#i told yall this was my personality now AND I MEANT IT

[dawnbreakersgaze]

No, no I'm not done playing with this set up yet.

Thank you for asking 😌

[echoxshxrx]

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[rafecameronsslut4ever]

SO LONG, LONDON — lando norris (angst)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: a goodbye to the city that gave you everything and nothing. (and the man that gave you everything and nothing.) warnings: angst angst angst, not proofread (please lmk if something's written wrong i love you guys😓) a/n: idk how to say this but lando is the perfect person to write angst about. like dating lando would be the best time of ur life, but when its over, its enough to make u bang ur head on the wall (don't tell me to write a part 2 i cave under yall's pressure and i have my exams coming up😋)

london was known for never being quiet. but that day, the city was absolutely quiet—just a faint hum in the air of the early morning.

you dragged your suitcase behind you, its wheels clicking against the uneven pavement.

streetlights blurred in the mist, golden halos stretching like they were trying to hold you back.

it was the kind of day you used to love once.

you passed a familiar corner, pausing as its fairy lights shined through the mist. the little cafe across the street glowed warmly, even at this hour.

if you closed your eyes, you could almost hear the sound of lando’s laugh, the clink of his coffee cup against the table.

that was your place—your and lando's.

the first place he had told you he loved you.

he had said it casually, like he wasn��t giving you the most fragile part of himself to hold.

"what are you staring at?” you had teased, wiping the layer of coffee that had collected on your lips.

“you,” he said simply, eyes soft in a way that made your stomach twist. “i love you, you know?”*

you remembered smiling, biting back the emotions that swelled in you.

you'd only nodded, whispering “i know.” as if that were enough.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking you from the trance. you didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. the messages have been coming all night, one after the other, as if he had only just realised that you were leaving.

the city was awake now, slowly stirring. cabs passed by, the occasional commuter rushing past you without a glance. you leaned next to a streetlamp, looking up at the faint light of the sky.

he hates this moment, you thought. lando always hated goodbyes.

“why london?” he’d asked you once, not long after you moved there. the two of you were lying on the couch, legs tangled, his arm resting lazily over your waist.

“why monaco?” you had asked back, smirking when he groaned in mock frustration.

“not the same thing. i’m practically married to monaco,” he said.

you rolled your eyes. “okay. i guess london feels like somewhere you can build something. a life, maybe. i don't know.”

he’d gone quiet at that, staring at the ceiling.

"technically, you're a london boy." you said, breaking the silence.

"why?"

"you just give off london vibes." you stated, "like, if i was going to associate a city with you, it would be london. and anyways, london and lando are almost the same word."

you walked towards a bridge, one overlooking the thames. it was where he had kissed you that first night.

it had started pouring as you halted to a stop to stare out at the city that had given you everything and nothing all at once.

you closed your eyes, breathing the air.

it was a goodbye to london.

and for the first time, you let yourself accept that it meant goodbye to him, too.

your grip tightened on the railing, the cold stone grounding you in an unsaid way.

you used to hold lando's hand that way—tight, like you could anchor him to you, keep him from drifting out of reach.

and for a while, it worked.

but only for a while.

lando was always somewhere else, even when he was with you. his mind on the next race, the next city, the next thrill.

you had given everything you had to pull him back each time, to remind him of the two of you.

he hadn’t asked you to give him anything. not your time, your love, or the best years of you life. but that was the thing about lando—he never asked. somehow, he took without realising.

you were by his side as he flew across countries, to parties, to tracks, to houses that never felt like homes.

you poured yourself into his world until yours felt like a shadow.

there was that tiny flat the two of you shared in london—just you, him, and the possibility of something bigger. it wasn't flashy like the one in monaco, not big like the one in california.

you'd left in the night, without a word, just the hollow echo of a door closing behind you.

it wasn’t dramatic. there was no fight, no dramatic crying. just the dull ache of his absence, like he’d slipped through yours fingers when you weren't looking.

you had hoped that he would ask you to give a reason. that he’d say something. but he didn’t.

lando got all of you. all the bright, reckless moments that you'd never get back.

a couple jogged past you on the bridge, heatedly bickering as they continued down their path.

a few days before the breakup, lando and you had gotten into an argument.

you were sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, staring out at the blurred lights of the city.

he was pacing, the way he always did when he was restless.

“i don’t get it,” lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “you’re acting like everything’s falling apart. like i’m the problem here.”

you looked at him, shaking your head. “you are the problem, Lando. you’ve been the problem for weeks now, and i’m fucking tired of it.”

his face hardened, a flash of irritation crossing his features. “you always do this. you make everything about me.”

"i always do this?" you stood abruptly, scoffing. "are you being serious? you think i'm making everything about you? what about me, huh? you’ve been distant for months, pulling away every chance you get. i’ve tried—tried—to fit myself into your world, to make it work."

he shook his head, “you’re always looking for the exit, aren’t you?”

“don’t fucking do that. don’t try to make this my fault,” you snapped back, voice harsh.

his jaw tightened, knuckles white where he gripped the back of the chair. “you want me to pretend like it’s not? you know what this life is like. you know what i am like.”

your stomach twisted, head shaking slowly. “do you even hear yourself? do you even see me anymore?”

he threw his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. “you always try to make yourself the victim, don’t you? like you’re the only one who’s losing something here.”

“losing something?” you repeated, voice cracking. “lando, i gave up everything for you. everything! i left my life, my friends, my family. i waited in airports, sat alone at tables, smiled when I didn’t feel like smiling, all because i thought we were building something real. and for what? for this? for you to keep drifting away? fuck, i’m tired of pretending that it’s enough to just be near you when you’ve already checked out a long time ago.”

the words hit him like a blow to the stomach, harsher than you wanted them to be. for a moment, he freezed.

you saw it—the flicker of guilt, the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you were right. but he just stood there, the weight of the argument pressing down on both of you, suffocating the room.

that was the moment. the shot that fired without either of you realising it.

and then there was the night you had walked into his monaco apartment late, after a dinner with the wags. it was well past midnight.

he was on the couch, sprawled out in the dim light coming from the glass balcony, an empty bottle of beer resting on the floor beside him.

“lando?” you asked softly, setting your bag down.

his head turned lazily, eyes bloodshot but focused on you in a way that made you suck in your breath.

“you’re abandoning the ship, aren’t you?” he slurred, the words cutting even through his inebriated speech.

“what?” you whispered, taken aback.

“you’re never there anymore,” he muttered, sitting up unsteadily. “no races. no paddock. you don’t want to be with me. you’re... you’re not leaving, right?”

you froze. the irony was almost laughable. how could you be abandoning the ship when you were the silently one going down with it?

“i’m here, lando,” you said finally, your voice tight.

but he didn’t reply. he just shook his head, leaning back against the cushions as if continuing the conversation was too much for him to bear.

you turned away, retreating to the kitchen under the guise of fetching water. but really, it was to hide the way your hands trembled, how your chest ached with a sadness too big for words. you weren't abandoning the ship, fuck, you were going down with it.

now, standing on the bridge in the pouring rain, the memory felt distant, but it still left the same sting. you hadn't even realised how long you’d been standing there, the chill seeping into your weary bones.

the rain made you shiver, wet through your clothes, and you decided it was best to find warmth before heading to the airport. a small cafe caught your eye, its dim yellow lights asking you to enter.

you chose a seat by the window, your damp reflection staring back at you. but as you stared at yourself, another memory tugged at you, pulling you under.

in vegas, the paddock was loud, buzzing with the usual hum of race day, but to you, it was deafening in a way that wasn’t about noise.

kym illman had been snapping photos of the everyone, and when he got to lando and you, he told you both to 'appear more in love'—arms around each other, eyes set on one another, and smiles for the cameras.

but the second kym turned his back, lando stepped away, his expression blank as he moved towards the crew. no glance back, no acknowledgment of you still standing there.

he’d left for the track that morning without so much as a goodbye, and now he didn't even stand by your side for more than a moment.

hours later, you’d see the tiktoks. people talking about the way he pulled his arm away, the way his smile seemed forced. you trended for all the wrong reasons as strangers pieced together the cracks in your relationship from nothing more than a video captured from another angle.

you wished they were wrong. but they weren’t.

and the same truth had lingered that night at dinner. a dinner meant to be casual, a chance to reconnect with friends, but the moment he left the table, you knew it was over.

he’d said he needed to step out for a minute. then it became ten. twenty. eventually, max texted his girlfriend, explaining that the boys had gone to play golf because lando had suggested it.

so you sat there, at a table full of people you barely knew, the laughter and conversation swirling around you. pietra smiled at you once or twice, but it was still never enough to make you feel like you fit in, because you truly didn't.

when the check came, you paid your share quietly and walked back to his apartment alone, heels clicking against the empty streets. you realised you couldn’t keep doing this; couldn’t keep holding onto someone who didn’t want to be held.

there was so much love before everything had turned bitter.

when lando would call you after races, his voice bright and full of life, swearing he loved you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he’d leave you voice notes in the middle of the night, reminders that he was thinking of you even when you weren't there.

his parents used to joke about the two of you getting married, and it wasn’t just them. his friends would tease him, and he’d grin, pulling you close like he couldn’t imagine a future without you.

for a while, you believed it too. you’d pictured it—the altar, the vows, the life you’d build together.

but then, it all changed.

you started waiting for proof that he still loved you, that the spark you once shared wasn’t gone for good. but then the waiting slowly drained you, bit by bit.

and just like that, it was over.

lando and you had a good run—a fleeting moment in life that felt like sitting under the warm sun on a chilly winter morning.

but it ended just as quickly. clouds rolled in and the london rain took over to make you realise that you weren't the one for each other.

one gun dug two graves.

[mournings-stars]

could i have anything with a married vox x reader pleasee? i'm so obsessed with this television it isn't even funny 😭

okay im FINALLY publishing this — in my defense i wrote like five vox x wife!readers after getting this and couldn't decide which to publish to this ask but now yall are getting over protective husband vox cus i love him and now i wanna make an actual fic also i originally read this request as wife!reader so i made reader fem but I'm just now realizing it's married i hope that's okay!!

warning: vox is a little crazy and reader does not care

No one knew Vox was married — and it wasn’t because he wanted to hide you, or he felt ashamed. He could never feel ashamed; you were basically his pride and joy — It was because he couldn’t stand anyone trying anything with you. Especially because of how much he doted on you. Someone could easily see how much he cared and use it against him — they could hurt you, manipulate you, maybe even force you into a soul-binding deal. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That was why you lived very separate lives… Well, not entirely separate. He couldn’t stand letting you work for someone else (they could take advantage of you, or try to flirt with you), and he couldn’t handle being too far away from him during the day, so you worked at VoxTek. You had a job where you never interacted with your husband, and it left your days feeling exceptionally lonely. Especially because he claimed that he “didn’t want to overwork you,” which meant he stayed at the office much later than you did and you were left at home. Alone for most of the night, usually falling asleep before he got there, and waking without him because he went in earlier than you. 

You also had weekends off while he worked a good portion of the day, which let you “go out on the town” of course, but it also left you, again, very lonely. He did email you throughout the day, but that was because no one could see those emails. It was “an outdated form of communication” as he called it, which meant no one looked through them. 

Of course, when you did get to see him, you were ecstatic. He went on and on about how much he missed you all week, subtly asking if anyone had bothered you at all. If they did, they very coincidentally disappeared, so you often told him “no” for the sake of your coworkers’ souls.

And of course, after some time, people did start to bother you. They would get promoted, and get the chance to work with your husband directly, while you stayed exactly where you were and didn’t even get a call from him. That led them to teasing, which turned into snide comments and remarks, which became little “accidents” like spilling hot coffee on you or ruining and deleting your work. 

One day, after someone dumped piping hot coffee all over you, and a very expensive blouse your husband bought, you had enough and backhanded her. 

You were an overlord’s wife, and he gave you everything. Even and especially power. That meant the employee was flung across the room while screens burst and crackled around her, and you were dragged up to Vox’s office. 

“What is it now?” Vox asked when your supervisor knocked on his door, ignoring your wincing as you tried to get the scalding hot coffee-stained blouse as far from your skin as possible. 

“Another low-class bitch ruining our image,” was the response that made you laugh, knowing this person would be dead as soon as they opened the door. 

“Ah…” He sighed, but you knew he was smiling. “Come in.” He was probably going through his weaponry, pulling out just the thing to get rid of the “low-class bitch,” but as soon as the door was opened, you were shoved in front of him, and his weapon went off, you weren’t the one to fall limply to the ground. 

The two employees who opened the door quickly dragged the supervisor away and left you alone in the room. 

As soon as they were gone, he discarded his weapon and went to you. “What happened to you?” He wiped under your big eyes as he cupped your cheeks, which were dry, but he could tell you were upset and he was doing his best not to go out and get rid of everyone in your department. 

“I hit someone,” you said, and he found it adorable. There wasn’t much you could do wrong in his eyes. 

Clearly. 

“What’d they do to make that happen? I’ll kill them,” was his quick response before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it.” His eyes drifted down to your blouse, his screen blinking and hands twitching on your face before they went to your blouse and began unbuttoning. He didn't say anything else, electricity zapping between his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons until he cursed and ripped the blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as he muttered, “I’ll get — get — get you a new one,” screen buffering and electricity zapping over his entire body. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You knew not to tell him how much it burned with the way he was reacting already. “Vox—“

“After I take care of you, you're going to point out who did this, and who watched it happen. Understood?” He knew you tried to spare your coworkers from his temper, but he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“It’s happened before—“ A loud whir of electricity sounded as Vox’s screen flashed and blue jolts of electricity burst around him. You shrunk back at the overwhelming power, quickly telling him, “I’m fine–”

“You didn’t tell me?” His voice sounded electric, making you swallow as he removed his overcoat to use as a towel to pat your chest dry. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of you at work, topless, when this was the reason. He watched the way you winced with every touch of his jacket on you, fingers sparking at the redness he could see beneath the coat. His body jolted and the overcoat immediately sparked fire. “Fuck!” He tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to put the fire out. 

“You need to relax,” you told him pointedly. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You’re underreacting,” he said childishly, taking in a deep breath before going to a closet in the large room and grabbing a spare blouse for you and an overcoat for him. At the sight of the many things he had to give to you and spoil you with in there, he calmed only slightly. “Did you at least hit her hard?” He asked as he handed you the blouse. You hummed, nodding and making a very prideful smile come to his face as you buttoned up the blouse. “Do you like this one?” He asked quickly, his evident mood shift into wanting to please you making you chuckle. “It’s not as expensive as the one that cunt ruined,” you hummed along to satiate his ego, “but I thought you’d make it look good.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “I have some more I got for you; do you want to see those instead?”

“I like this one. You picked it.” His screen buffered as he cleared his throat, a pink glow on his cheeks that he quickly got rid of. When you noticed he began to relax, you took the opportunity of being in his office to your advantage, sweetly asking, “Can we have a moment together before you go down and fire half your company?”

“Anything you want, dear,” he said, much more cheerful than he was moments ago. “Do you want anything to eat? Drink? I’ll call something up.” He went to the desk at the end of the room as you went to the seating area and sat on the sofa. “Where should I order from?”

“Vox, you’re at work. You shouldn’t order anything,” you had to remind him of his own rules he set for himself. “They’ll see me here–”

“Are you wearing your ring?” He asked, speaking over you.

“I’m always wearing my ring.”

He nodded, looking down at his matching golden band. “Let them see.” In the moment you gave him to think, he’d come to the more rational conclusion that he wouldn't harm anyone. Just that he’d terrify them to death by making it known that you were not to be touched ever again. “I’ll make sure everyone knows who they decided to fuck with today.”

[torubeth]

aren’t you going to write “degradation taken too far” but with satoru? 🫦😰😭

you asked for it babe; i didn’t wanna hurt yall gojo girlies (inc myself) but you want pain? ok. pain is what you get. warnings : (mature content 18+) smut, degradation, gojo being mean (yes it’s a warning), angst to comfort??and maybe have a tissue box or two????

‘look at the gorgeous mess that you are baby. never knew you’d fold this easy’ he remarks, lips trailing down your body, sucking violet coloured hickeys along the way.

‘satoru- i already told you that the last time, will be the last time! so why are you-!’ slowly but gently he slides in, a wave of contentment washing over you, immediately shutting you up.

‘hmm what was that? mind repeating it f’me sweetheart?’ he smirks.

you decided to stay quiet because what’s the use? you’re gonna end up with him on top you again. mostly tomorrow. and the day after that.

and that’s when you realise that the pace was starting to pick up and his hands were now on your clit, rubbing hard circles eliciting nothing but moans and whines from you.

‘satoru oh my god! shit, feel so good i feel like i’m gonna cum!’ you reach up to slither your arms around his shoulders, your breathy pants now right by ear.

‘toru agh! fuck fuck- i…i love you satoru, i love you so much! please, if you keep this up i might-’ suddenly with a roughness unknown to you, he pulls out.

‘wait wait wait, why’d you stop? i was so close-!’ you pant, leaning up on your elbows.

instantly, there was a shift in his aura.

‘love? you said love? what makes you think i will ever love someone like you? you’re just a hole to fuck. a passing cloud. something for me to do when i’m bored of my fucked up life. nothing more’ he erupts.

‘what?’ your voice was reduced to nothing but a whisper.

‘where in the wide wide vicinity of your fantasy land did you come up with ‘love’ ?’ he spat.

‘i mean seriously, you thought this was something-‘ he knew what he was saying was far from the truth.

why would he not love you? what is there not to love? if he knew what love meant, it’s because of you.

but you shouldn’t love him, but you do. why? why do you wanna be with him? why do you wanna be tied down to someone like him?

meanwhile your mind is racing with a million different thoughts, not knowing what or how to respond.

‘it’s best if you just leave’ he finishes.

you didn’t need to hear the entirety of his speech to know that you were…disposable? replaceable?

the dam breaks and tears stream down your cheeks, eyes red and body trembling. you gather of what’s left of your heart and face him ‘this really is the last time’ you whisper, meaning every word, clutching hard at the sheets for some kind of comfort, without breaking the eye contact.

that’s when his eyes look at you.

your eyes. god, your eyes. they were one of the reasons he fell in love with you. they were fierce, beautiful and always on him. but now they were broken, filled with pain and tears, still beautiful and held nothing but ache.

next was your lips he loved kissing so much. his personal favourite, was always ready to put him in his place and bring him to his knees. now they were trembling. in hate, or fear? he thinks he doesn’t really wanna know the reason behind that.

taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves because there was no going back now. the cat and mouse chase ends here.

suddenly, a huge wave of warmth enveloped you and it took you mere two seconds to realise that he was hugging you, and hardly a second for you to come to the realisation that you would never push him away.

‘i want you to know that you mean so much to me. a while ago my world was nothing but dark, but you came painted it all, giving meaning to each and every little thing in it. i deserve to rot in hell cuz fuck, i didn’t mean a word of what came out of my mouth’ and that’s when you felt little drops on your neck.

never once has he cried in front of you, always going on about how ‘the strongest never cry’

‘you mean the world to me baby. when you told me you loved me, i was brain dead. never knew i was capable of being loved by someone like you. i mean, why would you love someone like me? all my versions are nothing but a wretched mess, so why would you-?’

pulling back to look at him, your eyes are stern when you tell him-

‘you are actually an idiot if you think i care about any of that’ wiping away his tears, your hands rest against his cheeks.

‘i want all your versions satoru. flaws and all. i want them to course through my veins. i want you in all my mornings and all my nights. i want you everywhere. and if you’re going down, i’m willing to go down with you. so please, please don’t push me away’ you said because loving him was as easy as breathing, your eyes once again starting to tear up.

and that was the confirmation he needed, as he leaned down ‘i love you, i love you so much. i fucking love you’ chanting over and over again. pressing kisses everywhere. your nose, lips, cheeks, forehead, everywhere.

‘i adore you and i promise to cherish you like you deserve till we’re old and wrinkly’ he bumps his nose against yours, earning a small laugh from you.

‘i know you will satoru’ you whisper, bumping his nose in return ‘i will love you till we’re old wrinkly too’

[chaesparklez]

1.17am | gunwook x afab reader

wc: 2.3k

content: 18+ MINORS DNI

gendered descriptions, ex!bf gunwook, angst, emotional, oral sex f!receiving, heavy petting, rough sex, makeup sex, unprotected sex (practice safe sex yall)

summary: “just look at this, jagi. we’re so good together.”

1.17am. a surprise visit from the person you want to see least. well, maybe not the least…

a/n: sorry for being mia guys!! hope you enjoy this latest piece, i’m not too familiar with writing angst so hopefully it’s not too clunky haha. cross-posted on ao3 & wattpad on user @/chaesparkle.

it had been a long week of work, your social battery too drained to join your friends for a night out. you splay yourself out on the sofa, absentmindedly watching a show and crocheting. a nearby lamp illuminates the room with an atmospheric golden glow.

you sigh. admittedly, part of the reason why you were so drained was because of your ex, gunwook. his work meant you barely saw him for the past few months, eventually feeling like he wasn't making time for you culminating in your breakup. despite his begging to make things right, you just knew things would never work out. clearly he thought differently, as he had been blowing up your phone all day.

why you hadn't simply blocked him yet, you couldn't quite figure out.

a knock at the door.

you frown looking at the clock: 1.17am. who on earth could it be at this hour? you throw a cardigan on and amble towards the door.

"who is it?" you call lazily.

no response. you furrow your brows, pausing for a second before another knock resonates through the room. and you realise. two firm raps followed by another quick tap; you know exactly who was knocking. the blood rushes to your head, face already heating up in anger. you were already having a rough week and now having your space invaded by the last person you wanted to see made you angry.

“what the fuck, gunwook?” you swing the door open. 'texting me hundreds of times wasn't enough so now you show up to my doorstep?'

gunwook stands before you, expression indecipherable. he simply scans you up and down with a dark gaze.

you shake your head in frustration. 'so??'

he slinks past you without a word, making his way into the living room with you following him becoming increasingly mad.

"oh, so you're just gonna waltz into my house then play the silent act? i don't even know why you’re h-"

"because i fucking missed you!!" he shouts, turning towards you finally. his cheeks redden like they always do when he gets emotional, dark eyes blazing.

'you break up with me all of a sudden then expect me to be okay with it?' he continues. he inches closer, towering over you.

you stare up at him, gaze cold and hard.

"it's hilarious" you say, keeping your voice level,  'how you didn't contact me for weeks at a time while we were together and now that im not putting up with your shit anymore you come crawling back.'

"i told you that i'd do better. we can make it work, i'm serious." his tone low.

"why do you keep deluding yourself into thinking you can fix this? you'll literally be touring for the next two months. forget seeing me, you won't even have time to call me."

you feel a lump form in your throat, quickly turning away so he wouldn't see your eyes moisten.

"why don't you have any trust in me?" he says exasperated. he grabs your wrist forcing you to face him.

'please. give me a chance,' he whispers, gaze intently fixed on you.

all this was too overwhelming for you. your exhaustion, him being in your space asking questions you couldn't answer, and in the middle of it all, you being very aware of his closeness to you in this moment, face so close to yours you were tempted to brush the hair out of his eyes...

shut the fuck up, you tell yourself off mentally. you look at gunwook, determined to drive him out.

"why the hell should i trust you?" you say. 'all the missed calls, cancelled dates, all you did was take me for granted.'

"that's not true", his jaw clenching.

"it's how you made me feel."

"you have no idea how *i* feel. i-"

"i do. you're a selfish jerk. you don't give a fuck about me, you don't-"

"LET ME SPEAK!" gunwook yells, voice making a boom that resonates throughout the room. you jump, shocked at the outburst. gunwook looks at you intensely, eyes blazing with passion.

'i missed you everyday. it was hard for me too, spending so much time apart from you and not even being able to contact you because the managers were always watching.'

he takes a step closer.

'i was going to see you first as soon as i came back to korea. but then you texted me all of a sudden saying 'it's over' and then disappeared?? you have no idea how much that broke me.' his voice breaks on the last sentence.

you look up at him sadly, clenching your jaw and trying to control your impulse to hug him. you couldn't. not now. you didn't want to start something you couldn't finish.

"i think you should leave," you say quietly.

gunwook stays standing in the same spot clearly having no intentions to abide by your words. he inches closer to you, eyes shining.

"stop. gunwook, i said don't come closer," you warn as he takes slow steps towards you.

the look in his eyes made you nervous. it was the way he'd look at you before you'd leave a party together, giving your thigh a quick squeeze with you both knowing exactly what the night was in for.

'gunwook, seriously...' you breathe, your breath quickening. he continues to approach you silently with that intent look in his eyes, staring down at you fervently.

'really i don't think we should-' you begin to say before a long finger rests on your lips shushing you.

"quiet." he says in a lowered voice.

his hand rests on the wall beside you, his face inches from yours. he cocks his head to the side with a smile. your pupils waver as you look up at him.

"got anything else to say?" gunwook whispers, pinning you against the wall. he smirks.

a hand roams down to the waistband of your shorts, cool fingers meeting the heat of your center. you can't help but let out a shaky sigh, having forgotten what this felt like in the time you spent apart.

you stare at him fervently. tall, broad shoulders, and those determined eyes that'd observe every detail of the way your body responded to him.

and the expression on your face is more than enough to let gunwook know how you feel. you want him. all of him.

you both melt into a mess in each other's arms. your hands locked behind his neck, his enveloping your waist as you share a rough, sloppy kiss. as if you're both trying to consume eachother, as if you're making up for lost time.

his full lips lock around yours, the heat of your tongues melding as you both kiss passionately, not even moving in time as your mutual desperation drives you to take in as much of each other as you can.

you pull him closer by the collar and run your hands through his thick black hair. you bite gently on his full bottom lip and he kisses you harder, tongue exploring your mouth tasting you.

a trail of hurriedly removed clothes is splayed on the floor behind you as you lay under him on the sofa. with his body on top of you, the heat of his milky skin against yours has a flush rising in your center. you drag a hand from his broad chest down to his toned abs, and he gazes at you beneath him with all the yearning in the world behind those brown eyes. he leaves warm kisses trailing down your body, the tingle of his breath on your flesh sending a shiver down your spine so you arch into his touch. he looks down at you with an intoxicating gaze, a large hand enveloping the curve of your waist, and kisses your stomach.

"i missed this so badly," he says in a lowered voice.

he positions your legs to rest on his shoulders and begins to plant open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. you gasp, the muscles in your thighs contracting. his tongue makes contact with your throbbing pussy, lewdly licking a stripe up your slit. your eyes flutter shut as he begins to work his magic on your center, the movements of his tongue slow and sensual at first, then increasing in speed as your hips began to undulate against his mouth, your body begging for more.

his tongue runs up and down your folds, your thighs trembling but remaining firmly locked in place by his firm grip. he laps up your arousal like a dog thirsty for water, the view of your breasts jolting as you reacted to his touch further motivating him to deepen his movements.

you moan desperately and throw your head back. his grip on your flesh tightens and he moans against your clit, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. you peer down at him and feel your center flutter at the view; his muscled arms flexing wrapped around your thighs, face buried in your pussy letting out impassioned moans.

you lace a hand through his thick hair, tugging gently and moaning as he continues stimulating your clit. you make eye contact, a faint blush seeping across your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze. he picks up the pace and you let out a yelp. the relentless flicks of his tongue against your clit having your hips rolling against his tongue more and more deeply.

fuck, you really did miss him.

you plead in a shaky voice: "gunwook.. need you inside me..." and he retracts slowly from your center, almost reluctantly as he breaks out of his daze.

"oh yeah?" he asks with a sly smirk. 'guess you missed this a lot, huh?' he begins to kiss your neck lazily, his hand roaming your body again.

"s-so full of yourself.." you stutter, unable to deliver this remark as bitingly as you intend as he pinches your nipple lightly.

"don't i have a right to be?" he smiles. continuing to caress you. 'after all..' he whispers, 'isn't this what you missed the most after i came back from overseas schedules?'

his long fingers are now between your legs, rubbing along the length of your center and drawing circles around your clit. you let out a moan, stomach contracting in pleasure as your hips rise to ask for more again. gunwook really did know you inside and out. exactly how to touch you so you'd be gasping and arching into him.

he aligns his erect cock with your pussy, tip red and leaking a bead of precum. as he pushes his length inside you, you throw your head back and gasp for air at the feeling of him filling you up. his massive length still had you gasping for air even though you'd had sex countless times already. he lets out a deep moan at the way your pussy wraps around his cock and begins to move his hips, thrusting deeper inside you.

you lock your fingers around his neck so you're inches apart from eachothers faces, both hearing eachothers breathy sighs of exhilaration. his weight on top of you makes you feel engulfed in him.

gunwook's cheeks are flushed, his eyes slanted and locked on yours as you moan and whimper looking into his eyes with each thrust. he adjusts his hips so his cock starts to hit that spot deep inside you with every thrust, prompting a loud "fuck!" from you.

your pussy clenches around his length deliciously, and he can't help but squeeze his eyes shut and moan into your neck.

"fuck, jagi... feels like this pussy was made for me," he breathes.

"don't.. call me jagi.." you protest weakly between thrusts, not sure you even believe your own words at this point.

he lets out a breathy laugh and his pace quickens.

"or what?" he challenges, his voice low and husky in your ear.

his thrusts become faster and harder so you scream out in ecstasy, his strong thrusts having you moaning and gasping for air.

"ah, j-just like that.. fuck!" you cry between moans.

gunwook starts to rub circles on your clit again sending another wave of pleasure crashing over you, the overstimulation making your head spin. your hands claw helplessly at his broad back leaving red scratches in their wake. your eyes begin to water and you look at him through half-lidded eyes, his gaze meeting yours with the same emotions. his bangs are damp from perspiration, hair falling into his narrowed eyes.

"gunwook- i- please-" you stutter out before screwing your eyes shut, your jaw open in a fixed contortion of pleasure.

"what was that, jagi? can't hear you." he chuckles with a raspy voice.

the view of you overstimulated and teary eyed, literally fucked dumb, drives gunwook crazy. he lets out a raspy sigh as he watches his length moving in and out of you. your pussy is dripping wet, the sound of skin slapping against skin so raw and visceral that you both start to cum. your hips begin to rut against his, your movements and impassioned breaths syncing with eachother in time. he moans, forehead against yours.

you gaze blearily and kiss him passionately. your climax begins to run through you and you moan between his lips, your cries becoming louder as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"ah, gunwook!" you throw your head back and cry out at the feeling of his cock pushing inside you as your walls contract around him, practically having you seeing stars.

gunwook lets out a constrained grunt as he reaches his climax, biceps flexing as he grips the arm of the sofa. with a final impassioned thrust he pulls out just as he cums, hot sticky fluid coating your stomach. he sinks on top of you as you both catch your breath, a mess of slick and perspiration. your arms are wrapped around his back as he sinks his head into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin.

he gazes at you laying before him staring up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"just look at this, jagi. we're so good together." he breathes.

you regard him with half-lidded eyes, chest rising and falling against his.

"should we… start over?" you whisper.

[pullupinarari]

Hold you tight to me [LH]

author’s note: this is part two of 'love you 'til I don't' based off this and this thoughts sent by my lovely 🌕 anon! Thank you so much for showing me a piece of your mind and for allowing me to write this based on your thoughts 🩷 hope yall enjoy this!! Mwah

• masterlist

wc: 6913 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

Waking up to a cold, empty bed, is something that none of Lewis’ trophies can change. No matter how hard he tries to pretend like he is content with his decision, putting on a façade for everyone else around him, he can’t lie to himself.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you. And every memory of moments that he spent by your side, every detail of your skin, your personality, your being, makes him miss you more and more. 

The room that you two once shared is now half empty, everything that belonged to you is now gone. You left, and took everything with you - including Lewis’ heart in your hands, leaving an incessant feeling of emptiness in his chest, a void that only you can fulfill. 

Every night, he spends infinite hours awake, the weight of his decisions feeling like he is carrying the world in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. And every morning, he stares at the ceiling, feeling like a blank page himself, wishing that he could go back and erase the dumbest choice that he has ever made. 

You were the one he would always run to whenever things would get hard, but without you by his side, he doesn’t know how to get through his most difficult days. A night of missing you turned into a thousand days of loneliness surrounding his heart, burying his happiness, his light, with your leaving. 

This is all his fault, of course it is - he is the one who told you that he needed to be alone to focus on his career, only to end up wishing he could return all his prizes and trophies if it meant that he could have you back. 

He spent his entire life searching for someone like you, and when he finally got it, he decided to let you go - after sharing his deepest secrets with you, after sharing his entire life with the only person that made him feel complete. 

The thing is, you never wanted to leave, you never wanted to let him go. And if Lewis isn’t doing well after causing all this, you can’t even begin to explain how this entire situation broke you entirely, even to the deepest, most intimate corners of your insides. 

Nothing is left of the person that you once were. You became so unrecognizable to everyone around you but especially to yourself, that the embarrassment of assuming the destruction that characterizes you now, made you leave everything, and everyone behind. 

You disappeared, leaving a trail of ashes behind - the sparkle of the old you, the bubbly, happy girl with the brightest, most honest smile that Lewis had ever seen in his entire life. And it’s been so long, now. Lewis has lost track of time, every night waiting to hear from you, hoping he could finally get a reply to all the messages that he still sends you from time to time - begging you to pick up his calls, pleading for you to listen to what he has to say. But silence is the only reply he gets in return, crushing his entire soul into pieces. 

But he never gave up. Not even after saving your favorite spot at Silverstone, only for his gesture to end up being ignored by you, not daring to show up at his race. 

No matter how much he cries, nothing is going to make you feel better about the way he made your entire world collapse - through a cowardly text. All the sleepless nights, the crying that never let up, stealing all your will to live, leading to never ending days that you wasted by rotting in bed, hiding in the darkness of the closed curtains of your bedroom, so the world wouldn’t hear your weeping. 

But Lewis is a believer. And he needs to find you again, he needs to look into your eyes one more time, he needs to let you know that he still feels the same way towards you that he has felt since the first day he asked you to be his girlfriend. He still has that sparkle in his eyes every time he scrolls through his camera roll, analyzing each detail in your pictures, adoring how you still feel so present, so alive inside of him - it almost feels like you aren’t out of his life, after all. 

But you are. And Lewis tries everything: he goes to your old house, to find out that a new family is living there now. He tries your parents’ house, only to be met with the bitterness of showing up in front of them, being the reason why you decided to leave the city. He even tried to talk to your best friend, and he knows that your closest ones will never welcome him again, giving his body to the bullets of everything he caused - realizing that his decision didn’t just affect you and him, but it did change something in the lives of everyone else around you. 

Knowing that you moved out of town, removing him from all your social media as you did so, Lewis felt like he had no choice but to hire a private detective - trying his best to locate you, desperation hitting the british man to the point of putting every effort and every penny into trying to find you. 

He makes sure to keep this just for himself, though, feeling like nobody understands him. Everybody keeps telling him to let you go, to forget about you, but how can he ignore such a strong and demolishing feeling of love that pools inside of him, igniting all his senses every time that he thinks about you? 

Deep down, Lewis knows what it looks like: him, standing still in the same place, while you move on with your life. But he is not a quitter, he is used to dreaming the impossible. And the more people tell him that he won’t find you, the more he believes that you will show up at the right time. 

Every single night, he prays that he will be able to see you again, hoping that you are able to let him speak once you’re face to face again. And during the dawn, he always dreams about you: his mind playing tricks on him, reminding him of your sweet scent, the way the smell of your shampoo could be noticed around the house, how your touch always felt so warm against his cold body whenever he needed you the most - creating a cinematic piece of the happiest moments, the most divine details that he was lucky enough to live by your side, only for him to wake up to disappointment, noticing how he is still sleeping by himself. 

After some months of searching, the detective calls Lewis to give him the news: he found out where you live now. Leaving London behind, you are now trying to find yourself in the quietness of the countryside after having moved to Scotland, away from the big city and everyone who knows you.

As soon as Lewis got the call, he immediately cleared his schedule, preparing everything to go to Scotland. He can’t waste any more time, he can’t lose the opportunity to finally see you again, after nearly two years passing since the day he sent you that stupid text.

The next morning, the man drives to the village that the detective told him about. Lewis decides to park the car near a small coffee shop - a place that you go to every morning, according to the information that he received. He patiently waits inside of the vehicle, hoping he can have a glimpse of you, even from afar. 

Truth be told, he is scared, absolutely terrified of your reaction once you see him. And he doesn’t even know what he is supposed to do once the sight of you breaks in front of his eyes - but the sudden glimpse of a girl that looks just like you, makes him blink his eyes harder, trying to make sure that his vision is working correctly. 

He leans further into his car seat, trying to hide himself while his eyes never leave the figure walking in front of him. The girl looks just like you - damn, it really is you. Why is his brain trying to play it like it’s someone else?

Maybe it’s because you look absolutely unrecognizable. It’s visible that you lost weight, and not in a healthy way, and he almost can’t identify you through the dark, long clothes that you are wearing. You used to be a girl full of life, with a big personality, you used to wear bright colors in your outfits to express yourself. And now, you are dressed in all black, wearing a turtleneck, a long coat, hiding every inch of skin Lewis was once lucky enough to travel his hands through. 

If you still use your clothes to express your personality, you’re now manifesting the mourning of the person that you used to be, embracing the darkness that lives inside of you now, that has taken over your body. You hide yourself from the majority of looks, trying your best not to attract much attention to you, wanting to keep the lowest of profiles. And that’s why you like it here. Nobody knows you besides the lovely lady working at the shop, already knowing how you order your coffee and what your favorite thing to eat for breakfast is.

You are just trying to find a new sense of comfort, creating a new space that you wish you will be able to call ‘home’, one day. Though you would be lying if you said you didn’t recognize that, most of the time, you don’t really know what you’re doing here. 

Lewis’ mouth is slightly agape at the sight of you, trying to breathe through the clenching that he feels in his chest. Watching with his own eyes, the trail of destruction that his stupid decisions left behind, is enough to make him feel sick to his stomach, with some tears swelling in his eyes already. 

He decides to stay in the car, watching you leave the coffee shop, slowly walking back home as he rethinks everything that he has ever done in his life. Never, in a million years, would he expect to see you look like this, with such a tired, pale, lifeless facial expression. 

Guilt hammers in his veins, slamming reality into the front of his head, comparing the girl that he used to date to the woman that he just saw - unable to forgive himself for the irreparable damages that he caused you, all because of his ego. 

He spends the entire day thinking, questioning if he should really do this. He wants to, he desperately wants to talk to you, to hear your sweet voice, to look into your eyes. He needs to see for himself if you still hold any love for him now - because he swears to God that, as soon as he sees just a small glimpse of hope in you, he will do everything in his power to have you back, to make up for the biggest mistake of his life.

At the same time, he is so afraid of your reaction to him showing up in front of you. The infinite possibilities and scenarios running through his mind are enough to make his body tremble slightly, his hands feeling sweaty as his heart races in his chest. 

It’s a shot in the dark. But, at dinner time, he sees you walking into the diner once again, and he gathers the courage in himself to leave his car. Taking deep breaths while slowly walking to the entrance, he can already see you, sitting at a table at the back of the place, thanks to the big windows that adorn the walls. 

He nips at the skin of his lips absently, a way to try and calm down the anxiety building up inside of him. Your eyes are focused on the menu that your hands are holding, reading each line of it attentively, and it’s noticeable how you really aren’t expecting a soul to bother you. The way you look like you are in your own little world, your mind elsewhere while you decide what to eat, the distraction emanating from your eyes, mirroring only the words on the menu. 

Lewis stands still at the door, taking a second to take in your presence, the fact that you are only a few steps away from him. His feet walk by themselves, being completely attracted and magnetized to you - in the exact same way it happened on your first date. Some things just never change.

- Can I? - a too familiar voice startles you. For a second, you stare at the paper in front of you, feeling frozen in place, unable to look up. But, after taking a deep breath, your eyes decide to meet him.

There he is, the reason why you moved out of your city, why you left your family and friends behind. The reason why you aren’t you anymore, the reason why your entire life changed - for the better at first, but for the worst in the long term. 

When your eyes meet, it’s like a million bullets hitting you in your core, bringing back all the memories - the good ones, the bad ones, the passion and the pain that you feel inside of you. 

You stay silent, not having the nerve to answer his question, but seeing how he decides to sit in front of you anyway. There’s a moment of silence between your bodies, while both of you analyze the other’s features. There’s a strange sensation in the air, feeling like you two are strangers all over again - realizing that he is a stranger that you know every single detail of. 

You’re amazed by how Lewis looks the exact same as he did the last time you saw him. Same soft chocolate eyes, the usual kind smile playing on his lips. The same aura of a man that will break your heart, glue all your pieces back together, only to repeat the cycle over and over again, as many times as he wishes. 

When you look at him, you can feel the bitterness in your mouth, due to all the anger that you drank effortlessly, as if it was water. But, at the same time, you can’t deny that he holds a part of yourself in him, a part of a past that you can only see when you look into his eyes - it seems like passion and pain really do taste the same when you’re weak and heartbroken. 

On the other side, Lewis looks at you and he feels his heart shrinking. Your sad features alarm him, letting him know once again, that he is the cause of all this. Since the first second that you passed by his car, he wanted nothing more than to have you back, to hold you tight to his chest, to wrap his arms safely around your frame, never letting you go again.

Lewis came all the way here with a mission, to make things right. And the more he looks into your empty, devastated eyes, the more he wants to save you from everything, to protect you. From the world surrounding you, from all the bad, even from your self, the side of you that he doesn’t recognize anymore. He just wants to fix everything that destroyed you. 

- What are you doing here? - he finally hears your voice, quiet and hoarse, sounding cold when addressing him and his presence. 

Lewis already knew that he would get that kind of tone from you, and he doesn’t blame you. He is here now, in person, to deal with the consequences of his actions - to hear every awful word, the anger that has bottled up inside of you for the past two years. 

So, he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes as he starts speaking.

- It took me some months to realize how badly I fucked up, that’s true. But ever since the moment that I came to my senses, I never stopped trying to get to you, and you know that’s true. I keep clogging your phone with calls and texts, and I know it’s your right not to reply to any of those, but fuck, Y/N… You genuinely have no idea of how badly I am regretting every single stupid shit that I’ve done to you. And I just want you to listen to me, I want to make everything as right as I possibly can. - he admits, resting his hands on the table, so he can open his frame to you, a silent way for his body to say that it’s still welcoming yours.  - You’re soaring again, now. I can’t clip your wings with my return, Lewis. That’s why you got rid of me, remember? Because you wanted to focus on your career… I remember it all too well, unfortunately. - your tired voice informs, the sharpness of your words hitting the man in front of you right in the heart, piercing through it like a thousand stabs. 

He goes silent, feeling so weak, so bare after being hit by your harsh words, that he felt like he could turn into a puddle of tears in the middle of this coffee shop. He knows that he hurt you in a way that he could never really understand. And he could never understand how badly it killed you to let go of his hand, after he left you to fall into the abyss of being left with only sorrow, loneliness and a heartbreak to cure. 

But the thing that kills you the most, is the way you couldn’t stop feeling the weight of being a burden to him, burning you to the point of your ashes burying themselves amongst his high waves of wins. 

It’s not because you don’t cry anymore, that you don’t feel it. Like they say, the older you get, the less you cry, right? After wasting all your tears on him, you feel like you’re going through a drought, which makes you bottle your feelings up even more. 

Either way, you just want him to succeed. If he chose to leave you for his collection of trophies, at least you hope it is worth it, so the enchanting glow of his awards can bring some light into his newfound routine. 

Lewis gets up from his seat without another word, leaving you alone at the table, walking out of the diner now. It’s not surprising to you that he would quit again, giving up on you whenever things would get hard. No matter how bad it might sting to watch him turn his back on you again, after coming all the way here just to see you, it’s probably for the best. 

The waitress brings your food, and as you start eating, you see Lewis walking inside the coffee shop again, this time whilst holding a leash in his hand. The sound of four paws clinking on the marble floor catches your attention, and you move to see the dog that was once your therapist, your company, your best friend: Roscoe. 

You have to hold yourself from squeaking at the sight of your beloved dog, missing him like crazy after years without seeing him, but you don’t want to give in. Either way, Roscoe knows who you are, sitting at your feet while curiously looking up at you, turning his head to the side slowly, begging for your attention. 

Your fingers carefully pet the dog’s head, scratching his ears the way you remember that he loves it so much, a small smile appearing on your face for the first time today, as you feel him lying at your feet now. 

Lewis smiles fondly at your interaction, noticing how you try to hold your smile when looking back at him. 

- We are here to stay. For as long as it’s needed, until you decide to give me an opportunity and actually listen to me. - your ex-boyfriend says with a grin on his face, patting Roscoe’s bum with a giggle. 

You raise an eyebrow at his words.

- Don’t you have work to attend to? A crazy schedule to keep up with? - you try to shrug off what he said, unconsciously trying to find excuses to make him leave now. 

He shakes his head at your questions.

- Cleared my entire schedule for the foreseeable future. I actually needed a break, and this place looks calm, peaceful, beautiful, surrounded by nature. Just what I like. 

The cheeky grin showing on his face now makes you use all your power to prevent a chuckle from erupting from your lips, now. And he clearly knows the effect that he still has on you. 

Lewis knows that he won’t get you back that easily, after causing you so much harm. If he wants to have you back in his arms, if he wants you to trust him again like you used to, he is going to have to really earn his way back into your life.

Every night, Lewis would dedicate his time to think even more about you, thinking of ways to win your heart back. He wrote you a letter, of all the things that he never said to you. The piece of paper is safely kept in his pocket, thinking about giving it to you anytime, but the fear of it being considered ‘cringe’, or simply not good enough for you, makes him keep it to himself. 

And every morning, he parks his car in front of the coffee shop, with Roscoe quietly following behind him as he picks a table to sit, patiently waiting for the time you show up to have breakfast. 

Every single morning, at the same time, there he is: sitting at the back, a gentle smile on his face as he gestures for you to sit with him. You feel divided between all the resentment lingering on your heart, and the way his presence makes you feel lighter, like he is pulling you back from the abyss that you had fallen into. But having his company for a couple of hours makes you feel better than the two years that you had spent alone, with barely anyone to talk to. 

It slowly becomes a type of tradition: Every morning, Lewis shows up, and even if you don’t feel like talking to him, he is still there - to keep you company, staying silent while admiring your features, while you pet Roscoe some more.

Your feet move on their own already, meeting him and the dog at the usual table, and most of the time, you don’t even have to say anything. Lewis had already ordered your usual breakfast, always asking for your favorite dishes that he could never forget.

In between the hours surrounded by silence, filled with shy looks, small touches, discreet blushes and trapped laughter, there are some moments when you two actually speak. And during one of those moments, he spoke to you about the letter, letting you know that there is an actual letter that he wrote you. 

The way your eyebrows arch lets him know that you are surprised by his revelation, eager to read it.

- You know that I’ve never been good with words. It’s kept somewhere safe, away from Roscoe’s mouth, but I am too embarrassed to hand it to you like that. It’s not good enough for you. - the man admits, feeling much smaller after these words leave his mouth.  - It’s like you don’t even know me. - you say, hinting that you could never find it ‘not good enough’. You are a simple person, used to seeing the beauty in the small things. But you look so different now, that Lewis is actually scared of not knowing you anymore, trying his best to study you again.

He listens to the playlists you used to put together for him at night, inspiring himself with the melodies that you would always rather listen to, remembering how your body would dance to the different rhythms. 

Putting all his ideas to work, Lewis ends up writing a song about you, pouring all his feelings for you into the melody. He knows he can’t just win you back while spending hours in silence, staring at you with hearts splattered all over his eyes inside a coffee shop. He knows by heart how tricky your brain can get, and doesn’t want you to spend every day inventing things in the middle of the silence that surrounds you two. 

You would often tell him that, if both of you knew what the other was thinking about, you would argue less and less. So he gains the courage to send you the audio clip of some of the verses that he wrote about his muse, wearing his heart on his sleeve as honesty washes over him with every lyric, letting you know everything that hangs over his mind. 

The sound of a new message on your phone catches your attention, and once you see that Lewis has sent you a voice note, you immediately press play, curious to find out what it is. The way his angelic voice sounds like honey, matching the way your heart slowly melts at the way he confesses his love for you over one of your favorite melodies ever, it’s enough to put tears in your eyes - feeling the stinging feeling of the salty liquid that you haven’t felt in so long, now. 

Once the audio ends, you are at a loss for words, genuinely not knowing what to say. To realize that Lewis is trying so hard to mend your broken heart, that he just did one of the most beautiful and special things that someone has ever done for you - it makes a familiar warmth spread across your chest. A familiar one, but one that you haven’t felt in so long.

Sometimes, things break so badly that they can’t be repaired. And when your relationship with him reached its end, you broke every single part of yourself - so much, so hard, that it reached a peak when you didn’t even know which part of yourself to fix, how to do it, or even if you could do it, believing that you couldn’t be repaired anymore.

Those thoughts still linger in your brain and yet again, the insecurities that still pool over you are bigger than anything else, so you decide not to reply to his message, only reacting to it with a heart. Little did you know that your reaction, the tiny red heart showing on his screen is enough to send Lewis into a blushing spiral, feeling like he is finally doing something right on the path to your heart. 

- I can’t stop apologizing for everything that I’ve put you through, but I honestly would give up every single thing that I’ve won so far, just to be lucky enough to look at your cute facial expressions every single day of my life again, until the day I die. - he tells you once again, letting you know how sorry he is every single day, either while you’re having breakfast together, or through a heartfelt text that reaches your phone by the end of the day.   - This is not just about saying sorry and writing me love songs, Lewis. I don’t think you have any idea of how things would have to change for me to even think about coming back to you. You would definitely have to stop putting your career first all the time. I grew tired of being traded for dumb trophies, like I meant nothing. - the cold tone is back, remembering how you used to feel every night when he would text you all about how he got stuck in a work meeting, again. Only for you to go to sleep alone, again, after spending the entire day without landing your eyes on him. 

Lewis nods, agreeing with you one hundred percent. You can’t see his focused facial expression, directing your attention to Roscoe, petting the bestest boy you know, leaving kisses on his wrinkled forehead while talking to the dog with a baby voice - trying to distract yourself from the anger creeping through you again, as your ex keeps adding salt to your wounds.

The chuckle coming from his mouth makes you look back at him again with narrowed eyes. 

- You’re right, absolutely right. And that’s something that I have been doing lately already. I just cleared my entire schedule with no date to come back, I already had set a time limit for my meetings before coming here, trying my best to not stay out, drowned in work until late in the night ever again. 

As he explains all this to you, you look deeply into his eyes, reading into the glimpses of honesty and hope that linger in him.

- Losing you really changed me, Y/N. And that’s what I’ve been trying to show you. There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought about you. Every single thing reminds me of you, I keep every detail so close to me, feeling like it’s the only way I have to not let you go for good. Because I can’t do it, I don’t want to do it. - his voice trembles slightly.

Reaching for the pocket of his jacket, Lewis takes out a napkin, neatly wrapped so as to not ruin it. Unfolding it slowly, he shows you an old drawing that you did in the first months of your relationship. You remember that day so well: you and Lewis had gone to the beach, and were having lunch at a restaurant by the sea. While you patiently waited for the waiter to bring you your desserts, you grabbed a pen and quickly drew a cute, simple drawing of you, Lewis and Roscoe. The small sketch made with stick figures was basic, but so lovely in Lewis’ eyes. 

He kept the napkin, finding it way too cute to let it go to the trash like a useless piece of paper. These were the things that made him fall in love with you every single day. And ever since you left his life, he has religiously been carrying the paper everywhere with him - a small way to feel like you are still with him. 

- I can’t, for the life of me, forget about the love of my life. The reason why I became the man that I am today, the person who changed my entire life. - Lewis confesses one more time, and for the first time in years, your fingers touch slightly, as you reach to grab the napkin from his hands.

The small, innocent touch makes a sparkle light up in both of your bodies, and you can tell by the way you looked at each other right after it happened. You both felt it, some things really can’t be forgotten, and you can’t fake the way this made you feel. 

They say that the passion in the beginning is always going to be the best part of it, but rediscovering an old feeling, as powerful as the connection that binds you together, it’s like running to a blank page of a book, ready to write a new poem on it. 

And maybe, it’s not too late to keep the light surrounding your souls inside of your bodies for once, tying it up with all the time in the world that stops just for yourselves - in a way that you can slowly hear the rising of the birds every morning, before the sun rises.

Gathering some bravery in your veins, your hand slowly reaches for his fingers again, caressing them gently, as if you're afraid of his reaction. But looking him in the eyes, the intensity with which they shine calms down your racing heart.

There’s a relieved smile on his face, bringing out his most emotional side as he finally feels your caring touch again - the thing he has missed the most. The anxiety running through your body makes you retrieve your hand from his, keeping it to yourself. Lewis doesn’t take it personally, he understands that you need your space, your time, and he is willing to give it to you, if it means that he can slowly get his girl back. And that day, he goes back to his room with a feeling of regained hope, with a lighter heart beating safely in his chest.

You are fighting yourself at this point, the angel and the devil arguing in your brain as you try not to give into your emotions. Lewis is the reason why you hit rock bottom, after all. Why should you fall for his trap again? You can’t act stupid in times like these, he is just out to get you, only to break your heart again. 

Nevertheless, Lewis is your heart beating out of your chest. He is the personification of love, for you. He is the lap that holds you, the hands that caress your body and soul, the one who would steal the entire moon just to give it to you. He is your home, the reminiscing ashes of the old you - that you so desperately miss. Every street screams his name, and you wander around them in hope that you can find him in every corner. And now, he is so close to you and yet, you feel so far. 

A new morning rises, snow is filling the floor and makes it hard for everyone to walk, but still, you reach the coffee shop. Once you walk inside, you notice a cute old couple sitting at the table next to yours. 

Lewis is talking to Roscoe, and you almost can’t hear him as you find yourself entranced by the adorable couple. Both around their 80’s, you would say, gently holding hands and smiling at each other as they share a cup of hot chocolate with some whipped cream on top of it. 

You can’t help but smile every time you hear the older ones laughing, whenever one of them would end up with a small mustache made of cream. The sight truly is heartwarming, and it does make you think: this is the type of future that you always dreamed of having with Lewis by your side - the type to grow old with, forever in love with each other as you would still hold each other, make fun of each other, being comfortable to spent the entire life being yourselves next to each other. 

Looking back at him, the man in front of you is giggling nonstop, the sound blooming in your insides as it enters your ears, making a bigger smile show on your features. 

- Love, look! - he points to the window. 

Outside of the coffee shop it’s a baby bulldog, safely wrapped in a warm coat as it tries to walk on the ice with its human, sliding every now and then due to the slippery snow. 

- Doesn’t it look like Roscoe, when he was little? He looked just like that when we first got him. - Lewis reminds you, his toothy smile and giggles making butterflies erupt from your body, setting them free as you smile back at him, nodding at his words. 

This morning, you will probably ask him not to leave. You have the entire future right in front of you, and the will to live again - without being scared, forgetting all your fears, like you used to do before, stronger than any bruise that could have been left behind, while trying to follow your path to happiness. 

Getting up from your seat, you move to sit next to Lewis, and his arm instinctively wraps around your frame when you get closer to him. After a mere second of sharing love promises with your eyes, you finally attach your lips together, in a longing kiss - one that lets the other know how badly it has been missed. 

Lewis’ hand gently cups your cheek, deepening the kiss to savor your sweet flavor after years of dreaming about it. The warmth of his lips make your insides tingle, wishing you could live forever in the familiar feeling of his kisses - the only ones that feel right, with the only one that’s meant to be.

Neither of you want to break the kiss, dreading the idea of letting go of each other again, afraid that the other might run away if you do. However, the sweet sound of giggles coming from the side steals your and Lewis’ attention. There’s a smile shared by everyone as the old couple next to you beams at your show of affection, lovingly.

Turning your attention back to the man whose arms are safely keeping you near, he leaves a sweet kiss on your neck as you blush. 

- “Take me home, please.” - you whisper to him, your noses gently touching as you lock eyes with each other. 

He is your home, and you can feel it anywhere you go, as long as he is by your side. And Lewis knows that you don’t mean it literally, but figuratively instead - referring to the old you, begging him to help you bring the colorful, bubbly girl back, as you can already feel some new flowers starting to appear in the darkest corners of your soul, just by feeling his sweet, protective touch on you. 

The man hums sweetly. 

- I quite like it here. Calm, not too crowded, peaceful, surrounded by nature. I’m going through an indefinite break after all. - he winks at you, pecking your lips once more, promising his entire devotion to you, preferring to die than lose you again. - Yeah. - you look out of the window. - I like it here too. And it feels so much better with you here. - a soft blush creeps on your cheeks as you confess the way you feel about him. - Good. - he kisses your lips again. - Because I don’t plan on going anywhere without you. 

Roscoe starts jumping on you, asking for attention, reminding you that he is included in the plans, as well. 

- We aren’t going anywhere, of course. - Lewis laughs, taking the famous napkin from his pocket again, holding it in front of your faces. - My family is reunited again, not a single piece is missing anymore. 

You two share a passionate gaze, the sparkle in your eyes and the electricity running through your bodies totally speaking for yourselves, sealing the promise of a forever type of love with another breathtaking kiss, knowing for sure that this feeling will never end. 

(...) I know that it’s been a while since I’ve lost you, and consequently, you have lost yourself as well. I know that you probably don’t know what you’re doing here, questioning what life is doing with your body and soul, feeling helpless right now. But, my love, the only thing I want is to hold you, to kiss your face, every single detail of your features, your hands, your forehead. Even if the entire world collapses around us, our love will forever prevail in the memories of a secluded feeling, immortalized by the way I will always hold you after you fall. I will let you cry on the seat of my car for as long as you need to, while we walk around the immense streets of every city, of every country in this world - only for each apartment, each monument to teach us that home is not a set of four walls. Home is a person, and we both fit inside of it, because the infinitude of our love, safely contemplated inside our souls, is bigger than any mansion or penthouse. Luxury is being able to love you, to explore each centimeter of your body with my fingers, and getting to know every detail of your gorgeous being, realizing the division between feeling blessed and feeling frightened at the same time, every time your eyes land on me, looking into me. Your way still scares me, I know that wanting to have the world, but feeling like you never have a safe ground to step on still hurts you and I know it still haunts you. Every time I close my eyes, I can see you running with no direction, running away from your feelings. But I want to embrace them, to quiet them down, to replace them with happier ones, giving you everything you deserve. Give me a chance to build a roof over your heart, so it can stop raining so heavily on your devastated soul. Let me add some windows to it, so the sun can irradiate through you again. Let me hold you and dry you from all the storms chasing you. You’ll leave your wet wellies at the door, walking inside the warmth of my fireplace, where we’ll burn as one. Cause you are, and will always be, my home (...) - Lewis once wrote, in a letter destined to the love of his life, oblivious to the fact that she would find the paper hidden in between his clothes on a random day, making her heart swell with the tranquility of having made the right choice. Both of you really fit inside your platonic house when you’re by the side of the right person, that is, indeed, your home. 

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello!!!

Can I put in a writing request??

Because I love your writing!!! 🥹

Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it

Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)

omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!

warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL

also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd

Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.

Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.

You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.

You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.

Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.

‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.

You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.

Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.

However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.

“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.

You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.

“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.

His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck

“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”

Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.

“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.

You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.

Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.

His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.

“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.

Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.

With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.

“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.

Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.

You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.

Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.

You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.

Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.

Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.

Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.

“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”

[milliumizoomi]

Hi, I was thinking Armando Ateras x Reader. So let’s just say that Reader is half human and half vampire and she controls her thirst but she still needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. When Armando came home, he noticed that the house is completely quiet and he saw Reader on the bed back turn and was breathing heavily. He walked towards her and he noticed that her eyes were brown and dark and has dark circles under her eyes and he asked what is wrong and told him that she needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. So Armando offers her to feed off from him but she says no quickly but still lets her feed. :)

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

☆彡SUMMARY.; You’re so thirsty, and yet you can’t take the help he’s offering.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x HALFVAMP!READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; ONE SHOT

☆彡GENRE.; SLIGHT CRACK + ANGST (if you squint) + FLUFF

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mentions of Blood, Mentions of human testing, Child Abandonment, Mentions of Death, Biting, + Mature Language

☆彡NOTES.; Thank you sooo much for the request and I’m sorry it took so long, it took me 3 days to edit this🧍🏽‍♀️,, it was kicking my ass fr but I had fun writing it since I don’t think I’ve ever written something like this before. I hope yall enjoyyyy!!🥰🥰

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🧛🏽‍♀️.

🎧FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, YOU CAN LISTEN TO SORROWS by BRYSON TILLER🎧

Death.

So this is what this dreaded thing feels like.

It had felt like years, centuries even you’ve been at home feeling pain beyond what you believe to be normal.

Put it simply, you’re thirsty as shit and the only thing that you can drink to ease it a little you have nothing of.

Blood.

With you being half vampire and all, it’d make sense that’d be the only thing you can even think of drinking.

The backstory of you being or becoming a vampire is definitely not a pretty one. You were tested in from an early age. Your shit parents sold you off for a couple grubby dollars because they could. They just didn’t want to take care of you, so what better way to get rid of a kid than selling her off right?

God bless the world now though because they’re dead, and they never get to bring another kid into this world. It took years of being prodded, poked, scanned, and lasered until Miami Department came and got you out of there. Only the people on this mission was even aware of your situation and what exactly you were.

Your situation was made top secret, which meant not many should even know you’re the person rescued from this place. Only the people in the mission, which was AMMO, and the captain, that was it.

That being said you had to be kept in a facility for a while to be monitored before they let you go. They didn’t want to risk anything so they had to make sure you were good to go to be let out. And with you being so top-secret, that meant you had to stay in a place with someone that already knew your secret. Marcus decided to take you in, after many, many… many talks with Mike. They made sure you got what you needed and you even got the chance to integrate back into society.

However, this isn’t the matter at hand right now.

With this all being said, the fact was that you were not full vampire. With that in mind, this sheer thirst you have for blood right now is absolutely ridiculous. You’ve never had this problem before.

You don’t even know why you’re feeling like this in the first place.

You were usually able to control yourself, control your desires, your urges, your thirst. But now, it felt like you could rip the walls off hospital just to get inside for even a drop of blood.

Stones felt like they were piling higher and higher into your neck.

You were so fucking thirsty.

It had been god knows how many hours, close to about 2 days since the hospital closed down and you could feel the hot sensation of burning in your insides, along with fatigue and pain all over your body. You could curse the damned hospitals for putting you through this. You could control your thirst, you knew you could, but for some reason these last couple days, you had been completely insatiable.

And the people who could help you right now had been gone for almost a week. One of them being your boyfriend of 11 months.

Armando.

You had met him at the department, where you usually had to go for routine inspection of the state of your body and your abilities. He had been let out of jail for sometime, and with him being on AMMO, his father informed him of your situation.

Apparently he trusted his son with your secret.

He was weary of you at first, but that quickly died when he saw how you carried yourself. What led him to become so drawn to you was your raw strength and mental fortitude. He was impressed (and partially terrified) not only of your speed and strength, but also your ability to keep your thirst for blood at a minimum.

Granted nobody else in the world was like you.

Still though, he half expected you to react in the ways he’d seen vampires in movies would, unarticulated and flat out greedy for blood. Your personality is what sold him though, but that’s a story for another time.

Right now, the man you were currently silently begging to come home was nowhere to be found, as he was busy on a mission, and only god knows how long it’ll take him, or anybody else who knows about your situation to come back, You wanted him to be back so badly so he could just hold you as you went through this, not wanting to be alone. You were laying on your side, back facing the door and breathing so hard you were feeling severely lightheaded, even when laying down.

The after what felt like another hour had gone by, you heard the front door open and could’ve screamed for joy if you weren’t so damn thirsty and borderline passing out.

“Baby..?”

You heard his voice as his smell was enough to make you feel like you could get through this.

Armando, on the other hand, was on it.

Immediately, when he neared the bedroom after putting his stuff down, he could already sense something was wrong. When he saw you laying on the bed, back facing him and breathing hard, he immediately was on full alert.

He came over to you and slowly turned you over in your back, trying to assess the state you’re in.

“Mama? Talk to me, tell what’s wrong, what do you need?”

You looked at him, barely able to form words, you were just so out of it. He noticed your usual brown eyes were so dark they were border-lining black now, and under your eyes were dark circles. You looked like you haven’t slept in days.

“Mama talk to me please.. I need to know what to do to help you..”

“..thirsty.” You barely manage to answer him, practically gasping as the single word left your mouth.

“Where’s your blood baby? You don’t have any more?”

You shook your head no. And you already knew what his next question would be, so again, grasping at straws for the words to rip themselves from the back of your burning throat, you managed to say, “..hospital’s closed.. can’t get more..”

He tsks at the information you just told him. He quickly kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, lifting your head slowly to rest and on his lap as he brushes your hair, trying to find anyway to alleviate the pain he knows you’re in right now.

Judging by your state, you could very well die without getting blood somehow, and of course he could go get it for you, but he doesn’t want to leave your side.

He can’t risk that.

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...”

At this point, you felt like your head was splitting and your ears were ringing, so you swore you had heard him wrong. You gave him an incredulous look, which he picked up on. “Baby I’m not kidding.” Quickly, but carefully, he pulled your body up so you were in a position where you were sitting in his lap, face facing his.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, you need to drink some of mine, now.”

You shake your head immediately. Weakly, you respond, “Hell no.. I’m not doing that. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.”

He shoots you a look, and if you could, you’d muster up the strength to roll your eyes. You swore you’d never drink directly from a person, it just felt so wrong to you, wrong to even think about. It would make you feel less human, and it already took you months to start ingesting blood.

“Woman drink, now!” Still being stubborn, you didn’t budge. So he had to take matters into his own hands. He guided your head from the crook of his shoulder to look at him.

“Listen to me mama.. I can tell you’re fucking exhausted and tired, so I need you to listen to me and drink, I’ll be damned if I lose you to your stubbornness. I’m not playing with you. Drink.” You start shying away from the intensity of his gaze and words.

You knew very well what you not listening to him would do. Sighing, you sucked it up and looked at him, nodding. He leans back a bit and takes off his shirt, then cranes his neck to one side, fully surrendering himself so you can start the process.

You swallow nervously, the dry feeling scraping at your insides. Slowly, you lean closer, your fangs slowly growing as your face draws closer to his face. You stop momentarily, not sure if you want to go through with this. “Go on baby, está bien..” he rasps, rubbing your back gently.

At his reassurance, you come close enough to his neck and open your mouth, your sharp fangs coming into view and bite down. He groans at the intrusion, his body momentarily tensing at the feeling.

You on the other hand felt as if you were in pure bliss. The sounds you were making at the taste of his blood would have the neighbors sharing some questionable looks. You felt so energized, and you couldn’t get enough. His blood felt like crack to you, it was so addictive. Armando swore it would hurt more than it did. It felt.. pleasing.

He liked it.

Maybe he should let you do this more often.

Finally, you pull back from him, dazed. He too is a little whipped from the situation. He holds the back of your head as you pull back, studying your face. Your eyes were already beginning to glow, reverting to their original color. “¿Mejor?” You nod yes, bringing a hand up to wipe the access blood and the corner of your mouth. Your body had felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity.

It felt so much better.

“See.. that’s why you need to listen to me mama.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I know.. thank you baby.”

He smiled at you. “De nada, mamá...now can you wrap this up for me so we can shower?” Gesturing to his neck.

You laugh a bit and smile. “Sí, vale.”

[GLOSSARY]

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...” —“Mama, let’s go... drink mine, I can’t leave you like that...”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.” — “I wasn’t asking you.”

“. . . está bien..” — “. . . it’s fine..”

“¿Mejor?” — “Better?”

“De nada, mamá. . .” — “You’re welcome, mama. . .”

“Sí, vale.” — “Yeah, okay.”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori @nuggetnat888 @yeahnobyehoney @urbanlovestory || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

[opiopal]

yall wanna know something I think abt a lot? teenage/ little sibling mc au's. Mc gets brought down to the devildom at like 15-16 yr, obviously there is zero romance and instead they just get kinned as the 8th sibling in the HOL.

you guys wanna know what else I think of a lot? little sibling Mc being an agent of chaos when their found family trope isnt paying attention.

I can't help but imagine that once mc is kinned they get crazy spoiled. not spoiled rotten but they know they can get away with a LOT because they're now seen as the cute youngest that doesnt know any better. but obviously they do since they are a teenager who knows how the world works.

and I mention the agent of chaos thing is because they were already attending highschool before hand, so they quickly notice how highschoolish RAD feels, so they were able to jump into the social ring a lot faster then regular Mc. and thus have the ability to get information from people who trust them/like them. so it ends up being useful to them. and now to my leading point: imagine a sort of friendship with Mephisto. its really more like, a symbiotic relationship. they are around each other for a reason. and that reason is RADs newpaper club.

it first started out with Mc staying after at RAD with lucifer to help with a few things, eventually Mc was put in a random room to hang out in after they did all that they could. which turned out to be the room for the newspaper club. after a while they get bored because their D.D.D died and they snagged a paper that was meant for the next day. eventually Mephisto enters the room, goes to tell them to leave which quickly they say "Dia told me I can be in here, if you have a problem with what the lord wants you could always go tell him that!" which shut him up fast. a good couple of minutes go by before the silence is broken by Mc speaking up and going, "You know, this is kinda boring." offended, he whips around, "excuse me?"

"theres nothing interesting here. interviews.. talking about things that everyone already knows about.. like, I could google half this junk." "I- well what would you know!?" "a lot actually. you dont appeal to any of the students here."

he glares for second before inhaling slowly, remembering that diavolo might be nearby.

"oh yeah? as if you could do better." "I could actually," "well i would love to hear it then."

he says sarcastically. though Mc speaks anyways.

mc adjusts how they were sitting and scans over the paper for a second.

"a gossip section would do it good." "what?" "come on dude, its non-sports club 101, if you want people to pay attention to you, you need to appeal to them. I was in theater for a while and we'd bribe people with free food if they sat through the whole show. this place loves drama. and lucifer being drawn riding on a unicorn isn't funny enough to get more then one person to buy it."

slowly they start talking a bit more casually and stop being so hostile. eventually Mc says that they could tell him the gossip they hear if he wants to make a part in the paper for said gossip. so, from then on they slip notes to him about student drama. which does indeed get more papers told!

though one day, someone pisses Mc off. not really that they were the one insulted, but they heard a few demons talking shit about their older brothers. so for the next week Mc takes a good amount of notes on those demons. which eventually they go to Mephisto with their notes and gave them to him. when he questions why these particular demons, he's met with a very angry "if those cunts want to talk shit and not mind their business then why shouldn't their own business get talked about." for a moment he wants to press further... but unfortunately for him he found himself actually caring about this human very much so he couldn't help but just want to make them feel better... and this much of a consititant story would draw people in so its totally not that he kinned this kid as well, totally!! so for about two weeks the gossip section has an ongoing story that causes nearly the whole school to get a paper to stay updated.

of course every bit of gossip uses code names to keep people from being outed on anything. and honestly some of the gossip might end up being people bringing it to the newspaper club themselves, so maybe a small confessions page ends up being opened.

obviously this is something a little cracked, and just a not very thought out thing that exists bc it makes me giggle when I'm daydreaming before I fall asleep<3 and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if there was already a gossip section in the school papers, but unfortunately I was never ever able to make it past the first few lessons of session 2 of obey me, which sucks:/

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: wowowowow im so so happy yall are liking this, i found a discrepancy already from previous chapters so pls don't think too hard about the time line bc honestly idk where we are even at either!!

ch 4

warnings: cussing, Logan is mean to Charles, blood mentioned, idk what else

previous -- next

~~~~~

The feeling of the blood sticking to your body made you feel dizzy. It had been so long since you had fed from a person, let alone Logan and you wanted more. You needed more. Frenzied was the only true way to describe how you felt. You needed to eat.

A hundred and fifty years of denying your primal instinct finally caught up to you. You had a taste for warm, orgasmic blood and you were willing to do anything you could to get more. 

You wandered the walls aimlessly, thankful for the final exams happening the next day. You stumbled around, pupils blown wide as you frantically searched for your next meal. Anything with a beating heart would do, you just needed that sweet, metallic liquid. 

Where are you going y/n? You turned your head, the voice startling you. Come to my room.

Desperately you chased the soundless voice. You chased it, listening to the beating hearts of the children sleeping peacefully in the dormitories. Finally you reached him, Charles.

You entered the room and paused, suddenly aware of your appearance and mental state. 

“Oh my god. I’m-”

“Enough y/n. Sit.” He mentioned to the end of his bed. “You won’t hurt me. I trust you”

You listened to his instruction, shakily sitting and playing with your hands. 

“There you go. You are very loud tonight, drowning out the sounds of everyone else. I can now see why.” You stared at him silently, bringing your hand up to wipe your mouth of the dried blood. “Have you thought about my offer? Are you willing to go?”

“I think I have to go” You told him, thinking about Logan. 

“Are you sure? You know where you’ll end up don’t you?” You stared at him and nodded.

“If I don’t, this will happen again. I’ll drain him dry.”

“I understand why you feel shame. What happened to those girls were not your fault. You are not a monster.”

“We both know that's a lie, Charles.”

“Then avenge them” You let the words sink into your soul. This would be the only way you could truly live with yourself. “Kill the man who did this to you. Alex doesn’t know. Just us.”

Charles wasn’t comfortable with the death of mutants. You knew that all too well. Killing this man would give him piece of mind. Using your hands to do it would give him deniability if anything were to go wrong. 

You understood what this meant to him. But to you this was closure. You will kill the man who tortured you. 

---

The next morning you sat in  the passenger seats of the blackbird and watched as the ground grow smaller. Alex was controlling the jet for the most part, occasionally asking you to flip a lever or press a button. He didn’t talk much the flight over, noticing how you were in a completely different headspace than him. 

The flight was relatively quick considering the distance traveled, you’d have to remember Hank for upgrading the jet’s engines. As Alex landed the jet in the private airfield owned by the Xavier family estate, you stared out the window recalling the last time you were in London. 1913, right before the first world war. By then, Logan was taken by the scientists for the weapon x project. It was just you wandering the streets, searching for any trace of him. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” You snapped your head to Alex. “You’re lucky you’re hot” You frowned at his response. “I said that the hotel is just a fifteen minute walk from here. I already put the jet in conceal mode, so are you ready or are we gonna stare at that tree for like thirty more minutes?”

“You don’t have to be such an ass about it.” You told him, unbuckling your seatbelt and joining him off the jet. 

“I just like to tease you okay? Lets get going” He said, holding out his hand to you. Raising your eyebrow at the gesture, he sighed. “We are supposed to be a couple on their honeymoon. Did Charles tell you anything?”

You grabbed his hand but it felt wrong. It wasn’t as warm as Logan’s or big. Alex was soft and comforting, but not in the way you found Logan’s hand. You weren’t sure why this feeling was creeping into your heart, but maybe it was because this was the first time someone other than Logan touched you like this, ever. 

Chalking it up to the fake intimacy of it all, you put on a brave face and walked in step with him, heading to the hotel.

---

“You better speak up you wheelchair fuck. Where the hell did. you. send. Her?” Logan was stuck in his own frenzy now. Angry at you for up and leaving. Angry at Alex for being a dick head flirt. Angry at the bald man in front of him for not explaining a thing.

“Logan, calm down. y/n is safe with Alex. They are just doing recon on a uprising mutant cult in London.”

“You should’ve sent me, not her” He growled. 

“Why do you care so much Logan?” Charles wheeled closer to Logan, not afraid of what he was capable of. 

“I don’t care!” Even Logan couldn’t believe himself. It was pathetic really. Denying himself the pleasure of her love, but indulging in every intimate interaction they had. He had been in love with her for so long, but something was holding him back. 

Maybe it was the fear of not having his feelings returned. Or maybe even the fear of loosing his oldest companion, the one person who had never judged him. 

“London. She is at 578 Trekshile road, the hotel. Room 327.” Charles told Logan, hearing his inner dialogue. “I have tasked her with killing Morgue.” 

His eyes snapped to the Professor. “What?”

“Go to her if you must.” With that, Charles left the room. Logan was stunned. Morgue was the cruelest person he had ever encountered. You had spent years with him until you had found Logan after the weapon x program ended. From your stories, Logan should’ve killed him years ago. 

All he had to do now was find a way to London. Luckily for him, the silhouette of a blue, devil tailed boy had walked passed the door.

“Kurt, come here I need a favor”

~~~~

Tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble

an: kurt my baby <3, also Morgue is my oc, based on Morgz 💀(only in name)

[evera-era]

heal me. (pt 2)

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt one here

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of illness, implied suggestiveness, ellie nurses reader back to health, even more fluff

a/n: eeeee yall i redid this chapter so many times but i think i’m finally happy with it. part 3 will be the last one!

Ellie had found herself much more aware of your existence. It’s been a few weeks since your last conversation, and now, her eyes searched for you almost everywhere she went.

Sometimes she would linger on the streets of Jackson — walking home almost agonizingly slow — for a chance to run into you. If she was lucky, she would find you tending to a crying child, or helping someone cross the street. And if you noticed her, too, you’d exchange a small wave.

She was a little embarrassed about it. She told herself that it’s because she has time to pass, and nothing really to rush home to. But she’s never done this before, and deep down she knows the truth.

It was the sound of your voice that surprised her as she was returning from patrol one day.

“Ellie!”

She quickly turned her head, blinking two or three times before realizing that you were really in front of her.

“Oh, hey.” She says, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. “How— How are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed her torso for a moment. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I, uh, just got back from patrol. Dropped my horse off.” She explains. “Oh, and um… the cut is almost done healing.”

“That’s great,” You beamed. God, even your smile was alluring.

A sharp wind blows across Ellie’s face, and yours. It tousles your hair that you had so obviously tried to brush down. She can’t explain why, but she thinks you look better this way.

A few people passed by as you stood several feet apart, fidgeting shyly. “I figured it was all good when you didn’t come back to see me.” You added, looking down at the ground.

Shit, She thinks. “Damn, wait, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay—“

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did, I just…” She scratches her head. “Wasn’t sure if it was right of me to go, like, during business hours.”

You found it intriguing how seriously Ellie had taken the matter. And then you think of something funny in your head, and catch yourself laughing a bit. Ellie watches intently.

“So… you’re trying to visit me after hours?” You joke lightheartedly. “Wow. We’re moving fast already.”

“What?” She asks hesitantly. “Fuck, that was weird, wasn’t it? That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You say quickly, taking in the way she looks when she blushes. It was cute. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Ellie scoffs, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her heart had stopped for a second there.

“But…” You begin, and Ellie perks up. “I’m a pretty cool person outside of med clinic, so we could always hang out when I’m off. And I don’t look… shitty.”

Pfft, Ellie thinks. If this is you looking shitty, then shitty looks great on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says quietly. “Uh, are you normally, like, busy, or…”

“No, not really.” You reply. “Most days I’m out of the clinic by dinnertime.”

“Oh.”

The conversation goes quiet again. You were worried; you didn’t want it to seem like an empty promise. So you look off to the side before mustering up the courage to ask.

“How about tomorrow?” You question. “We can meet back up here. If you’re not doing anything.”

She raises her eyebrows. Truthfully, she’s surprised that you asked. It would have taken her a thousand years just to man up and do it. Typical Ellie fashion.

“T-Tomorrow?” She asks.

“Yup. Sound good?”

Damn, you were cool. Ellie looks down, smiles, then nods. Her ears were becoming hot again.

“Okay, cool.” You backed away for a moment before grinning. You break into a slight jog, and she looks back up again. She can see your hand shooting into the air to wave at her.

“I look forward to our date!” You yell during your departure.

Ellie nearly passes out.

—

The next day, Ellie had gone back to the same spot as you said, promptly around dinnertime. But you were nowhere to be found.

Nor were you there the day after that, or the day after that.

At first she was confused. And then she became frustrated — no, annoyed. Why would you act so nice if you were just gonna leave her high and dry?

It’s not until a few days later, when she passes by a group of women on the street, that she discovers why.

“Have you heard about the new girl? The medic?” One of the women asks.

“Yes! I’ve heard she’s great,” The other chimes in. “But she’s been out sick. Stomach bug, they say.”

“Really?” The other replies. “Oh, I hope she gets better soon. The clinic is gonna struggle without her.”

Ellie immediately felt like shit. Here she was, writing herself off from ever looking your way again. And meanwhile, you were stuck at home, not at all by choice.

She had decided if you couldn’t show up to the date, then the date would just have to come to you.

So she spends all afternoon preparing a warm meal for you. She wraps it up carefully, and takes one of her favorite books. She tucks her journal in her backpack, too.

It takes her a while to find your house. It required a bit of asking around, especially considering how you joined the community not too long ago. But Ellie is persistent, and she eventually finds out where you live.

You stayed in a shed that was visibly transformed into a studio apartment. You had planted some daylily bunches along the short walkway leading to your door. A small gesture, but it brought life to your humble new home.

Underneath laid a coir mat. A small hanging plant hung near your porch light.

Ellie swallows softly before knocking three times. Her calloused hands cradle around the round container as she anticipates your answer.

But you don’t. And her heart drops again, as she places another sequence of knocks on your door. She feels uneasy — what if something happened to you?

Her thoughts come to a halt, though, when the door handle jiggles and you sleepily open up.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief.

“E-Ellie?” You rubbed at your eyes. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“I…” She clears her throat. “I heard you were sick. You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go back to work tomorrow.” You sighed. “God, Ellie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to hang out that day, and—“

“It’s fine,” She says quietly.

“I spent all day cleaning, and researching... trying to get back on my feet.” You look down at the bowl in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh… it’s bean soup. Made it myself.” She grimaces. “It might not be that good, now that I think about it. I don’t cook often.”

You smile warmly, tugging at the hem of your oversized sweater.

“Thank you… that’s really sweet of you.”

She holds the container out, and you receive it with gentle hands. She shuffles her feet.

“I, uh…” She pulls at her backpack strap. “I brought something else for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” You motion for her to come in. “Here, set it down inside.”

You turn, tucking your hair behind your ears as Ellie makes her way in. She closes the door behind her, examining the setup.

Some of your belongings were still in boxes, in the corners of the room. Most of it was unpacked — necessities, anyway.

You had accumulated a stack of medical textbooks during your initial supply run. You also had tons of rags, which she assumes is used to make bandages when you’re at work.

As for your decorations, she finds them intriguing. The rugs and posters you had up on the wall reflected your aura quite well.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” You added, taking the lid off of the soup. “I’ve still been trying to get settled.”

“You’re good,” She smiles. “I like it so far.”

You gleam back at her before beginning to sip on some of the broth. Her eyes widen as she slings her backpack off of her shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Her hand slides into her bag, and emerges with a thin comic book. “Have you ever seen this before?”

You shake your head.

“Savage Starlight.” She pinches the spine with her fingertips. “It’s… a pretty good comic book series.”

“You have more?” You ask.

“I have the whole collection,” She replies. “Back at my place. I’m kind of obsessed.”

You took another spoonful of soup, looking down into the bowl. “That’s really cool… I don’t think I’ve seen a comic book in ages.”

Ellie knew it was probably a dumb move. She had spent years collecting this entire series, and here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. But she wanted to trust you — she wanted to get to know you — and she couldn’t accomplish that without being a little vulnerable herself.

Ellie looks up for a moment, then sets the comic book down on the dining table. You raise your gaze.

“You can read it, if you want.”

“What?” You scrunch your brows. “No way. I mean, that’s part of your collection, right?”

“Yeah, but… you can just bring it back.” She shrugs. “No biggie.”

Truthfully, it was a biggie. Hauling it to your house was an ever conscious decision. But she’s also hoping it would give you an excuse to come see her from now on. If you liked the book, that is.

You sighed and waited a few seconds before looking up at Ellie.

“Let’s do a redo.” You blurt out.

“W-What?”

“Our date.” You clarify. “I wanna do a redo of our date.”

Ellie ponders, staring at you intently.

“It was supposed to be nice, and then I got sick, and I ruined it—“

“It’s fine, I swear—“

“And I just… I feel bad that you’re even here.” You look up at her. “I’m supposed to— to be the medic, yet you’re here taking care of me. We barely even met.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, kicking at the ground. And then, ever so softly, she mumbles:

“I like this.”

The air is still, and you can feel your heart swell in your chest. Just a little bit.

“I liked… coming here, and seeing that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a day. ‘Cause nobody thinks about how, after everything you do, that you might need some help too. You know?”

She fixates her green eyes on you before resuming. “So just… please don’t say shit like that. Okay? I wanna get to know you.”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Even if you did, you probably couldn’t. Your heart was fluttering too fast in your chest.

“Shit… It’s getting dark,” She says after a moment. “I might start heading back.”

You nodded, rising from the dining table. You steadied yourself as she began heading for the door.

Ellie’s hand reaches for the handle, but then she pauses, and turns to face you.

“When you feel better.”

Your voice was softer than ever. It was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Our date,” Ellie comments. “When you feel better, we’ll redo our date. You can come over to my place, and I’ll show you the rest of the collection there. Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

[yeonmuse]

hello, can i request hyunjae smut #15 & #24 delinquent x good girl/boy reader please? i love your writing btw :))

PAIRING Delinquent Hyunjae x goodgirl

WORD COUNT | 1.6k

GENRE pure smut 18+

MORE | todays req lowkey ruined me, this man is my bias wrecker so i was losing my shit while writing this but here yall go beloveds

There was no one on the campus that the girls admired more than Lee Hyunjae, of course there were many attractive guys other than him that attended the school, but many of them were either weird, taken or more of the friends with benefits type. Hyunjae on the other hand, the girls loved because he never gave the attention that they so desperately craved and most of them loved a chase, well most except for you. You and him were completely opposites, everyone loved you because you were sweet, smart, charming and you remained friendly to everyone including those that weren’t exactly deserving of it.

Hyunjae on the other hand was the polar opposite, he ignored everyone, rarely showed up for classes, but when he did he was always the center of some kind of mess. Just like today, today was meant to be a good day for you, you were meant to give this big presentation in class, but unfortunate enough for you, hyunjae had other plans, spirit week, a week that was usually meant for fun had been turned into something different entirely all because of Lee Hyunjae and his friends. For the last 3 years at the University, Hyunjae and his entire group of nuances had been treating spirit week as their own personal prank week, and this year you were the butt of the joke.

Hate was a strong word for Hyunjae, in all honesty he didn’t hate nor dislike you he just felt like you were uptight, like the little sweetheart good girl shit you pull was all an act. Of course on the outside you looked nice and sweet but he was more than sure if he tried hard enough there was more than he could pull out of you.

“Alright, yn the floor is yours.” The professor steps from the podium freeing up the space for you to take. The moment you step behind it the door came bursting open and in ran Lee hyunjae with water guns and water balloons in a pouch on his chest, only they weren't filled with water.

“Mr Lee, what's the meaning of this?” Before anyone knew it you were ambushed in front of the entire lecture hall, your clothes fully soaked with pink dye and pink slime.

“You look good in pink yn.” Hyunjae chuckles and runs off, the professor trailing behind him as you stood there completely dumbfounded and absolutely soaked from head to toe. By the time Hyunjae had been caught and dragged back into the classroom the professor had already dismissed everyone except for you, you had been waiting for an apology and an explanation.

“Since you had so much fun making the mess, yn here will make sure you have just as much fun cleaning it.” Your professor reprimands Hyunjae before walking off to change his clothes that were also covered in dye.

You sat silently with your back resting against the teacher's desk and a towel wrapped around yourself, you weren’t going to speak first, you would wait until he decided to say something to you, but he didn’t. By the looks of it he was heading straight towards the door to take his leave before you ran in front of him and stopped him.

“Where are you going you’re supposed to be cleaning.”

“You have to do it yourself.” He says trying to walk past you until you step in his way again.

“Professor told you to do it, not me, and besides you're the one that did this.” You respond by showing him your shirt that was now completely ruined.

“You’re annoying, you know that.” He responds inching closer and closer to you until your back hit the door

“I'm annoyed?”

“You are, too nice, too naive, a cute little teacher's pet.”

“I study and work hard, hyunjae, the teachers call on me because of my work.”

“Bullshit, they call on you because you do everything they ask, and you're their favorite little good girl, a teacher's pet.”

“That’s not true.”

“Honestly, i wouldbt be surprised if you're sleeping with one of them, if this little good girl act of yours is all a facade.” He leans in closer, eyes locked on your lips.

“Is that sweetheart? You fuck your way to the top?”

“I would never- i wouldn't-“ his words flustered you, that’s not what everyone thought of you right? That you just slept your way to the top? That it was all an act.

“Use your words sweetheart, aren't you usually very articulate?” He cages you in with his arm, his other hand brushing against your lip

“I didn’t sleep around, I did the work.”

“Did you now?” By now everything had been going in one ear and out the other for Hyunjae, he could tell he was making you nervous, and if he couldn’t get you to cut your little act by getting you mad, then maybe he just needed to try different tactics.

“Pretty girl did all the work by herself like a good girl, always a good girl.” By now your heart was beating out of your chest, you weren't sure how to react.

“Since we didn’t get to hear your presentation today, how about we find a different way to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use yeah?”

“Hyunjae-“

“What is it sweetheart? We shouldn't? Someone might hear? It's inappropriate? Do you really care though hm?” Before you knew it his hand had snaked beneath your dress and his middle finger glided across the fabric of your underwear making you flinch.

“From the feeling of things it doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, that’s cute, it only took a few words to get your pretty little thoughts wandering.”

“If you can be a good girl for them you can be one for me too right sweetheart?” You nod in response, not having the voice to speak up to him.

“That's not an answer love.”

“Yes- I can.” You respond softly, your voice catching in your throat mid response making you turn away from him out of embarrassment.

“On the floor, pretty.” He slips his jacket off and places it on the ground for you to kneel. A small gesture but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. You were quick to oblige with earned an amused grin from hyunjae.

“What would everyone else say it they knew their campus sweetheart was eager to get on her knees for the very person that ruined her presentation in front of the entire lecture hall.

As he had you kneeling down before him he found the sight before him absolutely glorious.

“Fuck you’re so pretty, i need to ruin you.” As one of his hands gripped your hair into a makeshift ponytail the other worked at his pants. Your eyes on the other hand were fixated on him, you knew this was wrong on so many levels and your heart beat like crazy in your chest at the thought of possibly getting caught. As hyunjaes eyes gazed into your own that were staring directly into his he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Open.” With the force of his grip he forces your head back watching as you open your mouth and your tongue falls from your mouth. He hadn't done a single thing but you already had him folding. He slaps it against your tongue before shoving his entire cock into your mouth, ignoring your gags and chokes. A moan spills past his lips as he fills your plump lips wrap around him and your throat closes up around him as you try to breathe.

“Fuck- breathe through your nose sweetheart, you can take me baby.” Tears burned the corners of your eyes as he pushed your head, forcing himself further before he began to thrust it into your throat. That was when the tears came, the burning of him repeatedly fucking into your throat, the way he tugged at your hair. Hyunjae absolutely loved it, he loved ruining you, watching the way your thighs pressed together abd the tears ran down your face.

As your tongue grazed against him a groan spilled from his lips and it made your body quiver. The sound of you taking him, along with the way your nails dug into his thighs and the way your throat squeezed around him was driving him insane. For you on the other hand the tears blurred your vision and your throat burned from the repetitive abuse it had been taking. Hyunjae heard a whine spill past your lips and he gently combed the hair from your face.

“Shhh, shh its okay sweetheart just a little more for me baby just hold out a little longer.” His words made you completely melt, by now you were a complete mess on the outside and inside, why were you listening to him so well? Hyunjaes breath caught in his throat as you stared up at him all teary eyed.

“My god you’re so beautiful holy shit.” As he continued to fuck into your throat his fingers brush against your swollen lips and the moan you let out was enough to push him over the edge. You were completely shocked when he shot his entire load down your throat, his hips stuttering as he completely emptied himself into your throat.

As he pulled out, his fingers brushed across your lips as you took a moment to catch your breath. He wipes the tears from your face while he also tries to regain his composure.

“Pretty little cry baby, i'll give you another reason to cry before we leave this lecture room, ill engrave myself into you until you drop that little good girl act completely.”

[fortunapre]

𝐀/𝐍𖧞 this is the last part. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW: “dont stop! your writing is god-tier!“ i heard you all chant in unison.

Dont fret little ones. 🖐️🙂‍↕️ Ive surely got some more ideas in the bank...If you haven’t, go check out my prompts list <3

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𖧞 16+ (entire fic rating), swearing, mention of alcohol, mention of intoxication, a little bit o’ mischief…not really but you’ll see ;)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader

Go back?? (Scene vi) Click Here!

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 Scene VII 𖧞 (𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞)

be honest im 𝒻ℯℯ𝒹𝒿𝓃𝑔 yall

December 17th, the same night

We both walked into the room in silence.

The only noise was the shutting of the door and a barely audible “Santa Baby,” playing from the other room. Instead of looking at Oscar, I surveyed the room.

Unlike the front room, there were no Christmas decorations. It was a plain bedroom, a guy’s bedroom by the looks of it, with only a small desk and a bed. I tried to distract my gaze from the man in front of me, but the tension was growing too thick.

I reluctantly looked away from the uninteresting room and focused on him. He was no longer facing away from me- he was leaning back on the desk, hands gripping the desk on each side of his body. No matter how relaxed he seemed to be trying to look, I could see how rigid he really was.

He was looking at me, no smirk present. With how serious he looked, I thought to myself about how I kind of miss his ever-lasting grin.

He let out a deep sigh and moved to fold his arms, his body still leaning back against the desk.

I watched as he slightly turned one of his folded arms, looking at his wrist. I assume he was looking for his watch, but forgotten he’d given it up to the festive host earlier. He sighed again and looked away.

I only kept looking his way. I was blatantly staring, but what else was I supposed to do. I was hoping to get him to look at me.

My staring worked, as he probably felt my burning gaze. He looked up, brown eyes meeting mine.

“I’m guessing there’s still about six minutes left,” He finally broke the silence, and told me.

“Yeah…” I had no idea what to say. Did he want to get out of here? Or rather, did he want to get out of a locked room with only me? “..probably.” I added.

“This is stupid.” I heard Oscar mutter. I'm not sure if I meant to hear him, but I felt kind of sad at his words.

“7 minutes in heaven is always stupid. I’ve always tried to stay out of party games.” I told him, trying to save myself from feeling embarrassed. While we were sitting in a circle, and as I waited turn after turn, I dreaded when I’d be chosen. I dreaded being chosen, because I was secretly hoping the person to choose me was Oscar. And now that I’d gotten my wish, he didn’t even want me here.

He saw my reaction and acted quickly. “No, that’s not…” his words trailed off. I waited for him to finish his sentence, slightly confused. “Not the game,” he added. “That's not what I’m talking about.”

“What then? Being stuck with me?” I didn't mean to say what I was worrying about outloud, but I continued anyway “Trust me mate, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.” I lied through my teeth. I definitely sounded defensive.

He scoffed and I saw him poke his tongue in his cheek. “Y’know what?” Oscar spoke and he sounded deeper and sharper. Apparently what I said riled him up. “Maybe If you’d let me speak, I’d tell you. Don’t start saying shit just to start something.”

I’d almost flinched at his tone and curse.

“Ok.” His anger only fueled mine. I unfolded my arms and put a hand on my hip, trying to look as unfazed as possible by his presence. “Enlighten me.”

“First of all, why would you think I wouldn’t want to be near you? Did me kissing you not once, but twice, not mean anything?” His voice was raising, but he didn’t look angry so to speak. I scrunched my eyebrows at his omission. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care, actually.” He suddenly added, catching me off guard.

It was my turn to scoff. God, and he accuses me of being an instigator. “Asshole! Of Course it meant something, it takes two to go as far as we did, you know.”

The argument held confession-notes in between the lines, but any affection or truth was smothered by our matching anger. Neither of us were understanding the words that came out of our mouths, and instead becoming more riled up by the yelling. Which, we were definitely yelling now.

“Don’t lie and try to make me feel better, Y/N. You were probably just filled with adrenaline.”

“Do. Not. Tell me how I feel. I know what I'm doing, I knew what I was doing just fine both times.”

“Really?” He had a monotone accusing tone, trying to find a lie. He seemed to be unimpressed with anything I said now.

“Yeah. Really.”

I hadn’t realized how fast my heart was beating now. I tried to slow my breathing and be the level-headed one because his head was definitely not thinking straight. Apparently he had nothing else to say, but neither had I. This argument was stupid and we both knew it.

We both stayed silent and slunk against something behind us, not daring to look at eachother.

Then, I heard him speak again and prepared an eye-roll.

“Now, what I was saying was…” Oscar started still not looking at me. “Was that I meant that I’m what's stupid.”

“That’s an understate-”

“Don’t.” He stopped me. “Don’t try to be snarky, Y/n. Let me speak.”

I just looked at him then raised my eyebrows and moved my head in a ‘Well, speak!’ motion.

Despite my attitude, he stayed calmer than before and took a deep breath. “Do you remember Christmas, two years ago?”

That same question.

What was so important two years ago? “You already asked me this…”

“Just. Yes or No? Do you remember?” He seemed suddenly on edge.

“I mean, I remember it, yeah, but are you talking about, like, a specific thing that happened? I don’t understand…” I spoke, trying to convey my confusion. He looked stern, and intent on hearing everything I had to say.

“Yeah,” he clarified. “I, um, I’m talking specifically about that night. Christmas night.”

My mind whirled as I tried desperately to pick out an obvious memory, but nothing was coming to mind.

That Christmas was the year my brother and sister didn’t come.

That Christmas was the year I was gifted the worst sweater by my mom.

That Christmas I stayed up practically all night.

I remember staying up all night, because the next morning, my mom forced me to go into town with her. I remember vividly how sluggish I’d been the whole time. But… that’s all….

Suddenly, I remembered something.

The thought of staying up triggered another thought: that night, I remember sitting on the sofa, watching a movie, when someone scared the shit out of me.

I had been peacefully wrapped in my blanket at around 4 am, when someone barreled through the door.

Oscar.

It was Oscar that scared me. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, especially Oscar since I didn’t even know he’d been out.

Two years ago, we didn’t ever talk to each other except to tease, so it’s no surprise he didn’t bother to tell me he was going somewhere.

When he came in, I was confused. My confusion grew as I’d taken in his appearance. His eyes were barely open, and his focus was darting all around the room. When his eyes met mine, his eyes opened and his body suddenly stopped. Full stop. He planted his feet and stared at me. His jaw was slack and his cheeks, from what I could tell in the little light from the kitchen behind me, was pinker than normal.

He was drunk. Oscar had come home drunk that night and had seen me when he walked through the door.

At the time, I remember laughing at him and turning back to my movie to ignore him.

But that’s not where the altercation ended– drunk Oscar had said something.

I remembered Oscar stopping, looking at me, and then he showed the broadest smile (one I'm sure would never have been directed towards me, had he been sober). Then, he sauntered closer to the sofa, out of the doorway and in front of my view of the television.

“Oscar…” I groaned. “Just go to bed, mate, your wasted.”

He stayed in place, restricting my vision and looking at me. Actually, he was staring at me. Actually he was staring all over me.

That night, I was wearing my short PJ shorts, and a Star Wars t-shirt. Nothing special, but it definitely caught drunk-oscar’s attention.

“Hello?” I tried again, but he was unrelenting.

“What?” was all he answered with.

“Get out of my way, that’s what.” I snapped, just trying to watch Princess Diaries.

He looked behind him to the screen and a grimace filled his whole face. Usually Oscar’s expressions consisted of mad and smirky-jerk, but when he was drunk, tons of emotions flashed on and off his face.

“That’s shit.” He must have been referring to the movie. His voice was groggy and deep, probably tired after what seemed like an exciting night.

“Whatever.” I gave up with the television and just wanted him to leave. “Just go to your room before someone else catches a visual of your post-party debauchery.”

“Dirty girllll,” he said slowly, borderline slurring. “Stop thinking about my de-whatever.” I quirked an eyebrow and shook my head at him. He seemed so incredibly out of it. I should totally hold this over him. Where’s my phone? I should totally film this.

I gave up looking for my phone, and looked back at oscar. Still standing there.

“Wait, what? I wasn’t at a party…” Oscar spoke, referring to my earlier statement of his “post-party” inebriation- an incredibly late reaction.

“Okayyyy…?” I said slowly. “Then what’s,” I motioned to all of him, “this?”

“Nothing.” He said rather quickly. Then his tempo changed as he looked down, almost shy. “None of your business, alright?” I nodded, but he kept speaking. “Actually, this has nothing to do with,” He copied my motion with a serious amount of sass and gestured to all of me, “…you. Ok?”

“Yeah, alright.” I was over this. He’s obviously completely drunk.

“I'm serious! Don’t accuse me of getting drunk because of my feelings, ok? Don’t even think about it. Why would I care about you… let along get drunk over fucking childhood crush on you? That’s ridiculous, and entirely possible— That’s not the point!”

Wait.

Back to the present- I now know why Oscar’s worried about that night.

Oscar must not have been that plastered if he now remembers what he said. Or rather, what he confessed. At the time I ignored his rambling and walked him to his room, away from me.

Now, I’m not sure all of that was just drunk-rambling.

Oscar was watching me figure everything out, watching me realize what he was so afraid of.

“I remember you rambling about having a… but there’s no way.” I said out loud to him, voicing my spinning thoughts. He just kept looking at me. “Right?” My voice got softer as I took in what Oscar’s silence might mean. “But you hated me.”

“Y/N.” He spoke like I was stupid.

“What?” I fired back, getting defensive.

“I never hated you, think about it.” He was trying to make me realize it, but all of my memories of him are arguments– save the past week.

“I am thinking about it. You always picked on me and fought with me. You said the meanest things and I always fought back. We’ve never gotten along…” I tried to list.

Then, all of a sudden, a smirk formed on his face.

That same smirk I’d claimed I’ve been missing, now felt weirdly… intimate?

“Oscar, you…” I didn’t know what to say.

“Yeahh” Is all he replied with, smirking and telling me all I need to know with one look. He started to move closer to me.

Step by step, he slowly walked towards me like he was testing my reaction. I just let him come closer and closer until we were face to face. Pine and wintergreen filled my senses. Our eye contact never waivered.

“Y/n, I don’t mean to bring this all up now.” he gestured to the door. His smirk lessened in intensity as he tried to apologize.

I suddenly remembered we’re in the middle of a 7 minutes in heaven game. And that it’s definitely been longer than 7 minutes.

(My sister was the culprit of our unexpected extra time, having told them to leave us alone.)

I focused back on the man in front of me. The man who had practically just confessed to me that he had a childhood crush on me. A childhood crush that he claims has never left.

“This is stupid.” I copied his words form before.

“Oh?” Oscar almost recoiled, hurt flashing on his face.

“No! Not… Not you! Not this.” I reacted and grabbed at the front of his shirt, not wanting him to misunderstand me and turn away.

Both of our breathing hitched at the contact, and the proximity it brought.

“Ok, then what do you mean?” He said, softly. His eyes were trained on my lips. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing how to say this.

“I mean I’m stupid. Im stupid for not realizing it sooner. Im stupid for being so harsh and rude and-” I started apoligizing as my emotions began rising.

“I was rude too.”

“Yeah, but you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. His confession was still new. However, the more I thought about him— Oscar Piastri, my rival and hater in every way—my mind started to clarify.

“Yeah, I…” He couldn’t say it either it seems.

We both stood close, not fully saying what we meant out loud yet still fully understanding what each other meant and wanted.

Seconds passed by of us relishing the new emotions, my grip never leaving him. We practically shared air at how close we were and our eyes locked. I started to feel what could only be described as butterflies.

It washed over me and the idea hit me like a train: I wanted him too. Maybe more than he wants me.

At this revelation I tugged him to my level and brought my lips to his ear.

I didn’t want to waste anymore time arguing or lying to ourselves.

I took a short breath and then whispered, “let’s get out of here.”

Then in almost one motion he smiled, a devilishly handsome smirk, then he grabbed my hand and took us away from the party.

Away from prying eyes.

hehehehhehehe 🫵💋

OH? WHATS THAT?!?! YOU GOT HERE FIRST BECAUSE, gasp!, you’re on my taglist?!?!?

any other people i missed or new people that want to be tagged, COMMENT or MESSAGE ME!

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𖧞

@someinsanefangirl @iloveotters11 @chunkpiboli @marauders-wife @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @verstxppen33 @silverxxs-world @zupercoolgirl @forza-charles @il0vereadingstuff

my apologies if i couldn’t tag you but hopefully you got my messsge <3

[scrollypoly]

.

Nothing is more fucking appalling and nauseating than finding out that the people that were spreading shit about me being "abusive and toxic" to someone that was literally toxic and unhealthy to me were fucking minors. When that person was also older than me. What the fuck was going on there

[juyeonszn]

DREAMS COME TRUE

PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.36k

GENRES fluff,,, just fluff

WARNINGS mature language but are we surprised, the tamest thing i’ve written in what feels like years, uni!au, best friends to lovers, mutual pining but younghoon is kinda dumb and very dramatic, one (1) kiss scene but thats about it

SUMMARY younghoon has been in love with you since what feels like the dawn of time. he’s watched you fall for the wrong guys over and over again, too much of a coward to do anything about it. but you’re on the brink of graduation and he’s finally ready to let you know. he just hopes you feel the same.

MORE hi…. how yall doin…. LOL the juyeonszn comeback no one was expecting 🥳 i’ve been in a bit of a younghoon phase lately and i realized i was not showing him enough love so i present to u this lovely piece of younghoonery <3 this is also my submission for the @deoboyznet love letter collective event! huge thank u to @sungbeam for beta’ing i owe u my life beam </3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @/deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

Maybe he should’ve told you how he felt about you during your dinner before prom senior year. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken into existence. It was the perfect moment. You were each other’s dates anyway. 

But then he chickened out—he didn’t think he deserved you. And perhaps that was only slightly true: for letting you slip through his fingers numerous times? Absolutely. But for everything else? The universe couldn’t help but pity him, too. 

There was also the time that your ex boyfriend cheated on you and you came crying to him in the middle of the night. He woke up and stayed awake until early hours of the morning just to comfort you. It wasn’t because he felt bad, but because he would do any and everything for you. While you curled in on yourself, cuddled into the safety of his arms, he debated telling you then, too. 

Time and time again, Younghoon has sat there and watched as you dated different guys. He sucks it up and deals with it because he’s afraid of rejection, but he also doesn’t want to ruin your friendship. You’ve been best friends since middle school, and that made him afraid that you’d always only see him as that. There was that saying that girls and guys could never just be friends. Unfortunately, that was the case for him, but maybe not for you.

Now here you are, the day before your college graduation, and Younghoon is once again torn between mustering up the courage to confess and putting this puppy love to rest. 

He told himself during your first year of university if he didn’t tell you at all during these four years, he would give up. You were both preparing for true adulthood and if he couldn’t lay himself bare for the person closest to him, he didn’t think it was meant to be. And well, time is running out for him. He had to speak now, or forever hold his peace.

Younghoon watches as you scamper around your apartment, gathering your things for graduation tomorrow. It was a hectic enough day without you worrying if you were going to lose something, or run late. You hang your cap and gown on the coat hook near your front door before dashing back into your room to make sure your outfit is put together. 

Even in the chaos of your zooming around, Younghoon still finds you absolutely breathtaking. You’re slightly sweating from all of your movement and from the heat of the rapidly approaching summer, but nevertheless, you look so beautiful to him. The decision that seemed so hard to make over the years feels pointless. The answer has been clear from the beginning.

“Y/N.”

You pause what you’re doing to look over at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. Your cute, caught-off-guard expression has him nearly melting into the couch. He doesn’t understand why it took him so long to get it together. 

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion when he starts walking towards you. “Wha— Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he says, his frame towering over you in a way that is never intimidating, only comforting. “I have something I need to tell you, though.”

“Can it wait? I’m a little busy here.” Your hands come to rest on your hips and it takes all of the strength inside of Younghoon to not pull you into his embrace and kiss you. He thinks he would die, and he has to survive the duration of this confession if he wants to see the other side. (The side where, hopefully, you finally become his, in the way he’s wanted for years.)

“It can’t, actually,” he breathes, a newfound, unwavering confidence taking over. “I think I’ve waited for too long.”

“You’re kinda scaring me,” you laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “What is it, Hoon?”

Speak now or forever hold your damn peace, Kim Younghoon.

“Y/N, I love you,” he starts, and when you open your mouth to say you already know that, he continues. “And not in the way I’ve told you since we were eleven. I love you in the way that I can’t go to sleep at night without wondering if you’re sleeping comfortably, too. I can’t wake up in the morning without wondering if you did that cute, little whine that you do when your alarm goes off. I think about my future constantly, even though it’s fucking terrifying, and you’re always in it. Not just as my best friend or my partner in crime, but as my forever partner, too. I’ve felt this way about for god knows how long now, but I’ve always just been too afraid of what it would do to our friendship if you didn’t see me the same way. I don’t want to sit back and watch you date these other guys who end up hurting you anymore. I want to be the one you go to for everything.”

When he finishes, his chest is heaving a little, practically spieling without taking a moment for air. Despite the strength he collected to say all of that out loud, he was still nervous and looked away from you as he did it. He’s making eye contact now though, and he’s freaking the fuck out because he can’t read you one bit.

You aren’t saying anything, just staring at him with your lips parted, and he thinks that's tenfold more frightening than if you were to yell and slap him in the face. Each second that passes in complete silence has his hands clamming up and his heart racing faster. He realizes how close he’s standing to you and takes a step back, and then another, then another, until he’s grabbing his things and scrambling to get out of your apartment. 

You hate him. That has to be it. You see him as a brother more than anything else and he just ruined it all. 

But the moment he steps foot into the hallway, you’re calling after him desperately. 

“Younghoon, wait!”

Your voice, laced with emotion, has him halting in place. He turns around to see you standing in the threshold of your door, eyes welled with tears. He’s only ever seen you cry when you're sad, when you’re heartbroken, and he prays to whatever higher being exists that he didn’t do just that to you. (He tries to ignore how gorgeous you look even when crying.)

“I— You can’t just say all of that and run away!” You’re full on bawling now and it has his eyes widening. “You’re so stupid, you know that? I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen and you lent me your hoodie inside of the movie theater when I said I was cold. You’ve always cared so deeply for me, so unconditionally. How could I not fall for you? You made it so hard not to.”

Younghoon is stunned. He had no idea you felt the same because you’ve been so good at hiding your feelings from him unless you chose to show him something. “Why did you date all those guys then?”

“To make you jealous, you idiot,” you sniffle, laughing at his obliviousness. “You’re such a guy; it’s endearing.”

He pouts at your low-key insult, but it doesn’t really upset him. In fact, he feels like he’s soaring right now. Your feelings are mutual and it’s as if all is well in the world. He closes the space between you once again, lifting his arm to swipe away your tears. You nuzzle into his palm instinctively and he’s sure he’s a puddle on the ground.

“Can— Can I kiss you?” He braves himself to ask, searching your features for any indication that you didn’t want this. You nod, your own hand covering his. The sparkle in your eyes is more than enough confirmation for him and so he leans in.

When your lips meet, Younghoon wonders if he did something heroic in a past life. He feels a pleasant buzz all the way to the tips of his fingers. It’s everything he’s dreamed of. 

You’re everything he’s dreamed of.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.