed you the milk. “I did. There were only the snowmen.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted something that was Christmas themed.”

The rainbow chip cookies came out last. Wanda had never tried them, and it wasn’t on the shopping list, and you hadn’t asked for it before. She handed them to you as you stored some things away into the cupboards.

“Do you like these? They were on sale,” she suddenly lied.

You took them from her, eyes running over the package. Then you set it on the counter with a contemplating hum as you peeled it open and looked inside. “Oh, I do like these. I last had them when I was really young.”

After dinner, you resumed working on your laptop, cuddled up beside Wanda on the couch as she flipped through Netflix for something to watch. She had a glass of white wine in hand and an arm around your shoulders, fastening the shared blanket around your body.

You’d been trying to apply for some jobs lately; after declaring a temporary leave from college starting next semester, you wanted to start working a little to make some income and keep yourself busy. You were hoping for something part-time and very casual.

The gold Christmas lights Wanda had hung up around the fireplace and curtains glowed warm, enveloping the living room in something gentle and festive. There wasn’t any other light on aside from the stovetop in the kitchen, so the laptop screen felt particularly intrusive.

“What are you working on?” she asked, putting her phone down and looking down at you from the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

“A final essay. It’s pretty overdue.”

Wanda eyed the tabs you were switching between. “Overdue? Online courses not working well?”

“I thought it might be better for me but…” you trailed off, your fingers pausing atop the keyboard. Your index finger tapped ever so slightly against the E key, just enough to make the plastic sound against the board.

“Is something on your mind…?” Wanda asked, setting the remote down. She craned her neck down and brushed her nose against your cheek.

Your fingernail traced the top edge of the D key. “It just feels like I’m always behind. I keep trying to change things around so maybe I might find something I can finally get accustomed to — online courses, a lesser course load.”

Then, quietly, you added, “My friends don’t even ask to study with me anymore. I know I declared a leave, but...” 

The Christmas lights reflected against Wanda’s glass, and against the pale golden hue of her wine, it looked like she was drinking champagne, slightly flat. 

She set the glass on the coffee table then carefully closed your laptop, allowing you to remove your hands from the keyboard. She placed it down, closed, beside her wine. Instinctively, you curled up and leaned your head against her chest, and Wanda wrapped both arms around you, one hand coming to cradle the side of your head.

Before she could say anything, you said, “They invited me out to the Christmas market downtown a few days ago.”

Something tightened in Wanda’s stomach and she looked down at you, but your face was covered by your hair and some of the blanket which was wrapped around her arms. 

“Really? You didn’t tell me,” she said. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say at first.”

“Say to whom? To them or me?”

“I don’t know…” you muttered quietly. “Both.”

Wanda’s hand tightened around your shoulder. You buried your cheek against her chest, feeling like she was holding you tighter against her. Instead, Wanda felt tense; the idea that you could feel about her in any similar way that you did for your friends made her feel like she was just as disposable and temporary.

“Did you go…?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding strained as she feared the answer might be that, yes, you did make plans and see other people in your life without telling her.

If your feelings of uncertainty were the same between her and your friends, and you ended up seeing them and not telling her, wasn’t that the same as you picking them over her? Leaving her behind like some afterthought, only to come up later when you felt a little insecure about something?

You shook your head, and Wanda took a breath through her nose, tension in her lungs dissipating. Then you lifted yourself from her chest and reached for your phone. Wanda pulled you back against her when you leaned back, but now your head was on her shoulder instead of her chest so you could both look at your phone screen together.

You showed her a picture on Instagram of your friends together at the market. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Wanda said, brushing her nose against your temple then kissing your cheek. “But you wouldn’t have really enjoyed yourself if you were with them, would you?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled, eyes still on the screen, obviously not really caring what she was saying, and still feeling rather down about it.

Wanda bit the side of her tongue a little at your passive insistence that you still cared about the fact that they hung out without you. “Baby, you always say that you don’t really feel like you fit in when you’re with them. Don’t you say that…?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did we do that day, anyway? We went shopping for decorations, right? And got dinner? Wasn’t that much more fun?”

You nodded and looked up. 

Wanda felt her breath hitch and snag in her throat when you met her eyes. She swallowed, wondering what you might be thinking when you looked at her like that. 

“I… I’m really happy we’re spending the holidays together,” you said quietly. Your phone dimmed then locked, the image of your friends forgotten. 

Her lungs filled with air and her expanding rib cage pushed gently against your upper arm.

“Me too, Y/N.”

A warm hand cupped your cheek, smooth fingers brushing against your soft skin. She looked over your face in great detail. 

When the thought came over her, wondering what similarities you held in comparison to your mother and father, Wanda looked away. She reached over to get her wine glass then settled back against your side.

You leaned your head on her shoulder and Wanda rested her chin on top of it. 

“Any movie you’d like to watch?” she asked, combing her fingers through your hair. 

You reached for the remote and turned on the TV. 

Early the next morning, you sleepily padded downstairs to see Wanda setting up the Christmas tree in the living room. She was still in her pajamas, but she had a sweater on and her hair was clipped back. 

When you stepped off from the stairs, Wanda turned around to greet you with a smile. She outreached an arm for you to come over and give her a hug. 

Wanda thought you were rather light on your feet; you would sometimes sneak up on her when you’d enter a room. It was a stark contrast to Vision, who was quite tall, and seemed to always walk with the frustrating burden that he’d woken into another day, living the same life as he did the day prior.

It was the recollection of painful memories like that, ones where you’d no doubt see her as a spineless, empty woman, that made Wanda all the more confident in her decision to keep truths about Vision from you. She wanted to be someone different, and better.

You walked over and wrapped your arms around her waist, tucking your head under her chin before she kissed your forehead. 

“You started putting up the tree without me?” you asked, lifting your head and looking up at her.

“Oh,” Wanda replied, turning her head to look at the tree. She had only just started with the ornaments, and the cardboard box she stored the tree in was still on the floor.

She looked back down at you.

“You want to help?”

You nodded and pulled away from her before digging through the box of ornaments to begin decorating. “You shouldn’t ever decorate a Christmas tree alone unless you’re actually by yourself.”

Wanda smiled at your boldness as she watched you from behind. She pinched your side playfully, causing you to flinch away. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into her, pressing a kiss to your neck and causing you to giggle.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you replied. Then you shooed her away so you could continue with what you were doing. 

Wanda hadn’t ever decorated with anyone else; Vision wasn’t very festive, and when she was younger, her family often travelled for work, leaving her and Pietro to celebrate alone with the company of their neighbour who watched over them.

Their neighbour was a strict elderly man who didn’t speak much English and slept most of the time, whose dialect was that which only their parents understood, and was never taught to Wanda nor Pietro. Her memories of Christmas as a jointly-celebrated holiday was reminiscent of bitter black tea, imported from her neighbour’s hometown overseas, and television on its lowest volume in the late evening, playing old holiday sitcoms.

“My parents and I got in a fight a few days ago,” you said suddenly, still hanging up ornaments.

Wanda looked at you as she adjusted the position of some of them she’d put up earlier. She thought for a moment before responding, “Is everything okay?”

“It’s okay,” you answered.

You’d been having a hard time with your parents the past few months. They were upset you’d taken a temporary leave from your schooling without consulting with them first, they were upset you’d been spending so much time with someone they’d never met, and they were upset that you hadn’t been speaking with them.

You still had a large sum of money left from when you worked more often than you attended classes, and so you were rather glad not to rely on them for any financial support, not that you often spent money while being at home with Wanda.

The change, according to them — and according to you, too — had seemingly come out of the blue. But, still, you could pinpoint when it started.

After meeting Wanda, all you wanted to do was run away from things. You wanted to run from your parents, who’d always babied you and never gave you your own choice in anything, and from school, and from your friends, and from the world.

To word it more accurately, you’ve always wanted to run away from things. 

And Wanda let you. 

She took you away and kept you safe.

You hung an ornament on the tree, and instead of leaning down to take another out of the box, your arms stilled at your sides and you looked down at the floor. 

After a moment of silence while Wanda was busy reaching up to hang an ornament close to the top, you asked quietly, “Is it okay if I spend Christmas with you…?”

Looking up from the floor, you met Wanda’s eyes.

Wanda felt her breath hitch at the sight of you looking at her that way — expectantly, patiently, like what she said mattered to you a great deal. She leaned down and placed the ornament back in the box. She stepped towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “Of course, baby,” she answered quietly, speaking against the side of your head. “Let’s stay home for the holidays — just the two of us.”

By next week, your gifts for Wanda were wrapped and stored under the tree. You mixed them in along with the ones she’d gotten for you, so you could see them altogether.

Wanda was still at work, staying a bit later tonight, so you went out to walk through the Christmas market downtown on your own. You saw a beautiful jade hair clip that you thought would look perfect on her; you imagined the shade of green tucked within the brown of her hair, bringing out the green in her eyes, and her delicate fingers wrapping around the handle to clip it in.

Wrapped in a small box, you crouched down and placed it on top of a gift Wanda wrapped for you.

When she came back from work, Wanda found you dozing on the couch in the living room with a blanket draped around you. You were bathed in the gentle light of the Christmas tree that you’d put up together.

She quietly put her things down before approaching your delicate sleeping figure. She crouched down and carefully brushed your hair out of your face, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m home, my angel,” she whispered softly, a smile growing on her face as she watched you awaken slowly.

[toji-bunny-girl]

𝙎𝙖-𝙏����-𝙍𝙪

CHARACTER— yandere!gojo x fem!reader CONTENTS— yandere themes, stalking, hidden camera bear thingy, slight angst? IDKK gojo is just gross asf, noncon, intoxicated!reader, worshipping kink, DELUSIONALL‼️‼️‼️, slight fingering idk, sex yuh A/N— enjoy this masterpiece I wrote months ago (I no longer have the ability to write as good as I did) kinda weird but I literally had this dream a few days ago of a guy kidnapping me and bruising my ass with his initials 💀💀 scary asf and I remembered it hurts like a bitch anyway I have an exam later on so wish me luck 🤩 (repost)

The lustre of his eyes glimmered against the reflection of the screen, his face turning rubicund was evidence of the blood rushing underneath his cheeks. Sweat flecked across his palms, marginally soiling his pants when he rubbed his hands on them.

Your eyes stared straight into his, and he thought your orbs must be of millions of blended colours for them to glint in iridescent. The sliver of rays from the screen pierced his irises, and he swore the sight of you must be cleansing his soul.

He sucked his lips as you played with the toy bunny’s hands, and a smile reached your face before you pressed the soft toy into your chest, clutching it in your arms as you sighed something. Something that started with Sa and ended with Ru. His mind must be playing tricks on him, right? It couldn’t be that—

Then there it comes again, the cadence of your voice, the shape of your lips, and his name that you whispered. Sa-To-Ru.

The Sa whose eyes would only trail behind your wake, the To that breathed just for the air that you exhaled, and the Ru that didn’t believe God lives in heaven, because there was you, his Goddess that walked the Earth amongst the sinful humanity.

Satoru. He thought he had never loved his name even more than that moment.

But he found himself wrong—oh so wrong.

You sounded even more euphonious sprawled out before him, intoxicated with alcohol on your tongue and in your veins—not a clue about where you are and what’s going on. All you could gather was the familiar mop of silver in your foggy sight, and how the world seemed to be on vertigo.

The bits and pieces of recollections you could grasp onto in your besotted state were the hours spent drinking bottles of liquor, giggling at the charming jokes and teases from Gojo. Then the clashes of teeth and his hands on your chest, the long ride up an elevator, and stumbling onto a bed that smelled like him.

“My name…” he panted when his head rose from your jugular—marked and claimed through teeth and tongue. “Say my name,” he repeated, pressing his lips against your jaw as he took in a drag of your ambrosial scent, long fingers pumping in and out of your squeezing cunt.

You frowned, moaning into the torrid air that bubbled around the two of you and arching your back when an orgasm tumbled through, warmth pervading through your core when pleasure glitched over your body like static.

His name doesn’t read past your lips, but your groan of pleasure was enough for him to render him halcyon. Lining his painfully pulsing head to your slick entrance, the dilatory push of his fat tip into your folds made a cry ripple through both of your throats. In you he found warmth that tasted like divinity; the forbidden fruit between the thighs of his Goddess.

He didn’t dare move, afraid that your grip would tempt an orgasm in him to soil your quim with his load. His thumb drew circles upon your clit, trying to mitigate the tight clench of your cunt in the wake of your previous orgasm.

Your muscles finally relaxed in a few rubs, and he let his length ease into you, your hole still pulsing and spasming as his cock filled your insides. Gojo’s chest fluttered with rapture as he groaned for your name, almost as if he was trying to have you look at him, fully sober instead of laying crumpled on his bed.

But you don’t, your eyes remained still shut, and only the little whimpers and cries that fell off the edges of your lips denoted your senses still awake yet torpor from the inebriation.

“Please, look at me?”

You groaned when he benignly lifted your jaw, his sense of deify for you felt through his cold fingertips before his lips meld into yours. Your mouth lax open, letting his tongue taste the heaven off of yours and swallow your saliva of ambrosia down his throat.

When he withdrew from your face with a dense cloud over your heads, he found the hues of your orbs peering into his summer’s blue sky, your eyelashes fanning the heat over his cheeks. His heart jumped and paced, and he was sure you could hear his heartbeat. Could you?

“Satoru…?” you whispered. The tang of liquor blazing strongly in your system, but you still managed to recognise him. “Wha–Where are we? And wha—”

You were cut off from your words when his lips crashed into yours, and his hips began pistoning in and out of you, your moans jumbled between your dancing mouths before sizzling in the hot air. Your walls tightened around his girth as he pumped deep into you, his cock throbbing and threatening ejaculation, but he would rather abnegate himself from pleasure if you hadn’t succumbed to it.

Every stroke of his swollen head against the bump of your g-spot made you gasp and cry with the stimulation, palms desperately attempting to push the weight of the male off, but it simply came to piteous futility.

At his last stroke, your squirting cunt squeezed his cock tight and wet his pelvis, and his load began filling your inside to the brim, thick spurts of cum shooting at your cervix as you screamed his name.

The Sa who you could taste on your tongue, the To who swore you’re the lone fire to his loins, and the Ru who promised to never let your divinity step a single foot out of his door—your temple, to walk the earth soiled by sinning humans.

Satoru—the priest to your Holiness.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Don't Mess With The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Snippet

Twilight Masterlist Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 1.4k

Premise: Just some good ole fluff of a married vampire couple of a few dumbass teen immortals.

Note: So many people loved 'The Doctor's Wife' and asked if I could continue it! not sure if I'll make it long imagines but I definitely plan on making small snippets like this that is good ole fluff of the golden couple of the Cullens dealing with their chaotic teenage immortal children. Enjoy and thank you so much for the positive reception on my work!

--------------

“Honey….,” Carlisle leaned against the door of their bedroom, treading carefully on water he knew better than to cross. But their whole family dynamic was at stake and as the patriarch--and coven leader--he needed to fix it. 

Without any bloodshed.

Her glare, however, spoke against his hopes for peace. “Don’t honey me, Carlisle Cullen.” Clothes flung everywhere, the room in utter disarray contrary to its usually unkempt nature. “He is being ridiculous and you know it.” Tossing a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps into the suitcase she gave him another look, “And yes, I know he can hear me.” Carlisle had opened his mouth, but closed it, his wife not having to the mind reader in the family to know what he was about to say. 

“You have every right to be upset. I’m not happy about the situation either, but we have to do what’s best for our family.”

Carlisle came over to where she was, beginning to pack his clothes into his own suitcase. Brushing away the stray hairs that fell from her hair scarf, Y/n’s eyes turned serious, “What happened was unfortunate--and it is a shame Bella got hurt. He’s been beating himself over it the entire weekend and I understand that, Carlisle. But what I don’t appreciate is him uprooting us and using you as the excuse.”

Following Bella’s birthday party gone wrong, Edward didn’t waste a second in making the executive decision to the family that they had to leave Forks. Saying they were a danger to Bella and to ensure her safety and no more harm comes to her as a result of his doing, they needed to remove themselves from the picture. And Edward’s genius move was to tell Bella it was because the staff at the hospital were starting to notice Carlisle’s lack of aging. 

“His concern is valid. We’ve been here four years now. It was bound to happen.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve heard people talk at the hospital?” She challenged.

“I don’t need to hear them say it aloud, Y/n,” he tells her with a knowing look. “Their stares are enough confirmation. I had one nurse ask me last week if I had a skincare routine.” His attempt at a joke doesn't work. She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, but he tries again. “Soon they’ll be asking what botox doctor I go to.”

Y/n knew Carlisle had a point. It always happened wherever they moved. They settled down, spent maybe five or six years until all the kids graduated from high school for the hundredth time, then did it all over again. If it wasn’t nosy hospital workers, it was teachers. If it wasn’t the bakery owner she frequented asking how she managed to look 27 after seven years, then it was the engineer she was collaborating with on a project. 

“It’s not fair,” she goes on, carefully folding her dress shirts, skirts, and pants. Not looking forward to having to pack up her art studio. All the supplies, artwork, and projects she was working on. “And I feel so awful for her,” her frown made his own appear, “You see the way she looks at him. It’s utter devotion, as though he was a sentient being sent from the heavens. And Edward,” her voice drops to a whisper, “he worships the ground she walks on. And this decision not only punishes her, it punishes him.”

The pair fall into a silence when the front door opens and slams shut. Edward’s lingering scent disapparating, causing Y/n to groan and place her head in her hands. The anger and not caring if her adoptive son heard her rant suddenly vanished. Replaced with shame. 

Carlisle sighs, setting down the pile of towels he folded to walk over to her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he brings Y/n into a comforting embrace, letting his hands fall to her waist, allowing her to sink into his arms with a content hum. 

“Listen to me,” she closes her eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze where she’ll find judgement. “I sound ridiculous--and I’m being unfair to him and his feelings on the matter.”

“You care for him dearly,” Carlisle strokes her hair, “he understands that. And I think deep down he knows you’re right, but won’t admit to it because he believes he’s doing the right thing for Bella.” Carlisle leans back to look into her eyes, “Remember, he was turned at a young age--and has never experienced this type of love before. He’s learning all this for the first time.”

“I know,” she mumbles, deflated but understanding. They stayed in their embrace for a few minutes before separating to continue packing up. Edward returned later that night with brighter eyes, indicating he had fed to which resolved some of the tension between the two when they finally sat down to have the conversion they’d been dreading. Him apologizing for uprooting the family suddenly, and for the harm he was to cause Bella. And Y/n apologizing for the words she spoke before he left. They hugged it out, neither able to stay mad at the other, and Edward helped her pack the art room throughout the remainder of the night. 

The time away from Forks was odd but somewhat comforting. Carlisle and Y/n decided to spend their time on the island they owned just off the coast of Brazil. Rosalie and Emmett traveled to New York, Alice and Jasper in Mississippi and Edward in Rio de Janeiro. They spoke on the phone frequently, sent letters and postcards, or emailed. Edward would spend a night or two on the island to hunt, Y/n painted canvas after canvas, and Carlisle worked on a medical textbook he was in the process of writing.

“You hear that?” She asked one night when they were cuddling on the couch. A random movie playing on the TV.

“What?”

“It’s quiet,” she whispered, a grin spreading on her lips. “No kids. No animals. No workers. Absolute silence.” Carlisle mirrored her smile. 

“You’re right. We haven’t had complete silence in ages.”

“More like eighty years--give or take,” she snorted. 

When the shit hit the fan in Italy, Y/n nearly killed Edward herself. Not just for the danger he put himself in but for the whole family. Alice and Rosalie also met her wrath--Rosalie for not explaining clearly to Edward the vision, and Alice for dragging Bella to Italy. 

Yeah, none of them wanted the smoke. 

The sight of the three siblings sitting on the couch with their heads down and twiddling their thumbs while Y/n paced in front of them while shouting a motherly tangent had Emmett straining to hold back his laughter. Carlisle didn’t dare intervene. 

Back in Forks the family settled back into their routines. Carlisle in the hospital and Y/n working on projects. The kids in school and planning for the summer. 

Then shit hit the fan again.

This time in the form of a newborn vampire army created by the red-headed lover of the tracker they disposed of the year prior. Victoria. And she was out for revenge against Edward and Bella. 

Y/n was not the fighting type, but that didn’t mean she did not know how to throw down. She could get her hands dirty if she desired. Emmett and Jasper taught her the ropes, Edward taught her how to anticipate opponents moves. 

“C’mon old man!” she dodged Carlisle’s attack, giggling as she pivoted to kick lightly at his chest. “Don’t be getting sleepy on me now. That’s not like you.” Carlisle smirked, catching her off guard by grabbing her waist and flipping her onto the ground.

“I’d watch who you call old, sweetheart,” he mocked right as Jasper yelled, “Never turn your back on your enemy!” 

Let’s just say…they did more than spar that night once the sun went down. 

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part I

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Warnings— Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Substance Use, Mature Themes.

A/N— Comment to be a part of the tag list, hope you enjoy this series <3

Series Masterlist

The glossy conference room table reflected the headline of the magazine tossed unceremoniously in front of you.

“America’s New Wild Child: From Runways to Rock Bottom”

Below it was a photo of you stumbling into a hotel lobby, visibly intoxicated, mascara smeared, and your once-iconic dress askew. It wasn’t just one headline, it was everywhere. Every blog, tabloid, and gossip page seemed to have some variation of your downfall plastered across their pages.

Your manager, Angela, sighed heavily from across the table, rubbing her temples. “You see this, right? The Shade Room picked it up. TMZ is all over it. Even Vogue is doing a piece on whether or not you’re the next Kate Moss, but not in a good way.” She leaned forward, her voice sharp. “You’re toxic right now. Nobody wants to touch you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “This isn’t true. My ex-best friend—she’s jealous. She made this all up.”

Angela gave you a pointed look and slid her iPad across the table. On it was a video—paparazzi footage of you from a few nights ago. You were stumbling out of a car, practically being carried by someone, slurring your words as you waved off photographers.

You groaned and pressed your fingers to your temples. “Y’all please, that was one time.”

“It’s never just one time with you!” snapped Melanie, one of the executives at your agency. “This is becoming a pattern. And we’re not here to babysit you.” She stood, exasperated. “You’re one of the highest-paid models in the world, and now look at you. You’re a liability.”

Angela raised a hand to calm the room. “Give me a few days,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ll clean this up. We’ll fix her image. She’ll be the ‘it girl’ again. I just need time.”

Melanie crossed her arms but didn’t argue. “Fix it fast. Otherwise, we’re done.”

As the meeting wrapped up, you sat silently, staring at the incriminating headlines. After years of grueling work, endless runway shows, and clawing your way to the top, it was all unraveling because of your past addictions and your inability to leave it behind.

Angela pulled you aside as the others left. “You need to clean this up. No more excuses. No more scandals. And definitely no more drunken or high paparazzi shots. Got it?”

You nodded numbly. “Got it.”

“Good. Now, start small. Let’s use that mansion of yours. Throw a party. Invite everyone who matters. Show them the glamorous, sophisticated version of yourself. Make them forget the messy headlines.”

Your lips curved into a small, defiant smile. “A party? That, I can do.”

2 Days Later

The house practically glittered under the LA moonlight, perched in the most exclusive part of the city. Your glam team buzzed around you, perfecting every inch of your hair and makeup as you sipped champagne. Outside the window, you noticed the usually dark house next door was now bustling with activity.

“Looks like someone’s moving in,” you said absently, gesturing with your glass. From the corner of your eye, you saw a guy carrying a box inside. He looked young, around your age maybe two years older, and vaguely attractive, though you didn’t pay much attention.

“Maybe he’ll be better than the last neighbors,” you joked to your stylist, smirking. “If he’s cute, I might even invite him to the party.”

As the night fell, the party roared to life. The mansion was packed with models, actors, and influencers. Music pounded through the walls, and laughter echoed in every corner. You danced like you had something to prove, the champagne flowing freely. At one point, you made out with a fellow model on the balcony to the cheers of a crowd. You were chaos incarnate, and you loved every second of it.

Around midnight, you were helping a tipsy friend into a waiting limo when you noticed someone approaching from the house next door.

“Excuse me.”

You turned, your vision slightly blurred, and found yourself face-to-face with the new neighbor. He was dressed casually—jeans and a hoodie—but his sharp jawline and piercing eyes caught your attention.

“I’m Nicholas,” he said, offering a tight smile. “Nicholas Chavez. I just moved in.”

You arched a brow, leaning lazily against the limo. “And?”

“And I have an audition tomorrow,” he continued, his tone calm but firm. “Your music is loud, and I can’t sleep.”

You laughed, the champagne fizzing in your head. “Well, didn’t you know who you were moving in next to?”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I found out too late,” he said dryly, a pointed reference to the headlines.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Funny. I’ve never seen a single headline about you.”

This time, he chuckled softly, though it was more condescending than amused. “Well, I’ll try to keep it that way.” His gaze flicked down briefly before meeting your eyes again.

You noticed, scoffing. “Nice try, but staring at my chest isn’t going to make me turn the music down.”

“Noted,” he replied smoothly, his tone unreadable. “But seriously, could you tone it down? Just a little?”

You waved him off, turning back toward the house. “Good luck with your audition.”

The door slammed behind you as the party continued to rage on. Whatever Nicholas Chavez wanted, it could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you were untouchable—or so you thought.

You weren’t worried Nicholas would turn out like your last neighbors, the ones who had gleefully run to the press with tales of your ‘wild, disruptive parties’ adding fuel to your already blazing reputation as a noisy party girl.

The party raged on, and you weren’t exactly innocent in keeping it under control. The music blasted as guests danced, smoked, and drank with abandon. Lines of coke were casually set out on mirrored trays, and you caught more than one person lighting up joints in the corners. Even you, despite promising yourself you were done with that lifestyle, gave in after a few glasses of champagne, doing a line or two when a friend coaxed you into it.

By the time the sun started to rise, people were passed out on your marble floors, the air heavy with the stench of spilled liquor and smoke. You stumbled to bed without bothering to clean up, the haze of the night swirling in your head.

You woke to the sound of chaos downstairs—your housekeepers already hard at work, scrubbing every inch of the aftermath. Your head pounded as sunlight streamed in through your curtains. Groaning, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and blinked at the time. It was already midday.

Dozens of missed calls and messages from Angela stared back at you. She’d been blowing up your phone about a last-minute shoot, one you had completely missed. You cursed under your breath, knowing she’d be furious.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom for a long, scalding shower. As the water poured over you, you couldn’t help but rethink the night before. You’d promised to get it together, to clean up your image, but it was getting harder to hold yourself accountable.

After drying off, you wrapped yourself in a silk robe and walked to your window. Across the lawn, you noticed Nicholas pulling into his driveway. He stepped out of his car looking exhausted, a coffee in hand, wearing a nice suit. You figured he must have just returned from his audition. It must’ve been early. For a brief moment, guilt pricked at you. If he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, it was probably your fault.

Angela didn’t wait for you to sit down when you arrived at her office. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped, slamming her laptop shut as you walked in.

“I’m sorry, A,” you began, your voice hoarse from the night before.

“Sorry?” she cut you off, standing up and pacing the room. “Do you know what I’ve been dealing with all morning?” She grabbed a folder from her desk and threw it onto the coffee table in front of you. A stack of printouts slid out, screenshots of articles and photos from the party.

The headlines were brutal: “A Drug-Fueled Disaster: Is Y/N Destroying the Modeling Industry?”

Photos showed passed-out models, trays of coke, and worst of all, a video of you taking a line.

You froze, your stomach twisting into knots.

Angela slammed her hands on the desk. “This was supposed to be elegant, extravagant, a chance to clean up your image. Instead, you turned it into some rockstar-adjacent drug den!”

“I didn’t know people were recording,” you said weakly, avoiding her glare.

“That’s not the point!” she barked. “You were supposed to set an example. Little black girls look up to you. This is the image you’re giving them?”

You exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Angela, with all due respect, I’m not their mother. I didn’t ask to be anyone’s role model.”

She rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable. “Well, congratulations, because you’re not much of one anyway. This is your last chance. Do you hear me? Last chance.”

You nodded quickly, desperate to make it right. “I’ll fix it. I swear.”

“I already have something cooking up,” she said sharply, leaning against her desk. “But in the meantime, go downtown, look beautiful, and give them something positive to talk about. No booze, no drugs, no nonsense. Just smile, shop, and sign autographs. Sober.”

You groaned inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out in public, especially hungover, but you didn’t dare push back. “Got it.”

Your driver dropped you off at one of the most exclusive shopping districts in the city. Bodyguards lingered in the background as you strolled from boutique to boutique, taking your time and letting the paparazzi get their shots.

Every time someone asked for an autograph, you smiled warmly and obliged, posing with fans here and there. This was your coping mechanism—shopping your problems away, hoping the public would eat it up.

“Looking good, Y/N!” one of the paparazzi shouted as you exited a store with bags in hand.

You forced another smile, playing your part, and waved at the cameras before ducking into the backseat of your car.

When you arrived home, the guilt from last night gnawed at you. You couldn’t undo the noise and chaos, but maybe you could soften the blow. After all, Nicholas didn’t deserve to suffer because of your mess. Deciding to make amends, you ordered a small cake from a local bakery with “Welcome” scrawled neatly in frosting.

Holding the cake, you made your way next door and rang his doorbell. At first, there was no response, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was ignoring you. Maybe he had seen the articles and already formed an opinion. The thought annoyed you, but just as you were about to turn away, the door opened.

Nicholas stood there in joggers and a fitted t-shirt, his face a mix of surprise and curiosity. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyes dropped to the cake in your hands.

“Hi, neighbor,” you said with a small, sheepish smile.

He raised an eyebrow, reading the icing. “Welcome?”

“It’s for you,” you explained. “To welcome you to the neighborhood. And, uh, sorry about last night.”

His surprise lingered as he stepped aside to let you in. “Didn’t strike you as the generous, ‘welcome-with-cake’ kind of girl,” he said as you followed him into his sleek, modern kitchen.

The place was immaculate—white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and tasteful art on the walls. He set a glass down on the counter and gestured toward a barstool for you to sit.

“Well,” he added with a smirk, “especially not after a night like that. I’m surprised you’re even standing.”

You groaned, slumping into the chair. “Please don’t tell me you’ve seen the articles.”

He grabbed a knife to cut the cake. “The articles, the pictures, the videos, yeah, I’ve seen them.”

You groaned again, covering your face with your hands. “Great. Just what I needed. My new neighbor thinking I’m a train wreck.”

“Not thinking anything,” he said casually, slicing into the cake. His tone was calm, nonchalant. You couldn’t read him, and it annoyed you. Was he judging you? Laughing at you? You couldn’t tell.

You cleared your throat. “Anyway, welcome to the neighborhood. And again, sorry for the noise.”

He placed two plates on the counter, handing one to you. “Thanks. Want to eat this with me? That’s if you’re one of those rare models who actually eat carbs and don’t starve themselves.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t joke about that. And yes, I’ll have a slice. Or two.”

He chuckled softly, taking a seat across from you. As you ate, you studied him a little closer. His face was sharp, striking, he was definitely good-looking, though in a boy-next-door-meets-Hollywood kind of way. Then it hit you where you’d seen him before.

“You’ve been everywhere lately,” you said, setting your fork down. “You were in that Lyle and Erik Menendez show, right?”

He looked up, surprised. “You watched it?”

“I caught the first episode,” you admitted. “It was really good. Intense, but good.”

“Thanks,” he said, his expression softening. “It was a tough project, but worth it.”

You leaned back in your seat. “Hollywood’s a mess. Be careful.”

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

The conversation felt easy, almost too easy. Sitting across from him, you couldn’t help but notice how his t-shirt hugged his chest and arms, or the way his jaw tensed when he chewed. You realized, with a twinge of irritation, that you were definitely attracted to him. The idea of tearing his clothes off flashed through your mind, but you quickly shoved it aside.

You had too much going on to add that kind of complication to your life. Besides, sex was supposed to be the last thing on your mind right now.

Standing abruptly, you pushed your chair back. “I should go. Thanks for letting me crash your place. Enjoy the cake.”

He walked you to the door. “If I need anything, should I come knocking?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t plan on babysitting you, but sure, I guess.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Noted, neighbor.”

The moment you stepped through the door, your phone buzzed. Angela’s name flashed across the screen.

“Good,” she said briskly when you answered. “You’re home. I’ll be at your place first thing in the morning.”

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

“There’s a plan,” she said, her tone leaving no room for questions. “I’ll explain everything then, and we’ll put it in motion. Be ready.”

She hung up before you could respond. You stared at the phone, curiosity swirling in your chest. Whatever she was planning, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. If this was your chance to claw your way back into the spotlight, you’d take it.

For now, you poured yourself a glass of water, settling into the couch as you tried to shake off the day. Tomorrow was a new start—or so you hoped.

[innerfare]

Luffy Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Luffy angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous, Wearing His Hat).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Makes a light joke, inspects the wound himself even if there’s a doctor present, will help bandage you up if you need it. Pretends to be nonchalant about the entire thing, is panicking inside. Fully realizes the depths of his affection for you, is terrified to realize it’s love.  

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Turns it into a competition. “First one done wins!” “Luffy, no!” Also gets toothpaste absolutely everywhere. If he was in the habit of wearing shirts, all of his would have toothpaste (and food) stains on them. 

Flowers: 

Not one to buy you flowers. Instead, he picks them. Sometimes they’re weeds he thought looked pretty, other times, he presents you with a lush bundle of pink carnations you think he must have picked from a commercial flower field (this man has no concept of private property). He’s always very proud to present them because he worked hard to secure them; you'd better give him a kiss for his effort. Has, on occasion, accidentally brought you some that are poisonous. Also once brought you a bundle of radishes because he thought you would like the color. Receiving flowers from Luffy can be a bit like receiving a lizard from your pet cat. 

Type of Date: 

Everyone thinks he’d want to take you to dinner, probably to an all you can eat buffet, but this boy would actually drag you to an amusement/theme park. You’ll go on all the rides, riding the scariest ones multiple times over, and by the end of the day, you’ll have a stack of photos taken just before the roller coaster dropped. He’ll probably want to grab a bite to eat afterward, as if he didn’t already sample everything the amusement park had to offer; definitely something casual, like a burger or bbq joint. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

You fight about his recklessness. You knew who he was when you fell in love with him and you don’t want to change him, but sometimes, it gets to be too much and you lose your cool. One perk of dating Luffy, though, is that he has very high emotional intelligence, so if it’s one of those fights where you just need your space, he’ll give it to you, waiting patiently for you to approach him to make amends (although it does weigh on him quite a bit when the two of you are at odds, like he’s waiting for the hammer to drop on your relationship; he has such an intense fear of you leaving him it’s unreal. He also struggles with the separation because he’s so clingy). He doesn’t really talk through the fight and do the whole apology thing, just pounces on you and kisses all over your face as soon as he can sense you’re good and ready to receive his affection again. If it was a really bad one, he might pick some flowers to give you. 

Paradise 1: 

Meandering through the woods in search of the tallest, most impressive tree, him giving you a boost up to the first branch to get you started before climbing up himself, staying behind you the entire time so he can catch you in case you fall. Finally piercing the canopy and poking your heads up above the forest, his hand on your leg to keep you steady, the two of you grinning as birds fly by, basking in the afternoon sun. 

Paradise 2: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Nightmares: 

He grins at the sight of you standing on a cliffside looking out over the water, tranquil in the peace of night. He hurries toward you and puts his hand on your shoulder to turn you around, ready to place a happy kiss on your lips, only to stop short at the sight of your face. You’re completely devoid of joy, the life and will to live sucked out of you by a force he can’t control. You’re a husk, and he’s powerless against it. He realizes the darkness isn’t from night, that there are no stars glimmering in the sky, that the world has had the goodness sucked out of it, yours along with it, leaving you empty. He wakes up with tears in his eyes and buries his face in his pillow to muffle his sob. 

Wearing His Hat: 

Luffy is very protective of his hat. It’s his most prized possession, given to him by his beloved father figure. He’d fight the bloodiest war in human history to get that hat back should someone steal it from him. It’s for that reason he’s shocked by his own reaction when you get a little tipsy one night and pluck it off his head, placing it atop yours. 

“Call me Captain,” you tell the crew, going member by member and giving them orders, getting onto Zoro’s case for not saluting like Usopp and Chopper did. 

He doesn’t feel the urge to snatch it back, doesn’t feel even a touch of anxiety that you could misplace or damage it. Rather, he feels a sense of pride- everyone knows him by his straw hat, so if you’re wearing it, everyone knows you’re his. And it’s in that moment he realizes that you’re his- not his belonging, but his person. You’re the one he wants to walk through this life beside, the person who chose to wear his hat. 

I Love You: 

He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too. 

You’re Jealous: 

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[bluebellhairpin]

Sandor Clegane X Fem!Reader

Summary: A Mouse and a Hound, sounds like the start of a bad joke. It only gets worse when one's been scarred by ice, the other by fire. Who would've guessed they'd help each other face their fears before one chooses to face death. (word count; 8.7K <)

Warnings: Canon-typical themes. Probaby a 'too soft'/ooc Sandor. Injuries + blood + scars. Character death. Fighting. Swearing. Sandor and Reader match each other's jealous freak. Sexual themes (Smut is implied but not shown + they talk about fucking a lot.). Borderline eloping. Pregnancy + food cravings (chicken). Reader is fem bodied + she/her pronouns + called woman/daughter/wife/mother + smaller than Sandor + nicknamed Mouse.

Listening to: 'I Bet on Losing Dogs' by Mitski - "I bet on losing dogs. I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place by the ring... I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side."

AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Ice. It can be as thick as stone or thin like parchment paper. It can form as frost, snow, sleet and hail. Most often it covers lakes, rivers and the ocean in the cold weather of winter. Ice is water in its frozen, solid form. And right now you were standing on a giant lake covered in ice.

In the beginning it was so thick, covered in snow so well, that none of you even realised what it was you ran onto. With the weight of the wights swarming at your heels, though, it began to creak and groan.

The noise of the crack below your feet echoed in your mind. Nothing else mattered as you skid to a stop on shaky legs. Your eyes fixed on the slippery ice below, peripherals caught your group continuing to run away - to safety, thank the gods - and wights behind you fell into the water below, but strangely all you could see was your sister.

Her face floated beneath the ice, frozen in time in a place she wasn’t supposed to be, face dead from a time long ago. The wrights disappeared, the new shouts of your friends faded. You couldn’t look away. You’d spent so long trying not to remember what happened all those years ago, running from it, yet here you were.

No longer were you a woman grown battle-hard, but a girl who was foolish enough to ignore your parents warning to not play on the frozen lake. You’d brought your younger sister with you, so young and trusting, of course she’d believe her big sister wouldn’t lead her toward pain. You were supposed to protect her, love her, care for her. You’d see other children sliding around on the ice, so when your chores were done and the lake was void of others, you took your sister’s hand and told her you’d be able to play anything you both wanted without worrying about being knocked over by an older child.

Having the lake to yourselves was supposed to be fun.

It was the worst mistake you’d ever made in your whole life.

Winter was leaving. Although you were in the North, the ice was still thinning. No one else was there because they knew better. You didn’t know better. It took you both two laps before the ice cracked. One step was all it took to no longer support your weight. Your world was plunged into ice cold darkness. The freezing water hit your lungs, causing you to gasp on reflex. Your lungs filled with water, your eyes stung from the cold. You kicked and grasped for the surface, and reached it just before it was too late. Clawing at the ice, you pulled yourself to the thicker ice, coughing and shivering, thanking the Old Gods that you hadn’t drowned.

Then you noticed your sister was gone.

You sister whose hand you were holding. Who you dragged down with you after the ice cracked from your weight. Your weight, not hers. You couldn’t see her. She was so young. She couldn’t swim. It was all your fault.

You screamed her name. Screamed for help. Tears ran hot down your face. By the time help came the sun was fading, your throat was raw and your hands were sore, frozen and bloodied from pounding on the ice. You were shivering so hard your teeth felt like they’d crack. The people around you called your name. You couldn’t look away from the water.

They called your name again, and her face was all you could see below your feet.

Again, and she floated away. Down so deep no one could find her, not even when summer came again.

Again. Your name. Louder. Rougher. More desperate. You looked up from the ice. There was your group. Your friends. And Sandor Clegane. There was so much distance between you and yet you could see fear in his eyes like it was written on paper in your own hands.

Turning behind, you saw wights. Most had stopped still, but the ones closest to you were reaching toward you. Swiping and grasping at the air between you. They were so close. But so was the crack in the ice. It was the only thing dividing you from them - the only thing stopping them from coming closer, and the only thing stopping you from running to your friends. To Sandor.

Sandor had been your companion for so long, and now he wouldn't stop yelling at you to run. You’d run on ice before, it ended with your sister dead. He knew that. He was the only one who did - not Jon, not Tormund, no one else in the whole world had bared their fears to you like Sandor, so you hadn’t bared yours to them. Sandor knew why you couldn’t move, for you it was like the fire that rendered him useless, and yet.

“Come on you bitch, move!” he yelled.

Somehow his words hit you like a tonne of bricks. Your breathing picked up. You stopped listening to the ice. All you could hear was your heartbeat. All you could see was Sandor.

Your foot shifted, the ice groaned under your weight, it cracked behind you as you moved, but you ran. You weren’t even looking when you started running, keeping your eyes closed was the only way you could move at all. If Sandor’s face was the last thing you saw, so be it. You were sure that was going to be true.

Yet as your legs started the burn from how hard you ran, arms encased you. Frosted fur was under your fingertips, and your feet left the ground as your speed made you swing in the hold of whoever caught you. Your eyes opened and you sobbed. You did it. The ice didn’t crack. You made it to Sandor and you were safe. For now anyway, but that was all that mattered.

“You can slaughter wights, but ice is what gets you shaken up.” Sandor said as a cold calloused fingertip traced your jaw with a featherlight touch. “What a woman.”

“Don’t tease me.” you said between the chattering of your teeth. Funny, the cold hadn’t hit you until now.

“I ain’t teasing,” Sandor let you go slowly, as if pulling away would make you fall apart like broken glass. It mightn’t be a far truth with how much you were shaking. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it. “I just didn’t believe you when you said you were afraid. While you may be quiet as a Mouse you’ve never been afraid like one, but the look on your face made me think you were gonna die.”

“Would you pick water over wine?” you said, “Of course I was scared. Felt like I was going to shit out my own heart.”

“Ah, now I see why the Hound likes you.” Tormund said, nodding with his arms crossed. “You sound just like him. Like a bitch. I like that.”

“Fuck off.” Both you and Sandor spoke at the same time. The contrast between how he growled and you shuddered was comical, but the fact you both said it at the same time made the others laugh despite your dire circumstances. Tormund could only look at you as if to say ‘told you so’.

You looked up at Sandor, he was already looking down at you. With the energy you had left, you could only resign to letting it be. They could say all they wanted about your fondness for him, and his for you. At the end of the day you could deny it all you wanted but it wouldn't make it less true. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your shaking body to him as your group moved to the centre of the island you'd found yourselves on.

Now all you had left to do was hope the Dragon Queen Daenerys knew to come to your aid - because with the wights surrounding you, there was no way you were getting out of there on your own. Maybe it would've been better to have fallen into the lake.

There was a time when you were never so scared of ice - a feeling lost long ago to the passage of time. There was also a time when you didn’t know Sandor from a stranger on the street. You might never have met him at all if not for being in the right place at the right time.

You supposed the Starks were the cause of a lot of things in your lives.

You happened to be in Winterfell all those years ago when King Robert Baratheon visited Ned Stark. You were a messenger - one of the best - travelling all across the North had been your job over the few years prior. Ned insisted you stayed for the King’s feast before you left again, reasoning that your hard work needed to be rewarded now and then - beyond silver stags you were paid in.

So you joined the Starks to greet the King’s entourage, and that was where you saw Sandor Clegane for the first time. His eyes were hard and disinterested from under the dog helm he wore, and he was so large and imposing - but he was so quiet. The only words you ever heard him speak were when you’d come up behind him to offer to take the reins on his horse. He hadn’t heard you coming, and almost knocked you on your feet when you tapped his shoulder armour.

“Fucking mouse.” he’d said.

You however didn’t speak to him during that night at Winterfell, or at all during the days that followed, but you watched him. Saw him push away a mug of ale for a jug of wine. Watched as he ate, and watched as he walked away with Prince Joffrey. Really, it had taken a couple years to speak to him after you first met him.

Years after Robert Baratheon died, and Ned Stark was executed - you met him again. He was travelling with Arya near the kingsroad.

You’d spent the last few years working for Robb, King in the North. His father and mother had always trusted you to ferry messages and items all across the North, so he did too. You served faithfully until you took a message to the Bolton’s at the Dreadfort. Thereafter Ramsay Snow had taken you as a plaything, which had left you naked and alone in the woods one night with your back and shoulders torn to bloodied ribbons. A couple of farmers from the nearby Hornwood had found you, nursed you back to health - and with news that Robb was still at The Twins, you started travelling there as soon as your healing wounds allowed it.

News reached you of a justifiably dubbed Red Wedding, and the massacre that happened to the Stark army at The Twins. You knew you couldn’t go there anymore. It wasn’t safe there for you, and it wasn’t safe to go back North on your own either, not with the Bolton’s spiders crawling everywhere. So you went south. Aimlessly you followed the Kingsroad, and who else did you meet but a missing Stark daughter.

Arya had recognised you immediately. Your heart sang at the way her face lit up, and at seeing she was alive. She’d been lost after her father died, laying your eyes on her yourself was such a relief. Especially after hearing what the Frey’s did to Robb and Catelyn.

It took Sandor a moment longer. A few moments, actually. He’d dismounted his horse and watched you embrace Arya before giving a name to your face.

“Mouse,” he said. His face was hard to read, but you could see something in his eyes had changed since you last saw him shadowing Joffrey.

“Hound,” you replied. Apparently he didn’t like that. Sandor sneered down at you when he spoke again.

“Bitch.”

“Hey!” Arya said, turning from where she once held onto you. “She’s done nothing worth insults. Don’t call her that.”

“I can call her what I like - I’d bet money I don’t even have that she’s going to stop me from handing you in and getting my ransom.” Arya stepped forward as if to start arguing with the man before you set a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry Arya,” you said, “he can spew insults all he likes. I can see the stick that's shoved up his arse, must be uncomfortable. He has my sympathies to do as he pleases with his words.” Your comment both made Arya burst into giggles and Sandor turn away to mumble to himself. You mounted your horse, and as Arya climbed on after you.

“I’ll let you ride with her only if you follow me like there’s a leash on your horse, understand?” Sandor asked, turning his horse to stand right in front of yours. His eyes were just as hard as they were all those years ago at Winterfell, but they were no longer disinterested. Instead he looked at you in a way that made you feel like he was going to eat you alive. “Unless I have to leash you like a bitch?”

“My back is aching from when a Bolton bastard set his dogs on me, I don’t have the strength to match your insults right now, Ser.” You said. Arya was quiet behind you, the only reaction she had to your words was loosening her grip on your waist.

“I’m not a knight.” Was the only thing Sandor said before urging his horse to walk.

He only ever called you Mouse after that.

Fire. From a forest burning to a candle flame, it can be the difference between death or life. It can heat your home or leave the air smelling thick of smoke and ash. It can help wounds heal or can be the cause of them. Fire is as dangerous as heat can get. And right now there was an entire moat-worth of fire surrounding Winterfell.

You knew that the attack of the Night King was going to be bad - you’d seen the wights firsthand, fought them already, and you’d seen a White Walker take down a whole dragon. The worst part, by far, was having to wait and not being able to see nothing of what was coming, nothing except the ice cold winds of an early winter. The dragonfire helped as the battle started - but it also didn’t. You wanted to see, but as soon as you did you wished you hadn’t.

The sight flashed in your mind like a flickering flame. Coming and going. Waves and hordes of wights as far as the eye could see.

Daenerys’ army and the other soldiers had retreated back into Winterfell’s walls. You stood beside Arya watching the wights get burnt by the flames. They already smelt like death - rot and dirt and cold flesh - now their bodies were thawing and burning, and the smell of charred skin and muscle was being carried high by the smoke. You’d never smelt flesh burn before. You wondered if this was the smell that haunted Sandor.

You turned to look down at the returned soldiers lined up in formation in the courtyard below, searching for Sandor’s face among the dozens of men. When you couldn’t find him you turned back around. What if he hadn’t made it back inside the gate?

The thought that crossed your mind then was so strange. You wished you were facing a thousand frozen lakes. If you were, Sandor would be right by your side the whole time. He had no fear of ice, not like you did. The fire before you had scared him away from your side, if he was still around at all - but you’d much rather fear eaten him alive than death. The realisation shook you. Even now the strongest, most fearless man you ever knew was gone. Because he was scared.

You had a second realisation then. That one made you step away from the wall you perched by with dread - not because the wight’s had figured out how to cross the flames, but because Sandor was probably all alone.

“Where are you going?” Arya asked, watching as you slowly started to move.

“I need to be down there,” you said, your hand grazed her shoulder as you walked past, “I’ll see you in the morning.” you promised. Turning on your heel, you rushed down the stairs, almost slipping on the last one, to reach the soldiers below and begin pushing through them to find Sandor’s face among them.

“Ready yourselves, they’re going to breach the wall!” Someone shouted behind you, but you were too focused on hunting down your Hound. Really, you almost went right past him. He was hiding in a doorway, and if you hadn’t locked eyes you would’ve lost him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, rushing forward. “We need you to help us fight Sandor.” you said. You pushed yourself up, trying to level your face with his own. His head shook, clearly disagreeing.

“It’s fucking useless. Death’s at our door, it’s all around us we can’t fight that.” He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes reflected the orange glow of fire. He wasn’t listening to you, he was listening to the fire. “There’s no point.”

“And death was below my feet yet you made me run from it - and I did run from it, for you!” You said, an emotion reaching your voice that you hadn’t let show yet. “Fuck everyone else, I need you Sandor. I need you to fight. I can’t do it without you.”

Sandor looked at you then. His dark eyes no longer held an orange glow, instead they flickered across your face, distracted. You read him, saw his brow furrow and lips part open - he was going to argue. But you weren’t going to have that. You swung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him down to crash his lips to yours. It was a hard kiss, one that lasted too long to be considered safe in your circumstances, but it was distracting. Grounding. You needed to bring Sandor out of his own mind, and a kiss was a nicer way to do it than a slap to the face.

“If you don’t live to see the end of this night I’m going to find that red witch to bring you back to life so I can kill you myself.” You said with a gasp, pulling away with a hand on your sword. He seemed dazed, yet you could tell he was indeed more focused. “I need you to stay alive,” you added as you backed away to join the fight, “when this is all over I want you to fuck me.”

You were bloodied and covered in dirt, somehow limping, your head hurt like seven hells and you couldn’t stop smelling smoke, but you were alive. Somehow you were alive. The thought made you want to cry.

Not knowing if the same could be said about Sandor did make you cry. Tears blurred your vision as you searched. Every body laid dead wasn’t him, but neither was anyone left standing. It felt like your heart was breaking.

You stumbled through each hallway and room until you reached the doors to the main hall. Who knew what was waiting for you beyond the doors. You refused to dwell on it, instead shouldering the heavy oak open. Your knees almost gave way when you saw Sandor standing beside Melisandre. You surged forward, very nearly jumping into his arms. One wrapped around your waist while the other cradled your head close to his own. If you weren’t so busy being relieved you might’ve teased him about going soft.

But really you didn’t care about that right now at all.

You pulled away, letting him hold your weight completely as you took his face in yours hands.

“You’re alive.” you breathed, smiling in disbelief.

“A mouse told me you needed me to stay alive.” Sandor said, lips quirked up in a rare smile, “Couldn’t let down my woman.”

You’d counted the losses, burned your dead, and now were celebrating those who’d stayed alive. The feast, in all honesty, was magnificently loud. You were sure the only reason you’d lasted this long was because the shock of being alive hadn’t worn off yet.

Tormund had ushered you over to his table of Wildlings, and you'd already decided that you were going to steal their jug of wine when you went back to Sandor. The Wildling leader had his arm slung over your shoulder, swaying on his feet as he told some story about his life beyond the Wall. You were sure his story was as gripping as it was daring, but you really weren’t paying him mind at all. Your eyes weren’t leaving Sandor, and his weren’t leaving you.

He was looking at you like someone crossed a horny dog with a jealous badger, the jealous part flaring whenever Tormand leaned closer to talk right in your ear. He was drunk, and you’d learnt he was quite harmless - Sandor however probably didn’t know that. For everyone’s sake you probably should find your way out from under Tormund’s arm. After all he had the other occupied with another woman, and his drink, both of which would see his night ended happily.

You’d barely looked away from Sandor to grab the wine jug, turning to make up some excuse to pry Tormund’s arm off you when the man interrupted your unspoken words.

“Look,” Tormund leant down once again, whispering loudly in your ear as if attempting to be subtle, “A dead woman!” He pointed behind you, and you turned to see that indeed there was a woman. One who had sat herself down in the seat next to Sandor. Your seat.

“Excuse me,” you said, pulling away with the jug heavy in one hand, slipping an unused dinner knife in your other.

“Watch this lads, you’ll wish she was your wife after this.” You heard Tormund announce to his table as you stalked away. The poor lady had no idea you were coming.

You stood behind them, quickly your hand passed between them both as you reached forward. The tip of your stolen knife narrowly missed where the woman’s hand rested on the table. She jumped in her seat, hand flinching away into her lap, and looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Seeing as you need your tongue to suck a cock, and you probably want to keep yours, I suggest you fuck off and try and weasel your way into someone else’s man’s trousers.” You pulled the knife away from where it jammed into the wood, and she scurried away. In the background you heard a group of men erupt in laughter as you pushed the wine before Sandor, taking up the seat by his side.

“I was handling that.” Sandor said, watching as you settled into a place by his side which was much closer than anyone else would be allowed.

“The fuck you were.” you replied, reaching for his empty cup and filling it. He moved his arm from where you’d squished it between your sides, instead now letting his hand rest on your waist.

“I was.” he disagreed.

“Do you want to get in my pussy tonight or do you want to keep arguing?” You swivelled in your seat to face him, tilting your head. You could tell he was about ready to give up, a smile playing on his lips.

“Both sound like a good time to me.” he said, pulling you a little closer as he spoke, but he relented. Who would’ve ever guessed that you’d be the one to get the great fearsome Hound to heel so nicely.

You could see Sansa slowly walking over, her eyes were on Sandor. She must’ve felt you looking at her because then she looked at you. The softness of her face made you smile, and as much as you’d loved to stay and spend time with her, you could tell there were things that needed to be said between her and Sandor.

Moving to stand, Sandor’s hand tightened its hold on you. Before you left you lent down to capture him in a kiss. Short and sweet, and tasting like wine, a hint of what was to come later.

“You know where my room is.” you said, having distracted him enough to now start to move away.

“I’d knock down every door if I didn’t.” He squeezed your hip one last time before letting you slip away.

Having been a friend of the Starks for so long, and having done so much for them had granted you your own room. No communal servant’s barracks for you. Your room though was still small, but it was yours. There was a lit hearth, a washbasin, and a good bed - they’d even given you a large rug to cover the parts of the floor that were left without furniture.

You stood staring at the bed. It was plenty big enough when there was just you, Sandor though was a much larger person. Where it might fit two of you, It might just be comfortable for one of him. You smiled though, since it meant you’d just have to stay close to him if he did stay the whole night with you.

You really hoped he would stay. Really you’d want him to stay with you forever, but that decision wasn’t yours to make. You could only wish he felt the same.

A knock on your door had your heart skipping a beat. You barely had to open it before Sandor came in and shut it behind him. You took a step back as he stepped in. His only move then was to take your cheek in the palm of his hand.

“You promised. Gonna live up to that?” he asked. You stepped forward, placing your hand over his while your other looped under his belt to pull him closer.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” you said, “and my mind’s never been changed. I want as much of you as you can give me.” Sandor looked down at you with a smile.

Before you could blink, he reached down and his arm wrapped around the back of your thighs. Your hands grasped his shoulders as he lifted you into the air, and his face was level with your chest. Your stomach was pressed to his chest, and by the gods the way he made you feel so small was almost inhuman. Though, the way it excited you was borderline heavenly.

“Careful what you wish for.”

Indeed you were right, the bed was just too small for the both of you to spread out comfortably.

You couldn’t really say you wanted to do that though. His skin was so warm, heartbeat so strong under our palm, and despite how sticky you both were with sweat, being so close to him felt so nice. It was like finally soaking into a hot bath - the relief and pleasure of it even now it was all over - it was like you needed him.

Floating in and out of sleep and awake while being wrapped in him under the furs of your bed was indeed what heaven must feel like.

Although it had you thinking in among your dazed and hazy pockets of sleep. How strange it was that Sandor seemed to feel the same way. He hadn’t let you so much as move to be by his side, let alone let you go.

He’d never been quite like this before - tolerated it from you, sure, but never recoperated to such an extent. It made you feel like something was wrong.

Your head raised from where it was tucked just below his burn scar, and you felt his arms shift to keep you close as you pulled back just enough to see his face clearly through the last light of the candles burning.

“Something is wrong.” you said. Sandor’s chest rose and fell beneath you in a sigh. So there was something he wasn’t telling you. His lips stayed sealed shut though, and you weren’t going to have that. “Sandor, tell me.” you whispered.

“I can’t stay,” he replied.

The way he spoke had genuine concern rising inside you, you’d never heard him talk like that before in your whole life - maybe he never even had until now. It wasn’t that you were worried about him leaving you, although the thought had you feeling so sad you could be angry, but instead you were filled with an awful amount of dread. It was like he was telling you he wasn’t coming back. Like he was dying.

“I want to but, fuck, I can’t. There’s something I have to do and no one else can do it for me.” That made you think back to all the times he confided in you about revenge. It hit you like a wall of stone - that he was leaving you to go kill his brother. Somehow he must’ve felt it land in your heart. A calloused hand ran up your back, lightly tracing your scars up to your shoulders, pushed you back down so your head rested next to his, body pressed flush to his own.

You felt like the only thing you could do was hold onto him tighter, sliding your hands in under his back and pressing yourself so close that your ribs might just open up and keep him there with you instead. But they weren’t, so instead you just let your tears fall.

“But you’ll die.” you whispered, lips tickled by the hair of his beard since you now refused to let him go.

“I know.” he said, and with the gentleness of a much smaller and kinder man, he turned his head and kissed the tears away from your cheeks. “Don’t cry. I’m not worth your tears.”

“No Sandor, you’re worth so much more than that. I’d give my life for yours. I can’t believe you can’t see it for yourself.” Your hands curled, fingernails digging into his skin. Sandor didn’t flinch, perhaps he saw the pain as a just punishment for cracking your heart in two, so you relented, instead pressing your nose into his neck. “I don’t know if I can live without you now.”

For what felt like a long time, he didn’t say a word. He let you cry some more, and didn’t once try to stop you, just held you as close and hard as you held him. Over his breathing, you heard the coals in the fire crackle one last time and fall into the soft ashes.

Your tears had stopped, and breathing turned shallow, when he spoke again.

“When I close my eyes for the last time I want to see your face,” he said. Under your chest, his heartbeat quickened. “The face of my wife.”

A moment passed.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” It took him longer to answer you, you thought perhaps you didn’t say it outloud.

“Does it sound like I am?”

You sat up, palms on his chest as he looked up at you with his hands gripping your hips and waist.

“Sort of? But right after you told me you’re going to fuck off and kill your cunt brother? Your timing is a bit shitty.” you asked. His hand squeezed your hip and his eyes fixed straight up onto the ceiling.

“It’s selfish, to marry you just to make you a widow, I know that but I think you know I’m not someone who thinks much of others.” You leant back over him then. Forearms framing his head as you brought your face over his.

“You do, you think of others often. I know your heart’s bigger than you realise - that’s why I’ll marry you.” The way his face changed when he heard your soft words from one of self-loathing to one full of love - all directed at you - made you wish you hadn’t spent so much time not sharing a bed. “We can do it tonight. We can wake the septa, no one else has to be there.”

“No, no Faith fuckers.” he responded gruffly before pausing, “Unless you want that?” He backtracked so fast it almost made you laugh. You shook your head though. You were from the North, if you believed in gods at all, the Seven weren’t yours.

“I’d rather go before the Old Gods -”

“- then we’ll do that.” Sandor cut you off. He sat up then, with you still placed nicely in his lap. The furs on your bed almost slid away, but he held them up to your shoulders so the cold night air didn’t reach you. “If we do it, we’ll fucking do it properly.”

You knew how foreign to proprietary Sandor was, it almost wasn’t even a word in his vocabulary. You’d thought about marrying him in the past, what that kind of life would be like. You’d imagined just running off someplace no one knew your names and saying you were husband and wife. Never once did an actual wedding cross your mind, yet here Sandor was offering it to you on a hastily prepared silver platter.

It made your heart ache in such a bittersweet way. Why did you both have to wait until it was almost too late?

There were very few people who you could think of to wake for a last minute wedding in the middle of the hour of the wolf. Night was at its darkest, people would be in the dead of sleep. Or that’s what you thought when you and Sandor carefully chose who you wanted most to be there.

Arya was the first person both you and Sandor could think of. She either wasn’t sleeping at all or was having a hard time doing so, because when you knocked on her door she was as awake as you were. The way her face lit up reminded you of when you first saw her after hearing about her brother and mother’s death.

She’d immediately thought of Sansa, as if you hadn’t already. You said Sandor was doing the same as you were with the elder Stark sister, so instead she offered to get Jon herself. As Warden of the North, and head of Winterfell, by right he was the only person who could properly officiate a marriage before the Old Gods. You barely gave her permission to go fetch him before she was off down the hallway to get him all on her own.

There was only one person left for you to get then.

By the time you’d reached the Godwood, there were a surprising amount of torches lined up and around the weirwood heart tree. It had seemed that while a lot of people in Winterfell had gone to bed, word had spread to those who had continued to stay up to celebrate or couldn’t sleep. Sandor and you only invited four people, yet there were at least a dozen torches, maybe more.

Arya and Sansa stood lining the short pathway you were to walk to reach Sandor near the base of the tree. On the other side you saw the faces of Brienne and Gendry. Among the more distant crowd there were people from across Winterfell, and the glint of a gold hand could be seen from the torchlight. Even Daenerys with her white hair had quietly joined with a content look on her face, and a torch in her hand just like everyone else.

You almost couldn’t believe that all those people were awake, yet thought this was worth leaving their beds for. But then you supposed rounding out a victory celebration with a wedding was a hell of a way to do it. Or for some an excuse to prolong their drinking and eating just that bit longer. Whatever the reason, you didn’t really care.

All you cared about was the man waiting for you below the white barked tree, and how badly you wished that this was under different circumstances - that he wasn’t doing it just because he was leaving you to die tomorrow.

"Who comes before the Old Gods on this night?" Said Jon. You had no family, at least none who could come to Winterfell so quickly. Jon was already occupied, so there was only one other person you could think of to drag out of bed to represent you at your wedding. And he was someone who’d probably never been to a Northern wedding once in his whole life.

In fact he was someone who thought you and Sandor were already married.

"A daughter of the North comes here.” Tormund said, he paused for a moment, swaying on his feet as he tried to remember the words Jon hastily tried to get him to memorise. “A woman, grown,” He finally started, “She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods to be wed. Who comes to claim her?" Sandor stepped forward, hands clasped together in front of his belt. He was refusing to look at anyone else but you.

“Sandor of House Clegane. Who gives her?"

"Tormund.” Tormund said, you could see from the way Jon’s eyebrows raised that he was expected to say more. “Giantsbane. Of the True North.” He added. Jon sighed as Arya snickered from where she stood to your right.

"Will you take this man?" Jon asked you. You looked up at Sandor, smiling as an overwhelming urge to cry rose inside you. You willed it down, wanting to keep on a facade that tonight was happy, and not the sweetest goodbye in the whole world.

"I take this man." you said.

You hadn’t seen Sandor in months. You couldn’t lie, you didn’t expect him to come back, both of you knew that a fight against Gregor Clegane was always one that ended in death.

News travelled fast about the destruction of Kings Landing. You hadn’t heard from him since then, there was really no other conclusion to come to except that he’d been part of the massacure. You desperately hoped that Gregor died too, that at least if you did lose Sandor it wasn’t in vain.

Despite that, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it. So you ran. Weeks ago, you’d arrived at the Wall to meet with Tormund. Almost all the places that you called home were haunted by Sandor - you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You couldn’t stand to be in the North, so you decided to go beyond. Somewhere where no one would know your name or his.

A land of ice and snow was better than having to stay where everything reminded you of him. If you stayed, you would’ve flung yourself off the tallest tower you could find - and that, you knew now, would’ve been counterintuitive to preserving what Sandor had left behind.

Most of those in Castle Black gave you a wide berth. You didn’t blame them, you weren’t really making yourself friendly. But one awkward conversation about what happened had Tormund acting almost like a guard dog. ‘Nothing could take down your man’ Tormund had said - you would’ve bet money that there were tears in your eyes when you replied ‘You’ve never met his brother’. It was good, having Tormund watching your back like that, since no one ever asked you what happened, but it was bad because no one ever asked you anything anymore.

Most of your days were spent on top of the Wall, waiting until the day you could leave with the Wildlings when they left to return to their home. Not many joined you up there. Tormund came at least once a day, ‘to make sure you haven’t fallen off’ - usually around dinnertime. Any other time meant something happened which he deemed worth your attention.

“A raven came.” Tormund said one day, “It’s from Winterfell.” You could see the crumpled paper in his hand over the fur of your cloak. You turned back to the ledge.

“I don’t want to read it.” Your arms crossed under your cloak, resting over your stomach.

“You should.” He said and stepped forward with his hand outstretched. You turned on your heel, almost coming nose to nose with the Wildling leader.

“Go. Away.” you hissed, bearing your teeth at him in a way akin to a cornered dog. He stared at you down his nose, watching as your eyes flickered over his face, and then as you turned away again.

Apparently though he wasn’t done.

“Jon’s coming.” He started again. You almost rolled your eyes - the man couldn’t leave anything alone. You just hoped this wasn’t the raven that brought the message of Sandor’s death. “Since you’re going to be a bitch about it, you can find out the rest when he arrives.”

In a way you supposed that was good news. At the very least laying eyes on Jon would be a familiar comfort. Having him tell you to your face that your husband died could be considered a mercy.

After having spent time at this exact castle a few years ago after the first time you thought Sandor died, it was almost unfit for Jon to not be here. He helped you a lot the first time, maybe he could do it again. Although this time you weren’t sticking around, and this time you had a little more than just yourself to take care of.

Behind you, Tormund sounded like he was beginning to leave when he stopped again.

“And you should come down. Food’s almost ready, you need to eat.” he said.

“I’m not hungry.” you called over your shoulder.

“I’m not telling you to eat for your own sake,” he replied. You looked back at him, and he raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Tormund, somehow, knew about your condition before you realised yourself. You hadn’t had your blood in months, longer than the last time you saw Sandor, and in the beginning you didn’t think much of it. Sometimes you missed it completely, especially considering everything you’d been through. You reasoned the grief alone would be enough. Tormund thought differently.

When you asked him how he knew - which he brought up while supervising you eating on one of the first night’s you arrived at Castle Black - he gestured to your chest, talking about how they looked different, like those of a woman who's going to have a babe.

He was lucky he moved so fast, otherwise the knife you threw at him would’ve ended in his shoulder and not the wall.

Regardless, it made you think. All evidence pointed to it being a possibility, and as the days turned to weeks with no blood, your unwell feeling seemed less like mourning and more like sickness. Now, apparently, your unborn child had become your weakest point. Tormund could use it to make you do just about anything he wanted - which mostly was making you eat and sleep closer to a normal person than you would’ve liked.

So you sighed with one more longing glance beyond the Wall.

“Fine,” you said, “let’s go eat.”

Not two weeks later, and you were atop the Wall again. That day was particularly cold, even the little fire you stood next to wasn’t helping keep you warm. Your teeth chattered, and you cursed the wind, but you didn’t go back down to the castle.

The sun was barely seen in the sky through the clouds, but you could tell it was only midday when you heard the telltale noises of footsteps trekking in your direction. They didn’t sound like Tormund’s, so you didn’t hold back your bite when called out to them.

“Come another step closer and I’ll shove one of these burning logs right up your arse.” you said, refusing to turn around, shoving your hands under your arms to help stop the cold reaching your fingers. “Tormund can go fuck his horse. I’m not falling for it again, if Jon’s here he can come see me himself.”

“That’s a ‘fuck you’ of a welcome if I’ve ever heard one.” That voice. You knew it. Your head whipped around so fast you could have broken your own neck. “I don’t know what else I expected though.” You were dreaming, surely. There was no way Sandor was standing before you.

“I’ve gone mad.” you whispered, unblinking in case closing your eyes for a moment would make him disappear. “You died.”

“I didn’t.” He slowly stepped forward, snow crunching under his feet, and he came to a stop just before the step up to the ledge you stood on. Your face was almost level with his now. Gods, his face was more worn than you remembered, but he sure looked real. “My wife needs me to be alive. So I lived.”

Your hand reached out to his face, tracing the lines of his scar and the edge of his beard. His hand reached out to grab your wrist, head turning so he could kiss your palm. His eyes closed for a moment as your skin touched his, and when his eyes opened again it was like a shot went through your heart. He really was here.

“You really are alive.” you breathed. He smiled, oh how you missed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you. The sight brought a smile to your own face, something you hadn’t done since you last saw him.

“If I’m not, this is the best death a man could ask for.” he said, and his hand snaked under your cloak and found its place right on your hip - where it belonged. You other hand moved to the other side of his face, cradling it in your hold so you could take in every line, scar, and hair.

“No, Sandor Clegane,” you said, near close to tears in relief to have him back, “you’re as alive now as the day I first met you.” With a gentleness like the kind he showed on your last night together, he leant forward and kissed you. He was so warm, you’d missed it so much more having thought you’d never get a chance to feel it again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you almost drowned in the moment of finally holding him again.

You barely moved away when the kiss broke, too caught up in having him back to want to pull away completely. It was a shiver that brought you back to earth, one that came from you, and one that had Sandor frowning.

“You shouldn’t be out in the cold.” he said, tucking you in under his arm and pulling you away from the ledge and back toward the elevator, “You hate the cold. Makes me wonder why you were going to go out there in the first place.”

“It’s about the only place this side of the Narrow Sea that I thought wouldn’t remind me so much of you that I’d be sick.” The hand that rested on your shoulder squeezed knowingly. Your own hand reached out from under your cloak and took hold of his fingers. You doubted you wouldn’t be able to physically let go of him for a while.

“Guess that’s not a problem anymore.”

“Fuck no,” you scoffed, turning to him as he pushed open the elevator door for you, “I’m dragging you to Dorne after this so I can thaw out.”

“You don’t like the heat either.” His fingers stayed grasped on yours as he guided you through the door first. Somehow his large hand hadn’t been bitten by the cold yet, and his palm felt so warm against your frozen fingertips. His warmth made you smile, it was more proof that he was really standing before you.

“I don’t care,” you said, smiling up at him, “I won’t care as long as I’m with you.”

“Chicken?” Sandor asked. “You don’t like chicken.”

You looked across at him from where you sat in Castle Black’s dining hall. You were currently sucking a chicken bone clean of its cooked flesh, and you shrugged at his almost confused way of frowning at you. In the past it might have been true - you preferred more iron-rich meats, which often left the chicken all for Sandor - but not anymore. You’d even stolen some off his plate.

“I do now.” you said, licking at your fingers. “Your child has been having a powerful influence over me already. Unfortunately it’s one of the few things I can stomach right now.”

“Child?”

“You didn’t notice?” You sat back, pushing your cloak aside purposefully to reveal your stomach, showing it off a little - as if there was even anything to show yet. “I think I’ve even started getting bigger.”

“Big?” Sandor scoffed, sitting back in his seat but still eyeing you wearily, ”You’re pulling my dick if you think I’d notice. Everyone’s small to me, no matter how ‘big’ they think they are.”

“You’re so mean to me. The mother of your child -”

“For fucks sake.” he mumbled. His eyes rolled, and a hand came up to run over his face when you started talking again.

“- You ought to be nice to me, I’ve been mourning you a long time, and looking after your child all on my lonesome.”

“Excuse me. Liar!” Tormund stood abruptly behind you, causing you to jolt in your seat as his own scraped against the stone floor. “I’ve been keeping you fed! The Hound will have no choice but to like me for keeping his woman healthy for his return.” He spoke proudly, coming to your side and resting a hand on the table near your plate.

“Fuck off.” Both you and Sandor said. You weren’t happy about him coming near your food, and Sandor was just unhappy with Tormund around.

The contrast between how you growled it out and how his voice was more of a mumble made Tormund bark out a laugh. The switch in personalities was comical, even you could see it. It reminded you of a similar time, one where the stakes were more deadly than just losing food, but felt no less homely because you had Sandor by your side then just as you do now.

The look Tormund sent your way was knowing, almost loving in a way that was as inconspicuous as your hulking personality of a husband allowed. Nevertheless his hands raised in surrender, and he stepped away as he sent a wink toward Sandor.

With the Wildling gone, you turned back to Sandor. He was already looking at you. If anyone didn’t know him like you did they might’ve thought he was so deep in thought that he was looking right through you - but you knew better. He was looking right into you instead. Deep into your soul that he might as well have laid you bare and be picking you apart.

“You’re having a child?” he finally asked. So that’s what he was trying to figure out.

“I’m having your child.” You bowed your head, keeping eye contact, pointing to him with a bare bone as you switched to another as you spoke. He leaned forward, tilting his own head ever so slightly.

“You sure it’s mine?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Now was your turn to scoff, food forgotten, and you leant forward so your heads were even closer. So close you could almost whisper and still be heard. “The only person I’ve been with in the last five years is you.”

Sandor smiled then. An almost-full, genuine-looking smile. His next words were softly spoken, almost proud.

“So you’re gonna be a mother,” he said. It made you want to lean even closer and kiss him senseless.

“And you’re gonna be a father.” you replied. He reverted back to that deep stare, an almost dopey, soft look in his eyes now. It took a few quiet breaths before he talked again.

“We’re gonna be a family.”

“We already are.” Sandor had a small gentle smile, one you realised was reserved only for you. It made you all soft and gooey inside. You couldn’t help it, he was asking for it. You had to kiss him now.

taglist: @anxiety-made

[justasecretflower]

🤍- ouran host club with a Pregnant! S/o

Characters are all older.

Ouran! High school host club

~fluff.

Honey Senpai🍰

- He’s so sweet with you!

- you guys eat cake with each other 24/7

- offers to carry you everywhere if your feet hurt, he’s insanely strong and can lift you up easily.

- gets you all of your cravings.

- lets you hold his bunny when you have mood swings💕

- gets the baby their own bunny before they’re born with the name you picked embroidered on the ear.

- when you cry, he cries.

- you’re crying because you can’t have a craving? So is he, you’re crying because you just saw a video of a baby seal? So is he, you’re crying because you love the baby you haven’t even met yet? So is he, also he’s holding onto the ultrasound with a death grip

- speaks to your belly alllll the time like atp if people are around him they’d think an actual, real adult was speaking to him he’s so engaged in the little conversations with your belly.

“Hmm should we have strawberry or coconut cake first baby…let’s choose both!”

“You know I’ve been so excited to meet you, me and your momma. Look! Here’s a picture of you!” As he shows your belly and ultrasound

“Good morning baby, how are we feeling today?”

“Goodnight baby! Dont give your mommy a hard time this night alright?” He would whisper, kissing your belly goodnight with a bright smile.

- if someone makes you cry or feel insecure about having a big belly he just gives them a look and they run away.

-cries when he sees the tiny baby clothes.

Tamaki Suoh 🌹

- he’s so dramatic 🙄ughhh

- “are your feet tired my love?! You’ve walked 20 minutes already today! Your feet must hurt my baby must be kicking in there ready to rest!”

“Someone get my darling a foot massage and a back massage spa day booked right now please! She must be hurting all over!”

- he’s making sure you don’t move an inch.

- knows more about what you should and should not do pregnant more than you do?

- gets all of your cravings x10. Like, you want some corn? Suddenly, there’s fried corn, corn on the cob, corn off the cob, creamed corn, popcorn, corn and beans, corn on some mashed potatoes. Everywhere, and you best bet they’re the best corn that they could possibly get.

- he finds your bump so cute, you have new maternity pictures every month with a new theme he puts on the wall blown up in size.

- girl dad. Just saying…

- sometimes he just randomly stops his whole charming prince act, gets on his knees and hugs your bump, sighing in contentment.

- spoils the baby rotten before they’re even here.

Kyoya Ootori

-now..you’re not gonna like this but he’s a little disconnected to the child until he meets them irl.

- like, he just finds the kid a tiny bump on his wife’s belly.

-sometimes, you’ll catch him staring at the ultrasound, tracing the outline of the baby carefully.

- he hates getting woken up, but if you’re sick in the middle of the night he’s immediately at your side rubbing your back and asking for some staff to help.

- researches about all of your symptoms, cravings, mood swings, what happens to the body during pregnancy and during the after math in postpartum.

- already has a therapist and a calm down room for you if you get ppd or ppr so that you can simply feel at peace.

-he cares more about you ngl.

“My dear no- you can’t deli meat like that it’s highly risky for salmonella. Put it back now.”

Kaoru Hitachiin

- cries so hard when you found out. Just fell to his knees and started crying.

- he’s more open about his feelings, much softer than his brother, so he’ll talk to the bump and tell you everything he’s feeling, asking in turn how you’re feeling as well and if you need anything.

- very very understanding of your pain.

“I know, I know, you’ll be okay, I understand that it hurts right now though”

“Hey we’ll get through this, what do you need right now?”

When you throw up or are having severe back and feet pains.

- doesn’t let anybody comment or joke about your belly if it makes you insecure. He kisses it and tells you how much he loves you and your belly.

Hikaru Hitachiin

- you’ve never seen him so serious in your entire life.

-it’s like he’s a different person?,.

- he’s extra careful, makes sure you’re protected and feel safe.

-he jokes with you when you feel like you’re in pain or when you’re throwing up to make you feel better.

- finds you absolutely radient when pregnant lemme say..

“It’s so small!” When holding up baby clothes.

- puts his headphones on your belly to have your baby listen to music.

- when you try to do anything that you used to do like play fight or pillow fights he’ll barely even use strength.

“Come on Hikaru you seriously can’t even aim for me anymore?”

“I was! It just went the other way!”

“Hikaru it’s in the bathroom toilet.”

- keeps the ultrasound in his wallet.

Takashi Morinozuka

- 100% your #1 protector

- you’re not lifting a finger near anything that’s easily breakable or that can hurt you.

- one of the times you saw him break the non chalent act is when you first saw the ultrasound. He took a breath in and his eyes lightly lit up

- you’re never on the ground. Like, he’s always carrying you everywhere..

“Mori i can walk you know.”

Mori- “😒…”

- loves to feel the baby kick! He will literally sprint over to you if you say that the baby is kicking

“Mori do you think I’m fat?”

“No.”

“You😭definitely 😭 do😭”

“😟…”

Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles, he cannot get OFF OF YOU!!

- spooning you, he’s big spoon ofc, hugging you from behind, having your legs wrapped around his waist, carrying you bridal style.

Ritsu Kasanoda

-sobbed when he found out you were pregnant

-he’s such a softie like

- he crotchets the baby plushies

- gets the baby blankets, pillows, stuff for their wall, so much stuff, so many toys…

- when he smiles the biggest is when he’s leaning his head on your belly and stroking it gently, talking to the little one inside.

- constantly worried about what’s good or bad for you.

- “hi honey, how’re you feeling today?”

“My precious baby inside of this belly.”

“I’d burn the world for you and I haven’t even met you yet precious baby.”

-his staff is terrified, if they make even the slightest comment about your belly negatively.

-if someone does certainly they’re a rookie because nobody from his syndicate would say that.

- sobs when he goes to ultrasounds with you.

- reads parenting books. Tries to. He can’t focus for that long but when he can he’s reading parenting books.

need requests so bad

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