#like fr. rush had made him look bad
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If only those ppl on tiktok knew 😔😔😔
#like fr. rush had made him look bad#I hate that film and love it at the same time#its that they put james in a bad light and play him as the playboy not knowing there's far more beyond that#james hunt#f1#formula 1#classic f1#vintage f1#mclaren#niki lauda#rush movie
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I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)
jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader
summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again
word count: 5,391 words
side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)
Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.
Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.
Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.
But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.
"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"
At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.
"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"
The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.
Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.
(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)
You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"
Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.
It excites you.
All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.
Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.
And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.
It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.
"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"
"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.
(You can't remember his name)
"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.
But you do.
Joel Miller fucking hates you.
After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.
Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.
He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.
He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.
He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.
But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.
He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.
But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.
And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.
He hated you for it.
But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.
Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.
In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.
Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.
Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.
No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.
He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.
Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.
"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.
"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"
In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.
"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"
Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.
"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.
"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"
He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.
"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.
"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"
He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.
"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"
Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.
"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.
"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"
You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.
"What's wrong with that?"
"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.
"With voicing out my concerns"
He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.
"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"
It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.
"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"
You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.
Like Joel.
You just can't help wanting it all.
Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:
"'Cause I ain't a quitter"
As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.
You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.
"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.
Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.
"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"
You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.
God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)
"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.
Bite.
You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.
It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.
(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)
The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"
You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"
He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.
"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"
"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.
"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"
"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"
He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.
Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.
"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"
You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.
"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.
It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.
You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.
With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.
(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)
He may be the first man to make you cry.
"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.
"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.
"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"
A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.
"I can do whatever I want"
(The fire. It burns)
He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"
Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"
Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?
"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"
It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.
You scoff. "Excuse me?"
"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"
"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.
(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)
"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"
"I'm not stupid" you counter.
"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.
"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.
The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.
As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.
"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"
"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.
His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.
"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.
You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"
Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.
"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"
But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.
"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"
Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.
"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"
"Don't make me repeat myself"
You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.
But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.
You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.
(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)
"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"
He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.
"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.
He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.
"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"
He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.
"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"
He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"
He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"
"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"
You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.
"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"
"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.
"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"
"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"
He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.
"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"
You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.
"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"
He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.
No. He's right.
You want this as much as he does.
(Isn't that the scariest part?)
"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.
"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"
His adam's apple bobs.
"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"
"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"
You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.
"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.
You smirk.
"To watch you"
To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?
(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)
"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"
His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue.
"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"
You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air.
"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction.
"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"
"I'm sorry, Joel-"
He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.
"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"
A mewl escapes your lips.
"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"
"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"
Oh.
The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.
"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"
Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.
Fuck, isn't he aroused.
"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"
You nod, eagerly so.
"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"
"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"
"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.
"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"
But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.
(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)
"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"
"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"
He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.
"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.
"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.
"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.
"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.
"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"
"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"
"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"
"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.
"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"
He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.
"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"
He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.
You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.
"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"
You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.
"Good girl"
Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat.
"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"
You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.
Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"
"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"
He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.
"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"
"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"
"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"
Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.
"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.
"N-need to-"
"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"
All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge.
"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"
You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.
(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)
It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.
Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.
"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"
A week later, you're back at patrolling.
"Anyone got anythin' to say?"
The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.
Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.
"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"
The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.
"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"
credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#jackson!joel miller#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou joel#pedro pascal characters#tlou part 2#tlou 2#the last of us hbo#brat taming#brat tamer joel#dom!joel miller#soft!joel miller
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hello i am fiending for college nerd perv!Leon Kennedy
I ♡ HOT NERDS.ᐟ — Leon Kennedy x YOU! — SMUT!
TAGS: fem bodied reader, blowjobs, lots of pussy eating, pussydrunk leon, no fr hes so whipped for you here, mentions of getting off to your underwear, study buddied to fuck buddies to bff's to lovers, unprotected sex, mentions of sex toys, semi-public fucking, some bad words too
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
college nerd! leon crushes on you first. you're so sweet, so kind, and was a good friend all in all. during class, he finds himself staring at you while the professor yaps away. you two became friends after he offered to help you with chemistry, the only class you shared with, and after he spotted your failing mark.
you've been closer—inseparable, actually—ever since, always talking, texting, calling the other. he was always over at your place, just like how you were always over at his. your grades have significantly gotten better, too, a perk of being friends with him, he says.
college nerd! leon who always brings over food at your place. he rarely ever orders for himself, always for two. he knows all your favourites. your go-to snacks, how you like your coffee, and even your preferences. you've asked him once how he has it memorized, and he just shrugged. when you blurt out that you're hungry, leon will come knocking at your door.
“you didn't have to!” “well, i wanted to,” leon closes the door behind him, and you come rushing to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “you're the best, leon!” you'd chirp, and leon feels his cheeks heat up. you link your arm arm around him as you drag him inside. “okay, what should we do. do we wanna watch a movie?”
college nerd! leon watches you more than he watches the shitty movie you've set up. you're nicely curled up to him, a blanket nicely resting atop your warm bodies. plus, he had a nice view of your chest, too. if he could stay like this forever, he would. unfortunately, he needed to get up and go to the bathroom. it hurt poking you and watching you settle on the other side of the couch.
college nerd! leon likes the way your apartment looks. it just screamed . . you. the posters, the decor. cuter than he's envisioned. even your laundry was wasn't a sight for sore eyes, only the pink, cotton pair of panties catching his attentio—
he swallows nervously.
college nerd perv! leon had to slap a palm over his mouth, trying to keep his noises down as his roommates were still sleeping. he had the same pink panties wrapped around his cock as he fucked his fist. this was depraved. he shouldn't . . but somehow, the thrill only made it better. he can't believe he's actually getting off to this, to your fucking underwear. god, he's such a pervert.
you're one of the few people that actually listens to college nerd! leon's yapping. something about this new comic that came out, or a fun fact about this video game, and even though you didn't understand what it was, you always listened, watching him. sometimes caressing his leg with your own shoe.
but college nerd! leon's oblivious to your advances. cuddling with him, holding hands with him, being touchy with him, and sometimes purposefully wearing the skimpiest clothing you had when he was over—he was very clueless, and you wondered if he even liked you.
today, you'll find out.
you're over at his place, watching him as he showed you his "nerd haul", as you called it. a bunch of figurines, some new comic books, and you were simply letting him talk, showcasing his stuff excitedly.
"mhm? what's that one about?"
you asked, glancing over at him as he explained it all to you. blah blah blah, batman and catwoman, blah blah blah. you couldn't really focus on what he was saying when he looked so fucking good and so fucking kissable.
"mhm?"
leon stops mid-yap as he feels your hand rest atop his groin. "y, y/n?" he looks over at you with wide eyes. he looked cute, 'specially with glasses. "go on . . " you cooed, and you watch his adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously.
"s, so . . um . . "
his breath hitches in his throat as he watches you settle on the ground, between his legs; your hands eager to get his cock out from his trousers. you only hummed, letting his half-erect cock spring out, and god, how does he keep that . . weapon in his shorts?!
your tongue drags up the shaft, feeling it slowly twitch and harden, and leon was completely speechless. "h, haah . . y/n," he whined, setting down the comic back on the table as he leaned back. your wet muscle teased the tip, tasting his pre.
"do you like this, leon?"
fuuuuck . . you were so hot talkin' while your tongue was out. it comes out as barely intelligible gibberish, but leon understood anyway, nodding as he looked down at you through his spectacles. "do you want me to stop?" he quickly shook his head. "use your words," you muttered, and leon whines. "n, no. i don't want you to stop,"
usin' your hands, you lather your spit all over his girth, feeling the veins under your palm. fuck, he's so hot. you've barely started and he was already panting like a dog in heat.
slowly, his girth enters your mouth. it's warm, and so damn fucking good leon could just bust a nut. he wants to prolong this. was this real? were you really blowing him?
"please, y/n," he pleads, and you only glance up at him. "hm?" you chuckled, and the subtle rumble makes him gasp. "l—let me . . let me fuck your throat," he whined, hips bucking up uncontrollably.
"mhm . . "
that was enough for leon, grabbing both sides of your head and filling your throat to the hilt with just one push down. you gagged, spit coating his shaft and balls. it didn't take long for him to start vigorously fucking your throat, the crown of his fat cock always meeting with the back of your throat.
the room is filled with lascivious noises—sounds of you gagging and the squelch of your filthy mouth plus leon's mewls. he only held his gaze low, eyes never breaking away from yours.
you bring your hands up, caressing his body and palming at his thighs. tears were swellin' up in your eyes, and leon loved how your waterline glistened. he wondered just how long would it take to mess up your mascara.
it felt good, so fucking good. his balls are aching to let out this load in your throat, but he can't. not yet. it takes everything in college nerd perv! leon to stop bobbin' your head up and down, pulling his cock out from your throat so you could breathe.
"w, why?" you pant. "not yet," he was, too. chests heaving. "c'mere," his body leans forward, and his hand gently ensnares your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. he could taste himself on you.
college nerd perv! leon lays you down on his couch, and he was settled in between your legs; arms hooked around your thighs and not even bothering to pull down your panties. he's salivating from just the sight of your cunt, nicely outlined by the cotton. he can't help but just—
"h, hnng! leon!"
his tongue's dragging up your slit, kissing and tasting the cloth while leon fumbled with the hem of your skirt. you lift your hips up, and leon slowly pulls it, his kisses trailing down your inner thighs to your calves.
"you're so beautiful . . "
college nerd perv! leon eats pussy as a sport. he's obsessed with how your taste and smell jus' completely engulfs him. doesn't fuckin' care if you've shaved or not, he'll devour it no matter what.
your clit's all puffy from how much he's been suckin' on it, and his hair's all messed up from how hard you've been tugging on it. he doesn't seem to mind, however, only grunting as his glasses fogged up. "oh my gooood . . leon," your toes curl, and leon grinds against the couch. "close, 'm close—!" you subconsciously close your legs on him, trapping him in place and— leon whimpers with a mouthful of cunt, an orgasm washing over him as he kept grinding his cock on the couch. another suckle from him, and you're fucking spraying him again, squealing as your back arched. oh, and he also eats ass.
college nerd perv! leon always prioritizes your orgasms first. nice guys finish last, he's read. he's been nice to you, right? he's been a good boy for you, just for you, right?
needless to say, you went from study buddies to fuck buddies quick.
you'd have quickies in the bathroom, in the storage room. leon would test out these new sex toys with and on you, too. including a lovense whilst you were in class, and he would randomly turn it on at any hour, letting you know that he was thinking of you.
sometimes you're making out in the gymnasium, or maybe in the rooftops, as long as it was private.
it seriously gave you whiplash how much of a pervert leon actually was. you didn't think he was, but you know what they say. it's always the quiet ones. and it was never boring with him, as he tried a lot of things with you both sexually and non-sexually.
his favourite? putting you on a dildo machine and lettin' it ram you 'til you were fucking stupid.
college nerd perv! leon loved to grope you, too; especially in public. your ass was mostly the victim of this, especially when the jocks who eyed you were around. they always do a double-take, because how could the shy, quiet nerd pull a baddie like you?
leon was possessive too, as you've discovered.
because when he's fucking rearranging your guts, he's always askin' you who do you belong to, and you?
well.
"yours! i'm yours!" you cried out as leon pounded your pretty cunt. "mine," he whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning down to bite your neck. your chest had all sorts of hickeys, and you're not surprised. he loved to mark you. his cock stretches you out so fucking nicely, and nothing compares to the pleasure you give leon. it was probably the highlight of his day, being buried balls deep inside you. gooodddd . . you felt so good. his balls kept clappin' against your ass, and your cunt just nicely sucked him back in while you coated his length with translucent slick, aaaall the way down to its base. as his orgasm neared, he lets a thumb roll over your clit so you could both cum together. you screamed, letting your eyes roll back in bliss. "leon . . l, leon—gonna cum. 'm cumming," leon picks up his pace as best as he could, even when his hips were burning with fatigue. you deserved it. his pretty girl deserved everything. "gonna cum too, y/n . . love you, love your fucking cunt," the confession goes over your head as you were busy being in cloud nine, and after a few pumps, you're gushing all over him whilst he floods your pretty pussy with his load.
college nerd perv! leon cums a lot. a lot. you don't know why or how, but he just does. you're always left overspilling whenever he creampied you.
"did you mean it?" leon had a strong arm wrapped around your frame, your back pressed nicely against his chest. "mean what?" he whispered back, a thumb caressing your sides. "that . . you loved me?" you look back at him, and leon lifts his head just so your lips could meet briefly. "of course i did," your eyes widen at the sudden confession, but you were happy. you lace your fingers with him, gradually laying over to your back so he could hover over you kiss you more.
college nerd! leon always gives the best aftercare. you're given water, massages, kisses, everything. you reciprocate it too, of course; covering him in kisses and holding him for as long as he needed.
you were already expecting college nerd! leon to be your boyfriend. he was everything and more you've imagined. flowers more often than you can count, orgasms everyday, a real gentleman, and plus he was so obsessed with you. his social media handles have zero posts, but all of them had you and him as his profile pictures. you couldn't have asked for anyone better.
god, best boyfriend in the world.
college nerd! leon, however, never expected you to be his girlfriend, even though the signs were all there. he's glad you are. you make him happy. the happiest. you were the only person who understood him and accepted him for all his quirks and "weirdness." not to mention also matching his freak.
unlike most, you were actually interested in the things that he liked, sometimes playing his games too even though you sucked and he always carried you. whatever it was, as long as he liked it, you would like it, too. and plus, a week after he had you as his girlfriend, people were complimenting him on how he was glowing.
god, best girlfriend in the world.
#𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖓. ✦#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy fanfiction#leon fanfiction#leon kennedy x reader fanfiction#leon scott kennedy x reader fanfiction#leon s kennedy x reader fanfiction#leon x reader fanfiction#leon kennedy fanfic#leon scott kennedy fanfic#leon s kennedy fanfic#leon fanfic#leon kennedy x reader fanfic#leon s kennedy x reader fanfic#leon scott kennedy x reader fanfic#leon smut#x reader smut#reader smut#resident evil 4#resident evil 4 fanfic#resident evil 4 fanfiction#re4 fanfic#re4 fanfiction
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gossiping with kenma
relationship ꕤ kenma x reader!
cw/tags ꕤ bokuaka mentions, fluff, gossip about friends!
wc ꕤ 636!
a/n: short lil thing while i write my new tsuki x reader fic! super super inspired by a post written by keijicentric! go follow them fr i love seeing their lil drabbles on my feed it's so fun!! @keijicentric i hope you like it and i hope this was okay lol as soon as i read that post i got inspired to write this
you rushed through your apartment, tossing your things on the couch and knocking quickly on your boyfriend’s office door. as soon as he said it was okay to come in, you slammed the door open, grinning excitedly at him. he glanced at you for a second and raised a brow. “what’s up?” he asked. you noticed behind him he was streaming, but he had turned the camera off.
“you need to mute!” you exclaimed.
“uh, i’m in the middle of a game. can it wait until it’s over?” he asked. you quickly shook your head and he sighed. “hold on, chat.” he muted his microphone, moving one side of his headphones off his ear so he could hear you. the chat was going wild. of course, they were all wondering what was going on and what you could possibly have to say. was it good? was it bad? there were a lot of people asking if you were pregnant or if you guys had gotten married.
little did they know, it was gossip, about you and kenma’s mutual friends. “guess what i heard from kuroo at work today?!” you exclaimed.
“what?” he asked.
you took a deep breath. “akaashi asked bokuto out!”
he raised a brow. “no. what?” he asked. “i always thought it’d be the other way around.”
“i know!” you grinned wide, sitting on his lap and getting comfortable to tell him everything. “apparently, akaashi had this whole thing planned. he got bokuto to read a book.” kenma snorted. “it was a short manga, but a book nonetheless!”
“he can’t even read a news article without falling asleep.” kenma chuckled.
“but he read it, for akaashi.” you smiled. “which is super romantic! anyway, kuroo said the book had two owls. it was a gray owl and a brown owl. it was about the owls and their story, obviously akaashi and bokuto. bokuto didn’t catch on until the last page, when the brown owl said, um,” you furrowed your brows.
“don’t tell me you forgot.” kenma sighed at you.
“no! i got it! it’s on the tip of my tongue!” he rolled his eyes and you smacked his arm. “oh! so, the brown owl says, while the owls are sitting on a tree branch i think, ‘bokuto-san, i’m in love with you’, and kuroo was told by akaashi that bokuto gave him a look with the widest eyes he’d ever seen!”
“wait, they were together while reading?” kenma asked. he had finished his game and was gently caressing your hands as the two of you gossiped about your friends.
“how do you think he finished it?” you asked.
“right.” kenma chuckled. “carry on.”
“oh, so, that i love you page was the last page and it was this big drawing, and the owl representing bokuto had an empty speech bubble.” you grinned. “this is the best part!” you squealed. kenma nodded. “so, bokuto had looked up at akaashi with super wide eyes, then he put the book down, leaving akaashi confused of course, went and grabbed a pen, and then wrote in all capital letters, ‘i love you akaashi!’” you squealed once more, and kenma raised his brows.
“i can’t believe he was smart enough to fill it in.” kenma joked.
“i know! it was so perfect.” you groaned.
“like when i had that game made for you when i proposed?” he asked.
you grinned. “yes!” you said happily. “it was exactly like that!” you hugged him tight. “that’s all.” you kissed his cheek and got off of his lap. “i have to shower.” you unmuted his stream. “bye, chat! have fun! don’t bully him too much!” you sang, and hummed as you walked out, closing the door.
he chuckled, turning his camera on. “don’t ask.” he said to the stream. “none of your business.”

m.list
previous work (hq boys take you to a party) | next work (hq boys react to you getting hit on in dms)
#tsukisangel ꕤ#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#kozume kenma#haikyuu kenma#kenma#kenma x reader#kenma kozume
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for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol
warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!
pairings: choi seungcheol x reader
genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol
wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)
a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once
check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list
“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”
seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?
on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.
seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”
“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.
“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.
you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.
then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you… it was a moment forever etched into your heart.
“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.
you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.
you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.
are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.
“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.
you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”
seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”
his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”
“why?”
“just because. & I need a date-”
“I can be your date.”
“no you can't.”
“why not?”
“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."
seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”
“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”
“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"
“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”
“that's none of your business.”
“seok-”
“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.
the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”
“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.
“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.
“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”
[—]
but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.
you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.
“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.
you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”
seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”
you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.
“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”
“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”
seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”
“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”
“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.
you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”
seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.
a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.
“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?
“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”
he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”
“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.
“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.
[—]
“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.
seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.
“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”
for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.
you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”
“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”
“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”
seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.
“yeah, nothing too….much,”
“& what exactly is too much?”
“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.
seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"
you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.
seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”
“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.
he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”
“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.
“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.
“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.
“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.
[—]
“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.
you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”
“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.
you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.
seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.
four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.
seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.
“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.
you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.
“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”
a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”
for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.
seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.” his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.
“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”
seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”
your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.
“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.
[—]
“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.
seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”
you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”
he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”
“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”
seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.
you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.
“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.
he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.
you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”
“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”
you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.
“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.
he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.
you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”
he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”
you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.
“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”
when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”
he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.
[—]
“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”
seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.
“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”
soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”
“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.
“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”
“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”
seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.
“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”
unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.
seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.
“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”
just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.
“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.
seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.
“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”
wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.
you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”
wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”
you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”
seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.
seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.
“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.
seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”
“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”
seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.
“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”
seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.
seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”
seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.
“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”
seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”
seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”
seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”
seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”
seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”
seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.
seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”
seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”
seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”
seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.
[—]
seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.
“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.
seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.
seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.
he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.
he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.
a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.
he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”
you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.
but god, how he wished it were real.
[—]
the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.
“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.
“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”
you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”
seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.
“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”
you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.
the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.
but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.
“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”
you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”
“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”
the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.
“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”
seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.
[—]
the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.
there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.
he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”
your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”
minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.
you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”
“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.
“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.
the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.
before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”
minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”
seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”
minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”
you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.
his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.
but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.
“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.
the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.
“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.
he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”
you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.
seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.
but it was so, so hard.
“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”
he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”
“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and… pretending to be my boyfriend?”
his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”
your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.
“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.
he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”
you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”
he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”
but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.
“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”
“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”
but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.
“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”
“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”
you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”
seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest.
“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.
seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”
you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”
he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?
seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.
but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.
“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”
what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.
“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”
the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?
the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”
seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.
“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”
“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”
“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”
“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”
that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.
“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”
minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.
when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.
but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”
at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.
seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.
but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?
you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.
when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”
you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.
“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.
“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”
“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.
you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.
seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.
“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry. “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”
he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.
“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”
you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.
back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.
“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.
“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.
you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.
he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.
your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”
he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”
the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”
his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”
you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.
you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.
“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.
you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”
seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”
his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.
seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.
his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.
but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.
“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”
“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”
“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”
you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.”
before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.
you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.
in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.
he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.
but still, seungcheol waits.
the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.
he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?
he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.
work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?
the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.
he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.
his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.
& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.
"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"
you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.
"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."
you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"
"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."
you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.
"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."
seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."
before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.
"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.
you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."
seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."
seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"
"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."
"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."
you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.
seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"
"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."
seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."
seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."
the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.
it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.
you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.
the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.
he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"
you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.
"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”
he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.
you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.
he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.
he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."
you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.
finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."
"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"
"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."
he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?”
you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."
seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"
you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."
seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.
"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"
your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.
he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."
your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.
"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."
your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn’t know. i never realized—"
"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”
seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.
the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.
“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”
you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”
his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”
the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.
seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”
“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.
you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.
seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.
"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.
his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.
"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."
your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”
he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression.
you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."
a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.
when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"
you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."
his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."
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GIRL, SO CONFUSING! ; OP81 + LN4.
synopsis: A combination of a fic and SMAU (Social Media Alternate Universe), following new F1 teammates Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris. . . and Oscar’s childhood best friend, Y/N L/N.
trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Use of swear words in English; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks; Depiction of a love triangle and polyamorous relationship (MMF)
a message from the author: My first hybrid post! I really love this idea – Landoscar is one of my favorite driver pairings – and I hope you all do as well 🥰 This took me forever to make, but I think it’s worth it.
yourusername: Summer went away, still, the yearning stays ☀️
tagged oscarpiastri
comments 2.1k
user1 How are you real??? You’re so beautiful
user2 This belongs on a postcard, fr 💌
user3 HAHAHA Oscar
user4 Hair tut when?
user5 Model, muse, icon, legend
oscarpiastri Thanks for including me 😁
user6 You look absolutely devious


comments 8.3k
user7 NO WAYYYY
user8 Is this how I find this out?
user9 Oscar is my GOAT 🐐
user10 Future WDC incoming. . .
user11 Poor Lando, he’s going to get demolished
user12 I’m excited to see this pairing!
user13 They’re complete opposites, it will be funny to see how this works out 😅


When Oscar didn’t think you were paying attention, he loved to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ears. You had a bad habit of having loose curls flying around, which is why you straightened your hair to an inch of its life almost every day. Oscar had been pestering you about this habit of yours for weeks now, bribing you with sweets and threatening to steal the iron. He said that your bright red hair reminded him of blood, of the invisible bond the two of you shared. You waved him off, calling him creepy, but secretly? You found it kind of poetic.
We’ve known each other since we were six. When would I lie to you? If your hair looked bad, I’d tell you.
You hated letting him win. The few arguments the two of you had never been resolved by direct confrontations. For Oscar, it was a nightmare: he was an introvert, through and through. Even if you were angry, it didn’t mean you were going to cross his boundaries. Instead, your arguments had been settled like icebreakers. A silly joke cracked by either one of you, and the tension dissolved. Neither one of you had ever conceded, but maybe it would be worth it this time.
Because Oscar Piastri, your best mate since childhood, had reached his insurmountable dream of entering Formula 1. He had signed with McLaren – a mid level team, but one with massive potential. The one thing that he could never stop talking about and spent ages fighting for, had finally happened.
So, yeah. You were willing to make some sacrifices to make Oscar happy. Never let it be said you didn’t do anything for him.
When you had found out, the notification from the official Formula 1 Instagram page appearing on your phone, you had screamed so loudly your mother had rushed into your bedroom, clutching her heart like she’d suffered a heart attack. “OSCAR MADE IT INTO FORMULA ONE!” you shrieked, tears flowing down your face. You were deliriously overwhelmed.
“Oh my God, I thought somebody killed you!” Your mum had scolded you. “Tell Oscar I said congratulations. That’s amazing. But don’t do that again to me, you understand, Y/N?”
You nodded, immediately going to the text chain for Oscar and typing up a series of messages to him. It was incredible how fast the trajectory of someone’s life could change for the better.
In the blink of an eye, your best friend was suddenly thrust into the public sphere. Now, he wasn’t just yours to admire, to love, to keep. He was everyone’s.
And suddenly, his newfound fame didn’t seem so wonderful anymore.


In the twenty years that spanned your life, you never believed that you would fall for the “sexy” British accent trap. Lots of the girls in your year – when you were at school – adored it, swooning over actors’ voices in the cinema, but personally? It wasn’t something you were fond of. You rather liked Oscar’s Australian accent: clipped, quiet. Familiar.
But then you met Lando Norris.
You were at McLaren Headquarters in Woking, touring alongside Oscar. You hadn’t asked to join him – your company and consoling presence was just an unspoken rule, especially when Oscar was forced out of his comfort zone. The building and grounds were sprawling, with a sleek modern design and blinding white lights. The raw power and the faded glory emanating from within disoriented you. You couldn’t believe that you were here, walking through halls haunted by the memories of legends.
The Brit was two years older, and a veteran in Formula 1. He was waiting for the three of you in a meeting room, and didn’t wait for the tour guide (a young woman named Shelley) to introduce himself. Lando was cocky and sure of himself, cracking jokes like it paid the bills. He was the complete opposite of Oscar, and typically, you avoided men who were outgoing.
Yet. . . something about Lando lured you in.
When Oscar was in the garage, getting to know the pit crew, you stayed behind, telling him you were tired – which was the truth. Lando waited with you, pretending like he was relaxing, scrolling through his Instagram feed.
“So. . .” he finally said, looking up from the glowing screen. “Can you believe it?”
You shrugged, as casually as you could muster. “Not really, no.”
“I’m sure Oscar is thrilled,” Lando continued. You could tell he was pushing for details, eager to know more details about his new teammate. Oscar hadn’t revealed many things about himself, one of the many reasons why you were so loyal to him. He would die before telling anyone else the secrets you told him.
You looked down at your hands, unsure of what to respond. Lando was being nice, but you felt like there was something else he wanted to know. You decided to be courteous, in case your gut was overanalyzing the situation. It did have the tendency to do that. “Yeah. In his own way.”
Lando cocked his head, searching your face for clues. “Not a very emotional guy?”
“He is, but only when he gets to know the other person. It takes time.” You swallowed, plastering on a bright smile. “He’ll warm up to you, don’t worry.”
“OK.” Lando hummed appreciatively. “Turn up the charm. I can do that.”
You chuckled, imagining Oscar’s reaction to Lando’s nearly insufferable charisma. It would be absolutely hilarious to witness it. Poor Osc.“Mhm. Good luck.”
“Thanks!” Lando grinned, obviously not detecting the sarcasm lacing your words. Then, in a serious tone, he questioned, “Could I potentially. . . have your number? I understand if not.”
“Of course,” you answered, after a beat. “Here’s my phone. You can put in your contact details here.”
A few moments later, Oscar returned to the meeting room, immediately standing by your side like a protective guard dog. You could feel the tension radiating from him, as if he were aware that you’d given Lando your cell number. “How was everything?” you asked, twisting around to look at him.
“Great,” he said, staring at Lando with a shrewd expression. “Ready to go?”
You nodded, rising from your seat. “Just about.”
“Thanks for tagging along,” Oscar said calmly, but you saw something flicker in his eyes. Was it jealousy?
You had no idea, but you were sure that it was a matter of time. Not even Oscar could keep his cards hidden for too long.
oscarpiastri replied to the Snap
Interesting song choice 🤔

You had never kept a secret before from Oscar. It wasn’t something the two of you did. You knew each other like the back of your hand, and sometimes, you really did question whether he was psychic, so there was no point to it.
Except. . . now you were hiding the biggest bombshell ever from him. OK, maybe not the largest scandal ever, but it would hurt Oscar when he found out. Which is why you were sure to act as normally as possible, so he couldn’t sniff it out.
Because you were talking to Lando Norris, his teammate, behind his back.
And you were falling for him. Hard.
He was witty. Smarter than you’d first thought, with a tongue that could send heat sparking through your skin with only a few words. So what if he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch when it came to geography or maths? Lando had a sweet, genuine soul.
He resembled Oscar in that way – trying to conceal the vulnerability that you admired so much. Everyone thought that F1 drivers had an ego, believing they were invincible. Lando disputed that, whole-heartedly, and you adored him for it.
Meanwhile, Oscar was extremely hostile to Lando. You had never seen him so distraught before, resisting cordiality despite all your efforts. It gave you an extra reason to be guarded; if he found out, there was no doubt that he would seek revenge on the track.
You couldn’t risk it.
Especially since you knew – if it came down to it – you could not choose between the two of them.
Time skip (March 2023)
f1 And that’s a wrap! Bahrain Grand Prix, the opener for the 2023 season, is completed! Astounding performance by Red Bull’s Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez.
comments 27.3k
user14 Du Du Du Max Verstappen
user15 I can already tell this season’s going to be Verstappen domination
user16 Lwk want him to dominate me
user17 Mega
redbullracing 🎉🎉
user18 Awesome start to the season!
It had been six months since you had met Lando Norris for the first time. Six months, you had been harboring a crush on Oscar’s teammate.
Six months, and you still hadn’t told Oscar.
Your heart was torn in two; part of you wanted to stay loyal to Oscar. You’d known him for ages, and you felt like dating his teammate was a betrayal.
After you confided in your mum, she had gotten so frustrated with the situation that she forbade you from talking about it anymore.
“Either do something, or don’t complain,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air.
But was more complicated than it seemed.
Because the memory of that December night was still imprinted in your mind, as if it had only transpired mere days ago. Your family had gone on a trip with Oscar’s, heading to Byron Bay for a nice summer getaway. It was almost ten p.m., and you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, if it hadn’t been for the bonfire Oscar had set up. It crackled merrily, illuminating the dark stretch of sand you were lounging on.
You were talking to Oscar, mindlessly passing the time, waiting until your parents shooed you off to bed. And then, without any warning, Oscar had kissed you, cutting you off in the middle of your sentence. You couldn’t remember now what you were talking about. The only thing your brain could comprehend was Oscar’s lips on yours. He was chaste, gentle, but when you pulled yourself closer to him, he had deepened it, ferociously clinging to you like you were his saving grace.
Oscar didn’t mention it ever again, and sometimes, you truly believed you had imagined it.
Now, three years later, you waited outside of Oscar’s driver’s room, still unsure of where you stood with him.
And you weren’t sure you’d ever know.
f1gossip Rumors are making the rounds that McLaren driver Lando Norris is dating Y/N L/N — yes, Oscar Piastri’s childhood best friend! What’s the verdict? Could there be some truth to this?
tagged yourusername, landonorris, oscarpiastri
comments 136
user19 This seems like a plot to a book 😭
user20 Oh, how I wish I were Y/N L/N
user21 Two hot eligible bachelors pining over her. . . 💔
user22 I like Lando, but Oscar suits her much better
user23 What in the ever loving rom-com is happening right now at McLaren?
user24 Yeah, no. Stick to the racing PLEASE.
user25 The papaya boys are fighting 😡

“We’re going to tell Oscar about us.”
Lando’s head tilted to the side as he absorbed your words. “What do you mean?”
You tapped your foot impatiently. “You heard me. I want to tell Oscar that we’ve been. . .You know. Talking.”
“And we’re suddenly not worried he’s going to kill me on track?”
You bit your lip. “I hate keeping secrets.”
Lando huffed, irritated. “But you don’t care that I could die?”
With an aggrieved sigh, you looked at Lando, silently imploring him to just shut up and go along with your plan. The plan that you’d quickly assembled after caving to the immense pressure of the secret you were keeping from Oscar. “Please don’t be dramatic.”
“It’s hard not to be! He’s terrifying! Like a silent serial killer. Do you have it out for me?” Lando followed you as you headed to the kitchen, brewing yourself a cup of mint tea to soothe your stomach. “Are you being serious?”
“He’s going to be here any minute now,” you murmured under your breath. “So. . .It’s a bit too late to back out now.”
Lando gasped. “Any minute now?” he repeated, disbelieving. “No fucking way.”
“Look, I know you’re nervous, but you need to calm down.” You stepped closer to Lando, cradling his face in the palm of your hands.
He tugged himself free of your grip. “Nervous is the understatement of the year.”
The doorbell rang, and Lando yelped. You rolled your eyes, walking back to the living room to unlock the door and let Oscar in.
“Is everything OK?” he immediately questioned.
You nodded, mouth going dry. “Yep,” you managed.
“You’re pale. What’s going on?” Oscar narrowed his eyes, scanning you for the reason why you were acting so strangely. “You texted me, saying there was something urgent you needed to talk to me about. So? What is it?”
You gave him a shaky smile. “Um, yeah. About that. So. . .”
“Aw, come on. Spit it out, Y/N.”
You lowered your head, avoiding eye contact. “Lando, come out of the kitchen.”
Lando edged himself out of his hiding space, ears blazing red. “Hey, mate. How are you doing?”
Oscar looked at you, then at Lando, absolutely dumbfounded. You could see the cogs in his mind whirring as he made sense of the situation. “I knew it,” he said, realization dawning on his face. “I knew you were together. Fuck.”
You glanced over at Lando, who was just as confused as you were. “Pardon?”
“This isn’t the right thing to say. I shouldn’t say this, but I’m going to.” Oscar paused, fumbling for the proper words. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you for what feels like an eternity, and I can’t watch you date my teammate without wanting you for myself.”
A small gasp left your mouth. “What?” you whispered.
“I love you, Y/N. I always have.” Oscar closed the gap between the two of you. “Call me selfish, but I want you too.”
Lando scoffed. “So, we’re going to share her or something?”
You blushed. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind.”
Oscar blinked, then smiled broadly. “That’s exactly what we’ll do.”
yourusername, oscarpiastri, and landonorris So maybe the rumors were, in fact, true. . .? 🤭
comments 7.2k
user26 I predicted it.
user27 Knew it since day one as well. There was just no way it wouldn’t happen. Y/N’s too hot.
user28 Girlboss 💖
user29 That’s my icon
user30 Now that’s a throuple I’d like to join
user31 AWWWW 🥹
mclaren Our papaya boys
user32 Oscar finally confessed. No freaking way
user33 Yeah, is the world ending? 😲
user34 Y/N is winning at life
user35 I 100% support this. They’re iconic.
Credits: Dividers — @saradika-graphics; Photos — Pinterest
#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1blr#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 smau#f1 romance#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4#landoscar#landoscar x reader
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—— ❝𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺。。 ❞𓂃۶ৎ. field of flowers.
요약 、 ᝰ.ᐟ • Being Damian’s assistant since day 1 you knew how to clean cuts, and now it was his turn.
𝜗𝜚 Damian Wayne x f! reader .ᐟ.ᐟ 𝒾nfo ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა wc. 1.485k bruises and cuts ( knife wound ) being taken care of, part of the series fr, also the reader wears glasses it could be prescribed or not, a bit ooc, flushed here means flustered presently not like pink rosy cheeks..Dick getting yelled at and being a cockblocker. blue thoughts 🫐 ➤ this has been so many ideas in one I’m not even joking
⋆ ⋮ 2ND PERSON ᝰ.ᐟ
Being on missions with Damian is hard, he’s reckless but he knows how to hold a front. But being on missions with his family, that’s a whole disaster waiting to happen at every moment. Luckily you and Alfred were the glue that held that family together, keeping everyone sane in different ways. So when you get sent out to help Damian with a mission you didn’t think much of it, only that you were strictly there to help them; get in and get out right? That’s most definitely not what happened, in a short recap you were simply fighting with Dick as Damian was doing something else ordering that Dick should keep you safe.
Practically you were taught how to fight, and of course have good reflexes, but you previously came back from being sick for a while so to put it blatantly Damian had everyone walking around eggshells. Making sure you were good and safe, well taken care of, supervised every hour of the day. He wasn’t like this when you two were younger but frankly he’s now making up for lost time, as Alfred would put it “he’s showing how much he cares for you, you are important to his life”. So when fighting with Dick, you get bruised and a few cuts happen but nothing bad, right?
Until Dick missed and accidentally hit you on the other side, a knife from wherever he got it from. Being hit by a knife felt, enticing to say the least. It’s not the worst you’ve been hit by, and at least it was on the side of your arm. You’ve been hurting all week everywhere being sick, so being who you were shrugged it off. But, Damian noticed, Dick noticed, actually everyone noticed. When it means everyone, literally everyone. Of course, the people responsible for all of the trouble caused that day ran off and away, leaving with Jason and Dick to take care of it as they knew Damian would take care of you. Before Dick had left he mumbled a little sorry, patting the side of your arm that was stabbed.
Painful, ouch, he wast trying to be nice but didn’t have enough time and didn’t think it through. Without a thought Damian immediately took you up, carrying you, giving you a piggy back ride. He couldn’t care less that your blood was dripping everywhere on him, he needed to get you home, stat. The silence was grueling of course, he didn’t even and you to waste your breath on speaking, one of these moments if it was dire it would’ve probably said “keep your mouth shut and maybe I’ll reward you later” never realizing how wrong that sounded. Reaching the Wayne manor, Damian immediately rushed you to his room sitting you down getting the med kit you always kept in his room for emergencies.
Of course he was probably uttering swears that most couldn’t understand, but you could even if you didn’t speak his language. It would make sense for him to be angry at you. You were reckless and didn’t dodge when you saw a knife, only standing there. “Habibti, you got hurt. I hate to see you hurt.” He made out small words every now and then removing the knife gently cleaning and disinfecting the wound. You could only look away too much agony to watch.
“I’m sorr—” he immediately cut your sentence off, not even letting you finishing your words as if he knew what you were going to say. “I’m not mad at you, why would I be mad at you? I’m mad at someone who I call brother, I’m mad that I trusted him to take care of you whilst I was doing something. I shouldn’t have put you in danger knowing you’ve been sick and tired. I should be saying sorry, not you, habibti.” He gently caressed your damaged arm, it now being fully clean still out of form and "ugly" to say the least. You aren’t shocked that’s for sure, Damian said a lot of stuff like that to you, he always let his guard down fully no matter what around you; other people he couldn’t bear to do that around. You were his assistant you were his best friend and even more.
“I love that you take care of me Damie, I do, I love you such much for that..” you had mumbled the last bit of the confessional to yourself even though he could probably hear it. He only scoffed a bit, he was never one to accept love. Love to him was a sacrifice that was made once and once only. You were his sacrifice in this moment.
“I care about you of course, you’re my assistant, I wouldn’t know what to do in my life without you.” The last bit of it was most definitely an exaggeration, he could live without you. But would he try is different, he liked you and the presence that you carry with him. It broke your heart a tiny bit, him not confessing it back of course. Did this midnight rendezvous mean nothing? Everything to him meant something, he just didn’t know how to express it or explain it. “Take off your shirt, I know your hurt there too.” Suddenly as you took off your shirt, you stopped in your tracks.
“Why’d you stop?” All those words he said all the time, sounded so vulgar as if he was craving you, but of course not he wasn’t. “I’d rather do it myself, it’s more comfortable..” obviously that kind of hurt him, but he has a good argument coming tugging at the bottom hem of your shirt. “Habibti, you have seen me with less than a shirt on, and the same goes for you, I’ve seen you in less.” This made the gears of your brain start shifting and turning in all the wrong ways. He obviously loved teasing you like this but you couldn’t tell if he was being serious, he wasn’t wrong at saying you’ve seen each other in less for no wrong reasons of course; but at the same time there’s moments.
“Don’t say it like that.” You were quick to react back, knowing he didn’t get certain things. He wasn’t innocent he just didn’t understand the concept of you perceiving it differently. He ended up just taking the shirt off, of course giving you a look consent. He wasn’t an animal, he wouldn’t shift you out of your comfort zone. You had a few cuts there not a lot just a few, unlucky of him to be so tall he would have to bend down taking care of the cuts that way. He kneeled in between your thighs, your hands slowly creeping to his hair gently massaging it.
There wasn’t a lot of times where he looked like an utter mess, mentally and physically. He looked like an utter mess taking care of you that’s him loving you. As he was finishing applying ointment on your cuts he took a minute to look up at you, at your full face that couldn’t seem to form one expression. He looked at your eyes, being framed by your glasses, a pretty display he would like to call it. Your lips, delicate and to him he already knew they were soft there was no doubt about that. Oh and not to mention how elegant your factual structure was to him, you meant everything just sitting there and looking all flushed. Intimate moments like these didn’t happen often, it was sad genuinely. Just as you were about to caress his face the door came bursting open, it was Dick Grayson.
“I am so sorry, obviously you’ve came back from being sick and now you’re in a vulnerable position, I just wanted to say I’m truly sorry for what I did.” Without even realizing what you and his little brother were doing he kept rambling until he just stopped, utterly stopped. He was waiting for Damian’s response, and it was obvious "get out" and so he did. Now it was just you and him and whatever awkward silence was left behind to muster in the air. “Habibti, go to bed, I’ll bring you something to drink. Alfred will come in here soon to check your wounds.” All you could do was mutter a small yes and move on. As Damian had walked out, you heard the door close and lock keeping you trapped in there with only his belongings as it was his room. What an utter annoyance right?
Until you heard that Damian was yelling at Dick with all kinds of swears, he couldn’t care less if you heard him, frankly he was still peeved that his brother ruined any chances of making out with you in that moment. At the end of the day let’s just say there was a bit of tension during dinner.
#damian wayne#x reader#jason todd#damian wayne x female reader#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x reader#damian al ghul#damain wayne#dc fanfic#dick grayson#x female reader#fluff#dc robin#robin x reader
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Unspoken Heat
a/n: I made this because this has been on my mind FOREVERRRR. Idk why, but I love Lust Quirk au's (maybe because I love the idea of feeling obsessed and feeling desperately horny)!!! I've searched high and low and there's like none with shoto and I need some with my man fr. AWW I want to have his babies so bad. I WANT TO JUMP REALITIES AND LET HIM HAVE HIS WAY WITH ME FREAKING NOWW
I was going to make them do it from multiple rounds, but it's now basically 2 am and I'm tired T-T
Todoroki x Reader
warnings: smut, desperate/needy shoto, maybe self deprecation?, idolizing too/body(or person?) worship, cursing, maybe a lil ooc pervy bakugou?
The late afternoon sun bathed Musutafu in gold, casting long shadows across the sidewalks as you and Shoto Todoroki walked side by side, patrol jackets fluttering gently in the breeze. Your third year at U.A. had brought a sense of maturity to the class of 1-A, and work studies had become a near-daily responsibility. Today, the two of you had been assigned to patrol the central district, checking alleys, deterring petty crime, and just being a presence.
You walked in a comfortable silence, the air between you warm with familiarity. It was always like this with Shoto—quiet, but never awkward. He matched your pace effortlessly, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark hero uniform, the breeze catching a loose strand of his red-and-white hair.
"You did well back there," he said after a while, his voice calm but sincere.
You glanced up at him. "You too. You always handle tense situations like they're nothing."
He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Not nothing. But... I feel more focused when you're with me."
Your heart skipped. There it was again. That subtle electricity that hummed in the space between you. A lingering gaze that lasted a beat too long. The accidental brush of hands that sent sparks across your skin. These little things happened often, but neither of you acknowledged them. You told yourself it was just closeness. Just friendship. Nothing more.
Except it never felt like just that.
As you rounded a quiet corner, your conversation was cut short by a sudden crash—a loud boom that echoed down the alleyway to your left. You and Shoto instantly fell into step, instincts sharp, bodies tense.
"This way," he muttered, already igniting frost along his right side.
You nodded, fingers flexing as your own quirk readied. When you turned the corner, a tall figure in tattered black robes stood in the center of the alley, glowing eyes visible beneath the shadow of a hood. Civilians had already fled, but the chaos told you this one wasn’t your average troublemaker.
"You two... interesting," the villain crooned. "So much tension... so much heat."
Your brows knit in confusion. "Who are you?"
The villain chuckled, raising a gloved hand. "Call me Eros. You won't remember it for long."
Without warning, a blast of pink-tinted energy surged toward you. You dodged, rolling across the pavement as Shoto countered with a jet of ice. The alley filled with steam where fire and quirk energy collided. You fought together seamlessly—as you always had—back-to-back, covering each other, coordinating with unspoken ease.
But in the chaos, one of the villain's tendrils of energy struck Shoto square in the chest.
Shoto staggered as you turned towards him to quickly observe his condition.
"Shoto!" you shouted, rushing to his side as Eros hissed and disappeared into a flicker of mist.
"I'm fine," he gasped, waving you off. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, his skin flushed a shade deeper than usual.
"You don't look fine," you said, touching his arm gently.
He flinched.
His breath hitched visibly, like your fingers were fire.
You pulled back, startled. "Shoto?"
"I'm okay," he said again, but his voice was strained, tight, like he was holding something back. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.
You frowned in concern, stepping closer to him. "Let me help you back. You don't look steady."
Shoto hesitated, jaw clenched so tightly you could see the tension in his neck. "I'm—"
You looped an arm around his waist before he could protest again, carefully easing his weight against your side. His body was warm—warmer than usual. Not from fire, but from something deeper, something internal. You didn’t think much of it, assuming it was the aftershock of the villain’s quirk. The way he leaned into you, though… something felt off.
As you guided him through the empty alley, his breathing stayed shallow and ragged. He was quiet, unusually so, but you chalked it up to exhaustion. He was always quiet. Still, you could feel how his muscles trembled beneath your touch, how tightly his fingers curled at his sides as if holding onto control by threads.
You gave a soft laugh. "Guess this villain was more annoying than dangerous, huh? Weird quirk, though. Did it feel like anything?"
His voice came after a pause, low and hoarse. "Heat. It feels like heat. Everywhere."
You gave him a sympathetic smile, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. "You probably need rest. That energy blast must’ve overwhelmed your system. You’re burning up."
He moaned softly at your touch, his jaw snapping shut, face flushing violently.
You froze. "Shoto?"
"I’m fine," he said quickly. Too quickly. But you let it go.
The walk back to the dorms was quiet. You kept a firm but gentle grip on him, not noticing the way his hand would twitch whenever your fingers grazed his hip, or how his breath caught whenever your body pressed a little too close. You didn’t see the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you spoke, or how his pulse throbbed visibly at his throat.
He noticed all of it.
Every brush of your hand. Every time your chest pressed against his arm. Every time your voice wrapped around his name like velvet. It was unbearable.
By the time you reached the dorm’s front doors, Shoto’s restraint was a fraying thread. He leaned harder into you, teeth gritted, his voice strained when he muttered, "I can get to my room. You don’t have to—"
"Don’t be stubborn. I’m helping you."
He didn’t have it in him to argue. You got him inside and helped him up the stairs. Your grip on his waist was steady, strong, and far too intimate for his overstimulated senses.
His room door clicked open, and you helped him to the edge of his bed. You reached down, kneeling to untie his boots, and when your fingers brushed his ankle, he nearly moaned.
Shame burned through him. He turned his face away, biting his lip hard.
"You really are burning up," you said softly, standing again. You touched his forehead and cheeks without hesitation, and it was like every nerve in his body exploded with want.
He couldn’t take it.
He grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, holding your hand away from his skin. You blinked at him, confused.
"Shoto...?"
His voice was raw, quiet, desperate. "Don’t. Please. I—"
You sat beside him slowly, your voice soft with worry. "Tell me what’s going on. Did the villain’s quirk do something to you?"
He looked at you finally, and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, though he fought to hide it. His cheeks were pink, his pupils blown wide, lips parted as if he couldn’t catch his breath.
"I don’t want to make you uncomfortable," he said, barely audible.
Your heart squeezed. "You won’t. I want to help you. You’re my friend, Shoto."
His chest heaved. Friend. That word stung in this moment. Everything in him screamed for more—for your mouth, your skin, your voice whispering anything but friendship.
But he swallowed it down. Forced it down.
He nodded stiffly. "Just... give me a minute. I’ll be okay."
You hesitated, then gave him a small smile. "Okay. I’ll check on you later, alright?"
When you stood and moved to the door, he gripped the bedsheets with white knuckles, shaking. As the door clicked shut behind you, he collapsed back onto the mattress, groaning in frustration.
Shoto exhaled shakily the moment the door closed, relief flooding him—he could finally stop hiding the aching erection you'd nearly grazed with your touch. Shoto stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding, hands trembling at his sides.
Gone.
You were gone.
And with your absence came a rush of relief so sharp it nearly made him groan. The pressure that had been mounting under your gaze—your concerned eyes, your soft voice, the warmth of your hand on his skin—it was unbearable. Torture. Divine, slow torture.
And now, finally, he didn’t have to hide it.
He collapsed against the edge of his bed, chest heaving as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Shit…”
His cock was throbbing, straining against the fabric of his uniform pants—aching with every beat of his heart. It had been twitching all through your touch, your voice, the way your fingers had helped him. He didn’t even dare shift in place, afraid the friction alone might make him embarrass himself in front of you.
But now?
Now he was alone. No angelic presence to stop him. No soft, innocent eyes watching him like he mattered.
“Y/n,” he breathed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. His fingers reached for his belt, unfastening it with shaky urgency. “I’m sorry…”
He whispered it like a confession—like breaking some sacred vow.
Because you weren’t supposed to be touched like this. Not by him. Not this way.
Not when he saw you as something more than he has ever seen anyone. Not when you were the only one who made him feel peace, made him feel real. You grounded him, softened the heat and chill in his blood with nothing more than a smile.
You weren’t meant to be worshipped like this—half-naked, in his fantasies, laid out across his sheets while he whispered your name with raw, needy reverence.
But god, he couldn’t help it.
He dragged his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself, his cock springing up flushed and already leaking. The cool air hit his skin and he hissed, his hips jerking slightly in response.
“I shouldn’t…” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You’re too good… too good for this.”
But the thought of you haunted him.
The innocent way you’d tilted your head earlier when asking if he was okay.
The way you’d sat between his legs to remove his shoes, completely unaware of how close your face had been to his erection. He’d had to clench his fists to stop from reaching out, from grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto him.
He wanted to see your eyes widen in shock—and then flutter closed with pleasure.
He wanted to hear you say his name, needy and breathless, while your walls fluttered around him.
“Fuck…” His head fell back, hand tightening around the base of his cock. The pressure shot straight to his gut, stars dotting his vision. “Y/n… you’d feel so good…”
He stroked himself slowly at first, thumb brushing over the head, smearing pre-cum down the shaft. Every tug of his fist sent a shiver through him, every breath a broken whisper of your name.
He imagined you hovering over him, straddling his lap, your soft thighs pressing against his hips.
He’d hold you gently—reverently—like you were breakable. Because you were. To him, at least.
Your touch alone had undone him.
He remembered that time you’d fallen asleep beside him during a movie night. The way your head had lolled onto his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. He’d stared at the ceiling for hours after that, trying not to think about how natural it felt to have you close, to feel the weight of your trust in the curve of your body leaning against his.
Now, he pictured you like that—eyes fluttering open, lips parted, whispering his name as you straddled and sank down onto him.
He moaned, louder this time, stroking harder now. His hips bucked into his hand.
“I need you,” he choked out, voice strangled with desperation. “I need you so bad…”
His thighs tensed, abs flexing as the pressure built in his core—tight, scorching, unbearable. His free hand fisted the sheets beside him, knuckles white. Every inch of him burned, a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re in my head—every damn second. I can’t stop thinking about you…”
His rhythm grew frantic—painful in its urgency.
Visions of you danced behind his eyes—arching for him, panting, whispering his name with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.
“I’d take care of you… so gently…” he gasped. “You’d never have to beg. I’d give you everything.”
And with a strangled cry, his hips jerked off the mattress, his orgasm tearing through him like wildfire. Hot spurts coated his fist and belly, and he trembled through it—breathless, helpless, shattered.
He collapsed backward, chest rising and falling with shallow pants, your name still on his lips.
But the ache didn’t stop.
The fire didn’t fade.
The lust quirk still pulsed through his bloodstream, and the emptiness that followed release felt worse now—like he’d only scratched the surface of how badly he needed you.
He covered his face with one arm and let out a broken groan.
“…It’s not enough,” he whispered, voice cracked and hoarse. “God… it’s not enough…”
He didn’t know how long he could last before something snapped.
Before he snapped.
And the worst part was… all he really wanted was you. Not your body. Not your moans. Just… you. In his arms. Real.
And he didn’t know what to do with that kind of need.
Minutes dragged into an hour.
Shoto had changed out of his sticky boxers and his pants. The fabric kept clinging to his still-sensitive cock, and every accidental brush reignited that searing tension coiled low in his stomach.
The orgasm should’ve helped.
It should’ve.
But instead, it left him feeling more wrecked. More hollow.
He sat at the edge of his bed again, hunched over, damp strands of his two-toned hair clinging to his forehead. His shirt stuck to the light sweat on his back, and his thighs were tense, twitching occasionally from the phantom memory of your fingertips brushing his skin.
Why do you have this effect on me…?
He dragged a palm down his face, then through his hair, breathing hard. His cock had begun to swell again—painfully so, full and pulsing, begging for attention he was ashamed to give. Not again. Not with your voice still echoing in his head, the memory of your worried expression haunting him.
You were just being kind. That’s all.
He had to clench his jaw, dig his nails into the sheets, force himself not to buck his hips upward into the air like an animal in heat. The only thing that kept him from doing something reckless was the reverent, aching love he carried for you.
You’re too good for this, he told himself again.
You were sweet. Good-hearted. Light in his otherwise silent world. He’d seen the way you laughed with Kaminari, comforted Iida, sparred with Bakugou without flinching. You were so alive. And you let him be near that warmth.
You weren’t supposed to be the star of his darkest fantasies.
But it was impossible not to remember the way your lips parted when you were surprised—or the breathy little laugh you made when someone flustered you. The way your hoodie would ride up when you stretched after training, revealing the soft slope of your stomach and the waistband of your gym shorts.
And worst of all, that one time you’d laid down on the training room mats after a particularly brutal session. You’d been exhausted, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, limbs spread lazily. He remembered it too well. The sight had burned itself into his memory—your bare legs, the arch of your back, your chest rising and falling.
He’d had to excuse himself to the showers that day. Freezing cold. And it hadn’t helped.
Now, as the lust quirk sizzled through every nerve ending, that memory surged back with dizzying intensity.
His cock twitched, leaking steadily, He groaned and pressed the heel of his hand against it, trying to will the heat away.
“I can’t… I can’t keep doing this…” he whispered to himself, voice thick with guilt.
His hips rocked against his own palm, almost involuntarily. He breathed through his teeth.
“Y/n… fuck—” his hand curled tighter, knuckles white. “You’re perfect. Too perfect.”
The pressure built again, sweat beading on his brow, thighs tensing as he gritted his teeth through the sensation. He bit down a whimper.
She doesn’t even know what she does to me.
He wanted to be strong. To fight it. But he was slipping—crumbling, second by second. His body was betraying him, trembling with the need to be touched, held, taken apart.
And only you could do it.
Only you had the power to pull him from this precipice.
But you weren’t here.
And all he could do was ache.
You tapped your phone again, hoping for a new notification. Still nothing.
"He's acting weird," you muttered, voice just above the background buzz of chatter . You slumped into the chair beside Midoriya, pulling your knees up to hug them against your chest. "I haven’t heard from him since he went to his room."
Midoriya blinked, setting his chopsticks down. "Was it a bad patrol?"
"No," you said slowly. "He got hit by the villain’s quirk."
Midoriya straightened. "Oh—are you okay? Did it affect you too?"
"No, just him." You hesitated. “I think it… affected him in a weird way.”
Bakugou snorted from across the table where he sat with Kirishima and Denki, arms crossed, eyes narrowing like you’d just piqued his curiosity.
"You check if it’s some mental quirk? Might be messin’ with his head," he said gruffly.
"He seemed flushed," you said, cheeks warming as the memory surfaced. “Sensitive. Even when I just touched his arm.”
Kirishima blinked. "Wait, like—physically sensitive?"
"Yeah," you nodded. “It was like even the smallest touch startled him. He got all stiff and wouldn’t look me in the eye.”
Denki leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Yo, wait, wait—are we talking, like, sensitive sensitive?”
You gave him a look. “What does that even mean?”
Kirishima, bless him, looked torn between smacking Denki or laughing. “Bro…”
Bakugou leaned in just a little, voice low and laced with mock innocence. “You sure you didn’t touch somewhere you weren’t supposed to, Princess?”
You choked on your own spit. “Bakugou!”
Kirishima and Denki burst into laughter.
"Man, what if he got hit with some kinda… y’know, body stimulation quirk?" Denki waggled his eyebrows. "Could be a total sensory overload."
You slapped your hands over your cheeks, trying to will away the heat that exploded across them.
"I'm going to sit with the girls," you muttered, standing up quickly and grabbing your half-finished plate. “You guys are the worst.”
“Aw, c’mon, we’re just teasing!” Kirishima called after you, still laughing.
"She totally touched his dick," Denki whispered to Bakugou, loud enough for you to hear.
"Wouldn't blame her," Bakugou muttered with a smirk. "That half-n-half bastard probably gets hard just hearing her voice."
Your face was on fire.
You stormed over to the girls’ side of the room and flopped down between Yaoyorozu and Uraraka.
“Rough crowd?” Mina asked with a sly grin.
You groaned. “The boys are being idiots.”
“They probably are,” Yaoyorozu agreed gently. “But are you okay? You seem genuinely upset.”
You sat up, clutching the pillow to your chest. “It’s Shoto. He got hit with a villain’s quirk today on patrol. He’s been acting weird ever since. Flushed, tense, avoiding eye contact—just… not himself.”
Uraraka tilted her head. “Was it a mind-affecting quirk?”
“No. It was weird. The villain kept saying strange stuff, like… we had tension or something. The quirk looked pink, kind of foggy. Like mist.”
Mina’s eyes widened. “Wait. Was the villain hot? Or like… sexy in a weird way?”
You blinked. “Uh. I mean… no? Just creepy.”
Mina leaned forward, suddenly excited. “Girl, I think it was a lust quirk.”
Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened. “That would explain the symptoms. Heightened arousal. Sensitivity. Mood imbalance.”
“You’re saying Shoto’s—”
“—basically dying of sexual frustration right now,” Mina finished, dead serious.
Your mouth dropped open.
“I-I didn’t mean to—I helped him back to his room earlier, I didn’t know—he was all flushed, and I thought he was feverish!”
Momo gently laid a hand on your knee. “If that’s what it is, he’s probably overwhelmed and embarrassed. But the quirk will fade. It always does.”
“Yeah, but,” you said softly, voice tight, “I left him alone. What if he’s not okay in there?”
Uraraka gave you a gentle nudge. “Then maybe you should go check on him again.”
Mina smirked. “Just, uh… knock first.”
You buried your face in your hands, groaning as the girls giggled and Momo offered a supportive smile.
You excused yourself from the table as soon as you could, and walked to the stairs. You climbed up the stairs two at a time. The hallway felt colder than usual as you made your way toward Shoto’s room.
You hesitated in front of his door.
Was this really a good idea? The girls had all but convinced you it was a lust quirk—and if that was true…
You took a deep breath and knocked softly.
Silence.
“Shoto…?” you called, pressing your ear lightly against the door.
Still nothing. But then—you heard it.
A muffled gasp.
The noise worried you a little. Especially since he hadn't answered you the first time either. You determined he must have not been doing anything too intimate, since you hadn't heard anything else. Your worry and curiosity for the poor boy took over.
“Shoto?” you whispered again, pushing the door open gently.
And then you saw him.
The room was dim, lit only by the low glow of his lamp. His hero uniform was strewn in pieces across the floor—jacket, gloves, undershirt. He sat on the edge of his bed, drenched in sweat, pants shoved halfway down his thighs. His chest rose and fell with heavy, labored breaths, one hand clenched in the blankets, the other wrapped tight around the thick length of his cock—slick, flushed, and painfully hard.
Your breath caught.
His eyes snapped up to meet yours.
For a second, neither of you moved. His face was a masterpiece of desperation—lips parted, cheeks flushed, a single line of sweat trailing down the curve of his neck. His eyes were wild with shame… and something deeper. Something darker.
“Y/n—” he rasped, voice cracking, utterly wrecked.
You stumbled a step back, stunned. “I—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—!”
He groaned and turned away, jerking a blanket over his lap with a shaky hand. “Don’t go…”
That stopped you cold.
“I can’t—fuck—” His voice broke as he hunched forward, hiding his face in his hand. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It hurts.”
You stood frozen in the doorway, heart hammering in your chest.
“I tried,” he said hoarsely. “God, I tried so hard to hold it in. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Shoto…” you whispered, taking a tentative step inside.
“You were so close earlier,” he said, trembling. “ I could smell you, feel your warmth, and all I could think about was how perfect you looked… like you belonged there.”
Your knees weakened. “Shoto, the villain—”
“I don’t care about the damn villain,” he snapped, but not angrily. Desperately. “I’ve wanted you since before that fight. The quirk just made it worse. I can’t fucking breathe without needing you.”
The air felt electric. You could barely comprehend what you were seeing—what he was saying.
He leaned back slightly, eyes glinting through the shadows as he looked up at you. “You make everything feel quiet. Peaceful. Like I’m not broken.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
His gaze dropped to your lips.
“If I let myself touch you… I wouldn’t be able to stop.”
He clenched the blanket, jaw tightening. “You deserve better than that. Better than me losing control like some animal.”
But even as he said it, his hips twitched beneath the fabric.
“Then tell me to leave,” you said, softly.
His breath hitched.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
You step fully into Shoto’s room and quietly click the lock behind you. The soft sound seems to echo in the stillness, heightening the tension that already simmers in the air.
“Then don’t, Shoto,” you whisper, voice trembling with emotion.
His breath catches as he looks up at you—eyes wide, glassy with disbelief, as if his mind can't accept that this is real even as his body aches for you. His gaze roams over your figure, lingering, drinking you in with something between awe and hunger. You shift nervously under his stare, suddenly unsure of what to do next.
You’ve imagined moments like this before—soft, dreamy fragments tucked away in your mind during quiet nights—but now that it’s real, your hands feel too still, your heartbeat too loud. Do you kiss him? Touch him? Say something?
Your eyes flicker downward, catching the way the blanket over his lap rises and twitches with every breath he takes. The shape of him beneath the fabric is impossible to ignore. Just seeing you standing there like this—seeing him barely clothed and willing—is making him grind subtly against the blanket, his face twisting in pleasure so intense it’s nearly painful.
He hisses softly, trying—and failing—to stifle a low moan.
And that’s when it hits you.
He doesn’t need something perfect or rehearsed. He just needs you.
Taking a deep breath, you cross the room and straddle his lap, your knees sinking on either side of him. His breath stutters again, eyes locking with yours as his hands automatically find your waist, large and warm and trembling slightly. His hips jerk upward once, just barely, like his body can’t stop seeking yours.
His fingers dig gently into your sides, groping with reverence and need, as though he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you in his hands. The last of his restraint is hanging by a thread—and you can feel it fraying.
Your cheeks burn as your eyes lower, hooded with desire. “Shoto… don’t hold back,” you murmur. “You can touch me. I want you to.”
His gaze meets yours—dark and unreadable, but smoldering with something desperate and deep. You feel his breath fan across your lips as you slowly reach down and pull the blanket away.
Your eyes widen involuntarily. You knew he was big—had guessed from the way he shifted or adjusted sometimes—but now, seeing the reality of him, it steals your breath. Heat rushes to your face and pools deep in your stomach.
Before your thoughts can spiral, Shoto’s strong hand tilts your chin up, guiding your gaze back to him. And then his lips crash into yours—fervent, hungry, needy. The kiss is all-consuming. It’s not gentle. It’s not patient. It’s a confession. A surrender. A firestorm.
His mouth moves against yours like he’s starved for the taste of you, like you’re the only thing keeping him sane. You gasp into the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair, and that sound—you making that sound—shatters what little control he has left.
Everything about you is too much. The way you touched him. The way you looked at him. The softness of your skin, the way your breath caught when he kissed you, the tiny tremble in your voice when you whispered his name. Every second with you is a temptation too potent to bear.
“I need you,” he murmurs against your lips, voice wrecked. “You have no idea how much I’ve needed you.”
And he means it—body and soul.
Shoto flipped you gently onto your back, his touch reverent despite the heat rolling off him like a tidal wave. His lips crashed against yours again—hungry, unrelenting. You could feel how much he needed you in every kiss, every shuddering breath, every shaky brush of his fingers across your waist.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses, his voice hoarse and barely coherent. “If I’m being too rough… I—God, I don’t mean to be…”
His hips rolled helplessly against yours, the thick heat of him dragging against your soaked underwear, barely restrained. You gasped, your back arching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation.
“You’re not,” you managed, lips brushing his. “I want this. I want you.”
But he couldn’t stop—he couldn’t stop rutting against you, shame and pleasure colliding behind his blown pupils.
“I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to use you—I just… I need you so bad I’m losing my mind…”
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, grounding him. “Then let me help you,” you whispered. “You don’t have to hold back.”
He let out a sound between a groan and a sob, his forehead pressed against yours as his hips stuttered and trembled. You felt him tense—and then melt into you with a breathy gasp, his whole body shivering in release. Shame crept into his features immediately, his eyes flickering away, jaw clenched like he couldn’t bear to look at you.
But you cupped his cheek gently.
“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay. I’m still here.”
He kissed you again, slower this time—aching, longing, as though he couldn’t believe you were real.
And then his hands reached for your shirt, brushing it up slowly, hesitantly, until you nodded. His breath caught as each inch of your skin was revealed—his gaze hungry but awestruck, like he was looking at something sacred.
“Can I…?” he asked, voice trembling.
“Yes,” you whispered, heart pounding.
But when he began to shift, ready to press himself to you again, you touched his chest, stopping him gently.
“Wait,” you said, flushed. “You’re… really big, Shoto. I need to… prep a little first.”
His eyes widened, and he nearly choked on a breath. “Oh. Right—I—I didn’t think—”
His hands gripped the sheets beside you like restraint was physically painful.
“I’ll just—start slow,” you murmured, even more flustered now.
You slid a hand between your thighs, trying not to focus on the fact that he was watching—completely still, utterly silent. But when your fingers dipped past the hem of your underwear, he whimpered—actually whimpered—like he was in pain.
“You’re perfect,” he breathed. “Everything you do—every little movement—it’s…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.
You gasped softly as your own touch teased along your entrance, trying to ease the tension inside you. It was vulnerable, messy, and deeply intimate—but the way Shoto watched you made it feel sacred. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted, and his hand twitched—itching to touch you.
“I can’t,” he breathed. “I can’t just watch…”
He knelt between your thighs, and before you could stop him, he took over—his fingers brushing yours aside, sliding in so gently, so perfectly it made your breath catch.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, voice shaking with restraint. “I want to make you feel good… not hurt you.”
You moaned, clutching his wrist as he moved inside you, curling his fingers just right. The pleasure hit fast—your body already hypersensitive from everything that had come before. When your release crashed over you, it made you tremble, thighs locking around his hand as you cried his name.
His jaw clenched. He looked at the wetness coating his fingers—then brought them to his mouth.
“Oh my god…” he groaned as he tasted you, eyes fluttering shut like he’d been starving and just got a taste of heaven. “I’ve waited so long to know what you taste like…”
And he didn’t stop there.
He leaned in, slowly, reverently, and lowered his mouth between your thighs as he pulled you underwear aside.
The last thing you saw before you cam again was the look in his eyes. It was as though they were screaming "I worship you".
“I’ve wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured, lips brushing your thigh as he just finished making you see stars with his tongue against your pussy. “But I don’t think I can tonight.”
You exhaled, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Then don’t hold back.”
His hands explored your skin like he was learning it by touch alone—slow, sure, until he reached the waistband of your underwear.
His fingers hooked around the fabric, but he paused.
“Tell me again,” he breathed, his forehead pressed to yours. “That you want this. That you want me.”
“I do,” you said without hesitation. “I want you, Shoto. All of you.”
He groaned—deep and quiet—and tugged your underwear down, revealing all of you to him. His eyes trailed down your body, reverent and ravenous all at once.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes you do. Shoto show me,” you said, pulling him back to you. “Show me how much you want me.”
That’s when he moved—slow, steady. His body fit between your thighs like he was meant to be there. His lips found your chest, worshiping you there, one hand caressing your hip as if grounding himself to the moment.
And when he finally aligned himself with you, his breath caught in his throat.
“You’re so warm…” he murmured, voice breaking as he started to ease in. “So tight. You feel like heaven.”
You gasped softly, your hands gripping his arms. The stretch, the fullness—it was intense. But Shoto never stopped watching you, checking your every expression, every sound you made, as he moved deeper inside.
When he was fully seated within you, he shuddered. His head dropped to your shoulder, and he held you there for a long moment, unmoving.
“I could stay like this forever,” he whispered, almost broken. “You’re everything.”
You kissed his temple, running your hands down his back. “Then don’t hold back, Shoto. I want to feel everything.”
He began to move.
Slow at first—deep, rolling thrusts that had your breath catching and your legs tightening around his waist. He moved like he was savoring every second, every squeeze of your body around him, every sound that spilled from your lips.
And then he picked up the pace.
His rhythm became desperate, intense, the bed shifting with the force of his need. He moaned your name into your neck, his grip on your hips growing tighter. Each thrust pushed you further into the bed, and yet all you wanted was more.
“Y/n—God, I can’t—I’m so close—” he gasped, voice rough and trembling.
You cupped his cheek, pulling him back to look into your eyes. “Then let go. I’m yours.”
The moment those words left your mouth, he buried himself deep and spilled inside you with a groan so guttural, so raw, it sent a shiver through your entire body. Not long after that your climax spilled from your tight walls as well, which pulled a shudder from the both of you. He trembled above you, clutching you like you were the only thing holding him to earth.
You held him as he came down, his chest heaving against yours, the sweat between your bodies making you stick to one another. Still, neither of you moved. The only sound was your breathing—steadying slowly as your fingers stroked through his damp hair and the lust quirk finally starting to wear off.
After a long moment, Shoto looked up at you, his expression soft. Reverent. Almost tearful.
“I love you,” he said. “I think I always have.”
You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I love you too. I think I always have too".
#my hero fluff#my hero academia#my hero smut#my hero fanfic#my hero x reader#shoto x reader#shoto torodoki#shoto fluff#shoto smut#shoto todoroki#lust quirk#todoroki x reader#todoroki smut#todoroki shouto#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki shoto smut#my hero acedamia#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha smut#bnha todoroki#bnha shoto
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Day 5: No need for poetry
@azrielappreciationweek
Masterlist
Azriel had the biggest crush he had ever had. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining your life together and having so many date ideas he wanted to ask you out on.
The only problem is, you didn’t know him.
He really didn’t know you either, but for weeks the only thing he could think of was you.
How happy you looked working at your bookshop. How your smile made all the bad things in the world disappear. And how you made both the butterflies in his stomach and his shadows go crazy with the familiar feeling of crushing.
He definitely wasn’t playing it cool, for soon both Nesta and worse than that, Cassian, knew about his crush.
“Just ask her out!” Nesta urged him. “She’s the sweetest! Even if she does reject you, which I’m sure she won’t, she will do it kindly.”
That didn’t help his case at all.
What if he build up the confidence to ask you out and you end up rejecting him? He won’t ever recover.
“Why are you this nervous?” Cassian asked him. “It’s not like you haven’t asked out a female before.”
Of course he had asked out females before, but that was usually just to have sex. He never actually met females he wanted to date. He wanted to cook dinner with you and read with you and go for romantic walks. It was a totally new experience.
“I’m not nervous,” he grumbled back.
“Az, your shadows,” Cassian pointed towards the black blob of shadows in the corner of the room. They were shaking in both excitement and fear.
Azriel waved his hand through them and made them act more neutral. He looked back at his friends and saw both their smug smiles.
“Shut up,” he just said and started to leave the room.
“Az?” He stopped and turned to look at Nesta. “I have this book I need picked up from a certain someone’s bookshop. Can you do that for me?”
Azriel didn’t know who he was when he immediately answered yes and went to the bookshop.
It was surprisingly empty when he walked into the shop. He was immediately relaxed from the cozy atmosphere and comforting smell.
“Hello,” you said from the counter and Azriel felt his heartbeat grow faster from just the sound of your voice. “Can I help you?”
He had to pick up courage with a deep breath before he walked up to you.
“I was sent to pick up a book for Nesta Archeron,” he said and tried to keep his voice from shaking.
“Oh, yes! She’s been so excited to read this one! And I’ve really been looking forward to talk about it with someone. Give me a moment!”
You turned around and looked through the big stack of books that stood on the counter beside her.
“Ask her out,” his shadows started to whisper to him. “She wants you to.”
He just shook his head at them.
You turned around and Azriel suddenly noticed one of his shadows playing with your hair.
He immediately pulled it back.
“Behave”
He felt the shadows laugh back at him.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said after clearing his throat.
“No worries,” you answered with the smile that made his knees weak. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes and studied all the small details in your face that he hadn’t seen from a distance. She handed him the book. “Nesta already paid. Do you need a bag?”
“You too,” he said and his eyes widened at the realization that he absolutely did not answer your question.
He just shook his head and gave you a small smile before he rushed out of the shop.
He hid in his shadows for the rest of the day.
“Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” Cassian said as he dumped as few small books on the table in fr of him.
“Poetry” his shadows let him know.
“I don’t need a poetry lesson, Cass,” he told his brother and let his annoyance show.
“Well, you haven’t been able to ask her out otherwise and right now you are “Nesta’s weird friend”.”
Azriel got embarrassed by the amount of happiness he felt from knowing you spoke about him.
“I don’t need to resort to poetry,” Azriel continued.
“Okay then big guy,” Cassian mocked him. “Prove it.”
That’s when it started. Azriel realized Cassian wasn’t the only one that had enough of Azriel’s crush. His shadows were also annoyed.
So they started watching you. Azriel asked them to stay away multiple times, but they refused to listen.
The only problem was that this only made Azriel’s crush bigger, because the shadows told him about every part of your day.
“Smiles, laughing, singing, talking to her dog, talking to herself about what to have for dinner.”
Azriel started to wonder if his shadows crushed more on you than he did and then he remembered that the shadows acted on his emotions.
One day, the shadows gave him a particular informative message about you.
“Stupid male, mean, pretty smile cry.”
It made Azriel stop in his tracks. You were crying? Someone had said something mean enough to make you, a female that smiled and laughed every second of every day, cry? He needed to do something.
“What can I do?”
“Lonely” was his shadows only answer.
That’s when he realized that maybe asking you out would actually go well. So he started to prepare.
“Favorite food?”
“Pizza.”
“Flowers?” His shadows informed him of the old flowers on your kitchen table.
“Today?”
“Yes”
That’s why he got dressed, flew down from the House of Wind and went to a flower shop before he went to the bookshop.
You stood inside dusting and preparing to close the store when he came in.
“Hello, again,” you greeted him when he walked in even though it only was two minutes until you were closing. He smiled at you. “Can I help you?”
He straightened his back and tightened his wings to try to build confidence.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me,” he asked you.
Your face lit up with an amazing smile.
“I would love that,” you answered and Azriel felt himself get ten kilos lighter. “When were you thinking?”
Now, today.
“I can whenever, what works the best for you?” He asked and impressed himself by the lightness in his voice.
“I’m available now if you just give me a few minutes to change,” you answered.
“That sounds good,” Azriel replied and tried not to fidget to much with the flowers.
The flowers!
“These are for you by the way,” he answered and handed her the yellow bouquet.
“Thank you. Did you know that yellow is my favorite color?” You asked him.
“A few companions of mine might have told me,” he said and hoped you wouldn’t freak out that his shadows had been spying on you.
“I thought so.”
Azriel looked confused.
“You thought so?” He asked.
“I mean,” you started. “I didn’t have shadows braiding my hair every second of every day before I met you.”
First now Azriel noticed the two small braids that had been made in your hair. And he suddenly felt his face become warm.
“Just give me five minutes,” you said with a laugh and left the room.
“I can’t believe you,” he told his shadows.
“It was either that or poetry,” they taunted him back.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azrielappreciationweek2024#azrielappreciationweek#azriel appreciation week
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Your supernatural fic made me miss the show! Haven't watched in so long!
Can I request a bucky one?
Something angst with a happy ending?
Sorry I'm so sleepy deprived I can't get specific....
Oh maybe reader hiding an injury because they don't want the team to be worried
Here we go lovely 🤍
Unseen wounds
You are scared of burdening the team with a serious injury so you decide to hide it. Only for Bucky to find you and come to your aid.
Warnings - none only angst

The mission had been a success—or at least, that’s what everyone kept saying. But Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It gnawed at him during the ride back, a dull ache in the back of his mind that only worsened as he glanced at you, tucked away in the corner of the jet. You were too quiet, too still, your head turned toward the window to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.
He knew you. Knew the way you laughed when the team cracked jokes, the way you always helped Natasha clean her weapons even if you didn’t have to, and the way you wore your stress on your sleeve. This wasn’t you.
When the jet landed, you bolted before anyone could stop you.
Something was definitely wrong.
Bucky’s gut twisted as he searched the compound. You weren’t in the kitchen, the common area, or the training room. The rest of the team had dispersed, too caught up in their post-mission routines to notice your absence. But Bucky couldn’t let it go.
He checked your room last, his hand tightening on the doorframe as he heard a faint sound from inside. A muffled cry.
“Doll? You in there?” he called, his voice steady despite the rising panic in his chest.
No answer.
His metal hand gripped the doorknob, the cool vibranium grounding him just enough to keep his head clear.
“Come on, don’t shut me out,” he said, softer this time.
When the silence stretched, he used the spare key you’d given him, promising himself he’d only ever use it in emergencies.
The sight that greeted him made his heart stop.
You were slumped on the floor, your hand pressed tightly against your side. Blood seeped through your jacket, staining your shirt and pooling on the hardwood beneath you.
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered, rushing to your side.
You flinched when he knelt next to you, your eyes wide with panic.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.
“I didn’t want to—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, his jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t want to worry us.”
Your lips trembled, and his anger evaporated as quickly as it came, replaced by a crushing wave of guilt.
“God,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair as his eyes scanned the wound. “How bad is it? Can you—can you move?”
You shook your head, tears spilling over. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I thought I could handle it.”
“Handle it?” Bucky’s voice cracked, and he pressed a hand against your uninjured shoulder, his metal fingers trembling as he steadied you. “You’re bleeding out, and you thought you could handle it?”
His chest ached as he worked quickly, retrieving the first aid kit he always kept nearby. Cleaning the wound wasn’t easy; your soft whimpers of pain tore at him, each one hitting him like a physical blow.
“This is going to sting,” he warned, his voice low and tight as he poured antiseptic over the cut.
You bit down on your lip, a choked cry escaping despite your efforts to stay silent.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice softening. “I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, alright?”
The wound was deep—too deep for the makeshift stitches he applied. You needed real medical attention, but getting you to the med bay without drawing attention would be nearly impossible.
When he finished wrapping the bandage around your torso, he leaned back, his hands shaking as he stared at the blood on his fingers.
“This never should’ve happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You looked up at him, your face pale and drawn. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” you murmured.
Bucky froze, his stomach twisting painfully.
“A burden?” he echoed, his voice breaking. “Do you really think I’d ever see you that way?”
You didn’t respond, your silence cutting deeper than any Hydra blade ever could.
“Do you know what it’s like?” he said, his voice rising as the words spilled out, unfiltered and raw. “To see someone you care about like this? To know they’re in pain and didn’t trust you enough to ask for help?”
Your eyes widened, tears slipping down your cheeks.
“Bucky, I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean to what? Make me feel like I failed you?” He shook his head, his metal hand gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that it groaned under the pressure. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve seen it.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice weak but earnest.
He let out a bitter laugh, the sound filled with anguish. “Of course it is. It’s always my fault. I was right there, and I didn’t see what was happening. Just like I didn’t see what Hydra was doing to me, just like I didn’t see the signs when people needed me before…”
His voice trailed off, his eyes glistening as he turned back to you.
“I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice breaking completely. “Not you.”
You reached out, your hand resting gently on his metal one.
“You didn’t fail me,” you said softly, your voice trembling but sure. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Bucky closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath as he clung to your words. He lowered himself to the floor beside you, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers intertwined with yours.
“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” you said, squeezing his hand.
And in that moment, Bucky made a promise of his own. He’d protect you, no matter what. Because losing you wasn’t an option. Not ever.
#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#angst bucky#bucky angst#marvel smut#bucky x yn#bucky fic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x comfort#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x y/n
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Bucky vs. Book
^Bucky on his way to you fr^
Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.
Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)
Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff.
A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
“Bucky?” Sam asked.
“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.
“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”
“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud.
“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.
Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs.
He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.
Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.
He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.
“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.
“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.
“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.
“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.
“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it.
“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.
That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book.
“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!”
“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.
“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.
Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it.
“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”
You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.
Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.
“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”
“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”
Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch.
“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.
“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back.
“Thank you, Bucky,”
“I’ve got you, doll.”
“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.
You looked at Bucky.
“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”
Thank you for reading!
My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)
Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.
#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky angst#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic
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Is it oo if u do randal x reader who has a similar personality to him? No rush and you dont have to do it if you dont wanna! :D
You and I
Randal x Reader oneshot!!
tbf i actually kind of liked this one! There is also Sebastian since i haven't written him for a while so hope u enjoy that!!
Randal first saw you crouched near the playground, dragging a stick through a patch of mud with impressive dedication. Most kids were playing talking about more 'trivial' matters, but you? You were sculpting what looked like… an angry face with sharp teeth.
“What’s that?” Randal asked, appearing beside you out of nowhere like he always did.
You barely glanced at him, but a small smirk tugged at your lips. “A monster. His name’s Chuck. He eats toes.”
Randal cackled, crouching down beside you. “Toes, huh? Nice. Can I add something?”
You shrugged. “Go for it.”
Randal snatched another stick and started adding spiky hair and a pair of wild, mismatched eyes to Chuck’s face. By the time recess ended, the two of you had turned the mud patch into a whole grotesque masterpiece. And just like that, you were friends!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Fast forward a few years, and not much had changed. You and Randal were still inseparable partners in chaos, thriving on mischief and mayhem. Which is why you were currently sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the forest, waiting for him.
“He’s late,” you muttered, flicking a pinecone across the dirt. It wasn’t unusual for Randal to lose track of time, but it was still annoying. You had big plans for today—things involving mud, trees, and possibly fire if you could get away with it.
Finally, you heard the familiar sound of mismatched footsteps crunching through the underbrush. “Hey, bunny!” Randal called, grinning as he emerged from the shadows.
“About time,” you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your jeans. “What took you so long?”
Randal shrugged, his grin widening. “Luther made me clean up my dolls before I left. He said if I didn’t, he’d ‘lock me in the bad boys closet.’” He mimicked Luther’s deep, monotone voice, then rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop me.”
You snickered. “Big brother sounds fun.”
“Oh, he’s a blast,” Randal said sarcastically, waving a hand. “Anyway, guess who I brought with me?”
Before you could ask, Sebastian stumbled into view, looking as miserable as ever. His costume was rumpled, his hair was a mess, and his expression screamed help me.
“I didn’t agree to this,” Sebastian muttered, glaring at Randal.
“Yes, you did,” Randal shot back cheerfully. “By not running fast enough when I grabbed you.”
Sebastian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why am I here? I have better things to do than.. indulge .. you two ..psychos.”
“Because we’re fun,” you said, grinning as you leaned against a tree. “And because Randal said so.”
Sebastian sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath about “crazy people” and “needing a better escape plan.”
After some bickering and a lot of laughter (mostly from you and Randal), the three of you decided to play hide and seek. Randal, of course, was the seeker.
“Thirty seconds, then I’m coming for you!” Randal announced, turning to face a tree and covering his eyes. “One… two…”
Sebastian immediately began running.. and running?? clearly aiming to get as far away as possible. You, on the other hand, had a better plan.
Spotting a tall tree with thick branches, you grinned and started climbing. The bark was rough under your hands, but you didn’t care. You loved heights—the higher, the better.
By the time Randal yelled, “Ready or not, here I come!” you were perched near the top of the tree, peering down at the forest below. You could see Sebastian skulking around the base of another tree, glancing nervously over his shoulder his breath ragged from the previous running.
“Hey, Sebastian!” you called, waving.
He looked up, his jaw dropping. “Are you insane? Get down from there!”
You laughed, swinging your legs. “Why? Afraid of heights?”
Sebastian scowled. “No, I’m afraid of you falling and breaking your neck. Which I’m not helping you with, by the way.”
“Oh, come on,” you said, standing on the branch like a circus performer. “It’s not that high.”
“It’s at least twenty feet!”
“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Watch this!”
Before he could protest, you jumped. The air rushed past you in a thrilling blur, and you landed in a crouch a few feet away from Sebastian.
“Ta-da!” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.
Sebastian stared at you, his face pale. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Yep,” you said, grabbing his arm. “Now it’s your turn!”
“What—no—hey!” Sebastian yelped as you started dragging him toward the tree.
Ignoring his protests, you climbed the tree again, this time with him in tow. He clung to you like a terrified cat, muttering a string of curses under his breath.
“Relax,” you said, grinning. “I’ve got you.”
“This is not relaxing...”
By the time you reached the top, Sebastian was practically vibrating with anxiety. “I hate this. I hate you. I hate Randal.”
“You love us,” you said, laughing. “Now look! Isn’t the view great?”
Sebastian hesitantly glanced around, ,his expression hardened.
“No it isn't."
“Ouch.”
Down below, Randal was wandering aimlessly, calling out in a sing-song voice. “Sebaaaastian… Y/N… I know you’re around here somewhere!”
You grinned mischievously, leaning down to yell, “Up here, loser!”
Randal’s head snapped up, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Awesome! Can I join you?”
Sebastian groaned. “Please don’t.”
Of course, Randal ignored him and started climbing the tree.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
As Randal climbed the tree, you shifted your weight on the branch, causing it to sway slightly. Sebastian immediately clutched the trunk like his life depended on it.
“Can you not?” Sebastian hissed, shooting you a panicked glare. “This thing’s going to snap, and we’re all going to die!”
“Drama queen,” you muttered, waving him off. Then you turned to Randal, who was dangling precariously from a branch below you, grinning up at you like a lunatic.
“Nice tree,” Randal said. “Plenty of room for everyone, huh? Kinda cozy.”
“Yeah, cozy,” Sebastian muttered sarcastically.
Randal ignored him, pulling himself up to sit beside you. “So, guess what I found this morning?”
You raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Randal reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny doll. Its painted eyes stared blankly, and its hair was matted like it had seen better days. “Her name’s Matilda. Found her in the dumpster behind school. She told me she was lonely, so I took her home.”
“She told you?” Sebastian asked flatly, looking at Randal like he had grown a second head.
“Yeah,” Randal said casually. “She’s shy, though. Doesn’t talk to just anyone.”
You tilted your head, studying the doll. “I get it. I’ve got one like that. Her name’s Clementine. Found her in an old attic. She doesn’t like sunlight, though. Says it burns her eyes.”
Randal’s grin widened. “See? You get it. Dolls are way more interesting than people.”
Sebastian groaned, rubbing his temples. “You’re both insane.”
“Thanks,” you and Randal said in unison, clearly taking it as a compliment.
“Hey,” Randal said, nudging you. “If Matilda and Clementine ever meet, do you think they’d get along?”
“Maybe,” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “But Clementine’s kinda territorial. She doesn’t like sharing her shelf.”
Randal nodded, completely serious. “I get that. Matilda’s the same way. Maybe we could set up a playdate and see how it goes.”
Sebastian blinked at the two of you, utterly baffled. “You’re actually planning a playdate… for your dolls?”
“Yeah,” you said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“Why not?” Randal added, shrugging.
Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Randal turned to you, his expression mischievous. “So, do you name all your dolls, or just the special ones?”
“All of them,” you said, smirking. “Even the ones that don’t have heads. They’ve got personalities, you know.”
“I knew you’d get it,” Randal said, practically beaming.
Sebastian, meanwhile, looked like he was ready to throw himself out of the tree. “This is my nightmare,” he muttered.
You and Randal ignored him, falling into a deep conversation about doll maintenance. You compared notes on cleaning techniques, how oil made their eyeballs shinier, repair methods, and the best way to keep their clothes from fraying.
“I use a sewing kit,” Randal said, pulling out a needle from his jacket pocket. “Got it from Big Brother's room. Don’t tell him, though. He gets all cranky when I ‘borrow’ his stuff.”
“Noted,” you said with a grin. “I usually just glue things back together, but sewing sounds cool.”
Before Randal could reply, there was a loud crack.
All three of you froze, glancing at the branch beneath you. It groaned ominously, swaying under your combined weight.
“Uh… guys?” Sebastian said, his voice rising an octave. “This branch isn’t—”
SNAP!
The branch gave way, and the three of you plummeted to the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs. You hit the dirt with a loud thud, Randal landing on top of you and Sebastian sprawled awkwardly beside you.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Randal burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “That was awesome! We almost died!!”
Sebastian groaned, rolling onto his back. “I hate you. I hate both of you.”
You laughed, brushing leaves out of your hair. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“No, because it was terrible,” Sebastian grumbled.
Randal sat up, still grinning. “Let’s do it again!”
Sebastian’s eyes widened in horror. “Absolutely not!”
You smirked, nudging Randal with your elbow. “He’s no fun.”
“None at all,” Randal agreed.
Sebastian groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I just wanna go home..”
Randal's eyes gleamed for a second before turning to you.
"Oh yeah if forgot! Big brother said i had to be home by 7pm, what time is it?"
You quickly pulled out your old pocket watch and struggled to read the time.
"Uhh its 11pm"
Randal blinked, then burst into laughter, leaning back against the tree trunk with a manic grin. "Oops. Guess I’m grounded again."
You chuckled, shaking your head as you dusted off your clothes. “What else is new?”
Sebastian groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “You’re both insane.
#ranfren x reader#fanfic#luther von ivory#randals friends#randal ivory#sebastian ranfren#nyen ranfren#nyon ranfren#fanfiction
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Little things I'm catching on a rewatch:

From "who would wanna use their last days not fucking and fighting?"

To
"Last day of the afterlife and you're not off snorting a line off some hunk's abs?"
"Eh. You fucked one cannibal pool boy, you've fucked them all."
"I guess you have changed."
"Hey, Charlie said live tonight however we wanted, so pour me a fresh one! And lets get to living!"
(I am sobbing, you hear me? SOBBING)
(Also if you listen very closely to this scene while they talk at the bar you can hear a slowed down version of Loser, Baby in the background) (Once again: SOBBING)

"I can sense they're planning to kill me. But when?! How?!"
(Bro thats's so meta. They didn't need to do him dirty like that.)

"Don't worry mom, I'll make u proud."
"Only...seven...years. Off doing something important, I'm sure! But this kingdom was really something she cared about"

Welp. She's relaxing is heaven.
(Really love how Lucifer was built up to be this awful person, and Lilith a very loving person, but so far it seems to be the other way around.)
Funny things I missed the first time around:

THE TEXT.
"Bad. It makes us look bad!"
"Funny, I was going for hilarious."
Vaggie doesn't know what she's saying. Alastor was right. The text had me dying fr.


Never noticed Alastor had a little tux get-up for a few seconds I feel so robbed. Also in the commercial, he has his back to the camera and I just LOVE the possibilities as to WHY.
Did Vaggie force him to participate?
Did he still want to be included bc he's a little egotistical attention seeker?
Did he do it it bc he knew Vox would see it and it would fuck with him?
I need to know because like why are you even there little red demon man if you're gonna be barely out of frame and looking away??


Either vox had two mugs made except one with extra text OR (and my personal headcanon) he rushed to write "FUCK ALASTOR" on his mug just before Stayed Gone.
#not hxh related sorry#don't mind me im still hung over on this show#Alastor in the last ep just DOES things to me okay#Angel Dust#Husk#charlie morningstar#Vaggie#sir pentious#Alastor#vox#lilith#hazbin hotel#Jades chats
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ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )



summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.
warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!
roomie!matt x fem!reader
a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.
strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo
@sleepysturnss
rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.
its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.
storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.
“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.
you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.
“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.
he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”
you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.
“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”
this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.
and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.
none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.
and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.
“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.
you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.
“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.
“ew, major turn off.”
“you’re telling me.”
nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.
“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.
“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.
at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.
-
your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.
“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.
you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.
“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.
he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.
“you do look amazing.” he compliments.
“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.
“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.
“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.
“nobody cared when we left early last time.”
you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”
“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.
“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.
“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.
“only for you.”
two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.
you’ve had three shitty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.
matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.
it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.
you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.
you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.
but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the shit out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.
you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.
they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.
“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.
“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.
he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.
“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.
nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.
you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.
he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.
right?
the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.
the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.
“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.
“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.
the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.
chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”
he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.
“yeah?”
“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.
you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.
“uh, no?”
chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”
your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”
“are you guys together?”
there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.
“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.
he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”
your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.
“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.
“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so fucking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”
it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.
“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.
you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.
“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.
he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.
“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”
“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.
“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.
“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.
“i’ll never turn that down.”
the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.
you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.
but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.
your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.
you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.
you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.
you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.
“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.
“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.
there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.
“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.
it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.
this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.
there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.
you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.
“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.
this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.
you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.
“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.
his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.
“what do you mean?”
“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you fucking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.
it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.
no use tip-toeing around it now.
“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.
“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.
a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”
this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.
“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”
matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.
he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.
“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.
his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.
“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.
matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.
“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.
it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.
“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.
“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.
“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.
it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.
“i do.”
“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.
he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.
his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.
it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.
matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.
“so fucking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.
you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.
you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.
“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.
you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.
matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.
you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.
the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.
but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.
the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.
“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.
matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.
his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.
he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.
“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, cock pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.
“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.
he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.
“you’re gonna look at yourself while i fuck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.
you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.
he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.
your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.
“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all fucking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.
skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.
“shit, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.
“fuck.”
he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.
“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.
you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.
“i’m so close, right there babe.”
matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.
you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.
“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”
his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.
“fuck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.
two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so fucked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.
he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.
you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.
you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.
“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.
“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.
you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.
you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.
“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to fuck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.
“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a fucking goofball.
you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.
his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.
“woah. no fucking way”
#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#fanfic#roommate au#smut
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bed chem
a/n: had to make a fic inspired by bed chem for niall, it's just too perfect, like meant to be actually. as sabrina fan and niall fan, i had to i fear
warnings: smut, minors DNI, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex, language, niall and y/n being absolute love stricken for each other
masterlist • requests page
requests are open <3
"I was in a sheer dress the day that we met We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec Your friend hit me up, so we could connect And what are the odds you send me a text?"
You were attending an award show, and just happened to spot him from the red carpet. He was right in front of you getting his pictures taken by the paparazzi. Niall spotted you as well, sending you a quick smile as he walked off the carpet, allowing you to get your pictures taken next. This wasn't the first time you had seen Niall, you two have briefly met before at other award shows. You always wished that you guys could become closer though, you've always thought that he was cute, and you two always got along well the few times you had met. You walked up, the cameras flashing as soon as they spotted you. You showed off the sheer dress that you were adorned in, hitting a few different poses for the cameras before walking off. You saw Niall hanging around off the carpet waiting for you. You shuffled over to him as fast as you could due to how tight the dress was, knowing that you two were in a rush and didn't have long to speak. You quickly greeted one another, talking for a few minutes. You two hit it off like you always did, but something felt a little different this time.
"Well, I got to get to my seat. But hey, maybe I'll see you around afterwards, yeah?" Niall spoke.
You smiled at him. "Yeah, maybe I'll see you around.
You both scurried off to your seats. The both of you talking to your friends about how you wished you could connect with each other for the rest of the night. Little did you two know, your friends were mutual friends. They had a plan to set you two up.
After the show ended, you went straight back to your hotel. You got changed into your pajamas and laid in bed. You were scrolling through instagram, looking at all of your fan's reactions to your outfit from tonight. But you couldn't get your mind off of Niall, you never saw him again, which made your stomach sink a little, knowing that you missed another shot at getting to know him better. But just then, you got a message from one of his friends.
"Hey y/n, just wanted to let you know that I gave Niall your number, he was asking for it, hopes thats alright. Just wanted to give you a heads up." The message read.
"Ok, thanks for the heads up." You quickly replied back.
Just then you got another text.
"Hey y/n, it's Niall, got your number from a mutual friend."
You smiled at the text, knowing that you finally got your chance.
"And now the next thing I know, I'm like Manifest that you're oversized I digress, got me scrollin' like Out of breath, got me going like (ooh) Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like (ooh, ah)"
Over the next few weeks, you and Niall texted and called constantly. You were falling for him hard, in fact you were already fantasying about the things he could do to you. Manifesting that he was oversized and that he'd fill you up so nice. You'd stalk his social medias, practically drooling over some of the pictures of him. He truly took your breath away. You found him so attractive. You were still thinking about seeing him at that awards show. Niall had on a white jacket that fit him perfectly, and that pretty accent of his that you loved so much. You couldn't wait until the next time you could see him again.
"But I bet we'd have really good bed chem How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round Oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things That's bed chem How you're looking at me, yeah, I know what that means And I'm obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good"
Waiting for Niall's tour to end so you could meet up again felt like forever. He still continued to text you and facetime you every night. But you just wanted to see him in person, wanted to hear that accent in person, wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him, and you couldn't wait to see how good y'alls bed chem was. You were laying in bed just dreaming of it, suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by a facetime call from Niall. You quickly grabbed your phone and answered it, immediately being met with a smiley Niall.
"Hey princess." He smiled.
You stomach fluttered at the nickname. Niall had been calling you that for a while now, but it still got you a little flustered. "Hey Ni." You smiled back.
"Surprised you're up so late, you should be in bed." He frowned.
"I'm fine, was waiting for your call." You yawned.
"Wish we were in the same timezone." He spoke.
Niall was finishing up his last few shows in London, and you were in the U.S. still.
"I know," You agreed.
"Well hey, I got some good news. Are you free next week?" Niall asked.
You perked up a little. "Yeah, why?"
"Well, I was thinking you could fly down here to London, watch me finish up the last few shows, then you could just stay with me for couple of weeks." He confessed, his tone a bit nervous.
You smiled. "I would love to."
"Great, I can't wait to see you." Niall smiled, relieved.
"Come right on me, I mean camaraderie Said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be Where art thou? Why not uponeth me? See it my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy (ooh)"
You had been in London for a few days now, watching Niall finish up his last few shows. But tonight was the first night you actually had time to hangout, and Niall was taking you out to dinner. You sat across from him at the table. You two were eating and chatting the night away. It felt so right to be in his presence, the smile never left your face.
"You're so beautiful." Niall blurted out.
"You don't look to bad yourself either, Ni." You smiling, admiring him with your arm propping your face up.
He was in a button down shirt, with just enough buttons undone to show off part of his chest, and it was driving you wild. You couldn't hardly stand it anymore.
"Niall." You said.
"Yes y/n?"
"I want you." You spoke, bringing your gaze up to look him in the eyes.
Niall smirked. "Then what are we waiting for?" He said as he got up out of his seat, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of yours, as he headed out of the restaurant and back to his car. Neither of you even cared about the paparazzi outside taking pictures of you two hand in hand, and rumors that was going to arise from it. He was just worried about getting you back home so he could finally have you, only worried about fulfilling the prophecy. He opened your door for you, before getting in the car himself and starting the journey back to his house. He had his hand resting on your thigh the entire ride home, making you even wetter. As soon as you pulled into the driveway, Niall had you up over his shoulder, scurrying to his room. He laid you down gently on the bed.
"Who's the cute guy with wide blue eyes and the big bad mmh? Like (ooh, ah) I know I sound a bit redundant"
"Fuck, 'been waiting to do this." Niall whisper, undoing his belt.
You grabbed his hand, stopping him. Niall gave you a confused look.
"Let me undress you." You begged.
"Shit, go right ahead, princess."
You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, retaining eye contact with him as you did so. You tossed the shirt on the ground, quickly getting up on your knees to pepper kisses along his shoulders and you undid his pants, letting them drop to ground, Niall stepped out of them. You leaned back a little to look at you work, seeing the huge bulge in his underwear already. You hastily pulled his underwear off, letting his dick spring loose. Fuck it was so pretty, even bigger than you imagined with precum already leaking from the tip. You were practically drooling over it.
"Like what you see?" Niall snickered.
"Fuck yes, Ni."
He chuckled a little. "Okay, my turn now."
Your stomach fluttered as Niall pulled your dress off over your head.
"So pretty." He murmured before unclasping your bra, letting your tits free. He brought his mouth to one, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud, eliciting a moan from you. You let your head fall back, bringing your hand up to run through his hair. Niall finally let off the bud, bringing his hand up to cup your jaw, bringing your lips to his. You let your tongues swipe together as he cupped your face. You had barely even got started yet, and you were already overwhelmed with pleasure. You were the one to finally pull away.
"God, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this." You cried.
"I know." Niall agreed, still out of breath from the makeout.
You pushed him to sit against the headboard.
"Wanna suck your cock, Ni." You said before taking his member into your mouth.
You let his entire length into your mouth, gagging and trying to adjust to his size before letting your mouth bob up and down on it. Niall's head fell back, balling his hand up in your hair, pretty moans pouring from his mouth. He tasted so good you could cry. You kept this up for a few minutes, bobbing up and down, sucking, and licking on dick.
"Fuck y/n, if you don't stop you're going to make me bust."
You came off of his dick with a pop, licking a few stray stripes up his length. You came up to look him in the eyes, waiting for his next move.
"But I bet we'd have really good bed chem How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round Oh, it just makes sense (it just makes sense) How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things That's bed chem (well, that's bed chem) How you're looking at me, yeah, I know what that means And I'm obsessed (I'm obsessed) Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good bed chem"
Niall quickly made work of pulling your panties off and getting on top of you, he let his tip rub along the wetness of your slit. Both of you moaning at the feeling and anticipation.
"You sure about this?" He asked you, his lust blown pupils looking you in the eyes.
"Yes, fuck. Never been more sure of anything Ni. Just want to be filled up." You babbled.
He let hid cock slip into you, bottoming out as he let out a string of curses. Your back arched, it felt so good to be filled up by him.
"Fuck Ni, feels so fucking good." You cried, letting your nails scratch down his back.
"Shit, I know princess. You're so tight, fits my cock just perfectly. Niall moaned.
He found a steady pace, moans and whines spilling from both of your mouths. Everything was so intimate, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, the eye contact you held with each other, it made your head all hazy and dizzy. The only thing on your mind was the blue eyed man on top of you, and how he ran his hand through your hair as he praised you.
"You're so fuckin' beautiful."
"You're taking me so well, baby."
"'Been waiting to do this for way too long."
"You are just perfect."
"And I bet we'd both arrive at the same time (bed chem) And I bet the thermostat's set at six-nine (b-bed c-chem) And I bet it's even better than in my head (ooh)"
You felt your body tensing, ready to snap. "Ni, I'm so close." You whined.
"Me too, hold on, princess." He moaned.
Niall picked up his pace, becoming sloppy in his strokes. But he was still hitting all the right spots. You felt your body tensing even harder than before.
"Fuck, Niall I'm coming." You cried, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
"Fuck babe, me too." Niall yelped, his head falling to your chest as his orgasm overtook him.
You held each other, coaxing one another through your orgasms. You felt Niall's warm liquid coat your walls, making your back arch. Niall carefully rolled the two of you over, holding you in his arms. The two of you laying in a puddle of sweat and each other's fluids, as you came down from your highs. Niall brushed your hair behind your ears, planting a kiss to your forehead.
"You alright, love?" He asked gently.
You brought your head up from his chest to look at him, a dopey smile on your face. "I'm perfect, you felt even better than in my head."
You earned a chuckle out of Niall with that, "Same here."
A silence fell between the two of you as you stared at each other.
"We have really good bed chem." You smiled, breaking the silence.
Niall laughed. "Hell yeah we do."
"I should write a song about this." You laughed, letting your hand rest of Niall's cheek.
He just shook his head with a smile, "I bet you will. Now let me get us cleaned up." He spoke, leaving the room to get a wet towel and some new sheets. You laid on the bed, waiting for him to come back.
#niall horan x reader#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fanfiction#nial horan oneshot#niall horan smut#niall horan#niall horan fluff#one direction x reader#one direction fanfic#onedirection fanfiction#one direction smut
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〽︎ RANDOMLY GIVING THEM A ROSE ON THE STREET.



꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ 𝒏. enhypen mesmerized by a stranger fluff 784wc LIB?
𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 bambi would be just waiting for the others near a crossroad, looking around mindlessly when you come up and hand him a single rose without a word. he looks at you for a few seconds eyes switching from the rose to your face so unsure of what to do until you just shove it in his hand rush away. man would probably try to go after you, like you gave him a rose and now that he thinks about it he feels kinda giddy and he wants to know your name but it's too late he loses you in the crowd. hovers around the same street for days hoping to see you again.
𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 probably sitting in some corner searching up a few things on his phone when you approach him suddenly, waving a lone rose in his face. takes it without a complain cause this guy like the gentleman he is thinks you're asking him to hold it for you? but then you leave and he panics like eh? what was that? he's walks up after you and finds you handing out more roses like that to other people and man he feels a little jealous he wasn't the only one getting it but at the same time he sorta falls for you like how sweet and kind of you to hand out flowers to strangers.
𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 he's with the others lounging at an outdoor cafe when you walk up to the group extending a rose right under his nose, he's gets so red and embarrassed like oh my god someone's proposing to me in public? clears his throat, smiling sheepishly as he accepts it expecting you to say something you're good looking or would you like to go out on a date with me. but humbled real quick when you leave wordlessly though not without a smile. and that smile alone has jake thinking about you for days, wanting to see you again. revisits the cafe again and again for you.
𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 startled like anything but keeps his cool as he turns around to face you after you tap on his shoulder. his brows rise in a question, has this scary expression of what do you want but honestly dude is shit nervous to have a pretty girl approach him even more so when you randomly give him a rose, "a flower for you, have a good day," and he's gone he can't look you in the face he's so flustered. legit runs after you to ask for you name. grabbing your wrist softly to stop you but he's so shy instead of asking he ends up just thanking you in an awkward loser smile ><
𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 like the warm and friendly extrovert he is, he would smile kindly and go oh that's for me? thank you so much! you're so sweet! this man would be so thrilled to get a rose from you and he wouldn't hesitate to let you know just how much you made his day. will outright take the chance to flirt and get to know you under a minute. so sad when you leave but he's sure he'll find you again lol. and boy does he find you again two days later at some shop, hesitates a bit first but then gathers courage and approaches you,"would you like some flowers, pretty lady?" okayyyy
𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 this poor guy is so clumsy he bumps into you accidentally when you approach him with the rose making you drop the entire bunch you had in your other hand. immediately bends down to help you gather them, literally does not let you touch one at all and after he's got them all, hands it over like a bouquet. you giggle at how the tables turn and jungwon is so nervous his heart is racing on hot wheels. i helped a pretty girl, i handed flowers to a pretty girl, the pretty girl gave me back a rose. he fr gets so down bad in a split moment of interaction lmao.
𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 boy is in the middle of filming a self vlog of his vacay when you enter the screen from behind with flowers in your hands. moves to the side thinking you were asking him to excuse you. but then you hold up a rose to him and he's like okay? taking it in slow motion giving side eye to the camera like what's going on right now? doesn't really mind all that much though cause you're pretty and you have such cute vibes. regrets later for not asking for your name, hence edits in the scene into his vlog and asks his followers to help him find his dream girl.
taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie
#enhypen imagines#k-labels#ENHA WOULD THINK ABOUT THIS FOR WEEKS LMAO#JUNGWON'S TURNED OUT SO CUTE!!#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunoo imagines#enhypen jungwon imagines#enhypen niki imagines#enhypen x reader
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