#idk man I wrote this at like. midnight

[hurdy-girly]

[flamingplay]

.

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

fully capable of giving up and never trying to do to anything ever but I don’t. And I think that’s pretty fucking impressive of me actually

constantly “trying my best” and sometimes (a lot of times) that means sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor because I couldn’t get myself to make my bed but at least I put the pillowcase on my pillow. I still did something. Every single week I tell myself that this is the week I do better and if I’m not very much mistaken I’ve been getting steadily worse. But I’m still trying. I still make my cute little lists and get highlighters to color code everything. At least I’m still trying

[koqabear]

(Un)Professional

♫: te pongo mal, Kali Uchis

“When Soobin struck up the proposition to be friends with benefits, he did it under the guise of remaining single and focusing on his music, adamant on keeping things “professional”— god forbid anyone else tries to get with you though, because maybe he didn’t really mean it when he told you no strings attached.”

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: fwb to ???, pwp, kinda angst, smut, rockstar!au

Word count: 4.5K

warnings: soobin is actually kinda mean and toxic but they have their little redemption arc idk TT… barely edited sorry

smut warnings: mean/hard dom! soobin, sub!mc, mc is kinda bratty, so also brat tamer soobin hehe, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, (pretty, baby, etc.) possessiveness, jealousy, degrading, thigh riding, dry humping, breast play, edging, marking, biting, oral (f. rec.), fingering, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dumbification, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: this is a mini series that was made simply because i am an indecisive loser. don’t ask why i was listening to reggaeton for a rockstar au, it just happened 😭 also i wrote all these parts after midnight bc that’s the only time i was able to write i guess— in other words… don’t expect too much from this. 

Soobin doesn’t do relationships. 

There’s no room for something as fragile as that in his life, at least not when he’s traveling to a new state every day for his tours— the last thing Soobin would ever do is fuck up what he already has just for something as fickle as love. 

However, he is a man with needs— needs that are gladly fulfilled by you, his pretty best friend that always travels with them. 

He’s known you long enough to have struck up this arrangement confidently; knowing there would be no strings attached, not able to form any feelings for someone he’s been content being just friends with for— well, forever. 

So this— his pounding heart, his brows that furrow together with frustration, his hands that grip his microphone a little tighter— is definitely new. 

There is no logical reason as to why he should be feeling like this; there’s no logical explanation as to why it’s been such an eyesore to watch Yeonjun interact with you the whole night, watching the way the man not so subtly sends winks and coy smiles in your direction, Soobin’s lips being bitten at as he watches the way you merely smile cutely in response. 

You don’t even act this way with him; every time you’ve come to their shows, you’ve always made it a point to act normal whenever Soobin comes around— just enough excitement to make you seem like a fan, but not enough to make it seem like you know him— you’ve learned this the hard way.

“Tone it down a bit next time, yeah?” Soobin told you once, as you laid in his hotel bed and surfed through the tv channels with droopy eyes, “If we’re gonna keep doing this, we should be professional about it.”

His words garnered a massive roll of your eyes— what the fuck did he even mean by that? It’s a concert, of course you had to seem excited— but it seems as though you took his comment to heart, watching the way your excitement dies down the moment Soobin approaches your side. 

No one’s watching you— no one cares about what faces you make or what you say when Soobin stands before you, but the thought of him telling you to keep it professional pisses you off so much that you decide to show him just how good of an actress you are; the difference of reactions is almost incredible, and you take in the way Soobin’s eyes narrow at the sight of you. 

There’s no reason he should get mad— after all, there’s nothing between you. 

Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently, because as you watch Soobin leave with one last glance at you, you can’t help but wish that he was just a bit mad. 

The two of you distract yourselves in your own ways; Soobin tries not to visit your section for the rest of the night, and you try to get the attention of the rest of the members in response— and the boys, surprised to see your excited attitude when they come around, are more than happy to oblige— and if the fans noticed that Soobin seemed to be in a bad mood for part of the show, well, that’s on him.

You feel a bit more tired than usual by the time the concert ends— you’re not sure why, but you find yourself trudging backstage because of that; maybe you should just go to the hotel instead of congratulating the boys for their show like you usually do. 

“Oh, hey ___!” Yeonjun spots you before you can turn on your heels and exit; you’re immediately putting on a bright smile as the said man throws an arm around you, still in his encore outfit as he drags you along the halls and undoubtedly to where the rest of the members are, “What’d you think of the concert? It was good huh?”

“As always,” you smile, nudging Yeonjun softly as he clearly waits for you to continue, “You were great out there, your energy was insane.”

“Why thank you,” he purrs, leaning in and watching as you scoff at him playfully, “Watching you enjoy yourself practically gave me all the energy I needed.”

You don’t find yourself surprised by his comment; Yeonjun is always like this, his flirty and suggestive behavior nothing out of the ordinary as you simply scold him to get out of your face— you’re so caught up in bickering with the man that you don’t notice the heated stare of another, brows twitching at the way you laugh and play along with Yeonjun.

After a moment though, you feel it— your head is turning before you can really process it, and you’re meeting eyes with Soobin, who looks… well, pissed off.

Before you can get a good look at his face, he’s standing abruptly; taking long strides to where you are, your heart beginning to pound at the sight of him slowing to a stop next to you. 

“Meet me outside.” His voice is gruff and on edge as he whispers the words lowly to you, walking off without another word as you simply turn to watch— because of course he wouldn’t try to get Yeonjun off you or outwardly ask for your attention, choosing instead to relay you a quiet message before he’s off, regardless of the way everyone sends him a confused look as they watch him leave. 

“He looks mad,” Yeonjun hums, watching as you shrug his arm off gently, “Gonna try to talk to him?”

You sigh, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands grab at the hem of your shirt anxiously. 

“Yeah,” you say, then you’re off, barely able to turn the corner once you’ve exited before you’re harshly pulled by none other than Soobin.

“Ow— what the fuck—!” Soobin’s hold on your wrist is bruising as he pushes you into the room next door, a changing room that’s not meant to hold multiple people as he simply locks the door behind him and pushes you against the wall; he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he approaches you— the light that comes through the frosted window on the door becomes the only thing that allows you to see Soobin’s frustrated expression. 

“Had fun flirting with the others?” He asks, his lips so close that you’re able to feel the puff of his breath as he huffs in frustration— the room is so small as you press yourself against the wall, feeling as though Soobin is filling your senses and making you dizzy, “Was that your little way to try and get my attention? Because it fucking worked, you poor little thing.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, pressing a hand against Soobin’s chest as you feel him try to swoop in to kiss you, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes along your skin, “I’m friends with the others too, you know.”

“Have you always been this friendly with them? Hmm?” he asks, slotting a knee between your legs as you’re left to look up at him speechlessly, “What, gonna try to fuck them next?” 

“Dude, what’s your fucking problem!” you hiss, punctuating your words with a punch to his chest as you glare at him, not lost upon the fact that his thigh is pressed firmly against your cunt, your skirt fanning along his leg and hiding the way he’s flexing and pushing it against you.

“And if I wanted to, then what?” you ask, pretending as though you haven’t given in to the way Soobin’s hands are guiding your hips, making you grind against him as he feels the way you become wet by his actions, “What’ll you do, get jealous? Try to stop me? That wouldn’t be very professional of you— I might as well ask Yeonjun if he’s free after this.”

“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” He says, a hand coming up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head toward him, “I’m not letting any other bitch get with you, touching what’s mine.”

It’s just his arrogance and possessiveness talking again— at least that’s what you tell yourself, failing to hold back your weak whimper as you roll your hips against him, feeling him press against your hip and rut his hard cock against you slowly. 

“I’m not fucking yours,” you grit out, your words muffled as you try to speak through the hold that Soobin still has on you, “The only reason why we’re still friends is so you can get a good fuck, don’t lie—”

Soobin is kissing you before you can finish your sentence— if he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now, his teeth clashing against yours as he kisses you roughly and without control, a mess of spit as he bites down on your lip, drinking in your pained moan before he’s slipping his tongue in to get a taste.

He’s noticed the way your hips have begun to move erratically; your hands are gripping tightly at his shirt, probably stretching it out as you continue to moan into his mouth, a hand guiding your movements as he flexes and presses his thigh firmer against you, his free hand letting go of your face to slip under your shirt and get access to your breasts as he begins to roll and pinch your nipples between his fingers. 

“Do you like it when I treat you like this?” he asks breathlessly, finally pulling away to watch the way a string of saliva continues to connect you— the sight is filthy and has your brows furrowing as you bite your swollen lips in hopes to muffle your sounds, “Like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy for me to use after my shows? A good little thing to take my stress out on?”

The pleasure is beginning to build up— there’s a tight knot in your stomach, making your brain go foggy as you feel the way your clit rubs against Soobin’s thigh every time you angle your hips a certain way, feeling as you soak your panties and his sweats the longer you rut against him.

Soobin simply watches you with a small smile; his eyes are lidded as he leans back, eyes glued to the way you roll your hips against him, weak whines becoming louder and more frantic as you begin to pull at his shirt with wide, teary eyes. 

But before you can finally cum, he pulls away. You’re whining softly at the loss, hitting his chest petulantly as you curse at him under your breath— before you can land another hit, he grabs your wrists, freezing you entirely as he sends you a sly look, leaning in so he can whisper in your ear.

“You’ll let me fuck you, right? You can always go to someone else if you need to cum,” he says, waiting for your response as he begins to kiss and suck at the spot just under your ear, knowing how sensitive you are as he feels the way you attempt to curl into yourself.

“Fuck you,” you whine out, attempting to shake his hold off you, only to fail— he simply laughs softly, sinking his teeth into the marked flesh as he listens to the yelp you let out. 

“I’m trying,” he huffs out, finally pulling away as he sends you a childish grin, “Now be good and turn around for me, okay sweet thing?”

The nickname catches you so off guard that you don’t protest the way Soobin turns you around without another word, your cheek pressed against the wall and your hands held behind your back as you continue to curse at him quietly— and judging by the way Soobin simply laughs softly, he’s definitely enjoying himself, shameless as ever as you listen to the sounds of shifting behind you.

You hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as you feel him push your panties aside, his tip brushing against your entrance— swiping at your leaking slit to gather your wetness, clearly teasing you as he takes in the way you try to push back against him, letting out a soft please as you feel his tip sink into you slightly, feeling the way you stretch around him before he’s pulling back out.

“Please? Why are you begging for me, baby?” he asks, slowly beginning to push in as he watches you rest your forehead against the wall, letting out a shaky sigh at the stretch, “I’m not here for you— you can go to another one of your toys if you’re looking for someone to worship you.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything as you feel him bottom out inside you— no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation, you can never get used to it, the size of him enough to have your eyes rolling back as you feel his tip prod at your cervix, hips flush against your ass as he begins to grind softly into you. 

It’s not enough— not for you, and certainly not for him, though he refuses to give you the pleasure of fucking you stupid so soon as he watches instead the way you begin to squirm, wanting more as you hang your head and try to fuck yourself against him— all attempts are quickly stopped as Soobin uses a hand to still your movement, firm on your waist and forcing you back against the wall as the other continues to bind your hands, pressing your fists against the small of your back and watching with a sly smile as you begin to arch in response. 

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks softly, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck, continuing his slow and agonizing pace, “Usually you’re so loud I have to keep a hand on your mouth.”

You refuse to give into him— refuse to let him hear what he wants, ignoring the ache between your legs and the fire in your stomach that just begs to be put out— but the way you’re leaking around Soobin’s length and clenching around him is giving you away, and it’s enough to have you turning away from him in hopes that he won’t be able to read your expression. 

This proves to be harder than you expected; Soobin’s hand has let go of your waist in favor to play with your clit, nimble fingers circling and pinching the bud as he begins to thrust shallowly, listening to the way you try to swallow your sounds and keep your eyes shut at the feeling— it isn’t long before he’s building you up again, taking in the way your legs shake and you begin to push back against him subconsciously, giving away just how needy you are as your fists tighten. 

You’re close, so fucking close, maybe if you stay quiet Soobin won’t notice— but, for a man who insists you two aren’t anything, he’s eerily aware of the way your body gets when you’re about to cum— meaning, all his movement immediately stops the moment you’re about to tumble over the edge, bottoming out inside you and laughing mockingly as he listens to the broken sound you let out. 

“Fuck, I’m so tired from today’s show,” Soobin groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder, beginning his slow, shallow thrusts again after a moment, “You don’t mind if I take it slow tonight, do you?”

You say nothing— you have yet to say anything that would irritate or please Soobin, and that in itself is enough to egg him on— because even if you refuse to talk, the way your body trembles from his touch and you bite your lips to suppress sounds is enough to tell him all he needs to know. 

The way you clench around Soobin when he begins to play with your clit almost has him cumming— he has to concentrate on not doing so as he takes in the weak whine you let out, your previous orgasms being built up once more as you let out a shaky sigh, listening to the wet sounds that come from the way Soobin fucks you. 

You’re trying so hard to remain neutral as he winds you up— but god, he knows you like the back of his hand, his hips rutting and rolling into you as he does everything to make you go insane, already feeling your high creep up on your from how up-tight your body is. 

“Feels good?” He asks, using your hands as leverage as he pulls you back into him for a particularly harsh thrust— the suddenness of it has you moaning loudly, your lips immediately pressing together as you feel your face grow hot— Soobin’s cocky laugh is both annoying and hot and you hate yourself for feeling that way. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he grins, picking up his pace as he watches the way you begin to break, weak moans and whines leaving you from how harshly he thrusts his cock into you, “I’ll do all the work, just stand there and look pretty, okay?”

You can feel your high approaching— it’s intense and fast, and you’re barely able to process the way your mouth falls open as you begin to chase the feeling, ready to fall over the edge and cream all over Soobin’s cock when—-

Like an absolute jerk, he pulls out. 

“You know what?” he says, talking more to himself than anything as he turns you back around and tucks himself back in, your back colliding with the wall behind you as your breath hitches, watching as he falls to his knees and sends you an innocent look, “I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby— fuck, I can’t help myself, I’ll be quick.”

Soobin is never like this— you’ve only ever experienced quickies backstage, so to say that you’re surprised to see the man dragging things out here is an understatement, letting out a shaky sigh as he throws your leg over his shoulder and scoots closer to you, burying himself under your skirt without hesitation. 

You’re practically dripping on the floor— it’s even worse when his fingers begin to prod at your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench wildly at the feeling and your hips thrust toward the sensation; Soobin’s tongue licks at your clit teasingly, taking his time to trace circles around it as he finally sinks his fingers inside you, curling them and pressing against all your sensitive spots as he takes in the way you squirm above him. 

Soobin’s face is practically suffocated by your cunt— you’re not sure how long he does this for, but he proceeds to bring you close to orgasm only to pull away a few more times, listening to the way you begin to cry and plead a bit more with each one. 

At some point— your fifth ruined orgasm, you think you’ve lost count— you find yourself pulling at his hair and begging, the words stuttered out through hiccups as you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks, pleading Soobin to let you cum as you grind your pussy along his face, feeling his tongue dip to your entrance before he’s back to teasing your clit, laughing softly at the sound before he finally emerges from under your skirt— his face is shiny and flushed as he looks up at you, sending you a grin that only has you pouting even more. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, feigning concern as he begins to run his hands along your thighs, waiting patiently for you to respond as he begins trailing kisses up your legs, hearing your soft sniffles as he reaches your inner thighs, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Soobin,” you whine, shutting your eyes as you feel his swollen lips leave opened-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, already soaked with your arousal as he licks it up, only to begin biting and sucking at the area leisurely, “Soobin please—please let me cum, wanna cum so bad, please.”

The sound of your begging is welcomed to his ears— he looks up at you through his lashes, sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the filthy way he continues to mark your thighs, ignoring your soft whines that others will see them, please binnie…

“Others will see them?” he repeats, clenching his jaw at the way you nod frantically, a clear concern in your eyes— slowly, he stands, hooking your leg over his waist as he presses himself against you, hissing softly at the way you immediately soak through his sweats, “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.”

“But… we shouldn’t— you said we need to keep this hidden…” His words are nothing but confusing— you’re sure it reads on your face, because Soobin is aligning his cock with your entrance once more, chuckling softly at your expression before he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Did I? Well, I don’t wanna hide it anymore,” he says, eyes lidded and filled with need as he sinks himself slowly into you; your eyes are threatening to flutter shut at the sensation, only to be stopped at the feeling of Soobin cupping your chin, telling you softly look at me. before he finally bottoms out.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, and you’re more than ready to respond with another mean comment before he continues, “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“W…what—?” your words are being cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you again, a hand coming up to grab his shoulder and your leg pulling him in closer in fear of having your orgasm ruined again— Soobin simply huffs, his hands going to hold onto your hips to fuck into you better, indulging in your fucked out face and dazed eyes as he smiles softly; slowly, he’s leaning in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 

“‘m so fucking stupid for starting all this,” he laughs softly, holding back a moan at the way you clench around him, your nails digging into your shoulder slightly, “Told myself I’d never catch any feelings like this— fuck, look at me now…”

“Just wanna keep you for myself— maybe I’m being selfish but… fuck,” you think you’re getting the gist of what he means— your free hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair as you close the gap between the two of you, hoping that you’re not misinterpreting his words as you feel him fuck you faster, setting a rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open, so wound up from tonight that you think your legs might give out any moment now. 

“Soobin,” you whine out, pulling at his hair and shirt as you begin bucking your hips at him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock as you whine, “Please let me cum— please please please, need it so bad, just wanna cum, please?”

The way you’re whining and begging is more than enough to Soobin; he’s gripping your hips and fucking you harder, eyes widening slightly at the way your sounds increase in volume, too fucked dumb to even realize.

“Shit,” Soobin grits out, planting his hand on your mouth and telling you to quiet down, “You were really holding back, huh? There’s my girl, all loud and pretty for me.”

He’s cooing softly at the way tears well up in your eyes and spill promptly after; running over his skin, biting at his lip to suppress sounds of his own as he feels the way you become impossibly tight around him.

“You gonna cum? Pretty doll just wants to cream my cock, finally had enough of me using you, right?” The way you’re nodding mindlessly only spurs Soobin on, insanely turned on by the way you’ve become fucked stupid, “Come on baby, show me how good you feel, been waiting patiently to cum, such a perfect doll.”

He’s cooing softly and talking you through your orgasm— you don’t even realize that your legs have given out, and Soobin’s hands are flying to support you as he holds you up, pressing himself fully against you and grinding his hips into you as your head falls on his shoulder; your sounds are muffled by the fabric of his hoodie as you bury your head further into him, pressed entirely against the wall and left to Soobin’s mercy as you allow him to continue rutting into you slowly.

“Binnie,” you whine out, right next to his ears as you begin to speak quietly to him, “Want you to cum inside, fill me up please? Never wanted any other guys but you, just wanna feel you cum inside, please…”

Your soft pleas set Soobin off immediately— his hips are bucking into you so roughly that your body is jolting with every thrust, his head burying itself in your neck as he lets out a soft groan— you then feel the way he fills you up, warm cum staying inside from the way he continues to fuck you well after he’s calmed down, his shuddering breaths on your skin enough to know that how sensitive he is.

For a moment, you just stay there; pressed against the wall as Soobin slowly pulls his cock out of you, feeling the way his release begins to drip out from how much he filled you— your chest is heaving against his as you attempt to catch your breath, legs still weak as you take advantage of Soobin’s strength to help hold you up. 

Soobin’s arms wrap around your waist; he’s pulling you in even closer, your bodies melting together as he nuzzles his head into your neck, inhaling slowly as your own hesitant hands come up to embrace Soobin.

“Sorry I was so horrible to you,” he says, littering kisses on the exposed skin of your neck before he continues, “But I did mean that whole thing about catching feelings— the timing’s horrible, I know— but….”

You hum softly, as though lost in thought, “How long have you felt like this?”

“I… this whole time,” he admits, his face growing hotter at the confession, “I was just in denial half the time we did this whole thing— god, why do you think I suggested it in the first place…?”

You hold back a laugh— Soobin however, is nervous at your lack of reaction, pulling away from his hiding place to analyze your expression.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird? I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m really sorry if you felt uncomfortable with anything I did today, I seriously don’t know what I was thinking—“

You’re cutting him off with a kiss— but it’s gentle this time, and you really take a moment to feel his soft lips as you feel him smile against you, his cheeks warm under your touch as you finally pull away. 

“Soobin,” you say softly, smiling fondly at the way he lets out a soft hmm? in response, “I feel the same. But yeah, you were a fucking jerk with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, cupping your face as he sports the look of a kicked puppy, eyes filled with nothing but guilt, “I’m sorry, I seriously never meant to go that far, I should’ve just asked you out like a normal person instead of being so mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting softly as his eyes widen softly, seemingly afraid of what you might say; you simply peck at his lips chastely, unable to hold back your laugh at his expression, “I kinda liked it.”

Your words are horribly confusing to Soobin— but hey, at least he knows how you feel. 

[muli-wam]

Someone Better

Pairings: Suguru x Fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

Summary: after finding out that your longtime crush was dating your bestfriend, you seek suguru for comfort.

Cw: kinda toxic reader? Slight naoya x reader except he doesnt reciprocate and hes barely mentioned. Idk tho.. p in v, unprotected sex (don't do that mkay?) Dirty talkkk, suguru is kinda shy and slightly pussy drunk. (: Cursing, use of y/n like- once or twice.lmk if I missed anything!

A/n: im tired i wrote this in like 3 hours non stop. Anyways I hope you enjoyyyy and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE REBLOG (: 💕

・˙♡｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀♡・˙｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀.♡•`°

You shuffle your feet in disappointment, clenching your fists while picking at the skin on your thumbs.  The loud music pounded through your ears, mixed with the smell of cheap alcohol and sex. You felt goosebumps on your skin, as you dashed outside the house into the cool autumn air or the night.

Why were you so sad? You already knew he didn't like you back, and you also knew he was fucking your best friend. Although, in the process of figuring that out, you fell for someone else.

Someone better.

But that someone was not at the forefront of your mind at the moment, because seeing Naoya walk into the party with your best friend on his arm whispering cheesy compliments in her ear while she looked at you with guilt and sadness sent a shocking wave of dizziness and disappointment through your body.

You not only lost your best friend, but you also felt humiliated for even sending a glance in that asshole's direction.

Naoya was a dick. Everyone knew that. But you tend to fall for those kinds of guys, for some reason your brain shuts down and you turn into a lovesick loser in those types of situations.

If you were more confident, more bold, and not a people pleaser, you would have said something. Maybe you would "accidentally" spill a drink on them or told their friend group that you heard Naoya singing "Tia Tamara" at the top of his lungs in his car when you had walked past the other day, or maybe you would have-

Let's be real. You would have done absolutely nothing.

So instead of sulking, you found yourself dragging your feet across the rough asphalt to the door of the only man you felt safe around: Suguru.

Suguru was new to your guys' university, having just transferred 3 months ago, but in the span of those three months he somehow won your heart over with his charm and annoyingly good looks.

He made your heart beat faster everytime he looked in your direction. You felt like you were floating in the clouds every time you smelled his scent when he got close to you, like those people in the laundry detergent ads.

You had never initiated anything with him though because part of you still liked Naoya, but after this night, you knew that you needed Suguru more than anything.

You knock on his door, suddenly feeling a wave of uncertainty. What if he wasn't home? There were no cars in the driveway and he's probably asleep, I mean it's almost midnight already.

Your thoughts get interrupted by Suguru opening the door, wearing nothing but a white tank top and black sweats. You feel your insides instantly melt at his choice of clothing.

"Y-y/n?" He takes in your appearance, mascara slightly smudged beneath your eyes, making you look more tired than you already were, but good nonetheless. You have on a cropped tank top with a skimpy skirt, leather jacket and black boots, making it obvious that you were at a party.

You looked hot.

But Suguru was too much of a gentleman to say that out loud to you. Instead, he invites you in, tripping over his words in the process. He leads you to his room, where you sit on the foot of his bed, taking in his room. Band posters splayed all over the walls, a baseball sitting randomly on his desk, books on the floor, and his pillows and blankets everywhere. 

His room smelled musky and woody with a hint of cinnamon, creating a relaxing aroma around you.

"S-sorry, I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming," he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck while paying around his room.

You honestly just want him to come over here and kiss you but he seems like a nervous wreck.

"Do you need anything? Water? Food? I just ordered pizza a few hours ago, it might be cold but I could heat it up." He continues ranting.

"Or we could do something else, I could put on a movie or-"

"Suguru," you cut him off.

"Yeah?" He stops his pacing and turns his attention towards you.

"Are you gonna help me take off my clothes or…" you slowly slip off your jacket while looking him deep in the eyes.

"Oh…OH! Shit! Yeah yeah i- uh," he strides over to stand in between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at you hesitantly.

"You sure?"

You nod in confirmation, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Fuuuck," he whispers under his breath as he brings his hand up to pull at your lower lip.

"C'mere," he breathes out before gently nudging you to lay on your back as he kisses you passionately, forcing you to crawl backwards on the bed until you reach the top of the mattress.

He tasted like fall leaves on a cold day, a mixture of spices and sweetness all bundled up together.

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your skull, stroking his thumb across your cheek, causing you to blush as he kissed you. His other hand was holding himself up on the bed as he situated his hips in between your parted legs.

You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, playing with his raven locks and pulling him impossibly closer to you as a means to deepen the kiss.

He slowly grinds his hips into you, rubbing his growing bulge onto your core, making you moan desperately into the kiss.

His movements are unrushed, as if you two had all the time in the world. Your head starts spinning wildly and you're sure you're going to pass out with how dizzy you feel. Your brain is put into a euphoric haze, not wanting to pull away from him ever.

"Mhm," he moans into your mouth at a particularly harsh grind, his half hard cock rubbing up against your clit.

He trails his hands down to creep under your shirt, fondling your chest in his hands as his ruts become more desperate.

"Fuck," you curse as he pulls away slightly to give you both a chance to breath, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips.

You look into his half lidded eyes, violet orbs clouded with lust.

"Is it hot in here or is it just me?" Suguru says breathlessly while chuckling.

You giggle lightly while playfully hitting his bicep. Suguru rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and finally catching his breath.

"You still haven't taken off my clothes y'know…" you sigh, playing with the hem of his tank top.

"So it is getting hot in here," he smirks down at you before sitting up on his heels, running his hands up and down your hips.

"Suguru," you whined, slowly getting impatient.

"Okay, okay, I hear ya," Suguru pulls off your top, and unclasps your bra with one hand. Impressive.

He then moves down to your skirt, sensually pulling it down along with your panties, kissing, and sucking at your belly in the process until they are nothing but a pile of discarded clothing on the floor, along with your top and jacket.

He then crawls off the bed to take off his tank top and sweats, staring at you hungrily like a predator ready to capture its prey.

You hug yourself with your arms from the cold air hitting your skin, instantly missing the warmth his body provided you.

"Mmm y'ready?" Suguru slowly strokes his cock while looking at you, letting out breathless moans on every stroke.

"Please Sugu," you cry out to him, already fed up with the teasing.

"Fuuck I wana taste you first but I need to be in your pussy right now." He groans.

You moan out desperately as suguru climbs on top of you again, lining his hard cock up to your entrance.

"Next time m'gonna make you come on my face until your fucking crying," He growls before pushing his tip past your tight hole, making you both moan in pleasure.

"Oh my fucking god, your tight," Suguru bottoms out in your pussy, feeling you pulse and clench around him, arching your back into him whilst moaning into his neck, dragging your manicured nails down his back.

He starts thrusting, starting off slow but progressively fucking into you with desperation and pure need.

"F-uuhhck you feel so good," he rolls his hips into you while bringing his head down to suck at your neglected tits, sending you into a frenzy of moans and cries of his name.

"Yeaaah scream my name, baby, let everyone know who fucks you this good," he lets out a small whimper against your tit before deciding to move to your neck to suppress any other whines or whimpers he might let out.

"Fuck suguruuu I'm gonna cumm," you cry out, kissing at his neck as your body moves up and down against the sheets.

Suguru brings his hand down to play with your clit, causing your body to shake as you feel your release rapidly approaching.

"Y'gonna cum? yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Suguru coos, looking you in the eyes with nothing but lust and affection.

You feel your hight approach, moans and whimpers tumbling from your lips as you begin to fall off the edge, but your high gets abruptly cut off as suguru pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, sliding his cock between you ass before slipping back into your cunt and beginning to drill into your hole again.

Your frustrations slowly dissipate as your pleasure gets doubled from the new position as suguru hits your sweet stop with every. Single. Thrust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you moan after every rough pound of his hips, the sound of skin smacking reverberating throughout the room along with the wet squelches of your pussy being torn to pieces by sugurus length.

His thrusts get sloppier and his moans get more whiny as he feels his high approach, you following close after.

"Y'gonna cum baby?" He brings his body down to whisper in your ear as he continues to fuck you. You moan louder as you feel your high approaching harder than before due to his change in angles.

"Suguru, I'm close," you squeal.

"Lets cum together, yeahhh- ohhhh fuckk m'cumming," Sugurus thrusts get harder and sloppier as he cums, his body shaking against yours as his vision goes white. You follow almost immediately after, your brain turns to mush and your throat feels like it's closing up from how hard you're cumming.

"Oh my gosh baby- FUCK," suguru closes his eyes and slowly ruts against you, riding out both of your highs, as his breathing slows.

You turn your head to look at the  digital clock, the time reading 1:45 am. You guys had been at it for almost 2 hours, the majority of that time being suguru trying to eat your face off.

You both rest on top of eachother, not willing to move just yet, basking in each others warmth.

Eventually, Suguru rolls off of you and holds you in his arms as you two drift off to sleep.

For the next day and a half  is spent fucking eachother senseless, as well as suguru fulfilling his promise in eating you out until you cry. Which you did…

・˙♡｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀♡・˙｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀.♡•`°

It was a cool Sunday night on that same weekend, you and Suguru were sitting on his front porch, eating a bunch of junk food including your favorite chips, drinks and candy, as well as his.

You were sitting in silence for a few minutes when Suguru speaks up:

"I've really enjoyed this weekend with you, y'know," he grabs a gummy worm biting off half while looking into the distance.

"I've really enjoyed this weekend with you too, Suguru," you turn to look at him and he meets your gaze.

I was thinking next week maybe we could go out for dinner or something. I don't know," he mutters nervously.

"Like a date?" You smile fondly at the thought of going on a date with Suguru. You had always thought you would end up with Naoya but you think Suguru might have fucked and any and every lingering feeling you had for that excuse of a man.

"Yeah… like a date," Suguru smiles at you with love sick eyes, hoping you would say yes.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Suguru," you started.

"As long as it's pasta," you point out teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah we'll have as much pasta as your little heart desires," he laughs..

"M'kay soooo it's a date?"

"It's a date," he sighs fondly.

・˙♡｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀♡・˙｀｡◍°❁.°•༚｀.♡•`°

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Bruce Wayne Masterlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS:

Neon Gift 🌺❤️‍🔥(Robert Pattinson! Batman) the character is really angsty emokid with eyeliner riding a motorbike and soundtrack is Nirvana, so maybe something dark and heavy and of course smutty alone time with Batman? Neon colors appreciated😍😍😍

Boots & Coat ❤️‍🔥 May I request some hot quickie in his Batcave, i believe he would enjoy if his gf surprise him in one of the gloomy days! Maybe some coat and boots with nothing underneath it or idk 👀👀

DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠

Stupid Man 🌺🌩️Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future

Library Make-Out🌺❤️‍🔥

Bittersweet Tea 🌩️(post break up theme)

Midnight Visits🌺

[gingerjolover]

what about naomi and reader in a new years eve party and bumping into reader ex and them nomi get jealousy jealosy also love u gingy ♡

we're gonna hc this bitch if thats okay w you baby!

because listen ok, nomi "doesn't get jealous" (they do) they get "protective" (we let them think whatever helps them sleep at night)

there's a couple of different scenarios that i think would lend how naomi would act bumping into your ex

if you and naomi have been together for a loooong time and its some random ex that you dated in highschool or college, there might be a hint of jealousy

like they hug you a little too long or only look at you and not naomi, which naomi is like "it's just rude babe, im not jealous," their hand sticking in the back pocket of your jeans or rubbing the hem of your skirt as they pull you into them, leaning against a wall

if you haven't been dating that long, a more recent ex might trigger a diff reaction, naomi might get a little guard dog on them

like if they came up and hugged you and were just being really touchy and affectionate, naomi would be like "and I'm Naomi, THEIR PARTNER," and like shake their hand but have a killer grip

would also just be sooooo touchy all night, like nomi is already affectionate but when there's someone in the room that ALSO knows how hard you love and how deeply you can fall, nuh uh, not gonna fly for nomi

the only time i think naomi would be like not super jealous and even laugh a little at an attempt is if you're a bi/pan queenie or you've dated a man in the past and they come up to you like "wow you look so good, how have you been?" naomi is squaring UP BRO!

def pulls a "i can fuck you better than him, and you know it," and your jaw drops for a sec because "naomi quiet down!"

"babydoll im packing rn do i need to prove it to you?" they ask with a smirk, like leaning down and pressing searing kisses to your cheeks

it just so happens that said ex is watching from a corner, a drink in his hand

"I- well-..." you're stammering because naomi jealous is usually like ha ha and you guys joke about it and then it's done (bc your devotion to them and your relationship is obvious and naomi relishes in it and returns it with the same enthusiasm)

but naomi is cupping your cheek, running their fingers through your hair placing chaste kisses on your hairline being like "c'mon bunny let's go find an empty room before midnight."

NAOMI DEF WINKS AT THEM AS THEY'RE LEADING YOU UPSTAIRS IDK WHAT ANYONE SAYS

anyways...

i didn't do a full fic but i totally can if people are interested🫶🏻

edit!

i have to mention i think naomi's vibe at parties is similar to how i wrote them in the Halloween blurb where they take care of soft!gf

naomi is just always scanning the room and like they def have fun and party but they are always keeping an eye on you

which is why if they are w you when ex approaches its one thing

but naomi def DOES NOT like it when they are across the room and sees any of the above approach

maybe not so much the friendly ex

but the rest for sure naomi has an eye out because someone is moving in on their girl and they do not like that one bit

[loverhymeswith]

hello🙈 i’ve been thinking about a mini story based on “exile” by taylor swift with one tommy shelby… former lovers. shelby sees her at a party with a new beau and gets jealous (“i can see you starin honey, like he’s just your understudy, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me”) it’s a back and forth dialogue type song IDK i think it would be slay

Exile

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: A familiar figure stirs up feelings you'd rather not face

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Mention of drugs.

A/N: Thank you Anon! I love this song and it fits Tommy SO well. Also, I wrote this on a beach. No idea how the setting ended up being NYE. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer for the beta read and the ending ❤️

I've added my existing taglist but please note this is not part of the Let’s Be Alone Together universe.

Him

It's fast approaching midnight at The Savoy Hotel. The dawning of the new year is almost within reach. Tommy Shelby drains his glass of champagne, wishing for whiskey instead as he slowly scans the room.

Tickets for the party tonight had been akin to gold dust, a chance to rub shoulders with the upper echelons of London's elite. But Tommy would rather be anywhere else in the world. 

Preferably, Birmingham.

He'd take a bottle of homemade gin, tucked away in the quiet familiarity of Charlie's yard in a heartbeat over this stuffy champagne-fueled ballroom. But no one ever said success was easy.

Tommy had come here tonight for one reason and one reason alone. If his plans to move into the world of politics had any chance of coming to fruition, he would need to mingle with the privileged crowd. To learn their weakness. Their darkest secrets. To take advantage of the liquor loosening their lips.

He's managed to withstand maybe a handful of hours at best before growing tired of all the posturing and arrogance, the not-so-subtle self-aggrandising and the congratulatory back slaps.

Looking for a way out but willing to settle for a distraction, his gaze continues to drift along the sea of tuxedos and expensive dresses.

Unexpectedly, he falters.

These days, it takes a lot to catch Tommy Shelby off guard - between France and his more recent ventures, it would be fair to assume he had developed nerves of steel - but off guard is exactly how he feels when his attention lands on the beautiful woman standing by the bar.

He'd recognise her anywhere. Sometimes, he thinks he searches for her in his dreams. 

Tommy feels the muscles in his jaw clench before he's able to compose himself. A foolish sign of weakness that he can’t afford to display. Not here. 

But it's difficult. A test of his usually unwavering resolve. Because she's not alone. 

There's a man. Younger than Tommy; tall, dark-haired, and slim, the old-money practically oozing off him. Any closer and Tommy would be able to smell it.

Tommy grabs another glass of too-sweet champagne from a passing waiter. Something to occupy his hands, and just in time. Old-Money's arms are wrapped around the woman's body, a possessive gesture and one he recognises well.

Once upon a time, she spent her nights in Tommy’s arms.

Five whole years might have passed - evidently long enough for her tastes to change - but it feels more like five minutes since she walked out of Small Heath and out of his life, a hastily scrawled note declaring she'd had enough.

Three simple sentences. One for each year they had been together. At the time, Tommy had replayed the words over and over until they no longer held any meaning, but liquor and bloodshed had long since turned those memories to slush.

It all boiled down to his plans for the future. Her fear of the potential enemies and danger which those plans might beget.

Whoever said that love would conquer all?

Tommy doesn't taste the sparkling wine as he tips the glass back, draining it in one mouthful. 

The champagne just won't do. He needs something stronger to take the edge off, but his path to the bar is blocked.

Biding his time, Tommy watches the couple. In fact, despite the sourness growing in the back of his throat, he finds himself unable to look away.

Old-Money leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispers something that even Tommy’s lip-reading skills cannot decipher. 

What is plain to see, however, is her lack of amusement. She tenses, discomfort evident in the clench of her jaw and the tightness of her shoulders. Her laughter, when it comes, is forced, never reaching her eyes.

A lightning bolt of unfiltered rage burns through Tommy’s veins, dulling his remaining senses like Arthur’s cocaine, but he quickly tempers it down. It’s not his problem. She's not his problem. 

She's not his to defend.

Not anymore.

Her

It's almost midnight. Ever since your arrival at The Savoy, your attention has been drifting to the clock on the wall. Waiting for the bells to chime and free you from this misery.

The party had been his idea, your date for the evening clearly operating under the assumption that money makes a man more attractive. An assumption which couldn't be further removed from the truth.

Though The Savoy might be the hottest ticket in town, everything about tonight makes you miss Birmingham - Small Heath, to be precise. New Year's Eve at The Garrison. The excitement. The unpredictability. 

The Peaky Blinders.

Your stomach involuntarily flips at the intrusive thought. You've come too far now to be thinking about the Shelby brothers. All memories pertaining to your former life belong firmly in the past.

Ignoring another pompous comment from your date, you glance up from your drink, desperate for an escape. Perhaps you can slip away in time to avoid the awkward but obligatory midnight kiss.

That's when you see him. 

A ghost - a demon - from your past, seemingly conjured into existence by the power of your thoughts alone.

The very same piercing blue eyes that have long haunted your dreams now stare you down, unblinking, from across the room. His full lips are drawn into a hard line.

Thomas Shelby.

Despite your brain knowing far better, your traitorous heart still flutters.

He looks good. Too good. 

Unfairly good.

The expensive dark suit is sinfully cut to his powerful body and his once-severe haircut has been allowed to somewhat grow out. 

Clearly, he's come a long way since the days of bruised and bloody knuckles. In the presence of polite society, he looks like he belongs.

The last five years may have been kind to your former fiancé, but with a start, the realisation dawns that the same can't be said of you.

Because five years later you still haven't recovered from the incurable affliction of loving Tommy Shelby.

Despite what some might say, you hadn't walked into the relationship blind. You'd known the head of the Shelby family for long enough to accept that a life together would be full of surprises, and not all of them good. But for love, you'd given him half a dozen chances.

Honesty. 

That's all you'd ever wanted. To be treated as his equal. His partner. To not be kept in the dark about decisions which could potentially put you both in harm's way.

Yet still he'd schemed and plotted. Twisted and manipulated. Deceived. He had told you it wasn't lying. That for your own safety, he was simply withholding the truth. As if that somehow made it ok.

Inevitably, after three years together, your patience reached its limit. Making good on a promise to yourself, you'd left, starting a new life for yourself in the capital, far away from the demons of Watery Lane. 

But you'd been foolish to believe that any amount of miles could repair the damage done to your heart. Arguably, damage of your own making.

His name has followed you like an ever-present shadow. His handsome picture staring back at you from newspaper articles. Even in black and white, those beautiful eyes just added insult to injury.

And now he's here in the flesh.

Tommy's stare is unwavering, but he makes no move to come over. Still, it's only a matter of time before he seeks you out. After your cowardly way of leaving, it's easy to imagine he has some choice words for you, but you’re not ready to speak to him. Not here, where manners and decorum are all the rage.

Willing yourself to break eye contact, you notice a side door to your left. Relief washes over you. Freedom or at least a small reprieve. Anything is preferable to this form of slow torture.

Him

Tommy watches her leave - a recurring theme, it would seem - her hurried exit presumably on account of his unexpected presence here tonight. She definitely spotted him amidst the crowd and she did not look pleased.

He should let her go. She's not his problem. She's in his past.

Isn't she?

A minute passes before, not entirely of his own accord, Tommy finds himself following in her footsteps. He's always been inexplicably drawn to her. Apparently, even heartbreak isn't enough to change that.

When he finds her in the lobby, her back is turned but she whips around as he murmurs her name.

"Tommy."

The earlier surprise he saw flash across her delicate features has been replaced by a  carefully rehearsed indifference. One he recognises all too well. 

She's at pains to pretend his presence isn't affecting her. A feeling to which he can certainly relate.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight," she adds when he doesn't immediately respond. "I didn't think this kind of thing was your scene."

He doesn't miss the accusation in her tone. 

What she really means is why are you here?

Slowly, Tommy inclines his head, lest she notice the falter in his gaze. Impossibly, she's even more beautiful than he remembers. It's surely a cruel twist of fate that brings her here tonight. Just when things were looking up for him. Just when he thought he'd put the past to rest.

"Likewise," he agrees. 

"Business or pleasure?" She wonders aloud before scanning the lobby, keenly on the lookout for another escape route.

The words, driven by a lingering hurt, fly from his lips before he can check himself, his attention not so subtly shifting to the blonde woman entering the lobby. "There's no reason it can't be both."

Her

Of course, he followed you. It's a problem you could really do without. You're walking a thin line just by talking to him. Experience tells you there's only two ways this will play out. 

Wondering whether there's any possibility of getting away unscathed, you offer him a polite smile and gesture towards the blonde woman now loitering in the corner. "Well, I'll leave you to your… pleasure."

He studies you carefully, his sharp features set into a cool mask of apathy, but you recognise the hurt hidden behind his icy eyes. 

The hurt which you caused.

"I'd tell you the same, except I doubt your friend knows how to pleasure a woman. You looked miserable back there." 

Despite the sentiment, there's no trace of concern in his cruel words.

"My choice of date for the evening isn't up for debate, Thomas," you tell him curtly, despite silently agreeing with his observation.

"Nothing ever is with you, is it?" he muses, his lips slightly pursing.

And there it is. 

Clearly, he's not going to let you get away until he has aired his grievances. 

Perhaps you owe him that courtesy at the very least.

Dropping your own mask of indifference, you take a step towards him and take his warm hand. To your surprise, he doesn't resist.

"I had to leave, Tommy. You were never going to turn things around. You were never going to change. But for what it's worth, I am sorry about leaving the way I did. I should have been better. I should have been braver."

Tommy shakes his head, keeping his tightly guarded emotions at bay. "You left without warning. You never even heard me out."

"Without warning? God, Tommy. How can you stand there and say that? How could you possibly have missed it? I left you so many signs."

Tommy looks away, his eyes rapidly searching for something just out of sight. The only indication he's feeling anything at all. "I guess I never learnt to read your mind."

"You never learnt to listen," you fire back. "Or communicate at all for that matter. Would it have killed you to be honest with me? To tell me what you had planned?"

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "I was trying to keep you safe."

The realisation that he's never going to change his tune stings more than it should. You drop his hand. "I wish I could believe that." 

The truth, in your eyes, is that he never trusted you. He's never trusted anyone. How could you be expected to give your heart over to a man who would never let you into his own?

There's a beat of silence. Enough time for you to regret letting this conversation play out for so long. Nothing good can come from digging up the past. You should go your separate ways before any further irreparable damage is done.

"Was it worth it?" Tommy asks finally, a bite of frustration slipping through his calm facade. "Leaving everything behind for this?" He gestures around. "Are you happier now?"

"Yes," you lie, but your resolve is rapidly weakening under the intensity of his blue gaze.

The door to the ballroom swings open and a small gathering of revellers spills into the lobby, saving you from admitting the very thing you've been afraid of. 

That leaving Birmingham had been a mistake. 

Tommy reaches for your arm, tugging you away from the crowd and into a recess by the cloakroom. As a result, the two of you have infinitely closed the distance.

His chest, broad and still so inviting, is now inches from your own; his calloused hand is still wrapped firmly around your wrist, his thumb pressed against your pulse point.

Can he feel how fast your heart races?

"For all your talk of honesty, you won't face the truth yourself, will you?" He sighs lightly, something like disappointment coating his words.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You scoff, feigning ignorance as a last resort.

Before he can respond, a loud cheer erupts from within the ballroom, saving you once again.

"That's midnight," you murmur just as Tommy glances down at his elegant gold pocket watch.

"Midnight," he agrees, his eyes flicking back up to your own. "Happy New Year."

You stare at him for a long moment, taking stock of his defining features. Long, dark eyelashes, the kind that would ordinarily be wasted on a man - but not Tommy; razor sharp cheekbones and a jawline to match. Crystalline blue eyes you could so easily drown in.

Almost imperceptibly, he shifts closer, large hands finding your waist with ease.

"Do you still believe in tradition?" He wonders, but it's a rhetorical question. You both know he doesn't need an answer.

Your last sensible thought before he leans in to kiss you: God damn Tommy Shelby and those ocean eyes.

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal @shynovelist @amberpanda99 @globetrotter28 @dragonsondragons @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁*𝐓𝐂𝐇 ; 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋? 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋.

summary: getting to y/n, the hard part is coming only now. how much can the new girl fit into the trio?

wordcount: 3.209k (seems too short idk)

tw: swearing, y/n is a little bit bitchy (but only if it's needed, we aren't pick mes don't worry girlies), woo-jin is a tease, terrible written chat messages, gun-woo is still a cutie and i love him sooo much.

author's note: i made a spotify playlist for this fanfic, like it and listen to it if you want babies

part 1 playlist link!!

gun-woo tossed and turned after he got into bed, kissing his mother goodnight. turn after turn, sigh after sigh, his eyes constantly returned to the paper that y/n gave him. he wanted to talk to her, to continue their conversation about boxing, martial arts and other things like her job. she seemed so cool with her tattoos, and could absolutely imagine her as she poured drink after drink, mixing cocktails and counting money with that fast, bill-flipping technique, collecting receipts from the counter, shouting at rude customers as the neon lights changed on her skin. she also guessed that he wasn’t a drinker –he wasn’t as cool as woo-jin, yeah… and he also wasn't a man of words. as gun-woo thought these things, he realized that he weighed his chances for y/n. no, he can’t do that! y/n surely has a boyfriend, or many guys who want to be her boyfriend, who can tell jokes… and tell their thoughts about things… damn, again.

turning on his side, grabbing his phone and the paper, he typed in the number. gun-woo hoped that the girl wasn’t giving them a faux number, as they upset her at the beginning. but the words she wrote, that they’re gonna figure out these things… maybe he should just trust his luck. but what to write to y/n? 

are you awake? 

no, that’s so oblivious that he wants to talk to her. 

did you get home safe?

another no… too emotional. looking at y/n, she sure doesn't like guys who drool over her and looking for her safety and needs. gun-woo thought about calling woo-jin to ask him about this, woo-jin seemed like a guy who was experienced, but after the first fiasco in the restaurant, gun-woo came to the decision that woo-jin can’t know about this. and after that, he would scold him for waking him up at midnight. 

gun-woo

are you sure about this? that you’re in? it’s gunwoo.

 

maybe this will do it. gun-woo didn’t think much, he just sent. after seeing the delivered bubble, he instantly knew that this was a bad idea, y/n was surely asleep. and after that, it’s rude to question someone after they made a decision or a promise so heavy like in this situation. gun-woo wanted to delete the message, but before unlocking the phone, he saw that y/n sent him a message. his heartbeat got a little faster, and his pupils narrowed –maybe from her, maybe from the sudden light. 

y/n

are you doubting me now, gun-woo? 

gun-woo

no, of course not! it’s just dangerous. 

y/n

you think i don't know danger? i meet danger every night when i don’t serve the customers who are drunk as skunks.

gun-woo smiled. on the screen he saw that the girl began to type again, but she stopped, and waited when he began to write the answer.  

gun-woo

aren’t you tired? working and training all day is surely exhausting. 

y/n

only a little. but why aren't you sleeping? i thought i’m the only one who was awake. 

he sighed. 

gun-woo

just thinking about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. 

y/n

be cool, i’m not gonna fight if hyeon-ju is okay. 

gun-woo

no, not about that! about catching those men who are behind smile capital. but that’s nice from you.

y/n

oh, yeah. well, don’t worry. i saw your friend on the tv, he’s good, and you’re good too. and not to brag, but i’m good too. really good. 

smiling, gun-woo turned on his back. it was more comfortable to type this way. he imagined as y/n laid in bed the same as him. maybe she was smiling too, at least he hoped. 

gun-woo

i believe that. otherwise, hyeon-ju wouldn't want to talk to you. 

he typed again.

gun-woo

don’t tell this back to woo-jin, but when you went out, he said he felt himself in life danger when you grabbed his wrist. 

y/n

hahaha

this one is funny. 

i just wanted to be ready for possible harassment. a couple weeks ago, some creep was walking on those streets, a girl who i know called the police but they weren't catched. 

gun-woo

i would never hurt people who are weaker than me.

y/n

i don’t even talk about you, dummy. but that’s good to know. i can protect myself if needed. 

gun-woo

i know, just in case. you can never know.

y/n

you are nice, gun-woo.

watch out for yourself, people these days are using this for no good. 

gun-woo

i’m going to, thanks y/n. my diligence and good heart are my two mainstays. 

y/n

it was good talking to you, gun-woo, but now i’m going to sleep. it’s nearly two am. 

gun-woo checked the time. damn, it really was that late? he needs to sleep, too. but it was so nice to talk to her. maybe tomorrow, they could talk about it further. he really inquired himself about who y/n was, and what she did, even if they just met today. 

gun-woo

you are right, i’m going too. 

goodnight, y/n!

y/n

good night to you too, gun-woo. 

don’t be late tomorrow!

locking his phone, gun-woo looked out of the window that was beside his bed, and after a couple of moments, he let the idiot smile spread on his lips, just as the warmth under his skin. he didn’t know why it caused him so much giddiness to talk with her. but he sure gotta hide it tomorrow. anyway, yang jae-myeong was still on the streets, stealing IDs and making more and more money to smile capital, and the director of smile capital was still beating off little people with his toy-soldiers, tying roguish loans. they're gonna catch him, and then move onto the next step. 

with y/n.

[ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 ]

tomorrow noon, gun-woo walked to the place they came to an agreement. he didn’t write to y/n, he had to help his mother and didn't want to seem clingy, but he hoped that the girl would be there. seeing woo-jin on the corner, the other also looked across the crossway, but there was no one who seemed like y/n. 

“i hope she comes, otherwise we can’t go to hyeon-ju. it would be terrible” woo-jin said instead of saying hello, but gun-woo had to agree with him. on the other hand, she wouldn't chat with her if she wasn’t gonna meet them, would she? 

“she sure gonna come, she said to me yesterday that this is a personal business to her.” at his words, woo-jin began to smirk, nudging his shoulder. 

“really? and where did she say this? between the bedsheets?” gun-woo rolled his eyes. 

“woo-jin, give me a break! there’s nothing between us, why would there be any? we only met yesterday, she’s nice, that’s it.”

“well, you wasn't the one who almost broke your wrist and got beaten up.” 

“stop dramatizing, woo. she’s just afraid because there were some creeps on the streets a couple weeks ago.” he replied, looking constantly in every direction. 

“yeah, yeah… wait, what? how do you know this?” he asked, and gun-woo suddenly felt exposed. 

“it was… it was in the news, you didn’t read it? or… social media, instagram?” gun-woo tried to cover the truth, but woo-jin totally saw through his façade. 

“you have her phone number, don’t you? you got it, and used it for yourself too!” he spoke up, louder this time, gun-woo didn't want other people to look at them, like in the restaurant when woo-jin got to know that he is an ex-marine just like the other, and was afraid that y/n accidentally gonna hear it, too. 

“no, not! i have her number, but only for hyeon-ju! after all, this was our task too!” 

and in the worst possible moment, gun-woo’s phone pinged. 

“who is it?” woo-jin asked, tilting his head. warmth began to spread on gun-woo’s neck, as always when he was nervous and flustered. somehow, he knew that woo-jin knew who it was. 

“i don't know, maybe hyeon-ju? how would i know?” he responded, searching for his phone in his pocket. his heartbeat increased a little bit. a little bit? i’m not gonna be a liar, gun-woo’s heartbeat increased from sea level to the tokyo tower in one second.

 

y/n

gonna be there in minutes. my boss is a literal asshole.

gun-woo’s brain had to figure out the last word, because in the next moment woo-jin took away his phone. trying to get it, gun-woo leant for it, but he couldn’t get the phone from his friend as he turned his back. gun-woo got around him to take his phone back. 

“you not only seduce the new girl, but you are a liar too!” woo-jin 'tsked with his teeth and slapped his shoulder. gun-woo locked the phone. 

“no, i’m not! seriously, woo-jin, just get off from the topic, and–” before he could continue, his friend pointed in front of them. there she was, y/n. wearing baggy jeans and a sweater, she bidded with her hand before she crossed the crosswalk. in the last moments, gun-woo turned to woo-jin, trying to mutter.

“don’t say any word to her about this, okay?” 

“about what?” y/n asked, tucking away her earphones. gun-woo looked at him, and then looked at woo-jin. 

“about… that we are going to hyeon-ju. so the two of you can talk. is that okay?” he asked, y/n nodded, and waited for them to show the way. woo-jin wiggled his eyebrows, gun-woo rolled his eyes. this is gonna be a long day. 

arriving at the library, they rarely talked, but on the threshold of the gates, y/n stopped them. taking off the mask, she looked at the two. 

“seriously, before i go in… does hyeon-ju have any obsession or craze?” 

“why?” woo-jin asked. y/n sighed, and began to talk. 

“because i don’t work with crazy people! my boss is crazy enough, and i won’t gonna die or get seriously injured because somebody gets itchy in its mind!”

“don’t worry, y/n, hyeon-ju doesn’t have any obsession. maybe she’s grumpy, but… only a little bit.” 

“not so little bit”, woo-jin murmured, but before y/n could make reservations, gun-woo shook his head. 

“i think… you’re gonna get along with her. it’s gonna be fine. please, trust us enough to have a talk with her.” 

y/n looked in his eyes, then looked away. breathing in and out, she shrugged her shoulders. 

“whatever, i have to see her with my own eyes to make a decision. please, lead me in.” 

with much pleasure, gun-woo opened the door. 

[ 𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ]

strangely, gun-woo’s personality was calming to her. she just got done with her work –listing the drinks they need to drink as she was the so-called little boss of the bar she worked in– when gun-woo wrote to her, but it lit up her night. y/n thought about it, about him at night, from the second she got home, as she underdressed, showered, washed her teeth, removed her makeup, cleaned her face, creamed her tattoos, and got into her pajamas, to the second she got into bed. she had many experiences with guys, and although on the outside, her co-workers always saw her with another guy, in reality, she never did anything with anyone. everybody wanted to be much better than their usual selves on the internet, or for a little while she served them drinks, bragging about cars, chicks and parties, but in the meantime, y/n knew that all of this is a monstrous humbug. for a while, she stopped meeting or dating anyone because of this –disappointed about the people she was working with, but also sad because which good, handsome and good-hearted guy would want a girl who has tattoos, fights in gyms and works in a bar? the guys she wanted to date could never introduce her to their families, and the ones she knew could easily give her away to human traffickers in exchange for some drugs. but, maybe these things were called consequences, isn't it?

she also didn’t know why she told gun-woo about her job and stuff. maybe, it was just good to talk to somebody without bad intentions, with someone who didn’t want to seem more than he already was. when she told him she thought he’s not a drinker, he wasn’t beating the table and calling her out to drink, and when she suggested that he wanted to protect her, he also didn’t want to be a macho man. maybe it was the whole guy’s simplicity that got her –or maybe his cute eyes and the way his eyes scrunched when he smiled. 

following the guys, she took off her jacket and mask, looking around. a simple bookstore, nothing else –but at the same time, it was everything that her father told her about. she was interested in hyeon-ju, she worked with girls constantly in the bar, but in a life-danger situation… it’s gonna be different. 

“are you two here?” it was surely the other girl, and then y/n saw her: they were almost the same height, showing off two entirely different worlds. hyeon-ju’s hair was cool, actually, but y/n could never imagine herself with a hair short like this; she liked to twirl and style it. hyeon-ju seemed to be clear and determined – y/n liked it. 

“yeah, and we brought y/n with ourselves!” woo-jin sang, hyeon-ju sat down, and pointed to the chair across the short table. y/n looked at the guys behind her, then looked at the girl. 

“you want me to sit there?” she asked, scratching behind her ear. 

“yes, please.” y/n nodded. she won’t do anything without a ‘please’, especially not in the beginning. giving the respect for each part of the deal was the most important deal. 

“okay… so, i heard from these two that you are working on dragging smile capital down. i’ll answer everything you ask, but i have questions too.” she began. hyeon-ju nodded. 

“i heard about you from my granddad’s phone calls. do you or your family know my grandfather?” 

y/n shaked a little bit. that night’s memories were sharp, like she was there again. 

“yes, my father. he… knows sir choi. and his friends too.” 

“how did your father get into connection with my grandfather?” 

“sorry, but i don’t answer personal questions. but i can tell you, that my father is not an enemy, and it isn't about the loans.”

“what is that you can’t tell? did something happen to your father?” y/n furrowed her eyebrows at this question. it made her a little bit uncomfortable. 

“why, what did happen to your father if you live with your granddad now?” 

hyeon-ju looked at the guys. a pregnant silence fell on the atmosphere of the bookstore. 

“i should have asked my granddad about you. maybe he would tell me that you are mocking and taunting people.” 

y/n scoffed. brushing the tattoos on her fingers, she looked into the girl’s eyes again. she felt that the guys beside them were nervous, but she didn’t care. gun-woo was fine, woo-jin was okay, but this girl… this girl was bitter. 

“i taunt you because i feel cornered. anyway, why does my personal intentions matter if i want to help? my purpose is to kill that fucker who’s behind all of that smile capital shit. if our purposes match, i think we should work together.” y/n leaned forward. 

she didn’t want to sell her every secret. why would she need it? it was much deeper than she could just tell it in the beginning. and maybe, if being a little bitch because she doesn’t tell her deepest, darkest memories, then so be it. maybe, another time she’s gonna tell them… if they survive, or if they can make a deal. 

hyeon-ju sat in silence, looking at the guys, then looking at y/n. furrowing her brows, the girl sighed. 

“if i say that we are going to stalk a man from smile capital tonight, would you come?” she asked. y/n thinked a little bit, scratching her chin with her nails. 

“i think so. my tuesdays are always free.” 

“okay then, i have to make sure that you’re in, and you're not gonna back out if things get serious.”

“wait, wait, wait, what is the plan? because, i guess the three of you already talked about it. if it’s just stalking and some sneaking, then i’m in. but if it’s some dead-beating or weapon kinda shit, then i’m out.”

“what difference does it make?” woo-jin asked, getting a glare from hyeon-ju. the three looked at y/n, who picked at her nails, shrugging her shoulders again. 

“i guess, in the beginning, maybe we couldn’t work out together. and if we get into life-threatening danger immediately, we die right then and there.” 

hyeon-ju nodded. maybe they finally agreed on something.  

“okay, then it’s just sneaking and following around. there’s a man, yang jae-myeong, who took a loan from my grandfather. i got to follow him, but i want the three of you to go after him. watch what and how they do things, how many they are, if they use weapons, or anything. that’s all. if you’re as good as my grandfather said on the phone, then we can talk about more things later. deal?” 

hyeon-ju offered her hand to y/n to shake it. y/n thought about the risks: if they get caught by this yang jae-myeong, then, possibly this girl’s further plans’ gonna unravel. because a girl like this, with dark clothes and leather jacket, she sure has a bigger plan than these hide and seek and tag-games. swallowing, y/n looked at gun-woo. he hadn’t had a mask on, his lips were full, and a massive band aid was on the left side of his face. his eyes had faith and determination. 

nevermind. if she can’t avenge what happened to her family, what happened in the past, then at least she’s going to work on a better future. 

reaching for hyeon-ju’s hand, she shook it with a little, devilish smile. 

“deal.” 

[ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 ]

after the ‘meeting’, woo-jin, gun-woo and y/n went to eat somewhere. woo-jin talked on his phone with someone, while gun-woo and y/n got into a conversation. 

“do you think i’m always gonna have a shitty relationship with hyeon-ju ?” y/n asked, lamenting about the conversation. gun-woo looked at her. 

“no, hyeon-ju’s just a little bit… harsh. but don’t be angry at her, please.” 

the girl shook her head,

“i’m not angry at her, don’t worry. just became a little bit pissed about her questions. you know, the personal ones.” 

“is it… really that bad? that bad that sometimes… you don't even want to think about it?” gun-woo asked. y/n looked away, pulling the hem of her sweater on the back of her hands. pulling up her eyebrows, then letting them fall, the right corner of her lips twitched. 

“yeah. but… if we get along well together… maybe i’m gonna tell you. but for now, i gotta make it right with hyeon-ju. it wouldn’t be good if we get into a fight in the middle of a fight, isn't it?” 

gun-woo laughed. deep inside, he wanted to know what happened to y/n, and wanted to comfort her better than anything. but that’s for later. 

“no, that wouldn't be good. remember, no claws, okay?” 

now y/n was the one who laughed, as they turned down on the street. 

"yeah, i know. only strokes."

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

author's note: thanks for the likes on the first part girlies, here's the second part. if work lets me, i'm gonna post every 2-3 days, i think that's okay. and like the spotify playlist!! i often gonna add new songs. bye babes

taglist: @fairyhani @castleninja

(ask for tag in taglist in comment or here)

[slapjacq]

Alright I’m hopping on my soapbox again

First and foremost this is not pointed at anyone. I’m not bitching and moaning, and if it comes off that way, I’m not trying to come off that way. I just wanted to vomit some words about something that a post I saw pointed out and the more I’ve thought about it, the more I see and agree with what it says.

We joke a lot about Arthur Lester being a pathetic wet cat of a man. And yes, at points he definitely is. But I feel like we kind of play off how much trauma this man just carries around like it’s a fanny pack.

This goes for a lot of other protagonists/characters I see being talked about in this manner btw. Like they all have such deep rooted issues due to the things they’ve experienced. And like at the end of the day, if anybody else went through even of the fraction of the hardships that these characters face, they’d be a fucking mess too. Probably even in an even worse state. The greatest thing about these characters are their capacity to endure and push forward, and I feel like that sort of sentiment gets pushed to the side. It’s a weird dichotomy of if we see them after they’ve endured, we’re more likely to think of them as tough, hardened individuals. But if we see them while they are enduring, the idea of them being as strong as they are is almost ignored in a way.

Which also feels like a reflection of some of us not being able to congratulate ourselves for pulling ourselves through our issues but hoo boy thats a different conversation altogether and is to be had between one and one’s therapist or trusted individual.

And again for clarification I’m not saying like “don’t joke about this 😤😫”. Sometimes we see ourselves in these characters and just joke about it (which there is nothing wrong with). When we are reminded of our issues and experiences, for some of us, our first responses is to make fun of it. I’m just as guilty of it as any other person. And idk, something about it just irks me in a type of way I can’t put my finger on. Idk food for thought.

Which leads me to say I love John Doe in Malevolent so, so, so, so, so much. He’s Arthur’s biggest fan, but like in the way a Chicagoan is a fan of their baseball teams.

(Edit: if there’s a bunch of grammatical errors, I’m aware and trying to scrub them best I can. I wrote this hungover and coming home from work at like midnight.)

[indianamoonshine]

adonis & rainwater | joel miller x reader | one shot

summary: joel says he can’t do this anymore. you don’t believe him. and that’s how you ended up on his porch during a thunderstorm.

rating: m. this is filthy.

warnings: piv, oral (female receiving), d*rty talk, kind of soft. fluff. loss of virginity. age-gap (reader is in her twenties, joel in his early fifties!). when i wrote this, i was thinking of TLOU 2 joel. i love pedro but pixel joel is forever my baby.

word count: idk!! it’s long.

His name is called out in the midnight summer rain. It’s the discombobulated voice of loss; a woman he never imagined he’d mourn since meeting in the saloon last autumn. He never suspected he’d wrestle with the innermost parts of his shadowed conscience after her — of pleading with himself to touch those softer parts he’d hidden away for over twenty years.

It’s you. Your voice.

He’s strumming at his guitar on the porch, mind tangled with thoughts of you ever since your argument earlier this evening; ever since he said with stoney face that he couldn’t do it anymore. You’re too precious — too angelic — for his affection. He’d scald you with hellfire; infect you with something that didn’t rot in the runners or the clickers. He’d prodded parts of human nature that should’ve died out hundreds of thousands of years ago.

He hadn’t told you this, though. He’d been vague — sparing details of the sentiments he tried so hard to keep buried. Fatherhood was different; it was an ancient response.

This was different.

It doesn’t belong in the human timeline anymore. You don’t need to have feelings for someone to survive. You didn’t even need to have attachments to make the contributions to repopulating. Sex was just technical these days — didn’t require a degree of intimacy that it used to. Romance had no meaning anymore — no aspirations or benefactions to society.

That’s what he told himself — kept telling himself. And he continued to long after he left your house a couple of streets over, ignoring the tugging at his chest and the whispers of a man who lived over two decades prior: “Turn around, jackass.”

But it wasn’t his voice he was hearing now. The moment he hears his name his attention is pulled away in a reflex he lost sleep over at night. When he finds you at the end of his porch steps, doused in rainwater, he lets out a sigh of relief. You’re still in the white linen dress you wore earlier this evening except now you’re soaked to the bone. He can see the outline of your body through the fabric, of the bra and panties he hadn’t yet the chance of sliding off you with shaking fingers. The two of you hadn’t gone that far yet; he hates it.

He couldn’t take that risk. Not with the idea of loosing you.

He stands at the sight of you, abandoning his guitar.

“Petal!” he calls out. It’s the nickname he’d given you a few months prior and it stings like barbed wire when he says it. “What the hell are ya doin’? Get out of the rain! You’re gonna catch your death!”

You shake your head. “No!” you shout through the storm. A chain of lightning appears over your head. “Not until you tell me the truth!”

The thunder rolls. It vibrates the skin on his bones.

“What the hell are you on about?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Say it, Joel! Say what you want to say!”

He runs a hand down his face. This can’t possibly work on him. It can’t. There’s no way you’re capable of scyring out the truth in him.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” he shouts over the thunder. “Now get in here, please! You’re soaked!”

Your pretty eyes well with tears. He can barely hear your voice over the storm. “You love me, Joel.”

A crack of lightning ignites the silence with electricity. He stares you down like he would an enemy. You’re not allowed to do this to him — to conjure these proclamations. Neither of you can afford his love. It’s toxic, rancid — the expiration date past due. He’d be tainting you.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You stand your ground firmly; you’re good at that — at stubbornness. You’ve gotten your way many times before because of it. Of course, it could’ve also been due to the uncomfortable truth you were now attempting to pry from him.

He…

“You. Love. Me.” you push.

The two of you stare at one another for a while. It’s a show of strength for the both of you. The shallow part of him wants to lie - to claim it wasn’t as serious as you’d hoped, that his time with you was nothing more than a passing fancy. He wants to protect you from himself - to shelter you from any of his misery and defeat, of his loss and his grief. You had no idea of the things he was capable of — of the things he’d done. The crimes against humanity that he had committed keep him up at night and beckon him into a blackness that was too hard to claw out of. He couldn’t pull you down with him.

But you were a lantern in that darkness. You’d witnessed his anger and carried his grief too. He’s watched in awe as you dusted the sadness from his shoulders, of sharing the burdens with him. He’d noticed the way you observed his complexities and then created something fruitful from them. You kissed the frown from his grimace and watched with smiling eyes as it faded from his mien.

He was reluctant to admit it.

You’d chipped away bleakness from him.

He watches as you allow yourself to be pelted of rain in a post-apocalyptic world; a reality where violence managed to flay underneath his muscles and bear its teeth in his form.

And still it loved you.

He loved you. Even his violence.

“Goddammit,” he grumbles.

He turns for the steps, ignoring an animalistic instinct to shut the door in your face. When he reaches for you, you gasp in the rain and shudder when he pulls you into his arms and grips your cheeks in one hand.

“I love you, goddamit.” He shakes you a little bit, watching as the tears fall from your eyes. “Are you happy now? Huh?”

You nod feebly in his grasp. “Only if you mean it.”

“You know I do,” he growls before kissing you.

—

It’s the kind of kiss you read in those paperback romances; the sparse library in town carried them. Your favorite was a western.

It had nothing on this.

Joel pulls you into him, hands gripping at your waist. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, kissing him with a fervor you hadn’t experienced before. His mouth opens, tongue shoving its way against yours, and you expected to hate it but don’t.

You haven’t french-kissed a man before.

He knows it - has talked about it with you. The two of you hadn’t been seeing each other for very long romantically - were just friends up until three months ago. He didn’t want to pressure you into anything but you were aware that a man like Joel Miller had needs. You tried so desperately to convince him you were longing for it - for giving him your everything - but he brushed off the idea.

Until one night he got a little handsy.

It was two days prior. The two of you were watching a film at his house. It was some kind of classic Joel had dug out from under dusty artifacts while out on patrol. His attention was on the film like a baby and a shiny thing until you laid your head against his lap.

The two of you kissed of course but only with closed mouth. You would’ve gone farther earlier but you were a pansy - too afraid to disappoint him and too expectant of loosing him. But that night the kiss began to get heated and his hands started to wander. And right as you opened your lips just slightly…

He pulled away.

After that night, he avoided you for over twenty-four hours until you finally cornered him at the community garden. While you expected there to be some tension, you hadn’t expected him to break things off with you a few hours later. His monotone voice and clipped edges punched a hole into your gut. But…

No. You saw through him.

Which is exactly why you came here in the pouring rain, insomnia coursing through your veins, and fury along with it. Joel Miller would not leave your side. You were a lot of things: a chicken, bad with guns, and the last person to ever survive in a world like this. But the greatest thing you were?

A hopeless romantic.

Which is how you knew Joel Miller had fallen in love with you exactly one month ago when he brushed his calloused thumb across your cheek and whispered, “Hey Petal. Pretty girl.”

You weren’t an idiot.

Neither was he.

Joel lifts you in his arms and you gasp against him, unaware that he was capable, but pleasantly surprised. The thunder grows louder, the rain heavy upon the sidewalk. The weather makes his natural scent more potent: a heady blend of a spice you can’t name, pine, and ash. You claw at his t-shirt; the patience within you is growing mighty thin.

“Joel,” you whisper against him.

He walks the two of you up the steps, one hand cradling your ass while he opens the screen door. It slams behind him with a loud bang, the sound of crackling lightning camouflaging the noise. Inside is warm, candlelight flickering against the windows. Joel prefers to save as much electricity as he can, especially at night. Maybe twenty-years of burning wax became something of a solace for him.

“Living room,” you gasp, breaking free from his kiss.

He looks puzzled, one hand splayed across your back. “What? Why?” He’s breathless, accent thick in the throes of pleasure.

You rub your nose against his, feeling the scar across the bridge of it. It’s Joel. “I’m impatient. I’m also very wet.”

Joel raises a brow.

You blush, realizing what that sounded like. Not that it mattered. “I don’t want to get your bed wet is what I mean.”

He chuckles darkly. “Babygirl, I plan to get it wet either way.”

—

He practically tosses you into his bed.

You giggle, bouncing slightly upon it, and stretch like a cat in sunshine. He takes a moment to admire your female form; the curves that show so beautifully under damp clothes, the way your eyes glitter in the candlelight, and the illumination of your skin with it.

If he hadn’t believed in a God before, he did now.

Joel’s been out of practice for a couple of years but he’s tried to convince himself it’s like riding a bike. He and Tommy had broached the subject rather drunkenly a few months ago at the saloon. Tommy claimed it was different since the world ended - more satisfying than it had been before, like tasting chocolate for the first time. Joel didn’t agree at all; sex for the past two decades had been almost clinical in nature, but maybe that’s because he was fucking women he didn’t have any emotional attachment to.

This…this was not void of sentiment.

The last woman he — well, made love with, he supposed — was Sarah’s mother. There was one night he and Tess had fooled around and that had been something but not even close. With Tess, he felt a sense of devotion - not passion. Not intimacy.

He goes for your neck, eating up the little moans you allow to slip from your plumped lips. His hands glide down your thighs until they reach the hem of your dress (the one you’d made on your own and he’d been so impressed by it). He lifts it over your shrugging form and finds the valleys of your body are just as divine as what he imagined.

The luxury of Jackson allowed your tummy to be softer than what he’d been used to all these years — it was unbelievably sexy. He hadn’t cared about it either way before but knowing you were well fed now brought him a sense of peace. He kisses down your sternum, unclasping the bra at your back, and almost fucking loses it when you throw it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, taking your breasts in each hand.

They’re soft against his calloused palms — smooth compared to every inch of him. He leans down to suckle the right, your nipple peaking gently against his tongue.

You whimper, arching into him.

A wicked — and treacherous — thought manifests. He imagines your tits swollen with milk, a child resting deep in your womb. He groans, wrapping his arms around your waist as he laps at each breast, silently entertaining the idea.

You grumble in frustration, pawing at his shoulders. “Your turn. I want…”

He releases you with a wet pop and then smirks a little in the night. A crack of lightning ignites outside.

—

You skipped all the frivolity.

There’d be time for that soon.

You just wanted him. Wanted the thick length of him between your legs, hot and heavy, and pulsing. When he stripped bare, your jaw almost hung open in shock at the size of him. You had a suspicion — hell, all the women in town did — but to see it now was…

God, it was almost too much.

It was…pretty, which you didn’t expect. It wasn’t like the ones you’d seen in medical books or in person at the quarantine zones. While it wasn’t pornographic, it certainly wasn’t disappointing. Joel was thick, a prominent vein running down the side, and flushed with red at the head. The length was more than adequate — so much that you did some quick calculations to yourself. That was supposed to fit inside of you?

Joel chuckles when you subconsciously lick your lips, leaned upon your elbows, and waiting with bated breath. He kisses your mouth closed and then your cheek before whispering, “Lie down, babygirl.”

You do, taking in a deep breath. You feel him rub at your slit with the head of it, teasing your fluttering hole, and gathering the slick you’d released.

“You ready?” He noses at your hairline.

You nod. “Yeah,” you breathe, nudging against him. “I’m ready.”

—

A vise.

(Vice.)

A vise in the sense that your insides envelope around his cock. You suck him in noisily, though hesitantly, and he groans with embarrassing volume. You whimper, shifting your hips, and it tickles down the base of his cock.

“Jesus, fuck.” He clenches the sheets in one hand, the thread stretching around his knuckles. The other hand palms the side of your neck.

“Oh, god. Joel.”

A vice in that your body was now a cathedral for his debauchery.

His hips still when he bottoms out, your pelvis against his. He can feel your fucking pulse. He’s not sure how he ever lived without this. Tommy was right.

You’re babbling sentences he can’t understand; it’s as though you’re speaking in tongues. Your neck arches against the mattress, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He hasn’t even moved yet.

He whispers your name — your given name. “I know, baby,” he groans, face falling into the crook of your neck. He begins to thrust shallowly. “I know.”

You bring your arm to cross your face, biting at your own flesh to keep from shouting. Joel wants to tear it away, to hear everything you can give him, but he’s far too busy trying to keep from coming. When his thrusts begin to speed up, you abandon all attempts of keeping silent.

It’s like an orchestra. Joel remembers Tchaikovsky. It reminds him of that; of canons betwixt strings and brass. The juxtaposition of shouts dedicated to pleasure and groans of ecstasy was the closest to nirvana he’s ever gotten. He can’t remember the last time he left his body for anything other than panic and fear.

He takes a hold of your hips, bowing you against him, and begins to thrust into you with a wild pace. “Jesus, this cunt is fucking perfect,” he growls.

“Joel, I think…” you start.

But your mewl is cut short. Joel feels a pressure building and then suddenly…

“Oh god,” you whine.

Joel looks down, hips still pistoning against yours.

He realizes you’ve just squirt, your cum dripping around his cock where it makes a sinful noise with each thrust. He growls, ripping himself from you, and dragging you to the edge of the mattress.

“Joel! What…”

Your protests are cut short when he drops to his knees, wraps your legs around his shoulders, and then presses his mouth against you.

“Oh. Oh…” you purr, hands tangling in your hair.

Din hums against you, the vibrations causing you to shiver and murmur his name. He laps up every drop of you; it’s a nectar sweeter than Georgia fuckin’ peaches. He moans, tongue weaving between your fucked out hole and your puffy lips.

He brings a hand to his cock.

—

He’s close. You know he is.

The feeling is incendiary. His tongue is warm and wet against your poor, swollen cunt. He is a salve, his expertise rinsing away the remains of your previous orgasm.

He grunts against you. You sense the grip he has on your hip begin to tense, the blood rising to the surface of your flesh. You grab his hand at your center and squeeze before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“On my pussy,” you beg in a whisper.

He growls, separating himself from you and craning his neck backwards. The veins throb against his skin, a flush creeping down into his collarbones. He’s never looked more beautiful than he has now.

An adonis with rain in his hair.

Joel comes with a broken grunt — something manly and full of testosterone — before a pearly wad of cum spurts upon the folds of your pussy. You whine at the vision, the sensation of it dripping down your sensitive lips almost enough to get you to come again.

When Joel’s finished, he kisses the skin of your thigh and tummy before reaching your mouth. Your taste lingers against his lips - something earthy and sweet and mixing with him.

The two of you exchange breath for a few moments, unabating in each other’s company. Your soul feels something like a specter; drawn out into the afterlife and existing in a patch of time frozen in his arms.

Joel cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. His furious kiss has reddened the skin and making them tender. He kisses them softly. Once. Twice.

You slide your hands up his broad chest, stopping at the sides of his neck, and massaging gently. He closes his eyes, relaxing into your touch.

“I knew you loved me,” you whisper in the darkness. The candles have burned out. The rain still falls.

And so does Joel.

[withjaejae]

Forever | KTH

Pairings: Ghost!Taehyung x Painter!reader

Its quite short so i'm not putting in a description.

Warnings: Tae is a ghost-ish spirit (idk), lonely lone loner reader, reader often mentions she feels nuts, unprotected sex (he's a ghost), oral sex m/f rec, mentions of death, masturbating, sleep paralysis-ish

I have no idea what I wrote. Enjoy.

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→

You live alone.

Surrounded by books.

A good neighborhood.

A few friends.

Your paint was your companion.

But nonetheless, you were alone.

Not lonely, just alone. Maybe a little lonely.

Parents long gone, only child, grandmother has passed on too. All you had was your paint.

You made thousands by selling them off online under a different name. Hence you survived. The only person who knew you painted was your old neighbor but even she has dementia.

You were alone.

Hopefully not forever.

Sure, you dated. Occasional one-night stands. But it was always somewhere else and never home. But its also been a year.

You were alone until you weren't.

You've been feeling it, someone was always watching. Someone or something is lurking behind you. You can feel their breath on your neck when you shower. You can see it in the mirror.

It should freak you out but whatever it is, its not hostile. Maybe it was your imagination. Maybe the years of being alone has finally taken its toll.

Or maybe in the nights that you touched yourself begging for someone to touch you. The faceless man you built in your mind to fuck you till you cum has finally come to life.

Or maybe its just the amount of porn you've been watching AND reading. Maybe. Yeah.

But tonight, it feels different. It feels humid inside the house, the AC is broken and you're definitely ovulating.

You hear your name being whispered down the hall, you turn to see a figure enter your room. You decided to ignore it and crack a window open.

You never feared death or ghosts, you didn't really feel anything after years of being alone. That's why the ghost haunting you now has definitely picked the wrong soul to feed on mainly because you didn't have one.

"Fuck." You wipe the sweat off your forehead. Its nearly midnight and the heat is not letting up.

You can't take it anymore. You walk towards your room, you turn off the lights and crack a window open just enough for air to come in.

You strip to nothing and lay above your duvet.

You close your eyes for a second.

"Good girl." You hear another whisper. Your eyes snap wide open to look around the room.

That surely did not come from your own brain.

"Hello?" You rest up on your elbows. "Whoever you are it isn't funny." You shout as if someone was there. "I'm going crazy."

A gush of cold wind comes through your window and it lulls you to sleep with dreams of a man fucking you into the sheets telling you how good you are.

"You look so fucking hot." A voice loud and clear wakes you up.

Your eyes snap open to see a man seated next to you, a man so handsome you could swear he's an angel. You couldn't move your limbs, is it because of the apparition before you or you just don't want to.

His hair jet black, tousled above his forehead, tiny moles under his eye, nose, cheek, and lip. He doesn't have a shirt on, if only you could move you could see he was naked below as well. But his eyes, they were pitch black, as if his entire eyeball was black.

"Why must you torture me like this, sweetheart." His hand rests on your cheek, his hand is cold. Very very cold. "A little more and we can finally be together. Only think of me."

You gasp and sit up as if you had been drowning.

It was a dream. A sleep paralysis? If so, it was a good one.

You glance at the clock on your bedside. 3:03AM, maybe it was a demon and not an angel?

You shake your head and try to go back to sleep, not before filling your fantasies of the man in your dreams.

"YN, are you okay?" Your friends who you meet up for occasional hikes waves a hand in front of you. "You've been zoning out all day."

For a week, the same person comes to you in your dreams. Begging you to think of him and only him and they keep on becoming vivid, they just sit there. Watching you, raking on every curve of your body. Last night, he was able to pick up a strand of your hair off your face and he was happy about it. He said something about resurrecting him with your own soul.

"YN!" She snaps her fingers again. "You don't look well, maybe you should sit this one out?" She puts a hand on your forehead. "You look like you're coming down with something."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling so great. Is it okay if I skip?" Your small group of friends agree. You get back in your car and head home where you wish to confront him.

The moment you step into the house you lock all doors, close the windows, shut the blinds and sit in your living room. You sit still and quiet, observing every corner of the house.

"Come out." Your voice was strong. "If you're real. Come out."

You think of ways to draw him out. He was much more... Solid on nights you were naked.

You believe he's an incubus. Or you could still also be losing your mind.

"Do you want me to strip?" As soon as the words come out of your mouth you lean your head back on the couch and close your eyes, groaning at how stupid you feel.

You really have lost your mind.

"Take it off." His voice a whisper.

This time, you don't open your eyes. Your mouth curls up in a smirk.

"I knew you were real." You whispered back and start kicking off your boots and shrug off your jacket. "Why can't I see you?" You ask as you slowly undo your pants. "It would feel better to have you touch me." You're officially insane.

Your eyes still closed, you take off your pants. Now you're left with your shirt and underwear.

"All of it." He sounds closer. You feel a breath on your right side and you turn your head. "Open your eyes."

"If I do, you'll vanish." You can feel coldness on your right as you take off your shirt and finally your underwear.

You flutter your eyes open and you were greeted with nothing. You thought you fell asleep but you really are naked.

"What am I even doing?" You frown at the pile of clothes on the floor.

A feeling starts creeping up your body, you lean back on the couch and open your legs. Your breathing heavy as if, its as if someone is starts kissing down your neck, then your chest, all the way down to your ankles then back up towards your core. You've tried ecstasy before, this is what it feels like. Horny starting from within.

Your hands grab onto the back of the couch, moaning because of something but you can feel it, you can feel him. Your legs feel like their locked in place, a tongue roaming over your pussy and finally inside. If someone saw you they'd think you were being possessed.

Maybe that's whats happening? But this feels real. Your moans uncontrollable anymore, you're cumming.

There's no denying that this is the best head of your lonesome life

You're cumming for fucking ghost.

You don't know when you closed your eyes but as soon as you open them, there he was. Naked before you. A man. Sitting on your ottoman, lips and chin glistening with your juices. Licking his lips as he locks gazes with you.

Despite your body still twitching from the very intense orgasm you slink down from the couch and crawl to him. He leans back on his palms. He was built, maybe he's a god.

You don't care if he's a ghost, a god, an angel, or a demon. What you care about right now is that if you don't have him in your mouth the next second you'd combust.

And so, in the next second, you took him in your mouth up until your throat. You didn't know you could deepthroat without gagging but you did. You fucking did and it feels so good for him. You look so perfect with your mouth filled with him.

"Fuck baby, finally." He throws his head back and lets you suck him off at your pace. "All those nights of teasing me, my love." He weaves a hand through your hair. "All those nights of making me watch you fuck yourself." He holds you in place as he thrusts up. "You were begging to get fucked." Thrust. "You made me crave for you." Tears were flowing freely from your eyes, you were out of breath and choking on his cock.

If this is how you die, you'd die happy.

"That's it, my love." You swallow arround his girth. "You're so perfect, so good, so fucking sexy." You never knew you had a praise kink until now. "Just a little more, my sweet." He groans and with one final thrust he comes down your throat.

You're definitely going to choke at this rate so you pull off him. His come still splurting over your face over your eyes.

The burn of his cum makes you wince and shut your eyes. You feel a warm cloth over your face and a kiss on your forehead.

"Who are you?" You ask as you feel him wipe over your eyes slowly.

"They used to call me Taehyung." You feel another kiss on your cheek.

"Why are you here?" The cloth gets pulled away and you open your eyes.

He's gone.

"Taehyung?" You look around the room. He vanished.

Unless, he wasn't really there. You try calling out for him again as you pick up your clothes. Nothing. Not even a whisper.

You sigh and accept that you have finally lost your mind. You'll be dead by the end of the month.

With a sorethroat you try to sleep off the mystery of Taehyung.

The next morning, you're up early. Very early. Popping a bottle of white wine, fresh cans of paint at 5am.

You play some jazz music in the background and let the music carry you. By the second glass you realize what you're painting.

His eyes, his captivating black eyes, its as if they held the universe, those black eyes that watched you take him in your mouth. The eyes that commanded you to keep going. Eyes that watched you every day and night as you go about your day.

Eyes that, unbeknownst to you, were watching you fill your third glass of wine as you paint him. Eyes watching you hum to the sound of the saxophone.

You can feel him somewhere.

"Taehyung?" You ask and look around the room. Your eyes pass over him and then back.

Can you see him? Before he could take a step you turn away and dive back into your painting.

"I don't know why, but I know you're here." You go into the details of his eyeballs. "I can feel you more than I used to. Before I acknowledged your presence." He finally approaches.

You can feel the hair at the back of your neck stand and you gasp.

"If you can hear me, touch my right shoulder." He didn't just touch, he kissed it. Somehow you knew that.

"Right for yes, left for no." You take a deep breath. "Are you a ghost?" You felt the center of your spine tingle. "I'll take that as a maybe. Are you feeling lost?" Yes. "Were you forced do be here?" No. "Do you like being here?" Yes. "Why?" Before you realized you asked the wrong question.

"You." He whispered and you heard him. You spin and its as if you can see his outline. "Can you hear me?"

You didn't respond but your eyes were searching frantically. You remember how to get him to be here, physically.

You take off your clothes, right in front of him. Mere inches away from him. Taehyung is unsure but whenever you're horny, he is too. And the fact that he's physically present when you need him the most.

You blinked and there he was, his hands coming up to your face pulling you in for a kiss which you surrender to. Your hand s wrap around his this wrist, you waddle backwards taking him with you, knocking over your easels and canvases out of the way.

A huge canvas slides the floor and you fall on it, the plant clatters everywhere as he hungrily kisses you.

He kisses down your neck while he pins your wrists down on the canvas. The spilled paint printing your skin onto the blank space.

"I don't know if I can hold back." He whispers into your neck.

"Don't." You pull him back up by his hair and kiss him as you move your hips to align yourself.

He can feel your wet folds rubbing against him. He groans into your kiss.

"Take me, please Taehyung." His name on your lips makes him feel... Alive. You chant his name and beg for him to finally take you.

"Please, Taehyung." You moan into his ear. And finally, he pushed in.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Sex has never felt so good, its as if your body was on fire. Like you took several E's and overdosed.

It was a stretch and you loved it.

"So good for me, YN. So perfect." His hand overed in paint rests on your neck, nearly choking you but he just holds it there. He sits up looking down on where he's finally connected with you. "the prettiest soul I'll ever devour."

His eyes completely turn black and suddenly you feel like you're literally on fire until he fucks inyo you like there's no tomorrow.

In truth, he was summoned by your deepest desire. A couple of months ago you were prettt drunk on wine, wishing out loud for something to come and pluck you out of this earth but before that, you wished to be fucked as if it was your last.

That's when he manifested. He appeared in your room as you touched yourself, he stood behind you in the shower, he waited for you to come home when you ran errands.

Taehyung was supposed to be quick, he's seduce you and then devour your soul. But you had seduced him, you walked around half naked all the time, your mundane activities are the best entertainment for him.

He loved watching you paint. He loved your music, he loved every inch of your body, he fell in love with you.

All while you still kept thinking you were alone. But as you kept on wishing for your end, he becomes stronger, he fed off your sexual frustration, your anger, your emotions. He inhaled your soul.

And now as he flips you over and fucks your sweet juicy pussy as grabs your skin, scattering paint over it. Seeing his hand print in very curve of your body makes him fuck you deeper. Fuck.

His first pussy in years and it belonged to you. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He took you in different positions, so many, you lost count. You've come 3 times and he's been holding it in.

Maybe he's afraid he's disappear once ge finishes. He couldn't leave you again like last night.

"Taehyung. I'm close. I can't any more." You half moan half sob.

"Cum with me, baby. You're doing si good." With a few more thrusts you've both come undone.

You collapse onto the canvas. But a second later, strong arms pick you up and take you to the shower. He holds you tight as he washes your body and hair and himself. Exchanging kisses and giggles.

When you're both dry, you get into your bed and cuddle. You lay on his chest tracing along the lines of his body.

"Go to sleep." He whispers.

"I'm scared." You whisper back. "I don't want you to disappear again."

"I won't." The way he's caressing your hair makes you feel sleepy. "I'll be here." He kisses the top of your head and you fall asleep.

You wake up alone in bed. But the sun was shining so bright through your windows. You feel light today, lighter than ever.

Before you could sulk, you hear some clatter in the kitchen. Even though you were half dressed you ran into the kitchen.

He stood there, naked, cooking eggs. The windows are so bright that you pulled the curtains as you passed them.

"Taehyung." You breathed out and he turns to you with a smile.

With filled happinrss you jump into his arms and pepper him with kisses.

"You're here, you're with me! Are you... You're alive?" He nods slowly. Your enthusiasm was cute that Taehyung held back the truth.

He's not alive. You're dead.

Your body would be found by your friends in your bed when they worried that you haven't been responding, all dressed as you were. They said you said a fatal heart attack.

But they would soon find the canvas that you fucked on, it was evidence that someone was with you. But who? Your friends never knew.

Although your neighbor with dementia claimed you've been living with a handsome young man for months now. She said that he would sit on the couch for hours waiting on you, or would just walk around the house while you cleaned.

With no defense wounds on you, it didn't seem like murder.

Taehyung merely pulled you over to the otherside as you fucked instead of him coming into your world.

He was supposed to devour your entire being, but he couldn't. Not when you were so perfect for him. As first he wanted to be human with you but then you'd age and leave him.

It would take you months to years before you realize that you've died. And until then Taehyung will be with you, forver and ever.

End.

[f1tales]

he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.

he wanted it comfortable, she wanted that pain.

pairing: mason mount x ofc!actress

summary: olivia is a rising tv/movie star. mason is a star footballer. he wanted a life with her, she was still making her own name.

author's note: i originally wrote this as part of a midnights writing challenge that i set myself. this is the only one i ever managed to finish, so i thought: might as well post it cause it's been sitting in the drive for way too long! i'm tempted to make the other ones as well now.. haha we'll see. enjoy x

warning: i suppose it's not the kind of happy ending everyone wants? idk..

face claim: none.

word count: 3.5k

“Oh my god, Liv,” Lina rushed into the dressing room. “Look what just arrived for you!”

Olivia’s eyes fell on the big bouquet of white roses that Lina was holding. Her eyes scanned the bouquet for a card. She had found it in no time. Not that she needed it, she knew exactly who sent her these flowers.

Mason.

“Uh,” Olivia stumbled on her words, “yeah just put them down there.” She motioned her hand towards the corner of the vanity. Lina frowned as she did what her boss told her to do. Olivia sat back in the chair, staring at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t you want to read the card?”

Olivia shook her head, “uh, no I’ll do it after I finish shooting my scenes.”

Lina sat down on the sofa. “I wish I had a boyfriend like Mason.” she said. “He’s always sending you flowers, picks you up after long days, takes you out on dates.” Lina sighed. “He’s honestly such a nice guy, Liv. I don’t think you’ve ever dated anyone better than him.”

Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes, “yeah, I know.” Her eyes were now focussed on the script in her lap. “He’s great.” she whispered.

Olivia waved goodbye to the crew that night as she walked towards the car park. She rubbed her hands through her eyes. It had been a long day. But this is what she wanted. She had known ever since she was little. She knew she wanted to be an actress one day. And now that was reality. So, she couldn’t complain. 

She knew she couldn’t complain about anything. Her life was exactly what she wanted it to be. She was an actress, starring in her own tv series. Her boyfriend was the greatest man she had ever met in her life. She should feel complete.

But, she didn’t. Something felt off.

“Hello gorgeous.”

Olivia smiled; there he was. Perfect as always; wearing pearly white sneakers, a tracksuit and the most gorgeous smile. The blood rushed to her cheeks when Mason placed his soft lips on hers. She felt butterflies in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her head against his chest.

“Hey.”

“We should go,” Mason muttered, “people are watching.”

Olivia hummed. People were always watching. Mason grabbed onto her hand and led her over to his car. She smiled at him as he opened the door for her. She saw flashes going off as Mason closed the passenger side door.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Olivia simply hummed in response, resting her head against the window, “I’m tired. Can we just go to yours?” She bit her lip when Mason put a hand down on her thigh, his eyes focused on the road in front of them.

The young actress zoned out of the conversation. She faintly heard Mason talk about coming down to his match this weekend, his teammates would love to meet her. She didn’t reply, she just looked out the window. She had no idea where all of this was coming from. She didn’t understand how a relationship this healthy; how a guy this good to her, could hurt her so much.

Mason glanced over at the gorgeous girl in the seat next to him. He gently squeezed her thigh. He was so lucky to have her. She was everything he ever wanted; she was kind, sweet, smart, funny. She was the whole package. Yet she hadn’t felt like herself, Mason had noticed. Something was off.

After a short drive the pair arrived at Mason’s house.

“Go take a shower,” Mason told his girlfriend, “I’ll cook us some dinner.”

Olivia smiled at Mason, her heart melted at the sight of him. She hadn’t properly looked at him yet. Sure, she had noticed his royal blue Chelsea tracksuit and the pearly white sneakers. But she hadn’t noticed his messy hair, the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her. She nodded, “okay.” She walked over to him, brushing her lips softly against his.

Mason placed a hand on her cheek, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Mason watched as she left the kitchen. He smiled, then turned to his fridge. 

Olivia smiled to herself as she entered the shower. She loved Mason, she really did. She shook her head as she washed out the shampoo. Why she doubted this so much, she would never know. The guy’s downstairs cooking her up a meal, for God’s sake! She let the warm water run down her back and wash away all her feelings and doubts.

With a towel wrapped tightly around Olivia walked towards Mason’s bedroom. She grabbed a pair of her underwear and tank top from her drawer. She opened the drawer beneath that to get a pair of biker shorts. She then walked to the bed where she saw one of Mason’s jumpers.

It was too big on her, but she had never felt more comfortable. She put on a pair of warm socks before she began her way downstairs again.

“Oh Mase,” Olivia wrapped her arms around Mason’s waist from behind him, “this actually smells really nice.” She stood on her tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder. 

Mason stirred through the pan of vegetables, “oi,” he chuckled, “have a little faith.”

Olivia placed a kiss on his shoulder before letting go of him. “It’s just that last time you cooked it didn’t go down so well.” she said. She grabbed a bottle of white wine. She poured herself and Mason a glass. She sat down on a high chair at the cooking island. She rested her head on her hands watching Mason cook.

Five minutes later the food was ready. Olivia sat crossed legged on the couch when Mason handed her a plate. Mason looked at the TV. He groaned, “no, Livie, not again.” Mason sat down on the couch next to his girlfriend. “We’re not watching this again.”

“Please,” Olivia pouted, “I love this film!”

Mason sighed, “fine, fine.” he grumbled. He placed the plate on his lap. He watched as Olivia got comfortable on the couch. She pressed play and for what felt like the fiftieth time that week How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days began to play on the TV. “It’s like you’re trying to lose me here, babe.”

Olivia smiled, her stomach suddenly hurting very much. She picked at her food as the opening scene started. Halfway through the movie Mason had fallen asleep on the couch with his head on Olivia’s lap. Olivia was still very much focussed on the movie as she played with Mason’s hair.

Olivia chuckled at the TV as Andie and Ben sang You’re So Vain. 

Mason stirred in his sleep. He opened his eyes, covering them with his hand to adjust to the light. He looked over to the TV and groaned, “is it still not over?” Olivia gave him a kiss on his forehead as she reached for the TV remote.

“Don’t worry, we can turn it off.” she said. She paused the movie then turned off the TV. “I’m quite tired as well.”

The pair cleared up their dishes. Olivia told her boyfriend to leave it all in the sink; she would clean them first thing tomorrow. Once in the bedroom, Olivia was the first one to get comfortable in the bed. Mason said he’d take a quick shower first.

“Mummy! Daddy! Wake up!”

Olivia blinked as the sound of a children’s voice woke her up. Two big, brown eyes were staring at her as she opened her own. She looked to her side; Mason was still fast asleep. “Daddy!” The toddler jumped on Mason. “Wake up! Santa was here last night!” The toddler shook Mason’s shoulder.

Mason slowly woke up, a grin creeping up on his face when noticing the small child that was now sitting on top of him. “Hey buddy,” Mason sat up in the bed and took the toddler on his lap. “Good morning.” he said as he kissed the toddler on the top of his head.

“Daddy,” the child pulled on Mason’s hand, “let’s go. There’s presents!” The toddler looked from Mason to Olivia with wide eyes. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay,” Mason laughed, “Mummy and I will get dressed first, okay?” Mason looked over at the confused woman in the bed next to him. Mason put the child down on the floor, “go put your Christmas sweater on, buddy.”

Olivia frowned, ‘mummy’. Why was he referring to her as this child’s mother? As far as Olivia was concerned the two of them did not have children. Nor would they have any in the foreseeable future. She watched as the toddler happily ran off to his bedroom.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Mason gave her a quick kiss on her lips. “You seem a bit dazed. Are you okay?” Olivia merely nodded in response to him. “Okay.” Mason got out of bed. As he was pulling a Christmas sweater over his head he said, “we should hurry. Theo will have opened all the presents by himself.”

Olivia got herself out of bed. She looked over at a dresser across from the bed; a few picture frames on top of it caught her eye. She pulled on the Christmas sweater that was lying on an armchair not too far away from the dresser. She grabbed a picture frame from the dresser.

Mason had his arms around her as she was wearing a beautiful, white dress. They were both smiling. They looked happier than ever. Mason’s hands were resting on her stomach, where she could make out the tiniest bump.

She put the picture down again. She picked up another, where she was laying in a hospital bed with a little blue bundle in her arms. She bit her lip as she looked down at it. In a picture frame next to the one she was holding, she saw Mason and her sitting on their very own bed. Mason had the little boy on his lap, but Olivia had another baby in her arms. The little baby was wrapped in pink.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

Mason wrapped his arms around Olivia’s waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder. Olivia simply hummed in response as she put the photo back down. Mason pressed a quick kiss on his wife’s shoulder, “alright. I’ll go grab Skylar and Theo.”

Olivia only nodded slightly. She left the bedroom not long after Mason went to get their children. She wandered around the house. She opened every room, having a peek in what is now apparently her life. There was barely any glimpse into her past life.

No movie posters; no TV-show posters; no awards besides the ones she had won before her children were born; no pictures of her at fancy award shows. The walls of the house were covered with family photos. 

She smiled at them; they seemed like a happy family.

“Livie,” Olivia looked around, there wasn’t anyone there but yet her name was being repeated over and over again. Olivia furrowed her brow.

“Liv!”

Olivia’s eyes opened wide. Mason was staring down at her, his eyes wide and worried. He let out a big sigh of relief. Olivia looked around; she was in Mason’s bedroom. Her chest was rising and falling fast. She ran a hand through her hair. She frantically looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the dresser across the room.

Not a picture in sight.

“Liv, are you okay?”

Mason now sat in front of her, his legs crossed. “You were tossing and turning like crazy when I came out of the shower,” he placed one of his hands lovingly on her shoulder. Olivia flinched. Mason stared at her, his eyes full of hurt. She got up from the bed. She looked around the room, trying to find any trace of the children she and Mason seemingly had.

There were none.

“Liv, what’s going on?”

“I-,” she shook her head, “nothing.” She took a deep breath. She turned around to face Mason once again. He looked worried, she noted. And hurt. She smiled at him. “Just a bad dream.” She sat down on the bed with him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I’m fine.”

Mason smiled slightly as Olivia pressed a kiss on his cheek. He watched her get back into his bed. He crawled in next to her not much later. He frowned when she tensed as he pulled her close. But then he smiled when she held onto his hands not much later.

“I love you,” he mumbled before pressing a kiss to her hair.

“I love you,” the words echoed through Olivia’s head for the rest of the night. She had pretended to be asleep when Mason had muttered these words. All the doubts she had earlier came flooding back and they weren’t letting her sleep.

Just before midnight, as she was falling asleep, she realised what was really keeping her up.

She couldn’t stay in this relationship with Mason.

two weeks later…

Olivia’s eyes fluttered open. She felt around the bed. Mason wasn’t there. She sat up in bed. “Mase?” she called out. She walked over to the chair in the corner. She pulled his blue jumper over her head. She found a note on the dresser.

She shivered as she picked it up. That damn dresser. Every time she walked into this room she still expected to see the perfect family pictures up on that dresser. Every time she was afraid that dream had become reality.

Gone to get us breakfast. Love Mase

Olivia put the note back on the dresser. A cold shiver ran through her body. “Would it kill him to turn up the temperature a bit..” she mumbled. She opened Mason’s sock drawer, looking for a comfy pair of socks to keep her warm. She picked up a pair of black socks. Her eyes fell on a green velvet box with a notepad underneath it.

Olivia’s heartbeat picked up, her hands began to shake and her breathing was uneven. The pair of black socks fell to the floor. She knew she shouldn’t, but her hand reached for the box. She gasped as she opened it. She quickly closed the box again. She got the notepad from the drawer.

Speech after speech was written on the notepad. Words, even full sentences, were crossed out. Her eyes scanned paper after paper. They all came down to the same thing. 

Will you marry me?

She dropped the notepad to the floor. With shaking hands she took the box and sat down on the edge of Mason’s bed. She looked at the beautiful ring that was inside the small box. A tear rolled down her cheek.

A tear of sadness.

“Livie..” Mason stood in the doorway, breakfast in his hand. “You weren’t meant to find that.” Olivia said nothing as she closed the box. She heard some ruffling and before she knew it Mason was in front of her. On his knees. He had taken the box from her hands. “This isn’t how I planned to do this,” he chuckled, “but I guess now is as good a time as any.”

Olivia looked away from him, tears streaming down her face. This was it. This was where it would all end. This was the push she needed to end things with Mason. 

“I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” Mason had tears in his eyes, but a smile on his face. Olivia’s heart broke at the sight; she had led him on for so long. She should have ended things when she first started having serious doubts about their relationship. She didn’t think she ever felt her heart beat this fast before. “Will you marry me?”

Olivia pursed her lips, her tears rolling uncontrollably down her face.

“Mase, I-,” she let out a big sniff, “I-,” her hands wiped the tears away under her eyes. “I can’t.” She shook her head. “No.”

It all happened so fast after this. The green, velvet box fell from Mason’s hands. He got up from his kneeling position. His hands were in his hair as he paced around the room. He watched Olivia walk around the room to gather her things. She put them in an overnight bag. She was crying as she told him she just didn’t feel that way about him anymore. Mason didn’t speak as Olivia pleaded with him to say something. He stood nailed to the floor. He stood lifelessly in front of her.

Just as she wanted to leave the bedroom, Mason’s voice stopped her.

“Tell me,” Olivia tried to look him in the eyes, but she couldn’t. Her heart ached. “If I had never asked you to marry me, would you have ever told me you didn’t feel the same?”

Olivia’s eyes darted towards the floor; she probably wouldn’t have. She couldn’t speak. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. That was all Mason needed to know as he curtly nodded at her. “Right,” he said, “well, don’t let me keep you.”

With her head down she headed out the door. That was the last time they would see each other.

Olivia and Mason didn’t speak anymore. She thought about him a lot for the first two weeks after they split up. She thought about him when she was laying in bed on her own at night. For the first time in years she was sleeping by herself. She focussed on her work, landing a role in a big movie production. She moved to Los Angeles, as far away from Mason and her past life as she could.

She heard he had found someone new. They seemed happy. This girl was living the life she gave away. The life Mason dreamt about while Olivia was making her own name; chasing the fame she wanted. From her assistant she heard that Mason had asked this girl to marry her; they would marry next summer.

Mason was happy. He met Lizzie in the coffee house she worked at, about five months after Olivia walked away from him. She was different. She was studying, working in the coffee house to pay for her studies and housing. Mason found himself coming back every other day, just to talk to her.

It took him a good month to finally ask her for her number. Lizzie made him laugh again; she made him whole again. She came to his games wearing his shirt; his name and number on her back. She wore it with so much pride. He dedicated all his goals to her.

Olivia never, ever crossed his mind. Except when she’s on TV.

Olivia sat on the couch in her tracksuit. Her make-up from tonight’s Oscar celebrations is still on her face. Lina was rummaging around in the kitchen, to make the two English girls a good cuppa. Mason was never on her mind anymore, except on midnights like this.

She would never tell anyone, but she missed him. She was right where she wanted to be, but she was alone. She looked at the golden statue that stood on her coffee table. She would have loved to have him by her side as she won her first big award.

“Hey,” Lina sat down with her, handing her the cup of tea. “What’s on your mind?”

Olivia simply smiled. Lina could read her like no-one else. “Nothing,” she shrugged as she took a sip of the hot tea. Lina simply raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend. They didn’t need to speak; they both knew Mason was on her mind. “I don’t know,” Olivia shrugged again, “I guess sometimes we all get just what we want, no?”

She stared at the statue on the coffee table again.

“I’m just overcome by this haunting feeling, you know?” Lina simply nodded in response to her friend. “Trust me, I know I made the right decision years ago to walk away. Cause this,” she motioned her arm around, “this is what I wanted. Cause I never really think of him anymore.” she sadly smiled. “Just on midnights like this, I get a bit haunted by the what ifs and the what could have been’s.”

Halfway across the world, Mason snuck out of bed early. He was clutching his phone tightly in his hand. He looked at Lizzie, who was sound asleep on their shared bed. He quietly walked out of the bedroom and into the downstairs living room.

He sat down on the couch, opening his phone. He typed away on his phone, waiting for the Internet page to load. As he waited, he looked around the room. A picture next to the TV caught his eyes; a picture of Lizzie’s first sonogram last week. Their little baby’s first picture; a warm and fuzzy feeling overcame him.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the screen in his hand again.

“English actress Oliva Clark takes home her first ever Oscar Award for Best Actress.”

He smiled, “you did it.”

no part two.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Rocket x Reader

wrote these after getting off of phighting, was very fun phighting is so good shsigsjshsk, anyways enjoy!

- When you first met Rocket you thought he was hyper and kind of annoying, fast forward to you two dating, you did not see that one coming but hey, boyfriend acquired so who cares

- While yes he is sorta hyperactive and a bit loud sometimes you love that about him, it’s part of who he is and you love everything about him, and he loves everything about you right back, even if not through words he shows his love for you a lot, especially through touch, he’s very clingy, he likes hugging you, holding you, holding your hand, draping himself across your legs or having you drape yourself over him, he just wants to be in contact with you at all times

- He probably uses those really cheesy embarrassing pet names just to make you embarrassed and annoyed with him, stuff like shnookums or cutiepie, but actually he calls you sweet things in private when he doesn’t wanna be an ass, if you do it back he turns it into a game, who can call the other a more weird/embarrassing name, whoever can’t think of something or whoever gets too embarrassed and asks the other to stop first wins, he’s very competitive but he has admitted defeat a couple times before

- You definitely help Rocket with trimming his horns, cleaning his rocket, basic maintenance on his arm and leg, etc, while he can do those things by himself it’s difficult, especially his horns and since Zuka ‘thinks it’s stupid’ he usually asks you or Sword to trim them, then it’s difficult to repair his arm when he only has the one to use

- Speaking of his arm it has occurred more than once where you slept over at his or he slept at your and the next morning you have to spend 5 minutes finding his fucking leg because he put it somewhere the night before and can’t remember where so he can’t fucking walk, he gets all grumbly and huffy even when you remind him it’s his fault he doesn’t know where his leg is, if your at his place and you just cannot find it he puts on an old one that’s not bionic and is more like a peg leg and hobbles around to help you find it

- For dates he probably enjoys movie nights, semi fancy dinners, gaming into the early morning, a lot of quality time stuff, but don’t get him wrong his love language is physical touch during all of it he’s touching you somewhere, arm, leg, head, whatever, something of his is on you or something of yours is on him

- Chronic clothes thief, hoodie? Rocket is gaslighting you into thinking it’s always been his, but not actually it’s a silly goofy thing not a toxic thing, some accessory you wear commonly? You take it off for a second and he’s got it on, don’t even get started on if he spends the night at your place, you wake up after him and nothing he’s wearing is his, it is all from your closet

- DO NOT LET THIS MAN IN THE KITCHEN. Early on in the relationship he offered to make you breakfast, Zuka had to grab a fire extinguisher. You learned a valuable lesson to never let him cook, he forgot the water in ramen, SIX TIMES. If you can’t cook either you guys eat a lot of take out or rely on Zuka, luckily he can cook, though some of it is solider ration meals because of his past, so honestly if you also can’t cook you might just wanna pick up food for everyone’s sakes

- He feels ashamed about his past and hates talking to you about it, it was a awful part of his life and he has the scars to prove it, you don’t push which he is grateful for as he doesn’t want you to think less of him for the violence and anger that was teenage him

hope you enjoyed! i had fun writing it and j think it’s good, i feel like i’m missing something though, idk its midnight maybe im just over thinking lol, if i do remember i forgot something i’ll add it

[azsazz]

SJM Ask Game

Thank you for the tag @daydreaming-nerd !! 💙💙 (I do want to hear those redacted answers for where you put tharion lol) I feel like it's been so long since I've been on tumblr or even done one of these but I'm excited💙

1) What’s your favourite SJM book?

Hmmmm I'm gonna say ACOMAF because that's when I was first introduced to Azzy and the obsession began 💙😈

2) Which is your favourite series (tog, acotar or cc)

If you don't know me, CC is one of the worst books I've ever read. It's hard to choose between ACOTAR and TOG tho because they were both really good....

3) Who is your favourite character? (And why?)

Hehehehehehehehe. Az obviously 🥰

4) Do you have a favourite quote from one of the books?

Hmmmm...tbh not really...the ones that stay stuck in my head are the cringey ones...BUT, let's go with "Cassian shot him a glare. 'I don't see you spouting poetry, brother.' Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly, 'I don't need to resort to it.'" THAT'S GODDAMN RIGHT BBY YOU DONT 💙💙 legs spread for mah boi

5) Favourite ship?

Azris frfr

6) Elriel or Gwynriel? Or neither?

Azris frfr

7) Who’s the most underrated SJM character?

Oooof there's so many. Fenrys. I've never gotten enough of him.

8) Which character do you wish to learn more about?

Azris frfr. I want both of their backstories rn

9) Are there any characters you don’t like?

Bryce Quinlan and Danika Fendyr

10) Favourite bat boy?

My king azriel 💙💙

11) Favourite court?/ Which one would you most like to live in?

Honestly I'd probably either live in Autumn or Night tbh.

12) Favourite SJM villain?

Does Tamlin count? lol.

13) If you could change one thing in any of the books what would it be?

That CC never happened

14) Favourite SJM theory?

Azris frfr

15) Favourite Archeron sister?

Prob Ness

16) A character you feel is over-hated/ underrated:

over-rated: bryce quinlan

under-rated: chaol 💙

17) Aelin, Bryce, or Feyre?

Aelin!!

18) What’s your favourite character from each series?

Fenrys, Azriel, Ruhn

19) If you wrote an acotar book what would you call it?

A Court of Smoke and Cinders? (azris frfr)

20) Who is your favourite acotar blogger?

nah there's literally too many to choose from

21)What fics would you recommend to people who love the series?

The Serpent and the Wings of Night

Questions for writers

22) Easiest character to write for?

Azzy because i built him brick by brick

23) Hardest character to write for?

LUCIEN. IDK WHY

24) What’s a character you’d like to write for but haven’t yet?

lol who haven't i written for? hmmmm...maybe fenrys, aedion, or hunt?

25) What’s a court you’d like to write about more?

Dawn!

26) What’s a character you won’t write for and why?

hmmm...idk I'd like to say that I'd try anything once...

27) If you could only write for one character ever again, who would you pick?

azzy. nobody compares to him

28) Whats your favourite trope to write about when it comes to Azriel?

right now i think modern aus...in any sort. or anything that involves angst i love putting everyone thru some shit

29) What do you think is the best/favourite acotar fic you’ve written?

hmmmm...i feel like this is impossible to choose

30) Who are your favourite friendships to write about?

eris x anyone because this man needs a friend

31) For first time readers to your blog, which three fics would you recommend they read?

LMAO ummm...I'll list at least one for. every character

Az: Cupid's Chokehold or Midnight Muse

Cass: In Storm or Dial Drunk or Better Men Have Hit Their Knees and Bigger Men Have Died

Eris: You Know I Always Liked Playing with Fire or Hide

Rhys: Clandestine Love or Dioxazine

Lucien: The Other Woman or My Happy Ending

or literally any poly can't go wrong with those tbh

No pressure tags: @writingsbychlo @acourtofwhatthefuck @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @azrielhours @a-frog-with-a-laptop or anyone else who wants to participate!

[baileypie-writes]

YOUR HEADCANONS ARE SO AMAZING WHA- eats you headcanons eats your headcanons eats your headcanons eats your hea-Now; I am extremely sorry if I come off as needy but I loved how you wrote for my last request with my Male Reader, and I was hoping you could write headcanons (or a one-shot if you prefer) about the intimidating yet wholesome Reader maybe preforming a rock and roll genre concert or something that fits his scary style? However! He brought Veneer along, and by the end of one of the songs he takes a moment to announce he brought someone special, saying that the audience might know who it is, and once Veneer walks on stage some of the audience are confused as to why Veneer is there, while others ( who may or may not have been shipping the two) are just ESTATIC Maybe they can sing together???Please and thank you! Remember to take your time with this, no pressure!!!!

A/N ~ Rahhh thank you! I’m so glad you like my stuff! Hope you enjoy! Btw I made them sing a song by the band Ghost. It’s a really good rock band, highly recommended it if you don’t already know them.

~Surprise Guest~

Veneer x Male!Intimidating!Soft!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: You brought Veneer along to one of your concerts as a surprise guest.

Warnings: Kinda cheesy but idk

The song Reader and Veneer sing together is Dance Macabre by the band Ghost(my favorite band)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One final strum of a guitar marked the end of your “final” song. The crowd cheered, jumping up and down enthusiastically.

You smiled at the sight, grateful to have such adoring fans. Thanking the crowd, you caught sight of the man hiding backstage. You smirked, and nodded to him, signaling your next action.

“Hang on, guys!” You addressed the crowd. “No need to be sad just yet! I have a little surprise for all of you!” The crowd murmured excitedly.

You took a few steps back on the stage. After waiting a few moments for the people to cheer impatiently, you finally motioned for somebody to come on stage. The crowd went silent in anticipation. A familiar green haired man walked on stage, and everyone went wild.

When he finally was by your side, you put a finger to your lips to shush the crowd. Once they obeyed, you made your announcement.

“This is Veneer, my boyfriend.” Once again, your fans went wild. This time, though, much louder. The two of you each plugged an ear, smiling to each other. You and Veneer had been seen together on many occasions. Sensing something was between the two of you, both of your fans began shipping you. They thought that your intimidating looks, yet kind personality went perfectly with Veneer. While they were correct, you had kept silent about your relationship for a while now, waiting for a good moment to announce it. And much to your fans’ delight, tonight was the night.

After letting the crowd let their excitement out, you silenced them once again. “We’re gonna sing one more song for you guys.” You said. After confirming with Veneer, you signaled for the band to begin playing.

(Play the song)

The crowd quieted down as the song started. The guitarist and drummer led most of the beginning. When it was finally time, you began to sing.

“You’ll soon be hearing the chime

Close to midnight

If I could turn back the time

I’d make all right.”

You looked at Veneer, silently telling him that it was his turn. He nodded, and sang as well.

“How could it end like this?

There’s a sting in the way you kiss me

Something within your eyes

Said it could be the last time

‘For it’s over”

Your eyes met once again. And the two of you joined your voices together.

“Just wanna be

Wanna bewitch you in the moonlight

Just wanna be

Wanna bewitch you all night”

The crowd was highly enjoying this romantic collaboration. Their hands waved in the hair, and many bobbed their heads along to the beat. No one dared to sing along, though. They knew this moment was special to you. It was special to them as well, as they’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

You and Veneer continued the song. Most of the time, your eyes stayed glued to one another’s. This has been a dream for you; singing with your boyfriend in front of a large crowd. Now that you were finally experiencing it, you knew that this would be your new favorite memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes