#once again... minimal proofreading sorry

[mintys-musings]

His New Hobby (Kuro Kiryu x GN!Reader)

i knew exactly what i wanted to write.

Summary: Kuro seems to have earned a new hobby after spending some time with the outdoors circle and he wants to show you!

Tags: bondage, toys (just some vibrators), praise, overstimulation, mirror sex, mild dacryphilia, soft dom!Kuro because in my heart that's what i believe in, he calls you pretty lots, he also calls you baby and darling, creampie bc predictable

Word Count: 1305

NSFW under cut~!

"You're doing so well."

His voice was as loving and tender as it always was around you. His eyes trailed down your form before him, drinking in the sight of you tied up all pretty. Just for him.

Kuro had already made you come once just with his mouth before he had even finished all the knots. He couldn't help but get a taste of you once he saw how needy you were. It was fine for you to have an early release. He wasn't cruel. He wanted you to feel nice in return for indulging him in this.

Red and black ropes ran around your body in intricate knots and designs. A heart design right on your sternum, ropes weaving like snakes around your legs to tie them as they were folded. You couldn't see the way your hands were tied behind your back, but Kuro had explained to you that it was supposed to mimic a spider's web.

Kuro's lips trailed down your body, kissing each gap of skin between the lines of ropes.

"You're so good to me, baby." He brushed your hair away from your face and gave you a tender kiss. "Thank you for staying still for me. I'm so proud. I know I took my time with this."

You could only respond with a soft whine, his sweet words making you feel warm.

Kuro's eyes bore into yours with a passionate gaze. He had a look of pure admiration as he scooped you up into his arms. There was no place safer right now and no place you'd rather be.

"I want you to watch while I fuck your pretty body numb. Understand?" His hands wandered to caress and thumb over your skin like it was fine art. Your mind had all but ground to a halt at this point, in a near trance like state.

"Mhm..."

"Good good. I'm going to use some toys too, baby. You remember that, right?" He kissed your head as he brought you to the edge of the bed in front of a tall mirror.

You nodded.

"Verbal response, baby. I need to hear you." He moved your chin so you could look at him through the mirror. "You feeling okay about this still?"

It took a second for your brain to catch up, but you nodded again. Your eyes drifted from Kuro's awaiting gaze to the toys and tape on the bed.

"Yes. I'm okay. I remember." You recalled him talking to you earlier about all this. "Please fuck me, Kuro~"

Kuro let out a deep chuckle that you could feel against your back. "Good job, baby. Thank you for listening to me." His words were sincere as he reached for the toys he said he'd use earlier in this scene.

He taped three bullet vibrators to you. One on each nipple and one directly onto your sex. Your eyes never left the mirror, following his large hands as they put you into the exact position he wanted.

"You see how pretty you are?" He grinned, forcing your head up to look at yourself instead. "You look so good, darling."

More than yourself, you were staring right at Kuro's large, painfully hard looking cock. His thick tip was pressed right against your hole, leaking precum against you. You practically salivated at just the thought of it going into you.

"Watch." He commanded.

And you listened.

Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as he sank you right down onto his cock. A deep groan could be heard from him.

"Fuck... You're so tight, baby. Look at that. Look at how well you take me."

He moved slowly at first. If anything, he was moving your body up and down his shaft like you were nothing more than a fleshlight. You couldn't help but watch as you were split open with each thrust, the sound of wet, sticky skin gently slapping against each other emanating from the two of you.

"You feel so nice around my dick. You're so good for me, yeah?" He was breathing heavily as he started to move faster. His balls slapped against your skin more and more. "God. I'm so fucking lucky to have you. You're so fucking pretty all tied up like this."

You couldn't find the mind power for any sort of response besides moans and gasps as Kuro thoroughly fucked you. You felt floaty, brainless, like the only thing that mattered was right now and how damn good everything felt.

And then he turned on the vibrators. High.

Maybe it was a lie to say he wasn't cruel. Or maybe it wasn't. Who knew?

When each and every sensitive point on your body was getting attention like this, blinding pleasure flooded your senses. You tried jerking away from the stimulation, but the ropes and Kuro's tight hold on you made it impossible to escape. The floaty nature of your brain quickly gave way to feeling every single cell in your body jolt with pleasure to the point it was nearly painful.

"Kuro!" You wailed. "Mmmngh~! 's too mu~uch~!"

Your wails were only met with a chuckle as Kuro thrusted into you with more fervour.

"You love it, right baby?" He teased, slamming himself inside your tight hole with no mercy. "I said I wanted you to watch. Look at you, darling."

Through watery eyes, you saw yourself in the mirror. Flushed face, drooling, trembling, hole getting stuffed with Kuro's girth over and over again. He made sure to fuck you hard so you felt every inch of him going in and out of you. He made you take him from tip to hilt with each thrust.

Each wet smack of skin only drove you further to the edge. It was hard to focus on anything else except the white hot pleasure you were being bombarded with. The vibrators kept changing their pulse patterns so you never had a moments rest.

Kuro wasn't fairing any better. He held you just as tight as your walls were holding onto him. He wasn't entirely silent, but the fact he only let out low groans and growls right into your ear brought a whole other level of intimacy to the scene.

One of his hands moved to your sex to play with it as he thrusted.

"You wanna come already, don't you?"

You nodded, eyes screwing shut.

"Verbal response, baby."

"Yes! Yes. I want to come so fucking badly!" You cried, completely at the mercy of Kuro's thrusts and each rapid pulse of the vibrators.

Kuro moaned. "Then come. You've been so good to me tonight. I want you to come all over my cock while I fuck my cum into you." He gritted his teeth and slammed into you repeatedly as hashly as he could. "Come for me. You can do that, right?"

"Yes yes yes—" You lost yourself as you finally peak. "Kuro~"

It was all too much all at once. Kuro's balls pulled taught as he slammed into you one final time to coat your insides white. In the same breath, your body convulses as best it could under your restraints as you come with a satisfying moan.

You hear a faint click and all the vibrators stop. Kuro grumbled curses under his breath as he held you tight, massaging your chest gently with his calloused hands.

You barely registered it as he kissed you. But once you did, you kissed back tenderly.

"Good job, darling. Thank you for indulging me again." He sighed in content, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Give me a minute. I still want to take pictures of you like this."

You giggled and watched through the reflection as some cum leaked out from you as Kuro shifted you on his dick.

"I love you, darling."

"I love you, too."

[luvfy0dor]

“His Hands are in my Hair, His Clothes are in my Room ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Nikolais and Chuuyas are hardly proofread, Nikolais was rushed, Nikolais nearly got scrapped, I don't like Nikolais, maybe a little ooc

Description; sharing clothing w the BSD boys

A/n; GUYS OH MY GOD I GOT A 5 ON MY FIRST AP EXAM IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY also I'm sorry posts are so few and far between. It's so hot and hard to function. I know I said the exact same thing to excuse minimal posts in winter but like. its literally hot as balls and all I got is a puny ass 8yro fan and the occasional sip of iced water.

Osamu Dazai ★

• Dazai likes to take your old T-shirts to sleep in when you lend them to him for the night. After a few nights of having Dazai at your house, you wonder why your sleep-shirt collection has nearly cut in half.

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You unlocked the door of your apartment and pushed it open with your unoccupied hand. The other arm held a large brown paper bag filled with gas station food and snacks for you and your boyfriend, who followed you inside. Once you set the bag down on the coffee table, you retrieved your keys from the door and closed it. When you came back to the kitchen, Dazai had already dumped everything out and was sifting through all the options. "The walk back from the gas station was hardly five minutes and I've already forgotten everything we got." He says with a grin, opening a bag of chips and eating a couple. He offered you some, holding the bag out to you. "Want some?' He mumbled.

"Yeah, let me just change into pajamas first, I don't wanna do anything until I'm comfortable." You said, shrugging off your jacket and starting to undo your belt before you even make it back to your room. Dazai followed suit, bag of chips still in hand. "Can I borrow some?" You nodded before taking off your shirt and tossing it in the laundry hamper, going through your closet to find a shirt for your boyfriend and yourself. "Thank youuu~" He plops down onto your bed, keeping the chip bag upwards so he doesn't get any crumbs or dust on your nice blankets. He watches you pull one of your band shirts over your head, admiring your body from his position on your mattress. He's snapped out of his daze when black fabric comes flying at him, but he catches it before it can smack him in the face. "Thanks, babe, you're so kind."

He switches his work clothes for your old ones, the big shirt nearly swallowing his scrawny torso comfortably. "Alright, I want snacks, come on." You gesture for him to follow you back out to the kitchen where the array of snacks was waiting for the two of you on the counter. There were numerous kinds of chocolate, and Dazai had grabbed a couple bags of gummies for himself. There were a few more bags of chips for variety, and you scooped everything up in your arms to bring to the living room. You dropped them all on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Alright, what movie are we feeling?" You ask, turning to the brunette man. "Uhhhhh, how about an action movie. Somethin' that looks exciting." He says, slinging his arm over your shoulder while he munches on sour gummy worms. Eventually, the two of you decide on a Godzilla movie, slumped against the couch with chocolate residue on the tips of your fingers from your candies. Dazai let out a long sigh as the movie came to a close, leaning into you and resting his head on your shoulder.

You ran your fingers through Dazais messy and slightly greasy hair, scratching his scalp and listening to his pleased, quiet hum. "Are you falling asleep or are you up for another movie?" You ask him, watching the credits roll on the TV. "I'm up for another movie, I just think I might be having a sugar crash." He says, groaning as he sits back up. You nod and grab the remote again, browsing through all the film options. Every now and again, your eyes involuntarily flickered over to your boyfriend, and you couldnt help but smile. He looked really cute in your shirt, and it almost made you wanna treat the movie like chopped liver and cuddle up to him.

"You look really cute." You say, playing whatever movie you absent-mindedly started in your daze. "Oh, I know, right?" He grins running his hand over his body. "As a matter of fact, I've never felt sexier." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down with a smirk. You can't help but laugh at him. "Let's get you on a playboy cover." Before you know it, he's standing up in front of the TV. "Scrap the movie, you have me for entertainment instead." He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a pose, making you laugh some more. "You want some attention? I mean, I guess since you asked so politely." You stand up with an eye roll and pull him in, kissing him and running a hand down his side. He keeps one hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, sighing quietly each time your lips part for a quick moment. Soon, you both need more air then small gasps and have to pull away. He smiles and messes with the fabric of your own shirt. "How about we ditch this mess for now and go to bed, yeah? We can continue comfortably there?" He offers, You glance back over at the piles of snacks, opened or not, scattered acrossed the floor. Normally you'd make him help you clean up before doing anything else, but tonight you really couldn't be bothered and just wanted to follow Dazai wherever he'd take you. "Alright, let's go."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Everyone knows that Chuuya adores his hat, but not everyone knows he's got a decently sized collection of fancy hats on top of his closet. One day while rummaging around and trying to find one of Chuuyas button downs for him, you notice them all on the top rack.

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"Chuuya, you didn't tell me you had so many hats!" You called out to him, standing back and staring at them all. Chuuya was currently in the bathroom, shaving his peach fuzz to keep his smooth face. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I've got a ton." He calls back, washing the shaving cream off of his skin. "They're pretty..can I try some of 'em on?" You ask, reaching to grab the one on the top of the stack. "Go ahead." He walks out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, leaning against the doorframe to watch the little fashion show you were about to put on. The first one you grabbed was adorned with flowers of various colors. You placed it on your head and turned around, posing with your hands on your hips.

"What do you think? Vogue worthy?" You ask him. He smiles at you and nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "One hundred percent, that's peak fashion." He says genuinely, standing up straight and walking over to the closet. He reaches up and grabs another hat for you to try, switching it out for the flowers one. This one is a dark, reddish brown color. "This one's cute too." You giggle and head over to the bathroom to see for yourself. "Ooo, I'm not sure this kinda hat is necessarily for me." You giggle. "What do you mean? It looks great on you!" He says, following you in and hugging you from behind. "You only say that because they're your hats." You say, grinning.

"I mean, I guess not everyone is destined to look good in them like me." He says, squeezing your hip. "I gotta actually get ready for work now, I'm probably runnin' late." He says, turning around and dropping his towel. He tossed it into the hamper before getting dressed in his usual attire, spotting the button down that you had forgotten about in favor of his hat collection. "Okayyyy." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head and treading through the bedroom to start your own morning routine. You didn't have to leave for another hour, but Chuuya had to get to work within the next 30 minutes. After brushing your teeth, you notice Chuuya searching the bedroom for his usual hat.

"The nightstand." You point out to him. He sees it and lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing it and plopping it on his head. "Thanks, doll. I gotta get going' now, but I'll see ya tonight, okay?" He says, pulling you in by your waist for his daily goodbye kiss. "Yeah, got it." You smile before kissing him sweetly for a quick moment before he backs away. "Alright, I love you, see ya later." He playfully smacks your ass before letting go of you and heading out to the door. "Bye Chuuya, I love you, I'll see you later!" Once you heard him leave, you smiled to yourself and headed right back to the closet. You didn't necessarily have to get dressed just yet, so that gave you some time to try on a couple more hats on your own.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor doesn't mind letting you borrow his cape if you seem cold, or he'll simply wrap it around you and pull you into his side. He prefers the latter, considering it doesn't take much for him to get chilly.

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Fyodor held your gloved hand in his as you both walked down the snowy streets of Yokohama. It was the winter solstice and you both decided to take a walk down one of the most popular roads and do some window shopping. By the end of the evening, the hand that wasn't occupied with holding Fyodors held a warm cup of hot chocolate that you sipped on periodically. "Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Myshka?" He asks you, adjusting his ushanka and gazing up at the sky, noticing some snow start to fall. "I did. Thanks for coming with me, I know you have a lot of stuff to do." You respond, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip. He waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean I can't accompany you." His thumb rubs over your knuckles as snow starts landing on his hat and your head, the street lamps illuminating the darkness with a tangerine-colored glow. You nod at his words, leaning into his shoulder and shivering.

"It's so cold, Fedya." You say, your head on his shoulder and your hand squeezing his tightly. He lets go in order to put his arm around your waist, pulling his long cape over your shoulder. "I know, the walk home isn't much further, don't worry." You smile and hold onto the old, worn material to keep it in place. "You're right, thanks." You say, feeling butterflies in your stomach. It never mattered how long you and Fyodor had been together, every affectionate action made you feel like you had just got together. He held you close with his cape still shielding you from the cold and adding a layer of warmth to your jacket. He would peer over at you every now and again, laughing under his breath at all the snow that was getting into your hair. "What's so funny?" You ask him, a smile spread acrossed your face. "You've got a whole bunch of snow on your head." He tells you. "It looks like dandruff."

You roll your eyes and yank the ushanka off of his head, placing it on yours instead. "There, now you won't have to look at it." You hold the fluffy hat on top of your head and try to prevent him from taking it back when he tugs on it. "No, you can get your own, my ears are cold." He says with a smile, eventually pulling it back into his own possession and patting it off. "I will say though, you look better in my hat than Dazai did." You give a proud smirk and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'd hope you'd think so." Your street comes into view and you pull him along as you speed up, wanting to get into the warm, cozy house as soon as possible. "I know running isn't exactly your thing but pick up the pace a little, I wanna get under the covers and cuddle." You tell him, getting closer to home with each passing second.

He picks up speed for you and listens to the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. It's not long before you've pulled him all the way home and you're unlocking the door, nearly spilling inside to get into the warm living room. Fyodor follows suit, unlacing his shoes and hanging up his cape and ushanka. You wait for him in the open doorway that connects the living room and the hallway, ready to curl up in bed away from the harsh cold. "Alright, I'm coming." He says, treading through the hall with you and opening the bedroom door. His hand rested on your lower back as you both walked to the comfortable mattress, crawling under the covers and pulling each other close. "Your cape is really warm and comfortable. You should wrap me in it more often." You say, scooching closer to him and letting his arm drape over your waist.

"Hmm, I guess that wouldn't hurt. You really like it?" He peers down at you, his head propped up on his fist. "Yeah, I might have to steal it, actually." You say seriously, making him click his tongue. "You're welcome to steal it if I'm not wearing it." He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek habitually. "Then expect it to be off the hanger more often then not." He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, laying his head down on the pillow. "Okay, that's fine, but right now you have me and the blanket to keep you warm." He murmurs, closing his eyes. "Well you're not contributing to that as much as the blanket, but whatever you say." You kiss his cheek and brush his bangs out of his face. "G'night Fedya, I love you." You say, resting your head on his chest, ready for sleep. "I love you too, y/n, sleep well."

Nikolai Gogol ★

• You always loved Nikolais outfit and couldn't help but wanna put it in one day. You were sure he wouldn't mind, after all, sharing attire was nothing foreign to your relationship.

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It started with you trying on his blouse for fun, but then you decided the blouse wasn't complete without the vest, pants, gloves, collar, shoes, or hat. Everything fit you a little differently than it fit Nikolai, but it didn't matter, because when you walked over to the nearest reflective surface, you found yourself cute, and you almost couldn't wait for Nikolai to get out of the shower to show him. You just needed one more thing, his cape. You ran out to the coat rack by the door and swung it behind you and then over your shoulders excitedly, grabbing it by the edges and moving it around. You felt really fancy with his cape, swaying your body just to feel the fabric move with you. As a matter of fact, you were so caught up in how good the cape made you feel that you didn't even realize the bathroom door open.

"Oh, wow, dove! My outfit looks so good on you! I've never noticed how much the red gloves pop until now." You turned around so fast, as if you were sitting in silence and all of a sudden a full file cabinet tipped over and crashed onto a linoleum floor. "Wah-! When'd you get out? I mean, thank you, but you scared me!" You say with a nervous laugh. "I thought it looked cute." You murmur, starting to pull off the gloves, but he stops you. "Hey, wait, you should stay in it for a moment, I'm not done admiring you yet!" He tells you, walking over and grabbing your hands gently. He leans in to kiss you, his smile palpable on his lips. You hand falls on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down affectionately before pulling away. "You really like it that much, huh?"

He nods. "Ofcourse! Oh, I'd love to show everyone how wonderful you look. Would you let me?" He asks, squeezing your hands tightly. "Sure, Kolya, go ahead." He quickly skitters off to fetch his cellphone, returning with the camera app already open. "Pose." He says, watching you place your hands on your waist and cock your hip a little bit. "Ah, gorgeous." He says, spamming the capture button. "Okay, I think that's enough." He says, his cheeks a bit pinker than before. He tossed his phone onto one of the side tables and embraced you once again, resting his head on top of yours. "Come on, y/n, I'd like to see you in my whole wardrobe now!" He says excitedly, pulling you along back to the bedroom. You don't necessarily know what you ignited in him, but it was certainly something, and now you were preparing yourself for a god-knows-how-long fashion show for your boyfriend. Not that you really minded, ofcourse.

A/n; another post that was supposed to have sigma and then didn't have sigma because I wanted to watch Jersey shore instead of write. ALSO I WENT TO THE DENTIST YESTERDAY terrible experience I cried but don't tell anyone I said that

[filiazpink]

🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)

summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.

a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll  =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞

word count: 1139

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

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orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.

your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.

she was simply breathtaking. 

���

“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.

“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.

“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”

“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.

it was elita’s superior. 

it was you. 

oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,

oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.

STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.

orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.

“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.

“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.

“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling. 

“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus miss (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.

“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”

“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme bot. 

orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot.

or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating them.

d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did she assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell her that-

“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.

“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.

‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.

“,,, i need you.”

,,,

WHAT???

the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all people in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.

“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt. 

orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

he wished it could have been him.

but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.” 

the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.

“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.

“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.

,,,

“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow. 

orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

“d?,,,” oh he knew. 

he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.

oh primus.

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🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[hanrinz]

THE EGOIST NEXT DOOR.

pairing. isagi yoichi x gn! reader ( word count. 1.0k ) genre. boy next door

synopsis. wherein the guy next door often borrows things from you and then he asks for something different.

content. fluff, just isagi your handsome neighbor, loser isagi lol, use of the word 'pretty', word vomit. minimal proofread.

notes: after a month of no post i finally posted smth :') omg i miss writing sm </3 omg first real fic?? lol :x isagi is a loser no one can change my mind.

a knock sounds through the hallway, six in the morning, you were woken up from your slumber.

who could possibly be up at this hour, on a weekend too? other than your grandmother who you think is the only person who can possibly do so, no one else comes to mind.

swinging your feet off the mattress and dragging yourself to the front door. the knocks haven't ceased down and it only adds to your annoyance.

"coming!" a frustrated huff leaves your mouth as you unlock the door.

only to be met with deep blue eyes and a sheepish smile that accompanies his face.

oh.

"isagi?" brows knitted in confusion, your newly moved neighbor isagi yoichi, who's around your age and often passes by your door by night coming home from practice.

if you recall correctly, a month has already gone by since he had occupied the door next to yours. and a month since he has been knocking at your door whenever he needs something.

or moreso in borrowing something from your home.

most of it being ingredients that should never be gone inside a kitchen. the last thing he had borrowed from you, was your sugar that he still hasn't returned.

the last time you checked your apartment wasn't a convenient store, just for him to knock at and get things as he pleases. you might as well charge him for everything he's been borrowing in your home.

"hi, pretty," a hand comes up as a greeting. curse him and his face, isagi yoichi was too pretty to be smiling at you on this god-forbidden morning.

"sorry to bother you this early, but i need to borrow something, again." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"isagi, this is the seventh time already." you reminded him.

isagi is nice, yes, unfortunately. it can't really be helped for you to be mad at him long, not when he always makes sure to drop by some cookies that you love, with little notes that are sticked on it.

a way of his compensation to the troubles he had caused.

isagi is nice, but this growing routine needs to be put to a stop—for your sanity and to your pocket that is on the verge of crying.

you're sure, soon enough the both of you would really need to run to the grocery for a restock—also the very thing that isagi had been forgetting to do, you wonder how he's even surviving.

his embarrassment only grew, his cheeks deepened to the shades of red and he clears his throat with a response. "i know, sorry."

you lean onto your door frame, sighing as you let him borrow something from you one last time, "fine, but this will be the last time."

his eyes were now brimming as he smiled so brightly, it might as well rival the sun itself.

"really?" disbelief and excitement evident in his voice. "but promise me first, y/n. you won't be mad, okay?"

you look at him with suspicion, one brow raised, eyes squint in question. "isagi.. what is it?"

"you won't be mad though, right?" he asks once more.

"just get on with it, yoichi."

for someone who is shamelessly borrowing a lot of things from their neighbor, isagi is losing all the confidence to ask you one thing right this very moment.

the pep talk he had with bachira the night before didn't even help with the ever growing anxiety that he feels on his chest. it's funny though, if he wasn't in this position he would've laughed at the situation at hand.

isagi is stupid and an idiot—what rin would've said to him, but lukewarm might just be the perfect word, for what he is about to do.

he reckons he could even possibly recover from this moment ever again, but to hell with it. what is he if not an egoistical striker who can't even get the number of his pretty neighbor next door?

possibly a loser, but let's be honest. he kind of is.

but we can excuse that because of his boyish charms, can we?

the silence that hovers over the atmosphere was rather foreign, uncharacteristically from all the comfortable stillness you had with him.

the anxiety that swirls within was contagious, isagi and this newfound silence was not helping with it.

and in the middle of all the uncomfortable reverie and this consuming tension, with hundreds of practice and perfection in his head, he still managed to fuck things up.

"can i borrow your phone?"

fuck.

isagi yoichi is a loser. even after all the countless talks and encouragement insults he had received, isagi yoichi had made a mistake once again.

you looked at him with confusion painted all over your face and to be honest, yoichi might have died a little on the inside.

but what's a man gotta do? he's more determined than to let his already blown away ego and his thoughts, back down from this.

"my phone?"

"..yes.. please?"

you look at him incredulously, doubt was much apparent, but you acquiesce to his plea. grabbing your phone from the bedside of your room, leaving isagi to contemplate every decision he had made.

coming back to him not long, with the device in your hand, handing it to him without any clue to what he needs it for.

an idea comes to mind onto what he is using it for, it may have been he was locked out of his apartment, or maybe he lost his keys, or maybe his phone was dead and his charger was nowhere to be seen.

a lot of possibilities, but it remained to be a mystery.

isagi returned your phone to you without a word, you look at him with much more confusion and he only gives you a sharp grin before running off.

what a way to save himself from this scenario.

leaving you puzzled, as you look at your phone with your contacts left open and noticing a new one added to it, with a name you're very much familiar with.

yoichi ;)

maybe, yoichi isn't here to borrow from you anymore.

© fallenssun 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[falafelluva]

; 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐤. 𝐲𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐳 ✮

summary: Kenan and you are in a situationship but his constant excuses and lack of communication leave you feeling ignored and unimportant.

warnings: male behavior😰😰?!?!?

side note: my eyes are burning so bad, it’s like almost 6 am- this is saur short and not proofread+ my first fic thing in over 14 months, scuse mi🤗. (Sorry for the repost chat😔)

The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city. You were sprawled on your bed, phone in hand, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

A mix of frustration and confusion churned inside you, the same feelings you’d been carrying for weeks now when it came to Kenan.

Things between you had been good, at least in the beginning. He was charming, thoughtful in the small moments, but recently, the distance felt wider, his attention divided by the game he loved.

Football.

He always said he was busy, always had something to do, always left you on 'delivered' for hours—sometimes even days.

You understood his dream; he was one of the brightest stars of his generation, after all. But understanding didn’t make it any easier.

You opened his Instagram account, staring at his latest post. Another photo in his jersey, looking focused as always. He hadn’t messaged you back since yesterday.

It was the same old cycle—waiting for a reply that might not come, slowly losing patience. Slowly losing interest.

But not quite.

The spark wasn’t completely gone yet, which was why you found yourself taking a calculated risk. You scrolled to your own story and hit “add to story.”

A selfie, carefully posed, just enough to catch his attention. Maybe this time, he’d react. Maybe this time, things would be different.

Minutes passed, then your phone buzzed.

kenanyildiz_official✔️ replied to your story: 😍

You stared at the notification, unsure of what to feel. A small smile tugged at your lips, but it was tinged with a bittersweet edge. His response was always the same—minimal effort.

He’d send an emoji, maybe a comment if you were lucky, but rarely more. It was like he was giving you just enough to keep you hanging on.

You opened the message, typing a quick, casual response, but a part of you already knew how this would go. He'd drop a couple more words and then disappear again—and the cycle would continue.

A while later, you heard the familiar buzz of the notification with his name popping up again.

“u look good as always”

There it was, a simple compliment. You should’ve felt something, a flutter, excitement, but instead, it felt hollow.

“Thanks, u know u could reply more often, right?🤗”

You didn’t expect an immediate answer, but when another long pause stretched into minutes, the same old frustration bubbled up again. Kenan was always like this—his mind somewhere else, his priorities elsewhere. Football was his life, and you were starting to feel like an afterthought.

Finally, your phone lit up.

“I’m sorry”

“I’ve been busy with football”

“I’ve been training yk? I don’t mean to ignore u”

You sighed. You’d heard it before. He always had an excuse. And maybe it wasn’t even an excuse. Maybe it was true. But it still hurt.

Kenan always seemed to catch you at the wrong time, making promises that this time would be different. That he'd make more of an effort. But the promises never really stuck.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could deal with the constant push and pull, the waiting, the wondering if he really cared as much as he claimed.

He claimed to care, but actions spoke louder than words, and lately, his actions told a different story. You were slowly pulling away, and you knew it. That once bright spark of excitement whenever he messaged was fading, flatlining.

Your phone buzzed again, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I promise I’ll make it up to u oké?”

“Next time we’re both free, let’s hang out güzel.”

You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. Your eyes lingering on the last word— Güzel.

The nickname lures you back into your thoughts, you wanted to hold onto the good moments, the times when he actually showed up for you. But deep down, you were starting to realize that maybe— it wasn’t enough anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard, typing out a quick reply.

“We’ll see”

Your message was short, noncommittal, a reflection of the distance that had grown between you two. You hit send, then locked your phone, letting it fall onto your bed.

You wanted Kenan, but not like this. Not with the uncertainty, not with the constant feeling of being second to everything else in his life. You weren’t sure if you were ready to walk away, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling inside you anymore—There was a brief pause before your phone buzzed again.

“Please? I got this weekend off.”

“Let’s meet up and talk about this.”

You felt a flicker of hope but you tempered it with caution. It was easy to get swept up in the excitement, but you had learned that promises didn’t always lead to action.

“Sure, when and where?”

You hit send, and for the first time in weeks, a small smile crept onto your face. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this weekend would finally give you both a chance to reconnect, to clear the air that had grown thick with unspoken words.

;;

The day of your planned hangout, you spent hours getting ready, carefully picking out your outfit. You were determined to look your best, to show him that you were still worth his time.

As the clock ticked closer to your meeting time, you glanced at your phone, your heart racing—no message from him yet.

You arrived at the café first, nerves fluttering in your stomach. It was a popular spot, filled with chatter and laughter, but you felt out of place as you sat alone at a table, fiddling with your phone before noticing the time.

16:12

Kenan was 12 minutes late, which wasn’t new, he always seemed to be late when it came to you.

A few minutes later, you saw him striding through the door, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he walked over, a grin spreading across his face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, taking a seat across from you. “Got caught up with some last-minute training.”

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the familiar wave of disappointment. “No worries. I was just enjoying the view.”

He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “You look really good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice softening slightly. Maybe you could give him a chance?

As you chatted over coffee, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Kenan told stories about his training, his ambitions, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—the carefree times when everything was simple and uncomplicated.

But as the conversation flowed, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still off.

He was present but not entirely there. It felt like a performance, and you were left wondering whether he was truly engaged or just playing the part.

Halfway through your coffee, he pulled out his phone to check something. You watched him, your stomach tightening.

“Sorry, just checking a message from the team,” he said, glancing up with a sheepish grin.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart sank a little more. This was the pattern—he was here, but not really with you.

“Do you remember that time we went to the beach?” Kenan asked, completely switching the subject, a nostalgic smile on his face.

“Yeah- that was fun,” you replied, recalling the day filled with laughter and sunshine.

“I miss those days. I feel like I’m always on the go now,” he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, me too. It feels like I’m always waiting around for you to have time,” you replied, a bit more honesty slipping into your words than you intended.

Kenan’s expression faltered for a moment, and he looked away, his gaze drifting past you—feeling guilty.

“I know, and I’m really sorry. I’m just trying to focus on my career right now.”

His words stung. You wanted to support his dreams, but you also wanted to be a part of his life, not just an afterthought.

“I get that, but… I don’t want to be a backup plan either.”

Kenan met your gaze, his eyes serious.

“You’re not. I promise. I’m just trying to figure things out.”

As you looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, you realized that you were at a crossroads. You could continue down this path of uncertainty or confront the reality of your feelings.

“Maybe we need to figure things out too,” you said softly, a hint of vulnerability in your voice.

Kenan’s expression shifted, and for a moment, the playful banter faded. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to keep waiting around, hoping you’ll change,” you admitted, your heart racing. “I want to be with someone who makes time for me, who chooses to be with me, not just when it’s convenient.”

He opened his mouth to respond but paused, as if weighing his words carefully. “I don’t want to lose you. I care about you, I really do. It’s just... things are complicated right now.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean impossible,” you replied, your voice steady. “I need to know where we stand. If you want this, we need to make an effort.”

Silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words. Finally, Kenan nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

“I know I told you last time was the last time, but I promise to be better and do better for you.”

The honesty in his voice hit you hard, and for a moment, you were both silent, letting the weight of your feelings hang in the air.

“Can we try?” he finally asked, looking at you earnestly.

“I promise to make more of an effort. Just give me a chance.” Kenan reached for your delicate hand, and for the first time in weeks, you felt that familiar spark reignite, even if just a little. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was a start.

“Okay,” you said softly, heart pounding.

“Let’s try.”

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝ : and i promise, this time i won’t be late.

PAIRING! idol!wonbin x fem!reader GENRE! fluff, angst (quite a bit this time i think) WARNING! just wonbin tryna be a good bf alsooo not proofread WC 2.5k

NOTE! smth shorter to make up for the fact that i haven't written anything in ages, sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth it will happen again

wonbin finds himself praying that you're still awake right now. he looks down at his phone for the thousandth time, wincing every time the minute changes.

it is currently 1:06 in the morning. running an anxious hand through his hair, he continues to glare at the time being displayed as though it would go back a few hours if he stared hard enough. he thinks about sending you a message to verify whether or not you're still up, but decides against it with a shake of his head. he already feels terrible, and he thinks that if you happen to be asleep right now and wake up to his sorry, pathetic message the next day, it'd only make him feel worse.

lost in thought, wonbin doesn’t even feel the arm that wraps around his stiff shoulders until the person touching him decides to speak. “you’re coming with us, right?” sungchan asks, causing wonbin to look up for the first time in what feels like hours.

all the boy can utter is a “what?”, meeting the eyes of his taller group mate. “the corner store down the road is still open,” sungchan explains, “we’ve been talking about stopping there since practice ended. were you not listening?”

wonbin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair once more. he hadn’t been listening, of course, because the moment practice ended the only thing on his mind was getting back home to you. it wasn’t a rare occurrence, but practice only seemed to drag longer than normal today, and while wonbin knows that you’ve always been understanding of the fact that he comes home late, he can’t help but feel apologetic. he tells himself that he owes it to you to come home on time just once, and he’s blown it again.

1:10 in the morning. “sorry,” wonbin breathes, “i can’t go.” he doesn’t say anything more than that, and he doesn’t have to. sungchan drops his arm from the younger boy’s shoulders, instead opting to pat him on the back reassuringly. in the same sense that this isn’t wonbin’s first time coming home late, it also isn’t the first time he’s had to bail on his friends in exchange for arriving at your shared apartment just a bit earlier, even if it doesn’t make much of a difference. despite everything, wonbin is still late, and there’s no changing that.

sungchan nods, “next time, then.” wonbin offers him a nod in return, and the older boy only gives him a smile and a wave before turning around to catch up with everyone else. wonbin is frozen for a moment, watching the silhouettes of his group mates get smaller and smaller before he finally begins the journey back to you.

1:45 in the morning. wonbin holds his breath as he opens the door to your apartment, making very minimal noise. he still prays that you’re awake, but can’t blame you if you aren’t.

he wants to call out to you, the same way he wanted to send you a text earlier, and the same way he wanted to arrive at a reasonable time for once. he keeps his teeth clenched.

it’s 1:50 by the time wonbin stops in front of your shared bedroom. you’re sleeping— he’s sure of it. despite this, he still can’t find it in him to regret making an attempt to come home sooner. he knows that you’d appreciate it if you knew.

he pushes open the door and there you are, a tense look adorning your face as you sleep. he takes note of how you likely weren’t even sure if he would be home on time or not, yet you still stayed to your side of the bed. whether it be due to routine or simply because you were hoping that he’d show up, his heart drops nonetheless.

he quietly walks over to you, pausing when he reaches your side. he had wished for you to be awake up until this moment, but finds it ironic that he currently doesn’t want to wake you. he doesn’t even realize that he’s subconsciously moving hair away from your face until it’s too late, and does nothing to stop himself once he notices.

letting his hand drift down slightly to stroke the side of your face, he releases a shaky sigh. “i’m sorry, my sweet girl,” he whispers, watching with somber eyes as your expression softens as if you’re able to sense his presence in your sleep.

he makes his way over to his side of the bed and he knows that you won’t be affected by the way the mattress dips slightly as he lies down, because he’s done it so many times and you’ve never once woken up from it.

2:01 in the morning. wonbin hates that he can only lie beside you for a few hours before having to leave again, before you even get the chance to open your eyes. it’ll be as if he was never there. it’s completely out of his control, and wonbin knows that, but he hates it. you’d tell him that it’s alright, the same way you’ve done several times, but he hates it. he hates every bit of it.

it’s 11:01 in the morning by the time you wake up, and you don’t need to turn around in order to know that you’re the only person in the room. wonbin had been here, this much you know, and you wish that you had stayed awake longer if it meant being able to see him, even for a moment. you wish that you had woken up abruptly at some point last night if it meant being able to see his sleeping face.

you don’t dwell on the thought for long— you never do, knowing that it’d only make your situation a lot harder to deal with. you feel around your bedside table in search of your phone, not having the strength to get out of bed just yet.

strike one, you think to yourself. on the rare occasion that you wake up and wonbin is by your side, he always lightheartedly scolds you for checking your phone first thing in the morning. he’d disapprove if he saw you right now, but he isn’t here to stop you, so you do it anyway. coincidentally, the only notifications on display are from the boy in question.

[6:23 AM] my bin <3: hiii babe

[6:25 AM] my bin <3: call me when u get the chance!!!!! i’ll be available (i will literally drop everything and pick up)

[6:26 AM] my bin <3: i love u pretty ….. 🤮

your mood lifts just by seeing his name on your screen, a surge of energy coursing through your body. you decide to go about your normal routine, the idea of calling your boyfriend never leaving your mind.

it’s 11:20 by the time you make it downstairs, everything looking the exact same way you left it. wonbin is nothing if not organized; if there’s any disarray in your apartment, it’s all from you. unfortunately, this means that there’s not many traces of your boyfriend left behind, and you often hope for him to forget to hang up his coat or line up his shoes by the door just to prove that he’s there.

you walk into the kitchen and the first thing you take note of is that you still haven’t taken out the trash. strike two, you think.

you made a mental note to take care of it a few days ago and you still have yet to do so. wonbin hasn’t been around enough lately to notice, but you know he’d jokingly give you a roll of his eyes if he saw the way it’s practically overflowing right now before proceeding to take it out himself. he’d do the same with the dishes piled up in the sink, chatting away with you while he took care of everything like it was no problem, and to him, it really wasn’t.

god, you miss him.

you pull out your phone, disregarding everything else as you click on his contact and hold the device up to your ear. it rings only 4 times before you hear wonbin on the other end.

“i was hoping you’d call,” he says, and you faintly hear the voices of his group mates in the background. you almost let out a laugh at his words, just to fill the silence, but it only comes out as a quick exhale. “why wouldn’t i? you told me to. and i would’ve, even if you didn’t tell me to,” you murmur, your words leaving you faster than you wanted them to.

“i just don’t feel like i deserve it, i guess,” he replies. you’re about to ask him to elaborate before he continues. “i stopped by last night. i’m sorry i couldn’t come sooner, i really tried.” you pause at his choice of words, wondering if he even noticed that he said “stopped by” rather than something along the lines of “came home”, as if the two of you don’t live together.

you shake your head, deciding that you’re looking too much into it solely because not being able to see your boyfriend is taking a toll on you. “don’t apologize, bin,” you exhale, “i’ve told you a million times i understand. there’s not really anything you can do about it.”

you know he’s probably shaking his head on the other side of the phone, or running a nervous hand through his hair the way he always does. “i know, just- i’m sorry. i want to see you.” you nod, and he doesn’t see it. “i want to see you, too,” you reply. “should i wait up until 3am today?” your words are meant to be taken as a joke, but wonbin immediately retaliates. “you better not! your beauty sleep comes before anything else.”

you talk with him about anything that comes to mind and it’s as easy as it always is. when he tells you that he has to leave and get back to practicing, the two of you exchange prolonged “goodbye’s” and “i love you’s” before you finally pull the phone away from your ear with a sigh. you think that hearing his voice only made you miss him more.

when you look up from the phone you’re once again greeted with the trash can, as filled to the brim as ever, and you think taking it out would make for a good distraction. not far from it, the dishes are still piled up, and you consider washing them. you don’t, though. strike three.

you spend the rest of the day going through the motions, body moving on autopilot as it does quite often lately, and at the end of it all you look back on everything and think that it had all been normal— aside from the fact that wonbin doesn’t come home.

despite his initial protests, you’re awake until 3:26 in the morning. you’re not sure what time he arrived home last night, but you think that it couldn’t have been later than this.

you had made sure to take a nap at some point during the day just so you could be awake at this moment, to see your lover, talk to him, even if it had only been for a few minutes.

you shoot him a text, praying that the urgency you feel can be expressed through the little amount of words you send. you fall asleep waiting for his response, only to wake up to an empty phone, and an even emptier bed.

if there was barely any traces of wonbin in your shared apartment before, there definitely isn’t now; his lack of presence was evident the day before despite the fact that he had been there for merely a few hours, but after last night?

for a moment, it almost feels as though you live by yourself.

12:03 in the afternoon. swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you make an attempt to go about your routine as normal. you can already picture the sight you’ll be greeted with downstairs— an overflowing trash can, the accumulating dishes in the sink, only this time, there’s no messages from wonbin asking for you to give him a call or telling you that he loves you.

to your surprise, by the time you manage to trudge downstairs, you aren’t greeted by any of those things.

the trash can that had been previously close to spilling over has been emptied, an empty bag now taking its place. there’s no dishes in the sink, all of them instead sitting in the dish rack waiting to dry. before you’re able to turn around and demand an explanation, you feel arms wrapping around your waist, and you swear that your eyes almost fill up with tears.

“my sweet girl, i missed you,” wonbin utters from behind you, and in an instant, you’re spinning your body around and returning his embrace. he can sense that you’re about to ask him a myriad of questions, and opts to continue talking before you can get a word in. “i’ve only been here for about an hour or so. i’m sorry i couldn’t come home last night, baby.”

you shake your head, about to offer him the same reassurance you always do, when he begins to speak again. “i practiced until super late last night. i wanted to finish learning the choreography as fast as possible—“ you open your mouth to scold him, pulling away from his chest momentarily when he cuts you off for what feels like the thousandth time. “—and before you yell at me, it was for a good reason,” he pouts, waiting for you to press your lips into a tight line before starting to speak again.

“i overexerted myself a bit, i think, but it was all worth it. i’m all yours for the next few days,” he finishes, a hand stroking the back of your head. the two of you stand there for a while. “i love you’s” and “i missed you’s” are exchanged rather than goodbyes, and neither of you are willing to move from your positions, blissfully unaware of the passage of time for once. it’s alright, though— you both have time. a lot of it.

for a moment, wonbin gets the urge to apologize again, whether it be for all the times he’s arrived home late, or for leaving you alone with an overflowing trash can or a sink full of dishes, but it’s almost as if you’re able to read his mind. “don’t feel sorry anymore, bin,” he hears you say, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. he only nods, the words dying on his tongue. he decides that he’ll accept your reassurance just this once.

wonbin isn’t sorry, because this time, he isn’t late.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! beabadoobee my wife

[haerni]

HOW SWEET, “i’m without you”

synopsis: y’know it’s just an old trick && the demon who keeps knocking at your heart knows the formula,, but you won’t fall for it anymore, right ?

ft. lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun + park sunghoon. (based on ‘how sweet’ by NewJeans!)

content: fem reader! just hyung line trying to rizz (woo) you up, kind of exes to lovers, they fumbled lol except for jay, lowkey implied toxic relationship, miscommunication trope, subpar dialogues struggling fr, jake & reader has issues fr (10:36 inspo). 2.8k words

— as always minimal proofread and very self indulgent >< & also because i wrote it on a whim.

( 🗯️ ) notes: a very word vomit drabble, haven't written in a long time, my exams are approaching soon this is sort of a lil warm gift from me ! ^_^ can u tell i love jay.. he's literally every eldest daughter's dream :(

JUST STEP OUT YOU LITTLE DEMON IN MY STORYLINE don’t knock on my door, i’ll see you out

this has been too much of an occurrence, a habit that heeseung has grown accustomed to. he knows he shouldn’t, its not acceptable, he knows he’s subjecting himself to a torture that was designed to be his dreams of you.

he should stop, he should leave, yet he finds himself once more at the same blocks of pavements with the exact same four steps up to the porch decorated with flowers that bloom so prettily in the night. and his knuckles hits the same wooden door, eyes dazed, out of his mind, but he knocks.

he knows he doesn’t have any right to be here. to stand in front of your door letting his frame lean on it as he waits for the same footsteps he has memorized.

heeseung prided over being a gentleman, he’s respectful, he knows his boundaries—his place, but right now he’s anything that.

maybe lee heeseung has never been one after you.

he hears the scuffle behind the door, and maybe it was weird that he knows exactly those footfalls, how just sound manages to touch a vile in him, a rush of excitement thrums as he waits the door to creak open. because the other side to where he stands, there you were.

it opens.

there you are—his favorite girl. a frown adorning your face and your eyes reflecting the warm light above your door, “you can't keep doing this, heeseung.”

and a stupid smile makes its way to his face when you call his name. he’s almost thankful he stopped taking the drinks jake kept giving him, it could never even compare the sound he hears now (which he would rather much indulge in).

“hi, baby,” he breathed.

he may or may not remember this night, but he’ll regret it again in the morning.

you scoff at him, “you can’t call me that now, heeseung.” his name felt like acid to his face when you say it that way, but nevertheless lee heeseung lets you burn him—because he deserves it, a faint voice whispers in his head.

“sorry, bad habits.”

what a little liar, he was. because after all, he knows that you know it was, there was never a point for him to utter it in your face.

he doesn’t know what was worse, the venom that kills you or the silence that drowns you? heeseung prefers if you would curse him just a little, maybe he would feel more good with that, maybe it would lessen the guilt that lies heavy in his chest.

but heeseung is addicted, he is addicted to this tryst (you’re not together anymore, he reminds himself) and he still asks you the same question.

“let me in?”

he was bad for you, you knew that. he wonders why you still open your door for him every night his feet takes him to you? you were just as addicted as him, he surmised.

it’s selfish, but he wishes you’d stay the same.

DONE SCROLLING THOUSAND TIMES I KNOW IT’S AN OLD TRICK it’s a very simple formula

for someone who you call as your ex, park jongseong became much more than that to you.

your fallout was something you couldn't call fine, because it isn't. you were a mess—jay wanted to hold you and you can't have yourself fall over the edge just yet.

you weren't ready and he was.

you and jay are the polar opposite of each other. he was put together, he knows what he wants, he has everything, he is secure with himself. and you are simply not everything he was—it was daunting, it scared you and it was stupid. jay loved you all the same, he was perfect and that became bigger than all the good things you call in your relationship with him.

you knew that dating jay would come with perils and problems, you knew them you would both overcome it. but is love really enough to be an answer, when you were the problem itself?

it is incomprehensible to you, how can someone be capable to love this much?

you never asked him, he couldn't give you an answer that you deserve because of it.

it’s unhealthy—you are calling him again. you really shouldn't, you knew your friends would be disappointed. it's ironic how fast you fall in the abyss of darkness, but you couldn't trust yourself to do the same when he asked you to let him catch you. (familiarity was a variable that played a favor over your heart and jay knew that)

the dial tone rings—once, twice, you hear his voice.

“yn, you okay?” it was immediate and it's soft. it's too much. you're convinced you were cursed. you yearn for it, for him.

he waits for you, as he always does. patiently, as you knew him and he hears the breaths you take, the sniffles, he worries more. he tries to call you out once more.

“lov—” he catches himself from saying it, “hey, talk to me, angel.”

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what is wrong with me, ‘seong,” you try to catch your breath, apologizing as soon as you said it.

god, it breaks something in him, “it’s okay, yn. i got you, yeah?” he’s already at the door taking his keys, he doesn’t have any right, but you need him, right? please say it to him, please need him just one more time and let him hold you this time. as soon as he utters his prayers, you whisper.

“can you come to me..” it was so quiet he almost didn’t catch it, “please?” but he’s glad he did.

when he had declared that he would love one person in his life, he vowed and kept it. park jongseong was in it for you, he knew why you broke things off with him, he understood—like all the times he does. you probably didn't know, but he couldn't get himself to remove the picture of you in his bedside. when you called him a week after, he knew he should hang up the call and let you figure things out by yourself, but he didn't. your number stayed as it was before. he should grant you space and time, but he couldn't. because jay loved you so damn much, it's either you or no one else.

be damned all those fears that lingers with you, because park jongseong wants you and only you.

I WON’T ASK ANYMORE (HOW SWEET IT TASTES) you don’t have to tell me now that i’m without you

one thing that jake fails to understand was how much you think he doesn’t need you as much as you need him. he shoots all your words down before they can leave him out alone.

the nights have always been a nightmare for you, not because of the dark veils in the sky, or the monsters that chase you, but because you can’t sleep. you cannot descend to slumber as you would have when you were a child—it was easier then. now warmth was more of a problem for you, it’s a small problem it shouldn’t really be much to be fuzz over it. a stuff toy would’ve solved the problem just fine, it provided you the same security that lulls you into the night.

except that you have found sanctuary in sim jaeyun—a safe haven that envelopes you deeper into sleep, his warm body offers more than security. serenity and heaven sounds just as the same when he holds you in the night.

but everything should always come to an end, doesn’t it?

you don’t know when the peace he had offered cracks through you and it felt like a burden of guilt you couldn’t understand.

“we can’t keep doing this, ‘yunie.”

he doesn’t get you, confused and bewildered at your sudden statement to him when he sat down on your couch. he thinks you’re playing with him, maybe a prank, one of your silly little ideas. because he is sure as hell you didn’t just call your relationship as something like ‘this’, like it wasn’t worth of anything.

“what do you mean, yn?”

the air feels a little heavier, jake knew then that he wouldn’t like what was ever you were going to say. and he does whatever could save him of his position to you, whatever could shut down every rejection you think of. but before he could even dismiss it, this time you beat him to it.

“let’s stop this, jake. stop pretending like you need me.” you say more firmly.

he frowns at that, he doesn’t need you? are you being serious? “i don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty. because i’m pretty damn sure i’m not pretending here.”

you scoff at that. he doesn’t really get it does he? “aren’t you tired? we aren’t anything jaeyun, you’re just someone who helps me sleep at night and i don’t want to take up your time, i don’t want to use you. we’re nothing more, nothing less than this.”

this—jake hates that word now.

why do you keep using it, why are you reducing your relationship as to something less than what it should? why are you pushing him away now? why were you pretending like it’s nothing? why are you not understanding that you’re not the only one who needs something?

“what’s so wrong with this? with us?”

“everything!”

what’s wrong with that? what’s wrong with holding you in the night to sleep? so what if you don’t know what to label it between the boundaries of romantic and platonic? what was wrong with having you? what was wrong leaning to him? to ask him for help?

his eyes tell you everything you need to know that goes in his head, because you’ve known enough to read him. you were friends since you were fifteen and now you don’t know anymore, but you know him. you can’t lean into him anymore—not when, what you feel now steps over the line of what a friend should be.

(it feels weird now, to have the need to hold someone at night, yet you want it. but you can’t tie down jake, you can’t do that to him.)

jake doesn’t understand what the problem was. he knew the risk of what the two of you had agreed, he was willing to bet on every star that he wouldn’t mind for you to have him.

he doesn’t understand but he knows he loves you, “hold me, then. don’t let me go.” he pleads with you.

you can’t.

I’M FEELING MY OWN WAY I’M IN IT ‘CAUSE ME AND YOU ARE DIFFERENT so i won’t stay, i’m leaving

you and sunghoon has always been an intricate of woven patterns, with spools of threads of your color stitch into each of you. both of you are too much of each other. you used to think nothing could ever sever the tapestry the both of you weaved. that was before he was miles away from home and time was not a challenge to the both of you.

all the memories you remember were now bound with his last words before he left, “take care.”

he was called to train internationally, it was big. he was making a name for himself out there and now his name is called over to be known by the world. you’re always happy for him, you’re proud. sunghoon was made to be in the spotlight, he was made to be loved, he was born to be on a stage where he shines. and you think sunghoon looks pretty, he looks pretty when he’s on the rink, skating. he looks so happy there, a place so far yet so near where you can’t step in and reach.

he looks so happy without you and that was okay, you think to yourself. it’s okay, a repeated mantra sounding in your mind as you watch him through a screen.

waiting wasn’t new to you and wanting him more wasn’t either. you don’t really know what is much worse.

there is a space between that bleeds, an indentation of sunghoon in your heart. cold was a familiar company in your darkened nights, his name was like a ghost of an echo in your home.

it’s okay, you remind yourself again. you’re fine with this.

because he looks so happy when he’s not with you, park sunghoon belongs to the world and it makes you sick—even though you know it’s selfish and it’s disgusting to feel something like this—you realize then, you don’t want to be part of that world, just among the sea of faces he’ll forget.

the picture in the frames looks at you with mockery, his side in everything feels hollow and nothing. he is like the ocean that slips past beyond your fingers, but completely engulfs you wholly, having your lungs deluge in it. it pierces through like an arrow, the same ones where you used to believe it was out of love, before everything comes down.

you love park sunghoon, you really do. in the depths of your heart his name was carved gently and carefully.

a name that would solely have your heart beating in a mile, you've never thought it would just end up bleeding, cut open freshly with his own hands, a heart you have given so willingly and with so much trust that you can ever offer in a silver lining platter. to love boundlessly and endlessly until you’re a void of nothing, but a shell of yourself shriveled. but you can’t stop pouring the wine until it overflows—until it’s empty.

you’re not sure where it started, when all the warmth turned cold, where he decided to give up, you're not sure if you can keep fighting.

you never saw it coming, you’re sure the love the both of you had can overcome anything, it can have your relationship stay afloat through all the storms and tides of problems and indecisions, maybe you’re wrong, maybe it was him, maybe it was bound to happen. you’re too hurt to think about it. but a mirage plays in your mind dauntingly, that you can still have those memories you had together, the thread stands on its own, stretching to its limits, the lines dwindle and your hope dies down together with it.

when did his hands drop yours?

the indentation he leaves is noticeable, you can hardly miss it, after all you felt like you were the letter that got crumpled.

his name echoes around the walls of your home (can you still call it a home if it’s devoid of anything?) a mockery to you, his things were, his conspicuous absence, the darkened place of loneliness, the moonlight bleeds into the window, giving your room an illuminated light, it’s suffocating, and somehow the room seems smaller, closer, a cage or walls of once you knew were the sanctuary of comfort, now stands tall as nothing, but a reminder of the fall apart.

the heart of once you have loved was gone and you’re not sure if you’ll be fine by then. were you even sure of anything at all? living with a ghost of a name in your heart, moving on wasn’t always easy to do, but you hope nonetheless, you hope his name would be nothing, but healed scars from all of the distance.

he comes home on a random wednesday with nothing, but his training suit and eyes that you always adore tired and on the verge of falling. a crazed look of apprehension, sunghoon knew you were slipping through his fingers when you wouldn’t answer his calls anymore and the best thing he could think of was to hold you, physically—so you wouldn’t disappear on him.

when he stands in front of you the words don’t appear in front of him, it’s frustrating.

“why can’t you just leave me?”

and god does he wish you wouldn’t say that to him again.

“i can’t,” he whispers, “i tried and i simply can’t.”

when park sunghoon met you, he started dreaming—he was nine summers then. still has the childlike wonder who held admiration and you were eight who live on the other side of the road from his house, he thinks you were pretty.

like a beautiful sunset he always watches with his sister on the seaside, you always seem to be there for him anyway, catching a glimpse of your face on the side of his eyes. his coach always scolds him for being distracted in the rink, he only responds with,

“sorry, coach. i’ll do better.” he wanted to impress you back then. (he still does.)

the sun shines so brightly it doesn’t miss how it always seems to reflect your smile. laughing at something your friend has told you, he wonders what it was.

back then the two of you didn’t really talk much at first, always the brief gaze at each and little waves. but nothing more, he wishes to talk to you on other days, when the time is slow and the breeze washes all the heat from his face, but he doesn’t, always hesitating, almost made encounters, but by the end of it he’ll just back out the last minute.

it’s almost a surprise how he even managed to call you his, park sunghoon has loved you since the ninth of summer.

you still love him despite everything.

he thinks you are still pretty until now, wearing his old jersey with his name on it on the sidelines, cheering him on top of your voice, he decided right then that he would like to have you always there for him.

—fin.

｡｡｡ ♥︎ likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated! hope y'all like this, i went a lil crazy on hoon ㅠㅠ.

[byunejoo]

four seventeen p.m 𐦍

pairing asakura jo x fem reader

content est relationship, virgin!jo, inexperienced boyf!jo, big dick!jo, he’s kinda massive, oral (m rec), handjobs, fingering (f rec), finger sucking, kind of dom!reader but not really, virginity loss, protected and mentioned unprotected sex, condom breaking, he’s embarrassed, he lowkey has a praise kink, potential size kink, mentioned pulling out (but only barely)

word count 3.8k

notes not a request! (where are the jo requests </3) lol i told myself when i was writing this that it wouldn’t be long bc i wasn’t attracted to jo like that…..brain said “u wanna bet dani?” also this is not proofread and the ending was rushed so don’t mind any mistakes please

To say that Jo was nervous would be a major understatement.

You’d been dating Jo for a few months now and it was nothing short of wonderful. It seemed that the two of you operated on the same wavelength; you both shared the same hobbies, opinions, interests, and even your differences didn’t clash, but instead balanced each other out. It almost felt like you were made for one another.

On the other hand, though, he felt very nervous for the next step in your relationship. So far, all you have done was minimal affection—a kiss here and there, hugging and some slightly-stiff cuddling. But he’d noticed lately how much more clingy you were, how your touches lingered, kisses were longer, and your eyes wandered. He wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were thinking about.

But the issue comes when it actually gets down to it.

It’s not that Jo is a virgin by choice. Well—his own choice. There were times where he brushed off his nerves with others he was interested in, but once they had gotten his pants down, all plans fell through. In short, Jo’s dick is big. Much bigger than most people know how to handle. And instead of making him cocky and confident about his size, it did the complete opposite. He felt almost ashamed.

So, when you took initiative one afternoon, kissing him a little harder and longer than you usually do, he got nervous. He tried to keep up with kissing you back, but all he could focus on was your hand that dropped past his shoulder, sneaking further and further down his front. When he felt your fingertips brush past his belly button, he gasped and pulled back from the kiss. You, shocked from the abrupt action, pulled your hand away quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Have you done something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable?

“I’m sorry—,” you both started. The two of you gestured to one another to continue, awkwardly laughing.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shared a laugh about speaking again at the same time, but a blanket of seriousness covered the two of you after that. It was quiet and a little awkward. Neither of you wanted to be the one to break the silence after that. You watched as Jo avoided your gaze and fidgeted with his fingers. Those fingers that you often find yourself staring at as of late. Just thinking, wondering, imagining how they would feel—. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous to…do anything.”

You regained your focus, letting your eyes snap back up to look at his face. His cheeks were tinted a slightly pink shade, his ears red, and although he was trying to look at you, he couldn’t stop his shifty eyes. “We don’t have to do anything, JoJo, that’s okay.”

“I want to!” If you hadn’t been staring at him so intently, you would’ve been startled by his sudden burst. “Sorry…. I-I want…to do stuff. I’m just nervous.”

Reaching a comforting hand out, you patted him on the shoulder. “Why’s that, babe? What makes you so nervous?”

Jo finally made eye contact with you. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your gaze yet again. He’s not sure if he could tell you while you’re looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to see the look of disappointment when he tells you “I’m a virgin.”

You snort a little, breathing out a sigh of relief. Scooting closer to him, you pressed right up against him to lean your head on his shoulder. “Thank god. I thought it was something I had done. You know I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not. We can do whatever you want, and not do whatever you don’t.”

He couldn’t deny how he hardened in his pants, thinking about finally having that moment, and with you of all people, being someone he cares about deeply. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the bulge in his pants, but kept your eyes trained on his face as you reached for it. You were searching for any sign of hesitation, any sign he wants you to stop. But there wasn’t one.

And when you finally placed your hand over it, Jo felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but that didn’t matter. In just a matter of time, with the way your hand was now working over his pants, he would be.

“Is this okay?” You could feel the way his thighs tense beside your hand. He was still avoiding your gaze, but you could see that he was looking at where you touch him. He nods. “I want to hear you say it.”

“It-It’s o-kay.” His voice was a little shaky, but it gave you all the confirmation you needed.

You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw. Adding a little more pressure, you cupped your hand more firmly around him, squeezing occasionally. His cock hardened, becoming more solid in your grasp. He gasped, taking shallow breaths as you kissed along his jaw and neck while you moved your hand. “Can I take your pants off?”

Your fingers slipped under his waistband when he said yes, hooking around his pants and underwear, pulling them both down to his thigh. His—now fully hard—cock sprung up, hitting against his stomach with a soft thud. Heat rushed from his chest all the way up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He groaned, reaching for his half-discarded pants. But you pushed his hands away and pinned his wrists to his side. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move. Were you going to laugh at him? Humiliate him and tell him he was too big to do anything with, like everyone else?

No, you didn’t do any of that. “Is this what you were worried about, puppy?” He almost sighed at the petname. “Were you worried that your big dick would scare me away?” He nodded. You couldn’t help but let out another laugh. Not because you were laughing at him, nor making fun of him, but you can’t believe that all this time it was only because of something he has no control over.

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

You coo. “I’m not laughing at you. I think it’s cute that you were worried about this. But I promise it doesn’t scare me. Actually, it’s kind of arousing.” As you spoke, you smoothed over the skin of his thighs, hoping to make him less tense. “I’ll only do what you allow me to do. Can I touch you?”

“Yes. I want you to touch me, please.”

As you move to straddle his legs, Jo feels the bed shift under the movement of your knees, much like the way his stomach turns and dips at the realization that it’s happening. You are about to touch him, you’re going to make him cum, being the first person other than himself to do so. Your steady hands reach out, and after what feels like centuries, you finally wrap them around his cock. Two of your hands don’t even cover him completely from base to the tip. You give him a few experimental, dry pumps first before removing one hand. Spitting into the palm of it, you then used it to lubricate the glide of your hands on his length.

It felt much different having your hands on him versus his own. Your touch, although firm, was a lot softer. Gentler. You moved your hands a lot more slowly, familiarizing yourself with the heavy feeling of him in your hands. Feeling every inch of him, every little vein, and embedding that feeling into your mind. Your thumb swipes over his tip, dragging little beads of precum down, making every tug and twist of your hands on his cock even wetter and more slick. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and let out low moans. He could barely register when you asked if you could use your mouth, which he agreed to, of course.

The contact from your tongue had his eyes shooting open, feeling like all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He managed to let his eyes wander down, and he was met by the sight of you already looking at him, kitten licking over his tip while stroking him. Then, while he kept eye contact with you, you wrapped your lips around him. Only the tip at first. Gently suckling, hollowing your cheeks, then pulling off. After a few moments, you began to take more of him into your mouth. Just a couple of inches, little by little, until you felt you couldn’t take any more. You used one hand to follow behind your mouth so not one inch of his cock went untouched as you moved your head, bobbing up and down, back and forth. Jo could only grip the sheets beside his legs tightly, moaning and sighing. It was a feeling he’d never felt before. One that he could only think about in his dirty fantasies. The idea of someone being brave enough to pleasure him and his big dick was something he thought was too far-fetched, something he thought he’d never experience in his entire life. But here you are, sucking him off and giving him pleasure he could only dream of.

Before he realizes it, a tight feeling spreads from his flexed abdomen down to his toes, where he curls them while trying to fend off his pending orgasm. He knows he can’t hold off much longer, but he selfishly wants to have your mouth around him as long as he can have it. “Ah, I-I’m gonna c-um…” His words were broken from the sounds he’d been making previously. You didn’t stop nor slow down, and instead attempted to take just a little more between your lips. One hand moved to shuffle his shirt out of the way, the other holding his length steady as you moved your focus to rolling your tongue over and suckling what you have stuffed in your mouth. His thighs tensed and shook lightly as you pushed him right over the edge, humming around him. Your tongue laps up every drop he spills, causing broken moans to rumble from his chest straight to your core. You’d pretty much tuned out your own reactions, focusing on pleasuring him for the first time, but you can’t deny how badly it had affected you.

Once you’d swallowed every drop you could, and he was twitching from overstimulation, you climbed off of Jo’s legs and sat by his side. “Was that okay?” You pressed your thighs together looking at him. His chest was heaving up and down with the deep breaths he was taking to regulate his breathing, his hair was slightly tousled from your previous kiss, and the slight sheen of sweat on his flushed cheeks looked all too good to you. Not to mention the faintest of red marks on his neck from where you’d attached your lips earlier and the way his eyes are squeezed shut. He nodded, not confident in his voice yet. Yes, it was good, he wanted to tell you. Better than I could’ve imagined.

A heavy, but comfortable, silence fell upon the both of you as you allowed Jo to catch his breath. However, you couldn't deny that his labored breathing next to you, and the desire bubbling up and finally coming to a head once you’d finally seen what you’d been longing for didn’t make you want more. But you promised, you’d only do what Jo wanted. You’d go at his pace. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, would it?

“Do you want to go…further?” Yet again, his breath caught in his throat at your bold question. “It’s okay if not.”

He nods, seemingly the only reaction he can manage at this point. And with a few more questions, answered with a shake or a nod of his head, you had switched positions. Now you were laying in the spot he previously had been, knees bent and pressed together as Jo sits on his heels, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted him to do. He’d never gotten this far with anyone else, either.

“Take off my shorts. Just the shorts.” You stared at him, watching him nervously lick his lips. His plump lips that you can’t wait to feel all over you—but that’s for next time. This time, you wanted the focus to be less about you, despite how his full attention was on you now. This was his first time, and you want the experience to be all about him. But you aren’t sure if you could take him without some sort of preparation first. So you watch as his trembling fingers hook around the waistband of your flimsy shorts, gently tugging them off of your skin. You lift your hips so he could pull them off easier. Then, you moved your feet once the fabric pooled around your ankles, watching as he dropped them to the side. He struggled to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, totally unsure of where he’s allowed to look. “Look at me, babe. I want you to take my panties off, and I want you to see how wet I am for you.”

Jo feels like he’s going to explode with the words you’re saying. You’re wet? For him? These words are so simple yet so new and vulgar to him, but he thinks he likes them. He wants to hear more. So he hooks his fingers around the fabric of your underwear, much like he had done with your shorts before, only this time more confidently. However, he wasn’t ready for the sight in front of him when he’d pulled them off. Naturally, his eyes followed an imaginary line from your ankles all the way down your legs, where he saw what he thinks is one of his new favorite sights. You’d spread your thighs as he slipped your panties off of your legs, and he had a clear view of your gorgeous pussy. It was so pretty, and you hadn’t lied when you said you were wet. He couldn’t help but admire how some of your arousal had leaked into the seat of your underwear, spreading across your folds that glisten now that he’d removed the clothing.

“Give me your hand.” You reached out for him, and without much thought, he placed his large hand in your own. One by one, you curled his fingers down until he had just his pointer finger standing. Then, you guided his hand between your legs. You helped him slide his finger through your slick arousal, wetting his finger and dragging it back up to your clit. “You feel that? All for you.” After that, you let go of his wrist and let him feel for himself.

He timidly ran his finger through your slit like you’d done, then stopped at your entrance. His fingertip breached the opening, being met with little resistance. Inch by inch, little by little, he pushes his finger into you slowly. Pulling it out, pushing back in, he sets an inexperienced, slow pace. Jo was fascinated with watching his finger disappear inside you. “More. Another one, please.” You breathed out. He hadn’t even noticed any of the sounds you were making before. But he obliged and added a second finger beside his first one. The feeling was new to him, having you squeeze around his fingers each time he thrust them in. And every moan and shaky breath you let out was something he could get used to. “Oh, Jo, your fingers are so good. Doing so well.” Every praise sent a shock through his body, and in turn caused him to fuck his fingers into you just a little faster. Twisting his wrist, curling his fingertips—anything to get you to make those noises again.

Suddenly, your hand shoots down to grasp at his wrist. He freezes in shock, halting all movement. “Mm, don’t stop, please. Almost there.” With barely enough time to register the words that slipped past your lips, Jo watches as you begin to grind yourself on his fingers. Whines, whimpers, gasps, all noises floating through the air make him twitch, already getting hard again. You’re fully fucking yourself on his fingers now, taking charge and pushing yourself closer to orgasm. And when your thighs start to tremble and your hips jerk, Jo finally snaps out of his trance and begins to move his fingers. He curls them and drags them against your walls, feeling you clench down on them. His thumb brushes against the spot you showed him earlier, your clit, and starts rubbing gentle circles on it. Your hips jerked, stomach caving in with the pleasure. A few swears mixed with broken moans ripped through your throat at the added sensation, riding out your high until you lightly twitched with overwhelming sensitivity.

He pulled his fingers out of you, covered and soaked by your slick release. Staring, he’s a little uncertain of what to do now; does he wipe them off? What is he supposed to do now that they’re sticky and covered in you? Luckily, he didn’t have to think much before you sat up on weak arms to take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swipes up, down, and between his two fingers, licking him clean of any trace of arousal left behind. His mouth drops open in shock watching you, eyes following your every move closely. You hum around his fingers and pull off with a lewd pop sound. He couldn’t deny that he was hard again, mind racing with thoughts as you stare at him with eyes clouded by lust.

“Can-Can we…keep going?” He’s the one to ask this time. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shakiness in his voice, but you confidently nodded.

You rolled over to your side, stretching to reach your bedside table and pulling open the drawer on it. Reaching in, you fished around before pulling your hand back out with a shiny foil packet. “Have you ever put a condom on before?” He shook his head no and you beckoned him closer. Sitting up, you watch as he awkwardly shuffles his way to you, hard cock pathetically bobbing with each movement. “Watch me do it.”

With a firm grip, you held the base of his cock steady. You pinched the very end of the condom with one hand, and slowly started to roll it down his length with the other. It was a bit hard to do, but you managed to completely unroll it. The entire time, Jo’s eyes were trained on the work your hands were doing, trying to etch it into his memory for later use.

“It’s a bit tight.” He almost chokes on air at your words. “The condom, I mean. Does it feel alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jo looks at where you’re staring, and he sees the condom stretched tightly around his girth. He shakes his head no again, and you lay back, allowing him to continue.

He shuffles between your spread legs and tries to line himself up. When you realize that he’s just a little bit too shaky, you grab his wrist. “Jo. Are you sure you want to do this? You seem really nervous.”

He nods. You shake your head, urging him to use his words. “I’m…okay. I want to…do this. Please.”

“Okay. Okay. Take your time, babe.” You leaned back, relaxed. “There’s no rush.”

To Jo, it felt like an eternity before he was able to calm down enough to do anything. He was nervous, and excited. It was finally happening; he’d finally lose his virginity if he could just—. He presses his tip into you. The stretch was a lot, almost too much, but your slick wetness and the extra lubrication on the condom made the glide easier. Coupled with the fact that Jo was taking his time — he was pressing into you so slowly that if you couldn’t feel how he was stretching you out, you wouldn’t believe he was moving at all.

Jo braced himself on his hands beside your body. He slowly pushed his length into you until you couldn’t take any more. The two of you let out shaky breaths in unison, adjusting to the feeling. Of you being so full and of him being squeezed so tightly.

It was unlike any time he touched himself. For a while, he’d wrap his large fist around his equally long and thick cock, dreaming about this moment. He knew it would feel different. He just didn’t know it would feel this different. Having your gummy walls stretched and squeezing so tightly around him had his head spinning, and before he knew it, he was absentmindedly rutting his hips into you, trying to pathetically bury himself deeper inside you.

You gasped, grasping his shoulders, lightly digging your fingernails in. “Oh, Jo.” Small moans floated through the room. “You’re doing so good.”

He sits up on his knees to better drive his hips into yours, slightly jolting your body with every thrust. He, too, was letting out small noises of pleasure, trying to focus on what he was doing so it was pleasurable for both of you. But all of a sudden, he stops.

It took everything in you to not whine. Instead, you kept your composure. Maybe he didn’t want to continue anymore? This is a lot to take in, going from completely inexperienced to having your first everything in one night. You glided your hands down from his shoulders to his bicep, all the way down to his wrists to squeeze comfortingly. “Are you okay, Jo?”

He nods, shakes his head, then nods again. “I-Um. I’m…fine. It’s just,” you gently encourage him to speak. “I think…I think it broke.”

“The condom?” He nods. “Pull out. Pull out and let me see.” It took some urging, but he did eventually, hesitantly, pull out. And he was right — the condom had split and now had to be discarded. Jo had a pout on his face as he watched you gently pull off the ripped condom and toss it aside. He was fully prepared for you to tell him you can’t continue, and he accepted that. But you didn’t.

He lets out a confused noise. “We can keep going if you want.” You repeat. “Just let me know when you’re going to finish so you can pull out, okay?”

The feeling of being inside you without that extra barrier is so mind numbing that he almost doesn’t pull out. Almost.

[daisyvisions]

Drive Me Crazy - (j.hn)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: inexperienced boyfriend!Hakyneon x experienced afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.5K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), pwp (minimal plot) me thinks, car sex, mentions of fingering, dry humping, blowjobs, oral (f! receiving). Handjob, unprotected sex (with multiple creampies), lots of making out and kissing, a lot of curse words (sorry), pet names (sweetheart, baby), virginity loss

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Original idea was loosely inspired by an actual experience I had (but took the liberty of making it smuttier hehe 😈) Dedicating this one to you @winterchimez / @midnightfantasiez. Proofread once.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

“Fuck, are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my life-”

You pant into his mouth as you take a breather from making out for god knows how long. It’s been over eight months since you and Haknyeon have officially started dating and safe to say, it was like you two were still in some wild honeymoon phase.

Every chance you found yourselves alone together, you two wasted no time being in each other’s arms and letting out all the pent up tension you had on one another. Sneaking off into storage closets to make out, held back moans as he fingered you in bathrooms, and now? Dry humping the hell out of each other at the back of his car.

And all you had to do was give him one look across the room of this birthday party and he knew what you wanted. It’s those damn eyes, he smirks to himself before subtly motioning you to meet him outside.

It must’ve been the alcohol and the way he looked tonight because all you were thinking about as soon as he picked you up was to get him alone and finally ride him into sunrise.

You hastily got off his lap and flipped your hair to the side, hands eagerly finding their way to his crotch and trying to unbuckle his belt as fast as you could.

You could practically feel yourself salivating seeing his hard on tenting beneath his jeans. As you’re about to unzip his pants, he holds your wrists and stops you from going any further.

“W-wait-” He stutters.

“Ugh, Hak… again?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

This wouldn’t be the first time he stopped you from touching him despite allowing him to freely touch any part of your body. At first, you thought he wanted to take things slow, especially after you confessed to him that you have never been in a slow-paced relationship.

Every guy you’ve been with always wanted to get in your pants immediately and not enjoy the subtle touches and slow kisses here and there of a new relationship. So when Haknyeon asked you to be his girlfriend he promised you that he would give that to you.

But you didn't know he would take the term “slow” that seriously.

Yes, a relationship shouldn’t just be based on the sexual aspect, you knew that. You would still love Haknyeon even if he turned into a small little worm. But you’re just a girl after all. A girl with needs. You were horny as hell… and fingers and pussy eating were not going to make you last long.

You wanted his dick and you wanted it now.

“I don’t understand-” You pull away from him. “Is it me? Am I too much for you? Am I not attractive enough?” You started to feel a slight pain in your chest on the latter thought.

“No! No. You’re practically a goddess-”

“Then why don’t you want me to touch you then?” You pout. “I’m sorry Hak, I know we wanted to take things slow-” You huff out air you’ve been keeping in your lungs. “But- it’s not fair.”

“Not fair? What do you mean?” He looks at you with worried eyes.

“You get to touch me but I don’t get to touch you! Is there something wrong?” You patiently wait for his answer as Haknyeon closes his eyes and lets out a big sigh.

“You might laugh at me…” He could feel his cheeks warming up by the second.

“I've… I’ve never done this before…” He glances at you quickly before looking back at his hands.

“What do you mean you’ve never done this before?” Your eyebrows raise.

“I’ve never had sex okay? There I said it!” He exclaims, widened eyes looking back at you, waiting for your reaction.

“But, I’ve given you head before-”

“Yeah and I nearly came within the first thirty seconds. Had to breathe in deeply and bite my lip so you wouldn’t notice at all.” He looks down at his hands again, feeling ashamed.

“You probably think I’m a loser right now-”

“Hak- look at me.” You cup his face in your hands, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“That doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be with you, to feel you-” You kiss him again, but this time slipping in your tongue as Haknyeon lets out a tiny whimper.

“Would you let me feel you?” You whisper into his mouth. He hesitates for a moment, but as soon as he looks deep into your eyes he let go of his fear.

“Fuck- Please do…” He grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap once again, kissing your lips before leaning down to suck the sensitive skin on your neck.

You moan at his plump lips leaving their marks on you as your hands traveling from the back of his neck all the way down to finally unzip his jeans, freeing his aching cock from its confinements.

He suddenly stops kissing your neck and pulls away as you palm his erection, almost grabbing your wrists again out of impulse but you bring your hand to his cheek and caress him with your thumb.

“Shh It’s okay. Let me take care of you.” You slide your hand down his boxers, pulling out his member as you wrap your fingers around the warm skin.

Haknyeon hisses in pleasure, trying not to burst any second from how you’re slowly jerking him off. You smear his oozing precum around his length, gradually increasing the speed of your wrists as you kiss his neck.

“F-feels so good-” Haknyeon moans against your ear.

“Yeah? You think you can handle more?” you mumble against his neck.

“Please- I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep this up.” He feels you smirk against his skin as you stop your hand from fisting his length.

You lift your hips up and adjust your position as you pull your panties to the side, rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds before aligning it to your wet entrance and slowly sinking down.

“Fuck fuck fuck- wait a second.” Haknyeon whines out.

“What’s wrong?” You bite your lower lip, trying to hide your amusement at how he’s reacting.

“You’re really wet.” He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.

“Well… that’s what you do to me.” You lean in to whisper in his ear.

Without warning you start to roll your hips, He deep groan comes out of his mouth as he tightens his grip on your waist.

“Oh that’s it, holy shit…” He moans as he guides your hips, “C’mere-”

He kisses you with much fervor as he gradually pulls your hips faster until you’re practically bouncing on his cock. You whimper against his mouth as you feel his thick length dragging within your velvety walls, finally feeling full inside because of him.

“Sweetheart t-think I’m gonna cu-oh!” His member twitches inside you.

“Give it to me baby, inside!” You try to bounce faster but Haknyeon suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, thrusting up quickly inside you like an animal in heat.

You feel a gush of warm fluid exploding inside you as he lets out grunting sounds. You think he’d stop at this point but he just keeps on thrusting into you, feeling his cum spilling out while the tip of his cock nudges that sweet spot deep within.

“Gonna- ah!” You shout, feeling your walls tighten as Haknyeon doesn't stop fucking up into you.

“C’mon, cum on me sweetheart. Can practically feel your walls choking my dick.” He groans into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, think I’m gonna cum again-”

“Cum with me Hak, please!” As soon as you utter those last words, he’s bursting inside of you once again. His load just as heavy as the last. You also reach your high at the same time, feeling yourself gush onto his member while seeing stars. You’re both moaning and panting into each other’s mouths. Kissing each other as if it was your only source of oxygen.

As you’re about to get off of him, he holds your hips down.

“C-can we uh… go again?” He shyly asks.

“You mean now?!” You gasp at the feeling of his member still hard and twitching inside you.

“Yeah…” You could practically see his cheeks turning red from asking. You let out a chuckle before kissing his forehead.

“Just, give me a moment okay?” You rest your head on his shoulder, keeping his cock plugged inside you til you’re ready to go again.

And boy, did you two go at it for hours and hours til the sun started to rise.

[ode2rin]

JUST MAYBE .ೃ

pairing. isagi yoichi x gn!reader

genre. strangers to .. hopefully something more? | slow burn | chance encounter

content/warnings. 2.3k+ wc | characters are in their early 20s ! | pro-athlete!isagi | reader works in a bookstore | profanity | a bit heavy in narration | written in reader’s perspective |  minimal proofread | ooc!isagi (sorry it’s my first time writing for him..) | open ending

in which: a cafe encounter with a stranger shows you exactly how well fate intervenes

💭 thank you for the request anon!

this is it. this is the last straw.

this is the last time you’re ever allowing yourself to be vain and believe empty words from a man.

sitting in a café, self-pity takes hold of you as regret washes over your being. the nagging feeling, the hollowness in your gut that you should have paid attention to, now mocks you with its undeniable presence. how could you have ignored it, brushing it off as if it were insignificant?

the bustling café seemed oblivious to your disappointment, the air thick with the laughter and whispers of couples lost in their own bliss. their happiness, a stark contrast to your own melancholic state.

you glance at your phone, the screen displaying a conversation that adds salt to the wound.

you: let me know if you’re on your way! [2:06 pm] you: hey, i’m already here :) is everything fine? [2:43 pm]

a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the weight of anger and embarrassment settling upon your shoulders. 

dating in your early twenties has proven to be far more challenging than you ever imagined. while your friends effortlessly navigate the labyrinth of love, you find yourself trapped in a cycle of dashed hopes and unfulfilled connections. 

here you are, once again left sitting alone at a table meant for two.

and you know it's destructive to point fingers at directions pointing to you, but for goodness sake, can anyone just tell you what's wrong with you? or can fate simply provide apparent signs, allowing both you and the divine to save precious time? 

because it's becoming increasingly draining. 

the cycle repeats itself relentlessly: falling in love, only for it to unravel into a cacophony of screams and tears. your heart shattered, you gather the pieces and muster the courage to try again, only to wonder what awaits in the next stage of this never-ending cycle.

and you can’t help but to wonder, when will it ever be your turn? if other people could experience a love so kind, why can’t you? why can't you have what they have? what makes you any less deserving?

is it really too much to ask for a love that doesn't demand a piece of your soul as collateral? can't there exist a love where vulnerability isn't met with heartache?

and coming from someone who has been gravely hurt in the name of so-called love, it’s impossible not to wonder if such love even exists in this world or if it's merely a figment of your imagination born from those contemporary romance books you read on your lonely nights.

well, there's no use crying over spilled milk. he wasn't all that anyway. besides, you had only agreed to this supposed date due to your friend's persistent nagging, urging you to break your self-imposed “man ban” streak and venture back into the world of romance. “why not?” you had thought at the time, only to be reminded why you even imposed such a ban in the first place.

“excuse me, is this seat taken? the place is kinda packed, so if you don’t mind..” 

lost in your thoughts, you're momentarily startled as a soft voice interrupts your reverie. the stranger before you stumbles over his words, shyness coloring his demeanor.

you take a moment to truly see him— this man who has unexpectedly entered your sphere. and heavens, he is gorgeous.

“no, it’s not taken. please, feel free.”

with your response, the stranger settles into the seat across from you. as he takes a sip from his cup, your nose takes a whiff of the inviting aroma of his latte, which fills the air, adding another layer of warmth to the already vibrant café atmosphere.

taking a contemplative sip of your own drink, you savor the flavors that dance on your tongue. the comforting embrace of the warm liquid spreads through your body, soothing your senses.

his blue-eyed gaze drifts toward your own drink, curiosity evident within those pools. “what drink is that? it looks intriguing.”

you can't help but internally chuckle at his attempts at small talk. your drink is nothing spectacular, let alone intriguing, but the fact that he wants to make something out of it gives you a glimpse of his endearing shyness.

still, you smile, pleased by his interest. “it's actually their signature drink. i find it quite enjoyable. and your latte? it looks divine.”

well, you’re not any better than his attempts. seriously? what looks exceptionally divine about a latte?

the man in front of you nods appreciatively, taking another sip from his cup. “nothing grand, just a decaf latte. i find it soothing and energizing, especially on slow days like this one.”

you hum in response, seemingly out of attempts for small talk. but the lack of a coherent response from you doesn’t elicit an uncomfortable silence, but rather the opposite. a cozy silence settles between you, the ambient sounds of the café serving as a gentle backdrop to your now shared sphere.

after a few minutes of sitting in silence, you notice from your peripheral vision that he steals a few glances your way, as if waiting for the right moment to strike up another conversation.

cute.

it's an understatement, as a matter of fact. the guy before you is downright mesmerizing. if you could gaze at his face for more than two seconds without being called weird, you could map the entirety of how blessed this man’s face is — the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he speaks, the subtle strength in his jawline, and the way his hair falls in a perfectly disheveled manner.

and his eyes. damn, his eyes. such a beautiful shade of blue must have taken the hand of god some time to create.

“so –”

“what –”

the two of you speak simultaneously, your voices overlapping in the air, prompting you both to take a moment and stare at each other before laughing at the coincidence.

“you first,” you offered.

“no, you go first.”

you offer a warm smile and motion for him to go first. “i insist.” the truth is, after seeing him laugh, you momentarily forgot what you were even about to ask.

it’s just a laugh. get it together.

were you this deprived of someone’s company to melt at their laugh? or is this stranger just so painfully beautiful that it’s now affecting your memory and ability to converse?

his lips curl into a shy smile as he hesitates for a brief moment. his eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “alright, well, i was wondering... do you come here often? i don’t think i’ve seen you here before.”

you shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “not really. i'm actually a newcomer here. i work at a bookstore nearby, and i stumbled upon this place by chance.”

it was two truths and one lie. and as apparent as it was, you sure as hell didn’t “stumbled upon this place,” where in truth and fact, you were invited here by your supposed-to-be date who might have forgotten to reply to you two hours after your last message.

“the bookstore on the main street? it’s a huge place, that’s so cool. my friend, chigiri, has been meaning to visit there. maybe i’ll try to tag along some time.”

a blush crept up your cheeks, touched by his admiration. it was a stark contrast to the belittlement toward your job you had encountered in past dating experiences, and this wasn’t even a date. “thank you. i’ll be happy to help you and your friend when you drop by.”

“so, what do you do, mr…?” you asked, trying to delve deeper into the conversation.

“oh, pardon me for not introducing myself properly. i’m isagi yoichi, and i, uhm, play soccer for a living. it's not as impressive as being surrounded by books all day, though.”

isagi yoichi. soccer player.

so that explains the hint of a lean physique beneath his clothes – not that you were checking him out. anyone with eyesight could detect that this gorgeous stranger, isagi, is in great shape. yup, definitely not checking him out.

“and yours?”

“hmm? sorry, what were you saying?”

a soft smile tugs at isagi's lips as he repeats his question, “i was just asking about your name.”

you bring your attention back to the present, realizing you've momentarily lost yourself in his gaze. “oh. it’s l/n y/n.”

as the words of your name hang in the air, a sense of familiarity begins to settle between you. you and isagi engage in a comfortable conversation, effortlessly weaving in and out of topics. each exchange reveals more about your respective lives, forging a connection that feels too genuine for people who just met not even an hour ago. 

isagi shares stories from his soccer career, the highs and lows, the challenges and triumphs. his passion for the sport shines through in every word, and you find yourself captivated by how animated he is in sharing his tales. it's a pleasant break from your previous experiences, where self-importance seemed to be the common thread among your dates. 

with isagi, there's no trace of conceit hanging in every word. 

in turn, you open up about your love for literature and the joy you find in sharing stories with others. isagi listens attentively, his eyes sparkling with interest as you speak about the power of words and the magic that exists within the pages of books. 

while it becomes evident that he may not be an avid reader himself, there's a beautiful acceptance and respect in the way isagi listens. he never once made you feel as though your love for literature is any less significant than his passion for soccer.

amidst the lively exchange, you catch glimpses of isagi's gentle nature, his ability to make you feel at ease, and his genuine curiosity about your thoughts and experiences. it's a refreshing change from the superficial interactions you've had in the past, and you're left wondering if the man in front of you is even real.

you can't help but laugh at the thought of men being able to hold a conversation like isagi. and while that proves that the bar may be in hell, but damn, it is as if isagi raised it above his own head.

time seems to slip away as the conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and genuine moments of connection. there are no awkward silences, no need for pretense or guardedness. it's as if you've known each other for much longer than a chance encounter in a café.

just when you think the moment might stretch into eternity, isagi’s ringing phone slices through the air, abruptly breaking the spell. 

his eyes widen, a touch of regret flickering across his face as he retrieves his phone from his pocket. “ah, it's my teammate. i'm afraid i have to head out first,” he says with a tinge of disappointment.

your heart sinks a little at the prospect of parting ways so soon. “oh, it's okay. i had a nice time, isagi,” you reply, attempting to mask your disappointment.

“me too,” isagi responds, his voice filled with a hint of tone you’re feigning ignorance too. “i wish we could talk more.”

you can sense the hesitance in his words, the unspoken desire to extend the encounter. it's an opening, a moment of curiosity lingering between you. seizing the opportunity, you decide to tease him ever so slightly. “hmm, well, that call seemed important,” you remark, raising an eyebrow playfully.

you’re not dense, but you were curious to see how he would try.

isagi fidgets, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i think so. we have an upcoming match next weekend,” he stumbles over his words, clearly struggling with the invitation he's about to extend. “speaking of the match, would it be too forward of me to invite you to watch?”

wouldn’t it? 

your heart flutters at the invitation, and for a brief moment, you contemplate the possibilities.

this day had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. one moment, you were nursing the wounds of being stood up, wallowing in self-pity and contemplating the challenges of dating. and now, here you were, being invited by a complete stranger — a stranger who also happened to be the most captivating person you've ever laid eyes upon.

fate be damned, because it seems to have a wicked sense of humor, toying with your emotions from one extreme to another.

glancing down at your cup, you swirl the remaining liquid, feigning nonchalance to mask the racing thoughts in your mind. “depends on who you want me to attend as,” you tease, curious to see how he responds.

you raise your eyes, locking eyes with isagi, only to find him wearing a boyish grin that could rival the sun and staring at you with those damn blue eyes that put the oceans to shame.

“anything you can offer to be, right now.”

fuck it. 

with a surge of boldness, you decide to take a leap of faith. “then i would love to be there.”

the energy shifts as isagi beams at your acceptance of his invitation. he bids you goodbye, only to hesitate and return to you with an endearing awkwardness. he offers his number, tripping over his own words as he suggests you can call him whenever you want. you can't help but laugh at his adorable awkwardness, finding it endearing beyond measure. you hand him your phone, and with hurried movements, he inputs his number before bidding you goodbye once more.

with a smile lingering on your lips, you watch isagi's retreating figure, feeling a warmth radiate through you. your gaze then shifts to the phone in your hand, where you see the contact name you've set for him. 

maybe: isagi yoichi

why not, right? you're down to take the chance.

because maybe, just maybe, one more try wouldn’t hurt this time.

note. welcome to isagi mimi debut omg i kinda do not like it but huhu this trope is so hard for me to write, i’m not gonna lie. but i surprisingly had fun making this hehe. and i’m not really a fan of instant love soooo, here’s the best i could do ._. i think i would rather opt to make a sequel than a time skip so let’s leave it at that :>

thanks for reaching this far!

💭 back to: milestone event

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone (Part 1)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x fem!reader, Hopper POV

Summary: Reader is a secretary at the Hawkin's Sheriff's Department and Jim Hopper drives her to and from work everyday. Hopper gets worried when reader does not come out of her home, and when he finds out she is sick, he decides to take care of her. Set before the events of Season One of Stranger Things

Tropes: Jim Hopper x sick reader, mutual pining, angst, fluff, grump x sunshine, age gap (reader is fresh out of college).

Warnings: No Smut, mostly fluff, self-deprecating talk, indecisiveness, maybe some occasional cursing, Hopper is a little OOC, maybe one or two references to sex, but not explicit and only if you squint.

Word Count: 4.8k (I'm so sorry- but not really because it's great)

There is a minimal use of (y/n). Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you."

Internal monologue is in italics.

Honestly this is my first fanfiction ever, it's kinda self-indulgent, I tried to proofread the best I could, but please BE GENTLE. If you don't like, don't read, if you do like it, you're my favorite.

ENJOY!

Main Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

*********************************************************

Hopper's truck idles in your driveway behind the ancient sea-foam green station wagon, and has been idling for the past 10 minutes. He is starting to get worried. You always come out to his car immediately when he pulls in the driveway. Probably, he suspects, because you don’t want to keep him waiting, but what you don’t  know is that he would be willing to wait forever just to see you.

Hopper taps his fingers on the steering wheel while inhaling smoke from the cigarette perched between his lips as worry pricks at his chest.

Where is she? Hopper thinks to himself.

His eyes skate over the windows and peeling white sills  of the modest home looking for signs of forced entry, but the house looks relatively quiet. He can’t decide if that is worse.

All of a sudden a frizzy haired, freckled girl wearing a nurse's uniform comes tearing out of the house with a large colorful bag thrown over her shoulder. She rips open the door of the station wagon in the driveway, but then raises her gaze to glare at Hopper's car, before running to his driver’s side window.

"Hi can you possibly move out of the driveway. I'm so late for my shift-" She declares out of breath while glancing down once at the plain watch on her wrist.

Hopper studies her for a minute things not quite connecting. Marcie.  He decides. You had mentioned your roommate in passing, but this was the first time that he had officially spoken to her or seen her.

"Um- sure. I'm just waiting for y/n-"

"She's not going to work today, she's got a cold." The girl waves her hand dismissively. "Sorry you must be Hopper. I'm Marcie and I'm so late, please." Marcie's eyes widen with her plea.

"Yeah sure." Hopper puts his car in reverse to clear the driveway allowing Marcie to squeal past him. Hopper momentarily smiles at her bravery for whipping out of the driveway so quickly when the chief of police is directly behind her, but then his thoughts turn back to you.

He idles in the street for a second, contemplating the situation.

I should just go to work, I should just drive away and sit at my desk and shuffle papers around- He thinks, but then he reconsiders. What if y/n needs something? Her roommate just left her there, I'm not even sure she locked the door. He raises his gaze once more to skate over the empty windows as if hoping that you will appear.

But when you don’t  Hopper sighs in defeat, pulls into the driveway, and turns off the engine. He pauses again with his hand on the key where it still sits in the ignition. His thumb taps anxiously against the wheel.

You're not her boyfriend, you're her boss. Hopper takes in a lungful of smoke, watching the house once more. But a boss can check on his employees, maybe she hadn't been able to call Flo to tell her she wasn't going to be at work so I should just check in on her, because I’m really helping Flo. Hopper reasons.

He gets out of the car, before pausing with his hand on the door. What are you doing? This is definitely overstepping. The intrusive thoughts are back to prick behind his furrowed eyebrows.

The truth was he has tried to keep his distance, but now he has begun to realize how much he relies on driving you to work everyday. How much he relies on those few moments in the car before he is twisted and pulled away to his office. But then you would be there after, waiting at your desk for him to drive you home. And the look on your face every time was enough to erase the tedium of the day.

Jim eyes the front door to check if you are coming out once more.

He always felt better when you’d  practically skip out of front door wearing those cute oversized sweaters and long skirts, with your hair billowing behind you in perfect curls. You would always smile at him as you walked to the car, before shyly ducking your head with flushed cheeks. And then after the shift, he always made sure that he didn't stay too late because staying late meant that you would have to wait for him. And because you were too embarrassed and polite to tell him that you were ready to leave, you would read at your desk quietly.

As cute as you looked leaning back in your desk chair utterly consumed with whatever the novel of the day is, because Hopper noticed you must be the fastest reader in the world given how many different books he'd seen you with, Hopper hated those days. Hopper hated those days because Callahan would loiter by your desk after his shift and make you laugh so loudly that it made the symphony of your voice drift into Hopper's office, quickly turning something that made his own heart jump and buckle in his chest into a consuming fire.

His hand tightens on the door frame of the car.

He hated watching Callahan ease over to your desk so carefree at the end of the night, taking the time to talk to you, flirt with you even.  Callahan who didn’t have to worry about the age difference or what everyone would say if he went out with you or spent the night with you. Callahan who was younger and carefree, maybe even a perfect match to your sunshine. Jealousy burned through his entire body when he thought of Callahan taking you out to dinner, having his hand in yours as you walk to the movies, sitting side by side in a booth at a restaurant, and even after the date when Callahan would walk you to your door and you would invite him in. His jaw clenches at the thought of you with Callahan alone in your house, your room, your bed-

He thinks about getting back in the car again, turning away, and leaving.

Hopper knew that it wasn't fair. He shouldn't feel jealous, shouldn't feel the need to control your life, because it was your life, and he didn't want to ruin it. He didn't want to intrude. You were so young, so full of life, innocent, that he knew he would ruin you in the worst way. He was just an old grump, so far from your sunshine he might as well be hibernating in a cave.

But oh how he wished he could. Oh how he wished he could bask in your sunshine all the time, letting the soothing rays from your smile fill him with peace.

Hopper lay awake at night thinking of you, wishing that you had met when he was a little younger, a little less- well- Hopper. He dreamed of what it would be like to tell you and have you return the sentiment with one of those smiles that sometimes he imagined were only for him.

Hopper looked back up at the house. The thought that you were alone inside and sick, made him close the door of his car, flick away the cigarette, and tramp through the overgrown lawn. Hopper made a mental note to ask you why it wasn't cut and then tossed it away.

Boundaries mean that I’m not going to come mow her lawn one day.

He knocks once. "(y/n)?" He calls, but hears nothing. "(y/n)?" He says a little louder, knocking a few more times.

Hopper was hesitant to shout. What if you had a headache?

His hand closes on the handle and turns, it is open. He sighs in exasperation. What was Marcie thinking leaving it unlocked? Doesn’t she watch the news? There could be any number of psychos lying in wait, watching the house! Then before he can stop himself he thinks: Yeah. Like you.

The inside of the home is tidy, but lived in. The living room has a collection of threadbare chairs and a patchy colored fabric couch covered in what looked like a handmade blanket. Hopper wonders if you made it, remembering last Christmas when you made a hand-crocheted tote bag for Flo. Because that’s the kind of person you were. You gave so much of yourself out to other people, cared for them, and he believed that he was so different from you.

There’s a coffee table with several rings in front of the couch where he places his hat, tracing the circles on the wood with a fingertip.

The smell of coffee pours from the kitchen and splashes against Hopper’s nose, but he continues down the darkened hallway that leads deeper into your home.

"(Y/n)?" He says again, louder, but there is no answer. "(Y/n)?"

The last thing he wants to do is stumble into your room while you are changing and scare you to death. The thought of seeing you naked causes a pink hue to travel into his cheeks.

A low groan sounds from the hall bathroom and makes Hopper’s chest clench in worry. "(Y/n)?" He turns towards the bathroom. The lights are off inside and the door is just barely cracked. Hopper pushes open the door and flips on the switch to the right against the white tile wall.

At first he's confused, because the low groan sounds again, and then he looks down.

You’re laying under a thick blanket, curled into a small ball, halfway between the toilet and the bathtub. Your cheeks are flushed with fever, eyes closed, breath coming in shallow gasps.

"(Y/n)!" Hopper gasps dropping to his knees. "(Y/n) are you okay?" Worry tightens its cold grip around his throat.

How could your roommate leave you like this?

"Hop?" You breathe, opening up one red eye. "Hey." Your voice is no more than a raspy croak. "What are you doing here?” Each word sounds like its too much effort to finish. In fact you close your eye and shy away from the bright bathroom light that Hopper flipped on when he entered the room.

“I came to pick you up. Marcie said you had a cold.” His eyes skate over you. “The door was unlocked.” Hopper felt the need to add that last part, trying to find rationalization for why he’s here instead of telling you that he came in because he was scared.

“Sorry. She called the office-“ You begin to cough violently into the blanket, curling further into a ball.

"Shh it's okay." His hand comes down to your hair, pushing it back from where it sticks to your skin. "Are you alright?" Your forehead burns against his hand.

"Not really." You croak. "I didn’t mean to fall asleep here, but it was easier than going back and forth."

"It's alright." Hopper gently places his arms under your knees, sweeping you up against his chest in one quick move.

You sigh and turn your head into him, while your hand grips the front of his jacket that is still chilled from the wind outside with a shiver. The cold is welcome against your feverishly hot skin.

You cuddle into his jacket away from the offensive light above, making warmth radiate through Hopper's body.

"Which room?" He asks.

"Across the hall." You mutter into his shirt with another sigh.

Hopper hopes that you can't feel his heart stuttering around in his chest like a bee trying to get out of a plastic cup. He's trying not to think about how natural this feels, how wonderful it feels to hold you close and have you curled up against him. He rationalizes that your fever is probably so high that you don't realize what you’re doing, that any other time you wouldn’t dare burrow into him like this. But he can't help but imagine what it would be like for you to want him to hold you like this.

Your room is tidy, but still a little messy. Hopper smiles at the cluttered desk and stacks of paperbacks, memorizing the titles and making mental notes of those that are more worn than others, promising himself that he'll read every one if they are your favorite.

He is always on the lookout for ways to start conversations with you and Hopper figures that the war themed paperbacks he has back at home are a bit out of your comfort zone given the titles of the books on the desk.

Hopper places you down on the bed, quickly pulling the covers over you. He tries not to notice what you was wearing before, he had only ever seen you in long skirts or long pairs of pants, but now you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh and a pair of bright blue underwear. He ignores it, feeling the warmth of you skin beneath his palm.

"What can I do?" Hopper kneels next to the bed so you doesn’t have to look up at him.

"I'm okay, just sleepy." You whisper, cuddling into the patchwork quilt with another uncontrollable shiver.

"Okay." He brushes your hair back again before he can stop himself, enchanted by the way it feels against his hand. "I'll be right back okay?" Hopper breathes.

"Please don’t go.” You mutter moving into his touch, turning your entire body towards where he hovers just on the edge of your bed.

Hopper freezes. She didn’t mean that, she’s just sick, doesn’t know what she’s saying. He rationalizes eyes skating your figure again. He’s never seen you look so small.

When you were well, sometimes Hopper believed that you were the embodiment of the sun on earth, filled with light and warmth. Noting that your bright personality just exploded out of you constantly, but now seeing you so dim… it scares him.

“I promise I’ll be right back.” Hopper says again.

“Hmm.” You whisper as you begin to succumb to the exhaustion of the fever.

He backs out of the room, watching your sleeping figure one more time before he springs into action. Hopper walks to the bright yellow phone hanging in the wall in the kitchen and dials the station.

"Hey Flo it's the chief, how are things this morning?" He breezes looking through the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator. Hopper frowns at the dismal array of canned vegetables and moldy fruit in the ice box, but pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Hey chief. Pretty slow. Callahan went out on a call to get Mrs. Morris' cat out of a tree, but other than that it's been quiet. I meant to tell you that (y/n's) roommate called and said that (y/n) won't be in because she's not feeling too well this morning. Tried to call you before you left, but I figured I'd see you when you got in." Flo pauses. "Where are you anyway?"

"Um- something came up. Look I might not be in for a few hours. Do you think you can manage to keep things quiet?" He shifts uncomfortably. Hopper wasn't keen on everyone knowing that he was with you.

What would they say if he was here? He was aware of what the rest of the people in town said about him, but he didn't want them to say things like that about you. You deserved better.

"Sure chief."

"Alright thanks. I'll see you in a bit." He hangs up the phone standing in the kitchen for a minute while he finishes the coffee in the faded green mug. Hopper considers what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. The thought of leaving you again makes his heart twist in his chest, especially knowing how sick you are.

Not sick enough to stop smiling at him. The thought is welcome amongst the continuous admonishing from the guilt of him being there.

Hopper walks back towards your room peering in through the open door to check over your sleeping figure. Deep down he knows that he shouldn't be here, that he should just leave, but he can't. He can’t leave you when you can barely lift your head to look at him.

The phone rings on your nightstand, and as you stir, Hopper reaches for the receiver to stop the call and breaks his only rule.

"Hello?"

"Um. Hi. Who is this?" The voice on the other line is definitely a woman, decidedly older.

"Jim Hopper. Who is this?"

"This is (y/n’s) mother.”

Oh shit.

"Um hi Mrs. (y/l/n)-" Hopper's eyes go to yours which have widened in surprise.

But before he can respond any further you reach out and take the phone from Hopper’s hand.

“Hi mom." You croak. "Can I call you back?"

Hopper watches you with wide eyes as you wait a second to listen to your mother. He can only imagine what she's asking you.

 "No mom, he's not my boyfriend he's my boss." Your voice rasps. Hopper's heart stutters once in his chest when you answer her.

"He's here to check on me." You try to raise your voice again, but it comes out more like a harsh whisper.

You pause.

"No I'm not sleeping with my boss mom." Your face flushes as bright red as Hopper's does. He immediately stands from the bed, realizing that he was sitting on the edge and was about to touch you again subconsciously.

"Please can I call you back. I'm really not feeling well." You sigh laying back down as if sitting up is too much work.

Hopper's brows furrow with worry once more, wishing that he hadn't answered the phone. Because even if he was ever going to date you, which he wasn't, he didn't want your mother to hate him.

"Yes I'll make the soup. I love you. Okay. Bye." You hold out the phone trying to place it on the receiver, but Hopper takes it from you. "I'm sorry." You mutter laying back down in the bed with a sigh.

"It's okay." Hopper's still bright red. "I understand."

You sigh. "She's been so worried since I moved away."  You turn to cough into the blanket.

"Try not to talk." Hopper smiles. "You know, I think you talk more when you're sick."

You wheeze out a laugh. "Shut up."

"And you're definitely meaner."

You snort so hard that you begin to cough and Hopper feels bad for making you laugh, but when it's over you smile so wide at him any regret vanishes. That was why he liked you so much, because every time you smiled at him, you filled him with the warmth and brightness that you shone with every day.

He presses the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature. "Are you going to be okay if I leave for a bit?"

"Yeah." Your eyes are closed now, leaning into his hand. Hopper ignores how you lean into him and again tells himself it is only due to your current state.

"I promise I'll be right back."

"You don't have to-" You breathe in a low rasp.

"I'm not going to leave you like this alone." Hopper responds. "I'm just gonna run to the store-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Hopper clears his throat. "Try not to die."

"I'll try my best."

*********************************************************Hopper can remember the last time he made chicken noodle soup clearly. Sara had a cold, it was before she was diagnosed and was starting to get sick more frequently. Hopper had stayed home from work with her while Diane went out and he made the chicken noodle soup recipe his grandmother had used to make him when he was sick.

As he stirs the pot on the stove the smell brings back all the memories that usually make his heart clench in his chest, but now standing here in your small kitchen, the memories are softer.

The trip to the grocery store had been quick as he practically ran up and down the aisles strategically to find everything he needed, anxious to get back to you. Hopper had stolen the house keys out of you purse to make sure that he could lock the door, rationalizing that you wouldn't need them and he'd be damned if he left the door unlocked with you being as defenseless as you were right now.

Hopper walks back towards your room. You are curled up in a ball under the covers again, looking more small and cute that he wants to acknowledge. "(y/n)." He whispers.

"Hmm." You sigh and turn to look at him. Your cheeks aren't as flushed as before, which means the Advil Hopper made you take must have brought down your fever.

"I made you some soup. I think you should eat something." He says gently.

The smile you give him, warms his heart and makes the cold muscle in his chest flutter and stutter.

"You didn't have to."  You croak.

"I wanted to." He shifts his feet unsure. "Do you need help- or- um?" It wasn't that he didn't want to carry you, the memory of how it felt to carry you was fresh in his mind. It was that he wanted to make sure that it was okay for him to touch you again

"Please." Your cheeks flush all over again as he picks you up and carries you out to the kitchen table, sitting you up in a chair before draping the homemade blanket around your shoulders to cover your shivering body. 

He quickly moves to the stove dipping out a portion of soup into one of the flowery bowls from the cabinet before placing it in front of you.

You smile into the steam, letting the heat open up your lungs. "Thank you."

Hopper sits across from you at the kitchen table watching you eat it slowly, another mug full of coffee sitting in front of him on one of the cheerful flower printed placemats. He still can't bring himself to leave because he's worried about what would happen if he left. You could barely walk to the bathroom without help- maybe you might even need to go to the hospital.

The thought of taking you to the hospital filled him with dread, a whole slew of memories there that he didn't want to relive.

"This is really good." You smile at him from across the table. Your voice is less hoarse than it was a few moments ago, but still barely audible. "You didn't have to make soup. I could have ordered some from Sullivan's on the corner."  You cough violently into a napkin before blowing your nose again.

"It's okay. I just wanted to make sure that you were-" He stops unsure if he should continue. "Well if you were okay."

"Oh. Well it's very nice of you. I'm sorry that Marcie didn't call."

"I'm not." Hopper responds before he can stop himself. "I'm glad that I came by." His cheeks flush with his confession.

"I am too." Your cheeks are as red as his before you duck down to look back at your soup. "Though I don't want you to get sick too."

Hopper shrugs. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

He watches you finish up the rest of the soup. She's beautiful even when she's like this. Hopper looks at your face, noting you red cheeks and nose. Even covered in snot and flushed with fever, she's absolutely beautiful.

"Did you want to go back to bed?" Hopper asks when you take the last bite of chicken noodle soup.

"No I think I'll lay on the couch for a bit-"

He immediately moves to pick you up from the wooden chair and helps you over to the threadbare couch, laying the blanket over you before he can focus too much on your uncovered legs. "Thank you."

"Yeah-" His voice has deepened a bit, trying not to dwell on how wonderful it felt to have you in his arms again.

"There should be some tapes in those cabinets.” You gesture to the cabinets under the tv in the corner. “Did you want to stay and watch a movie?” You immediately freeze. You hadn’t meant to ask it, but here he was taking care of you making sure you were okay. You didn’t want him to go, despite his constant internal monologue convincing him otherwise. “Or if you have to go back to work that’s fine.” You back track.

“Um- well.” Hopper considers leaving again. He thinks that he’s overstated his welcome, knows that he is doing more than he should especially more than a boss would do for his employee. His eyes skate over your small figure curled up under the blanket. “I don’t think it would hurt to watch a movie. I think that Flo can manage the department for a few hours without me.”

You try to hide your excitement as he picks out one of the tapes and pops it into the VCR.

Now came the ultimate question: where should he sit? Regularly when Hopper was trying to woo someone he would sit next to them, throw his arm across their shoulders so they would lean into him- but he didn’t want to do that to you… well, he knew he SHOULDN’T want to do that to you. So he forced himself into the lazy boy arm chair that sat about 7 inches from where you were laying your head on the couch as the movie began.  You bunch up one of the couch cushions under you head, trying to prop yourself up as the movie began. Hopper reached over before he could stop himself and helped you adjust the pillow.

Your eyes meet his as a small smile graces your lips. He holds your gaze, trying to gauge how you feel about him- tries to read your mind to see if you wish that he'd just leave, that this is weird and he needs to go.

But there's nothing. He forces himself to look away from your gaze and back towards the tv trying to stop the warm feeling that rises in his chest.

Don't do this to yourself. She's just being nice because you made her soup, asking you to stay means nothing.

Within a few moments you were asleep again and that meant that Hopper didn’t have to feel bad about glancing over at you occasionally. His fingertips itch to push back the hair that's fallen into your face, but instead he puts them on the arms of the chair, relaxing back.

And within moments, Hopper falls asleep.

He wakes up when Marcie kicks open the front door at 8 pm after her shift, practically falling into the living room in her haste. Hopper jumps up from the chair startled.

"Oh hi." Marcie does a double take. "I didn't know you were going to stay here."

"No I wasn't-" Hopper clears his throat awkwardly. "I just-"

"He came to check on me Mar." You croak sitting up. "It's okay."

"Oh well." Marcie eyes him up and down. "I'm just gonna take a shower." Marcie continues to frown. "And I keep my pepper spray in there-"

"Marcie!" You exclaim as loud as you can without hurting your voice, but she doesn't look sorry.

Hopper nods awkwardly as she saunters from the room, his cheeks flushing bright red. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the rhythmic sound of your breathing had lulled him into a deeper sleep than he was accustomed to. In fact he couldn't remember a time recently in which he had slept so soundly.

"Well I guess I should go." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I'm sorry she's just always in a hurry and she doesn't have a filter." You sigh, hearing the shower begin to run. "It takes a bit to get used to her."

Hopper notices that your voice sounds less hoarse than it did when you fell asleep.

"It's okay." He waits another beat, because despite Marcie's sudden intrusion, he wishes that he could stay- but he knows better. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, see if you need a ride to work."

"Yeah I hope I'll feel a bit better." You begin to rise from the couch, but stumble forward and Hopper catches you against his chest in an awkward hug.

"You've got to be more careful." He breathes into the top of your head, holding you tightly against him.

"Hmm." You sigh, holding on to him just as tight. "Thank you Jim."

Hopper freezes. It's the first time you've ever said his first name, and it makes something inside his chest break open. It sounds so perfect coming from your lips that he wishes you would say it again. "You're welcome (y/n)."

Your arms are wrapped around him in a full hug by now, nuzzling your face into his chest- but just like that Hopper snaps out of it.

She doesn't want you, she's just being friendly, like (y/n) is all the time. Plus she's sick today, not thinking straight. The thought makes him sober up.

Hopper extricates your arms from around him rather abruptly, leaving your head reeling, and helps you back onto the couch. "Well goodnight."

"Goodnight." You smile, but it's tight lipped and for good reason. You have no idea what you did to make him suddenly so cold.

And the entire ride home from y/n's house, Hopper refuses to believe you were disappointed when he left.

*********************************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

Part 2

[scara-hater]

making out with al haitham, childe, dottore, capitano, or pantalone? 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯ALSO HAPPY NEW YEARS

Iloveitiloveitiloveit- this is the best request. I’ll make a pt.2 with remaining characters soon!

Characters childe, pantalone, al haitham.

Warnings: childe being horny cuz he’s a loser. Literally making out. My writing.

Not proofread!

——

Needs when alone.

Childe

He's literally a virgin, yeah.

fresh out of his teenage years and throwing himself into harbinger work right after, there’s a lot of pent-up sexual frustration. As well as never having a partner before, his inexperience makes him quite.. desperate.

Both hands grab the sides of your face, he leans in to kiss your lips once.. twice.. then looks to see if he can continue. If yes, then he immediately pushes against you to pathetically satisfy his needs. I'm sorry, but he gets turned on too easy, heavily breathing and blushing just from hearing your voice call out his name

"Ajax." Oh.

He’s whining and trying to have you as much as possible. Hands now focused on your waist, his grip is tight. Lips moving in sync and whimpers emitting from the boy underneath you. You just feel so good against him.

“Did you just-“

"yes, but please, just focus on me, I’ll deal with it myself after this.” He latches onto you once again.

Yeah bro got hard

Pantalone

Please. He'll slide one hand to your face while the other grips your waist. Agonizingly slow hell kiss you, humming as his grasp on your face grows a little tighter.

What he wants is to leave your mind numb, and Pantalone will do all he can to achieve that.

Pulling you for your body to connect with his, he wants you to lose yourself by a simple kiss before you can get anything else. And when he opens his eyes to see your sweet gaze, he can no longer deny what both of you want. With lust filled hunger, he takes your lips once again. This time, fervently. Minimal movement but mouths never leaving each other, he revels in your in your smaller frame begging for more. Your hands wrinkling his shirt as they lay on his chest.

Oh how adorable you are.

Squishing your waist and pulling away, he looks at your jelly like state. Your breathing heavy and your face flushed. He wants all of you, and you gladly give it to him every time.

Al-haitham

Mf does he looks like he’s knows what he’s doing? I don’t think so.

In moments like these, his stoic expression is wiped clean. You’re taking the lead has his hands shakily rest on your hips, his taller frame leaning down as his face is bright red and eyes squeezed shut. Mouths messily moving together as you just arrived home. No matter how many times, this happens, which isn’t a lot, Alhaitham kinda goes stupid. His mind filled with you and your intoxicating lips, my guy is gone. No thoughts.

“Please, may I indulge in your touch more.” Drawing your lower body to his as he grows more needy.

Bottom energy.

[mrs-gucci]

What Happens at the Cabin...

{ werewolf!flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon(s)

Werewolf Flip keeping you locked away in his cabin for when the full Moon hits please 💛

Werewolf Flip in the middle of a serious rut and just needing to use you like rag doll Please and thank you 🐺

just a quick disclaimer, sorry if this sucks lol, I'm writing this half asleep at 11:45 pm and I'm only doing quick proofreading as I go along.

warnings. SMUT (18+), werewolf rut, objectification (treated like a sex doll), dirty talk, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of breath play, creampie, minimal/no aftercare.

word count: 790

🐺 written for werewolf wednesday 🐺

Flip's ruts are always pretty intense, matching his human personality quite well. He's impulsive, passionate, a bit temperamental, but most of all, horny. Oh so horny.

Rays of moonlight shine through the thin curtains hanging in the cabin's master bedroom as Flip's wolf form stands over you, casting a shadow on your bare, bound form. You look into deeply his amber eyes, watching them darken with lust the more they roam your nude form.

It's quite a sight, you're sure, seeing your wrists and ankles each tied to one post of the old metal bed frame, spread out just for his pleasure.

You watch as his length fills out and hardens, the sight making your thighs want to rub together, but alas, they're bound apart. Flip looks down and sees that you're beginning to glisten and your pussy is clenching ever so slightly. The sight alone turns him on even more.

He growls lowly and quickly pounces, getting on top of you and beginning to lick at your neck, hips rolling forward instinctively in order to rub his hard, leaking cock against your abdomen.

"Do you feel what you acting like a little slut does to me?"

You smirk. "What do you mean?"

Flip huffs, nipping gently at your throat.

"You know exactly what you did, wearing your low cut sweater dress at the station on the day of a full moon."

Your smirk widens slightly.

"Maybe I...wanted this to happen."

"Mm, I'm sure you did."

He chuckles breathily, then forces your legs apart a little more, cock nudging against your entrance. You open your mouth to say something but he thrusts in suddenly, abruptly finishing your sentence before it even begins.

"Ohh fuck."

Flip looks down at you. A shiver runs down your spine at his sudden tone of seriousness.

"You will lay perfectly still while I do what I want to you at my discretion. And you'll be nice and quiet as I do so." He thrusts abruptly, harshly. "Y-You'll be my perfect little doll, isn't that right, sweetheart?"

Your mouth falls open and a soft, pathetic-sounding whimper slips from your lips. You somehow manage to nod and he begins fucking you at a quick pace.

His eyes remain on you, watching closely for any slip-ups. You try your best to stay still, you really do, but the more he fucks you, the more your body begins to jerk and squirm with arousal.

Suddenly, one of his paws wraps around your neck and presses down gently, impairing your breathing only slightly, but enough to choke you up for a few moments.

"Quiet," he snarls. "Dolls are m-meant to take cock, not to be heard."

Your eyes roll back in your head, pussy clenching around him. Everything is happening all at once and it's all bringing you to levels of arousal you've never known were possible. Your body tenses and you focus on staying still, wanting to give your beloved a pleasurable experience.

He presses a bit harder on your neck, long enough to make you squirm again, before pulling away completely. You inhale deeply and he grunts softly in satisfaction, then drags his sharp claw gently, slowly down your neck, across your collarbones, tracing the swells of your large breasts to tease your senses.

Then, he suddenly yanks your shirt down and tears your bra, exposing your bare breasts to the cool Colorado night air. His textured tongue begins to lap at your hardened nipples, enjoying how it makes you whimper and whine beneath him

Soon enough, your attempts at staying still and quiet are thrown out the window, and you let out a long moan.

"Christ, Flip..."

He growls, fucking you harder, enjoying the sight of you breaking character and the feeling of your insides tightening around his thick cock.

"Good girl, tighten for me," he grunts. "Make me fill you up."

His words propel you into a sudden, powerful orgasm, and you cry out in pleasure as it washes over in intense waves. Seeing and feeling your orgasm is enough to send Flip hurdling over the edge as well, his bellowing growls and grunts echoing through the small room.

You sigh, biting your lip while Flip continues to jerk his hips, fulfilling his most primal desire to breed you. He gives your breasts a few more licks before moving back up to your neck.

Once he's settled and his orgasm has faded, Flip looks down at you, his eyes returning to their usual beautiful amber color. You smile, knowing that your Flip has returned to you, at least for now.

Your hand smooths across where his cheeks would be. He leans into your touch.

"Better?"

He nods, nuzzling you with his wet nose.

"Much. Thank you."

****

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[yes-i-am-a-tree]

"I thought I was gonna die. " (Platonic!Kenny Ackerman x reader)

Summary: You were to play a part in a plan Kenny and Levi created to break you out of captivity and get away safely. The ironic thing is, you had no idea such a plan existed, so you take your own route, throwing both Kenny and Levi for a loop. Regardless, you prove to them that you can fend for yourself. You also prove that you're a terrible horse rider.

Genre: Angst but gets wholesome at the end. Happy ending.

Also, Platonic Levi x reader but to a minimal amount.

Warnings: bodily injuries, mentions of execution and murder, Kenny being a disappointed father :')

Somewhat proofread 😅 more notes at the bottom 👍

Set in a Western AU!

High noon. Exactly 12 clock was the time your execution was scheduled.

You were framed. Though they had only gotten one thing right out of their accusations against you.

You were Kenny's apprentice. You were 100% along with him every step of the way. Listening to his every order, and obeying his every command. You owed it to him. You can't even count on both hands how many times he's saved your life.

But they were wrong with everything else. The MP claimed you tried to assassinate the king. The Lord of all three walls. It's a wonder everyone believed them because you weren't big or powerful like Levi or Kenny. But they accused you anyway because they knew you were directly associated with Kenny the Ripper.

But apparently, that was in the past because they welcomed him with open arms and left you in the dust.

So you sat and waited. You tried desperately not to think about your doom but it was always on your mind. It ate away at you during the night and it loomed over during the day.

And soon. It was the morning of the last day you'll ever see the sun again. The last day you'll enjoy (not that there was much too in this cramped musty cell)

You tried to savor your last hour before one of the palace guards knocked on the heavy metal bars of your enclosure. It was time to go.

Once you were forced into the palace square it was almost like an open cathedral.

There were crowds among crowds of people. All watching with their beady greedy eyes.

Surprisingly to you though, and you were handcuffed to a pole, no executioner stood nearby. In fact, you found it weird you were chained to a pole in the first place.

You sat in the brutal sun before the crowd grew silent. The king had arrived to watch.

You looked up at him and scowled. He of all people shod know you were not guilty. It was those fucking snobbish Military Police.

Then, a familiar clop of footsteps sounded behind you. 'Of course, he's here, he's basically the head of the MPs at this point.

He then walked his brown leather boots directly in front of your line of sight. You frowned. 2 weeks ago, you would've been overjoyed to see those boots. But now, you just felt betrayed.

On multiple occasions, you hoped and even prayed that he would come and save you. I mean, hell, you had been with him for over a year, did he not care? You gave up that hope a long time ago when you were being transported to the castle prison and you saw his face in the mass of people. You saw him look away. You saw him turn his back on you.

And now he was here to mock you.

Suddenly he squatted and grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him. Kenny's signature smirk was condescending.

"Don't you know how to show your owner some respect?"

You could hear a couple of guards snicker. You grimaced.

He seemed to grin wider at your reaction.

"What, you don't wanna talk to me? " Kenny asked teasingly.

You just glared. You regretted the last year of your life. Everything just went wrong from there. And now, you were about to die. Alone. Disrespected. And innocent.

Then, He slapped you across the face. Albeit, it was softer than any of the beats he had given you before, nonetheless, it still hurt like hell. You bit back a couple of cuss words.

You truly hated him.

"Sorry sweetheart, I have to teach you a lesson for trying to touch the King"

As he said this he stroked your face where he slapped you like he was trying to soothe you. That just added fuel to the growing fire of hatred inside. You closed your eyes to conceal your tears. He was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.

If only you had kept them open because it was obvious, while you were up that close, that he regretted hitting you. He hated doing it every time. But now was not the moment to feel sympathy.

He took ahold of your dirty hair and slammed your head against the pole behind you. It was like a shock, the vibrations rolling through your skull and the pain and ache that continued endlessly.

You couldn't help the sound of your pain that left your mouth.

Kenny kept his facade. "Don't act so fearless now, you know what's in store for you."

He back-talked you for about 5 more minutes and gave you a couple more mild hits before a loud noise erupted from the large front doors of the cathedral. A gunshot.

Suddenly there was screaming from the outside. Everyone spectating turned their attention to the doors of the cathedral.

And without warning the doors busted open. And out through the doors came someone on horseback. He had a dark hood on and you couldn't make out any of his features.

It was like a dream like some unexplainable thing just occurred. What in the world was happening? Why would anyone want to interrupt your execution?

Before you could think about the rapidly approaching horseman any further you heard the double doors behind you open as well.

You strained your neck to see. The king's guards came pouring out of them, one after the other. All suited up in armor and all horseback.

But to your astonishment, the hooded horse rider fearlessly steered in the other direction towards them.

You tried to watch their scrimmage but you felt Kenny suddenly grab your face.

"Listen to me, I'm gonna untie you and you're gonna follow after me. Got it? "

Without thinking you nodded immediately. So he quickly got to work on your bindings.

But as he hastily cut the rope off, a fleeting thought took a hold of you.

Did you want to be saved by Kenny? The man who betrayed you? Part of you would instead still be executed than go with him. You didn't want to go back to being his little obedient assistant. You could live on your own right?

Then Kenny leaned back up, finished with your rope, and instead of paying attention

to what he was saying, you noticed a stray horse galloping behind him and suddenly, it became a lot more interesting than whatever he was ordering you to do. 'I can get out myself' you thought. 'I don't need his help anymore, he was going to let me die anyway.’

As you pulled your arms off just to make sure, you put your plan into action. You quickly threw your head back, and headbutted Kenny as hard as you could.

In reality, it wasn't too hard, but the surprise most definitely made up for it. Kenny sat utterly dumbfounded for a second as you took off in the direction you last saw the horse.

"Y/N! " you heard him roar.

A part of you wanted to stop and curl up in fear but the majority of you sped up.

This was unreal, unheard of. The minute you reached the light brown horse you took a hold of her reigns and wasted no time mounting her.

She hiccupped in her movements and made a move to shake you off but obeyed when you yanked suddenly on the reigns.

The whole time this occurred you heard Kenney's yells.

In your mind, you found it funny. It was about time he stopped treating you like some dog.

You sped around the cathedral before racing towards the exit.

The crowd was loud, the guards were loud and the noise drowned out as you steamrolled your way through. You didn't even look back.

The way forward was not clear. After the double door was passed through, the people in the streets screamed in fear for the stallion bounding in their direction.

The wind zipped past your hair, and for once in your life, you felt on top of the world. You were unbeatable, untouchable, immortal.

You zoomed past shops and police, they were too stunned to stop you. You heard a faint cackling and realized it was coming from you. For some time, you felt like you could feel this way forever, free, happy... Like it could never end.

In your haste and carelessness, you failed to notice the cart in front of you until it was too late.

In your spilt second to reflexes, you steered the horse in an extremely harsh right, and it worked for a moment until you realized you were going to crash headfirst into a tree.

You yanked on the reigns once again, but the inertia flung you out of the saddle and out over the horse.

Unfortunately for you, out past the tree you were trying to avoid, laid out a deep River bank. What was supposed to be a short fall off your horse for a moment, ended up being a 4-second tumble down the rocky side of a river bank.

On your way down, the harsh ridged rocks dug into your skin and did little to hinder your fall. Your limbs got caught on small trees and the pain... The pain was immeasurable.

You hit the water with a splash and promptly passed out.

...

Kenny was pissed.

Beyond pissed.

Honestly, he was so angry it surprised him but he didn't dwell on it for too long.

He and Levi had a near perfectly fine plan, but then you had to fuck it all up with that dumbass little stunt you pulled.

Really, what the fuck were you even thinking? Now he has to go out and look for your dumbass. Any sympathy he felt for hitting you earlier felt completely justified in his eyes now.

I mean, why the fuck didn't you just listen to him? He was helping you for God's sake!??

He forced his way through the same crowds you did with his horse. Looking for any sign of your path.

After a minute of riding, through a gap in the road, Levi caught up and rode alongside him. Levi had changed out of his disguise and was looking for you too.

The more they continued through the town without any clues to your wear about, the angrier Kenny became. He was so fed up. He thought that he might actually kill you when he found you.

But as they drove up the road, there was a crowd in the way.

They slowed down but as they got closer, to their dismay, the crowd wasn’t about Y/N. It seemed like they were trying to calm down a horse.

Kenny huffed in annoyance and tried to force his way through but Levi called out to him.

"Kenny wait,” Levi ordered.

"What!? " Kenny asked exasperatedly.

"Shut up and look at the horse."

Kenny stopped at took a good look at the horse. It was light brown... And for a moment he wondered why he should even care but it finally hit him. The horse you left on looked exactly like it.

He and Levi looked around frantically. You couldn't have gone too far, he's sure they didn't feed you well.

Then, he spotted the cart. It seemed out of place from the start but it was quite literally just sitting in the middle of the road.

Moving around the crowd, with Levi following him, he rode up to the cart and dismounted.

Levi got off his horse questioningly and took both reigns and proceeded to tie them to a nearby tree.

Kenny continued to look around. "I think she's around here somewhere, I'm sure that cart tripped her up."

Levi gave no sign of agreement and instead took a look around as well. In truth, he was annoyed too but understood why you would do this in the first place. Kenny never had a good reputation for being genuine or communicative.

But overall, a part of him was worried, both before this and right now. He never thought he'd think this but he didn't want you to die, and right now, you were seriously in danger.

They continued to scout out the area, around the trees and nearby shops, until, while pushing back some bushes, Levi saw the stream. It was a large river bank with rushing water, and there was a steep decline of rocks and trees to it.

"Kenny! " Levi yelled and moved to carefully start his descent to the water.

As he stepped down the more stable rocks, he noticed that some seemed loose, like they had been moved, and there were spots where there were depressions in the ground where a rock used to be.

Soon enough, Kenny came rushing to the bank as well. Immediately taking after Levi (albeit hastily and less carefully)

It took them some time to reach the bottom, but on the way they saw broken trees and... Blood. Blood coated the smooth rocks and twigs left abandoned by the side of the bank. They grew more perturbed.

Once they reached the bottom Kenny immediately looked around the sides of the water. No signs of you, just undisturbed sand.

"She must have gotten carried away by the river!" Kenny yelled over the rushing water.

He and Levi jogged downstream (The decline into the back was too steep for their horses). It was a large basin of water, all flowing and crashing into large rocks down the slope. Further ahead laid a small waterfall, which didn't leave a good feeling in Kenny’s stomach.

They clambered down the sides and continued looking for you. So far down the stream, there was nothing, but it was their only hope in finding your wear abouts.

When Kenny looked ahead, the stream reached somewhat of a turn, or it was more like a couple of large boulders broke the stream into veins, and the largest ran down to the right and out of view.

The other smaller streams kept riding on, out into different directions but what caught his attention was the odd brown object protruding from between some of the rocks.

Without hesitation, he wadded through the strong current towards it. Levi followed doubtlessly, though, he hesitated because he didn't want to get his boots or pants muddy.

Once Kenny eventually reached the other side, he could see what the strange object was.

There, abandoned on the shore was a stray boot. He knelt, picked it up, and studied it.

It was the left boot and when he thought about it, it was suddenly familiar. He took it in his hands and stood up. There were no footprints, or bootprints, just plain sand.

"YN! " he called out. He looked around desperately. "YN!! "

Levi had already strode ahead, taking note of the boot, he walked forward checking behind large boulders. As he progressed forward, he finally spotted what they were looking for.

A body crumpled up along with the rocks. From what he could see, there was a substantial amount of blood.

"Kenny! " Levi called again as he speed walked towards your unconscious form.

Without missing a beat Kenny took off to where he heard Levi. He kept his pace until he spotted you as well, increasing in speed to get to you faster.

He couldn’t will himself to call out to you again, too afraid of the silence that might follow. You can't die. It isn't possible, he doesn't have time for it.

You were in worse shape than he thought. Of course, Levi reached you first, but from what he could see, your left calf was twisted beyond its normal capabilities. There was blood across your stomach and he could see large scratches and the beginnings of bruises started to form on your skin.

Your clothes were tattered and soaked, whatever skin was showing looked damaged in some way or another. Kenny leaned down and watched Levi hurriedly check your pulse. Even Levi looked concerned... or even scared.

Kenny watched as Levi’s face turned from anxious back to his normal scowl.

“Well, is she alive or dead?!” Kenny half yelled out of nervousness.

“She’s alive,” Levi stated in monotone, “But she’s probably broken some bones and we’ll have to carry her back.”

Kenny grumbled but felt a rush of peace. He didn’t want to admit it but he was tense the whole time before Levi said that.

“Well, let’s get a move on, I’m sick and tired of this shit.” Kenny spat. He sat the boot down and squatted to find a way to pick you up. But as his hands breached under your back and knees, you abruptly started coughing and heaving. It was a thick and heaving cough, and every time you did was excruciating.

“Finally awake huh?” Kenny taunted through gritted teeth, “Have a nice trip?”

You were too disoriented to comprehend what Kenny was saying. You groaned because of the pain and let your eyes adjust. The noise of the water and Kenny’s loud ass voice overwhelmed you.

“What…” You croaked. “Kenny?”

“Yeah it’s me, Princess,” Kenny said sarcastically, “I’m here to save your dumbass.”

“What’s going on?” You asked no one in particular. Your eyes finally adjusted and you could make out Kenny and Levi looking down at you. Levi looked more or less normal but Kenny… well, let’s just say Kenny didn’t look pleased.

“You tell me. We had a plan but it seems like you had other ideas.” he bitched.

“I,” you thought about it but found your brain was having a hard time thinking. “I didn’t know” you muttered dumbly.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Kenny said angrily, “You’re in a butt load of trouble for this little stunt you pulled, first you fuckin’ headbutt me, then you run off and now you’ve troubled both me and Levi by having to walk all the way down here to get you. I haven't even mentioned the stuff we're gonna have to do to get you back and fixed.”

You felt embarrassed, to say the least. If your face wasn’t already burning from the blood rushing to it from the pain, it sure was now. “I thought that- I thought-”

“Well you thought fuckin’ wrong, that’s what you fucking did, you screwed it all up,” Kenny cursed.

Levi had already stood up when you weren’t paying attention, but his voice suddenly made his presence known. He wasn’t one to get into his uncle's affairs, you were Kenny's little brat and had little relation to him, but this was getting to be too much.

“Can we do this shit some other time, Kenny?” Levi spoke with an annoyed tone.

“No! No, I have shit to say to this little fucker.” Kenny barked at him while staring at you.

Kenny then reached down and grabbed at your shirt, hauling you up and causing you to huff. Your legs strained and the ankle, which was numb before, suddenly felt very noticeable and painful. You whimpered and hissed.

“When I fucking tell you to do something, you’re supposed to Fucking Do It!” Kenny hissed while jabbing at you, “Don’t fucken ignore me. Don’t do the opposite. And Don’t Fucking Hit me you little-”

He stopped momentarily when he saw the tears running down your cheeks. “Oh, don’t you think for a second those crocodile tears are gonna’ make me forget this mess sweetheart. You fucked this shit up, and now you’re gonna pay for it.”

Levi cursed and anxiously shuffled on his feet, “Kenny, lets just fucking go, our horses are still-”

“Shut Up! I’m not done!” Kenny ordered, “What were you even thinking huh? Do you want this to happen? Did you think you were gonna do something? Did you think this was gonna change anything? Huh?” Kenny shook you with every question, unaware of the pain this was causing you.

Some more tears fell down your face. You kept grimacing.

After you didn’t answer because of the pain, Kenny continued. “Some shit like this happens every single time! Should I have just left you there? Maybe I should've because now I have to deal with your bullshit again. Do you want me to bring you back!?”

“Kenny, I thought I was gonna die” you sobbed.

Kenny stopped at stared at you. Since you said it through tears and hiccups it took a moment to understand you. “You thought you were gonna die?” He questioned condescendingly.

It took a second for you to answer, because of the hiccups and gasping. “I thought- that you had left me for good. You just left me to die- I thought I was gonna die.”

He stayed silent for a moment. Huffing through his nose and staring at your pain-stricken face, trying to understand exactly what you meant.

“It was when- When” You gasped. “When you turned away from me when they took me away. You turned away and left me.”

Kenny stared at you with a confused expression, but then sighed and looked down when he realized where the misunderstanding happened.

Kenny’s voice was much softer now as if explaining to a toddler he spoke, “Y/N I did that so that the MP didn’t think it was a setup. You know that I have to act so that they didn’t suspect anything.”

“No- No I didn’t because I had no clue you were with the MP. You just-” You huffed once more, “You just left me and I had to stay there with- with no food and in fear because- because I was gonna die. I thought I was gonna die for sure.” You whimpered and sputtered. “And- And you’re really h-hurting me.” You added pitifully.

Kenny hesitated, as if somewhat surprised that he was causing you physical pain, before calmly setting you back down.

He waited for a moment over you, mulling over his actions and the miscommunication that had accrued.

“Let’s go,” Kenny decided, “Levi, help me.”

Levi returned to your side hastily, happy this argument was finally over, and supported your body as Kenny carefully pulled you up and held your bridal style. As he adjusted you, you continued to groan and hiss. Your arm rose to grab onto something because of anxiety since you couldn’t remember the last time you were picked up.

Your hand grasped onto the back of Kenny’s collar and your head rested near Kenny’s shoulder. You continued to huff involuntarily.

Levi grabbed your left boot and they began to walk, without the urgency they had before, up the river. Every step Kenny took left a sting in your leg since it moved with the inertia of his movement but you keep silent.

You closed your eyes and tried to fight the shame and embarrassment that was overcoming you. ‘Another time I fuck it all up, Kenny is right, I really am just a burden.’ Your conscious tormented. ‘Every time I’m around something bad happens. They really should’ve just left me to die.’

“Kenny…” You started hesitantly, “I’m really sorry”

You heard no response and it left you feeling incredibly stupid. ‘What was an apology gonna do? Fix things?’ But something distracted you from thinking this way for too long because you noticed Kenny’s heartbeat had increased substantially.

“Just… don’t you ever do that again,” Kenny said softly while stepping over a particularly large rock. Causing you to wince.

“I won't..” You muttered.

He took this as an invitation to continue talking. “You gave me quite a fright ya know? All I know is that you’re gone and you’ve lost a lot of blood. And then we finally find you and you’re unconscious… heh, you said you were scared you were gonna die, well I was scared shitless that you actually were.” He admitted with a weak smile.

After a moment with no response, he suddenly felt a deep despairing pit form in his gut and he quickly looked down at you.

“Levi, she’s not responding.” He spoke with urgency.

“She’s just sleeping” Levi answered calmly, “She lost a lot of blood.”

Kenny tutted with embarrassment. Nodding as if he already knew that.

“Jesus kid, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.” He spoke under his breath.

★ I know I haven't posted in like, 2 years but im a one hit wonder except my hits aren't wonders they're mistakes.

Also, this is NOT lore accurate at all 😅 I can't even remember theast time I've seen at I just randomly remembered my liking towards Kenny and felt the need to write it.

And actually, if you can't tell, I wrote this on the course of 2 years, some of the beginning is low quality but the end is recent so if it sounds different halfway through apologies.

Also, I wish I could recall the name and uthor but this is a little bit inspired by their Kenny x reader fics where it's in a western AU. I just loved it so much that now whenever I imagine Kenny it's when he's some wanted outlaw in the Wild West.

‼️I have a part 2 if anyone is interested. I'll probably post it anyway if this gets attention 👍

[wooahaes]

sweet night [pt.8]

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k~

warnings: mingyu dates. mostly just skinship and fluff! minimal proofreading again sowwy.

daisy’s notes: :)

summary:  As the adopted daughter of the Kim family and current heir to the company, you have it all. An arranged marriage with your soon-to-be fiance who you truly fell in love with, respect from your workers for being good at your job, a good relationship with both your family and your good friends… What more could you want out of life? And yet all it takes is one night for everything to fall down, and one man to help pick up the pieces.  

< previous part || masterlist || next part >

I’m sorry for calling you last night.

You don’t have to reply. I drank too much when I was with Vernon and didn’t think...

I’m sorry for bothering you. Please forgive me. I won’t contact you anymore. Stay safe.

The three texts had greeted you when you woke up that next morning, and you’d reread them too many times for one morning. Truthfully, you weren’t angry at Seungkwan for doing something dumb while drunk. He had the habit of calling up friends when drunk and gushing to them about different things, or becoming more affectionate once intoxicated (you remembered days where he’d be sneaking you kisses on the cheek before giggling about how much he loved you--and then how much he loved his friends, always gushing about something Seokmin said or did). You didn’t have a plan to reply to him at all. All of his texts to you had gone unanswered so far. The ones from that night, the one he sent you the day after you moved out that merely wished you well, and then these... Why change things now? You weren’t even sure what you’d say at this point. If you texted him back, that might give him hope. You weren’t sure you wanted to give him that door to walk through in order to be in your life again.

So instead you sighed, pulling yourself out of bed. You’d woken up too early to leave for work, but you couldn’t hear Mingyu in the other room. That settled it: you’d make breakfast this morning. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it since moving in, but Mingyu always liked cooking. Plus, he always seemed to wake up before you to stake his claim at preparing meals. You almost wanted to call him out for not sharing duties with you--but you knew what he’d say. He’d make something up about how you did laundry, and that this was how you’d be treated when you were his wife: he’d cook for you any day of the week just to ensure that you were happy and well-fed. There was nothing wrong, in his mind, with spoiling you a little.

As quietly as you could, in order to let Mingyu sleep peacefully until his alarm went off, you started preparing things. If anything, you’d tell him that this was your way of thanking him for dinner and the picnic last night. All the two of you did was talk for a while, as friends and fake lovers, while finding comfort in one another’s company. Like lovers do, you thought. Even though Mingyu was merely your best friend, the thought made you smile. You carefully cracked eggs into a bowl and began working.

Yet apparently you weren’t quiet enough. The sound of Mingyu’s bedroom door opening caught your attention, and out trudged the man himself. He was still dressed in a t-shirt he must have lazily pulled on and a pair of sweatpants. Slowly, he made his way over to you, still half-asleep as he lazily wrapped himself around you and held you close.

You cracked a smile. Affectionate Mingyu was always welcome. “Good morning.”

He snuggled in a little closer. “Good morning,” he mumbled. “Thank you for cooking this morning.”

Mingyu always thanked you for cooking. You made it a habit of making sure you thanked him as well. He stayed where he was a little longer, slowly waking up to the smell of breakfast wafting through the air. He planted a small peck on the top of your head, mumbling something about how he’d made tea for the both of you this morning. Life felt cozier as you and Mingyu moved about the kitchen, even when he nearly bumped into you two or three times. He’d always steady you with a soft apology, gaze settling on your face for a moment before he’d tear it away and go back to making tea.

Soon enough, the two of you sat down for breakfast together. You noticed that he was already wearing his ring again--and that made you notice that you’d fallen asleep with yours still on. You pushed the thought away. It would be easier to sleep wearing it than risk forgetting it one day. Mingyu thanked you again for breakfast in a quiet voice, and you smiled over your cup of tea. Seeing that handsome face every morning... You were a little more okay with it. At least it was Mingyu. You were sure you could make it through everything if you had Mingyu by your side.

Work went normally that day. No one commented on your ring, although that was to be expected. But you had your suspicions that people were connecting the dots if Chan hadn’t said something. Minghao had noticed it--from the way his gaze flickered from your ring to your face, brows furrowing together slightly as he clearly wanted to address it. Yet he left the topic where it belonged: unaddressed, because you were his boss. If you wanted to bring it up, Minghao was sure you would because you were closer with him and a few others than your other workers--but he’d never bring it up. He respected you, after all.

It was later that Chan brought you a cup of tea, debriefing you on the progress of a project that you realized it tasted... off. You weren’t picky about the way you liked your tea, sure, but you did have your preferences. Chan paused, noticing the look on your face.

“I put too much sugar again, didn’t I?”

Your favorite blend was a bit strong and a little more bitter than what some people would like. You liked it better when it was sweetened a little--either by sugar or by honey. You’d drink this cup as it was, because you weren’t picky, but you could hardly fault Chan for being unable to get it completely right.

“It’s okay,” you said, setting the cup back down. “Seungkwan could never get it right.”

Chan had lightly chuckled, a little awkward and tense. “I bet Mingyu struggles with it, too,” he said--just in jest--but it made you realize that you’d never had to correct Mingyu when he made your tea in the mornings.

You lied instead and said he was determined to get it right sometime, and that was another thing you liked about him. Just to make it seem a little more real and not like you were living a fairy tale. You texted Mingyu the moment Chan left, asking when you could call him for a moment. Soon enough, you had him on speaker as you continued to work idly.

“Chan messed up my tea again,” you said, purposefully keeping your voice quieter in case Chan happened to be listening in.

“Ah, really?” You could hear Mingyu typing on the other end. “I guess it is a little specific.”

One and a half teaspoons. Less meant it wouldn’t be sweet enough to soften the bitter edge, more made it too sweet and ruined the good parts of the blend by overpowering the flavors.

“You don’t seem to struggle with it,” you said, pausing in your work. Mingyu wouldn’t be able to see you, but you could hear the way he faltered in typing for a moment.

He spoke up a moment later, “Oh. I don’t?” He laughed it off softly. “I guess I’m just lucky.”

I lived with Seungkwan for years and he could never get it right on the first try, you wanted to say. He’d always put too little and then adjust from there for me. Why do you know? Why do you get it right every time?

“I suppose,” you hummed. “Sorry for bothering you--”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “Do you have plans after work?”

“No?”

“Good.” You could hear the way he was smiling. “I’ll pick you up.”

Mingyu stayed true to his word, picking you up. When you asked him where he was taking you, he’d stalled on answering for a little too long. At first, he’d asked if you trusted him. You did--you always knew you could trust Mingyu--but that didn’t answer your question. He waited until the two of you were stopped at a light to look over.

“I was thinking about your list...”

Oh no.

“And there’s this movie theater that’s showing classic movies,” he said. “If you don’t want to go, just say the word--”

“I want to go,” you said. “I just... I didn’t expect it this soon.”

“It’s not our first date,” he reminded you with this confident smile. As if he knew what you’d say. Maybe he simply knew you that well, almost as well as you knew yourself. “Do you want to go home?”

You shook your head. Movie popcorn and a nice night with Mingyu sounded nice. Even though you had wanted to go out like this with Seungkwan, you’d been happy with the cozy movie nights the two of you had shared together. There was something so... casual about being able to go out to a nice theater like this. Mingyu’s hand found your own as the two of you made your way down the sidewalk to the theater, and you admired how committed to this he was. He felt like a real boyfriend. He even let you pick the movie, giving you this stupidly cheesy smile that anyone would confuse for that of a man in love. Maybe you’d talk to him about it later. He didn’t have to sell it so hard, after all.

(Although the woman selling concessions did end up confusing the two of you for a married couple based on how well the two of you knew one another... You felt a little okay with it. It was inevitable, after all. Yet the smug look on Mingyu’s face as he said he hadn’t married you yet was enough to make your face go warm at the thought.)

Mingyu, if nothing else, was a man who committed himself to these kinds of things. He let you cozy up closer to him, head resting on his shoulder as the two of you enjoyed your movie night together. To make matters worse (or better--you’d decide which when your mind was clearer), he’d keep pressing pieces of popcorn against your lips with this knowing smile that he was being insufferable in the best (worst?) way. If anyone else saw the two of you, they’d think you were lovers and not best friends trying to make the best of a difficult situation.

You’d taken his hand when you left the theater. “We’re doing something you like next.”

He smiled at that. “I don’t mind waiting--”

“We already did the picnic date and the movie date,” you pouted. “It’s your turn to do something you want to do.”

Mingyu’s hand was warm in your own. “We could go hiking,” he said. “I’ll bring my camera.”

Two days later, you confronted Mingyu after work and told him to get dressed. You’d spent the prior day researching pretty trails for the two of you to go on, and Mingyu (smiling at you almost in this loving way) merely agreed. The two of you could stop somewhere and get dinner afterward. You didn’t want to miss the sunset. It wasn’t so much of a hiking trail as much as it was a walking trail (you’d take Mingyu hiking another day, maybe on the weekend when the two of you could commit to it), but the point of this was photography. You had stuck snacks and water into your bag and insisted on shouldering it--Mingyu had enough to carry with his camera bag.

“I’ve come here before,” he happened to mention offhand. “Wonwoo and I wanted to take pictures. There’s actually a lot of pretty spots here.”

“There are?” You’d read that before, but you weren’t sure how true those were when some people neglected to leave pictures.

Mingyu was a step ahead of you, more-so as a way of making sure the trail was fine. It was well-kept as far as you were aware. He paused for a moment, reaching back, “here--I think it gets a little rough ahead.”

(Yet Mingyu didn’t let go of your hand afterward.)

Mingyu had stopped when you did, looking at a small patch of flowers. “Did you want to learn?” He had already begun to open up his camera case, ready to start putting things together. “I can teach you.”

You knew how expensive his equipment was. “Are you sure?”

“I’m right here,” he said. He’d been connecting the camera straps to it, just to ensure an extra layer of safety. Mingyu carefully laid the strap around your neck, one hand underneath his camera as it pressed against your chest. “You’ll want to hold it with both hands,” he said, “just to help support it.”

You nodded, carefully lifting it. Mingyu stepped behind you, drawing your elbows back so that they stayed closer to you.

“Here,” he said, hands resting at your shoulders. Mingyu took a step back, carefully guiding you with him before lightly pushing for you to crouch down. “You were too close to them. Unless you wanted a picture of them up close...?”

He’d been right--the step back was what you needed to take a better picture of all the flowers. Maybe you’d take a closer shot, but you wanted to capture as many of them as you could. Mingyu crouched next to you, carefully guiding you through the process. To look down the viewfinder and straighten your shot, to take a deep breath and hold it when you finally snapped the picture (and to wait an extra moment, just to ensure that the picture came out nicely. He’d started talking about shutter speed and aperture, although most of that had gone over your head considering how close to you he was.

He’d taken the camera long enough to look at the image you’d taken. “I think you’re a natural,” he cracked a smile. “There’s a nice focal point in the shot... although I think you could have zoomed in a little more to fill the frame better.”

Still, you were glowing with pride at his compliments. “I learn from the best.”

Mingyu chuckled lightly at your comment, thanking you as he guided you back to where you were standing again. All he told you was to be careful with his camera as he took your hand again, guiding you further up the trail. Every time you saw something, he encouraged you to take a picture--using what he’d already taught you. Maybe one day he’d teach you more, but you had some basic things under your belt now.

Farther along the trail, toward the apex, Mingyu took his camera back from you. It was amazing how in his element he was when he carefully decided to take his shots, making adjustments with ease. He’d show you a few of them when you asked, saying that he preferred taking pictures of people--but nature was nice, too. Maybe one day he’d take you out into the city and do professional shots of you, free of charge. Just to make you feel special.

The sun had begun to set soon enough, and you drifted away from Mingyu’s side to look at the way it sank behind the buildings of Seoul. The golden rays stretched toward you from between them in one last attempt to provide warmth. Mingyu had stayed back, watching the way you admired the world around you with a soft smile. Without thinking, Mingyu lifted his camera, carefully framing you as perfectly as he could. He took a breath, focused the camera, and clicked. The world was the backdrop to you, radiant and kissed by the sun as it illuminated you in gold, and Mingyu was honored to be the one who caught this moment.

And at that moment, Kim Mingyu was jealous of the sun for just a moment. But when you turned back to face him, waving him over as he began to pack his camera back up, he thought the sun should be jealous of him. At least he was the one who got to see you every day and night.

That Sunday, Mingyu went with you to Lotte World in order to go ice skating. There was a year-round skating rink and Mingyu was interested in trying it with you. The two of you had bought your own skates after being advised to do so--the rentals wouldn’t provide enough ankle support, and the dull blades of a rental would be awful--and the two of you were sure you’d return to it a few more times. You and Mingyu had promised each other that new skates wouldn’t be a pointless investment.

“You can hold my hand the entire time,” he said to you while you were lacing your pair up extra tight. “I won’t let you fall.”

You’d smiled. If either of you was going to fall, it’d be Mingyu, but you appreciated his attempt at being romantic. “I’ll drive you to the hospital later,” you teased.

He had called after you when you left him to take your first steps onto the ice, one hand on the edge as you found your balance. You’d gone ice skating with Kibum a few times last winter, just to try it since Seungkwan insisted he’d be too clumsy for it (but he’d taken videos for you anyhow, happy to support you from the sidelines), and you’d managed better than he had. You kept your knees bent, watching Mingyu on the other side as he came to join you. You offered out one hand, still gripping the wall as he took it to step onto the ice.

“I’ll be fine,” he said to you.

And then immediately proceeded to wobble as he tried to grow closer to you, and you very quickly realized that tall buff man translated to also man who is heavy as you fought to keep him upright. He grabbed onto the wall, staring at you as you fought back the urge to laugh.

“Don’t--”

You cracked a smile, immediately turning away.

“Don’t laugh!” He said, louder this time. “You can’t laugh! You nearly fell, too!”

“I did not,” you smacked his arm lightly, “I’m upright.”

“Let go of the wall.”

You merely smiled, slowly letting go of it after a moment. You didn’t wobble as you were remembering the tips you and Kibum had been given. Bend your knees, learn to fall correctly (on your butt or on your side--not on your hands), and to push off to the side when you want to go forward. Mingyu pouted at the way you seemed to stay there, as if you were taunting him.

“I thought you said you don’t have hobbies.”

“I don’t,” you said. “I tried ice skating with my brother a few times. Bend your knees more.”

Mingyu pulled himself closer to the wall, “I’m going to stay here for a minute,” he said, although you’d noticed he’d bent his knees after a moment. “You can have fun. I’ll watch.”

You rolled your eyes before carefully turning and pushing off. Getting your bearings on the ice was hard, but those few times with Kibum were starting to come back to you. He’d been better at it than you had been, but there was something comforting about having your brother there to have your back when you tried something like ice skating for the first time. He went with you a few times, and then promised that the two of you could go ahead (maybe he’d bring along Minho next time--he’d probably enjoy the competitiveness of racing with Kibum more than you would), and then... it just never happened. Kibum went on a trip out of the country for work, and you were too busy to go again.

You wavered a little on the ice as you made your way around the rink in a slow circle, careful to avoid other people. You’d almost fallen twice, too, but managed to regain your balance and continue back to where Mingyu was waiting for you. You offered a hand out to him.

“Now will you try?”

Mingyu glanced from your open hand up to your face, finally smiling back at you as he took your hand. He hesitated to let go of the wall for a moment, but put his trust in you. With your gentle instruction, Mingyu pushed off, slowly skating forward as he held onto your hand tightly. Despite the fact that you seemed to do fine with ice skating, you realized soon that you didn’t truly care for it. You enjoyed having Mingyu there with you, yes, but the ice skating itself wasn’t what you enjoyed.

Maybe that was what you liked more than the hobbies themselves: the company that all of these dates were bringing you.

Mingyu stood across from you that next night, dressed in looser clothing that you’d always associated with exercise. He’d told you to dress similarly, and now he was standing there with one of those stupid confident smiles on his stupid handsome face as he held a soccer ball underneath his arm. He’d told you plenty of times that he used to be on the soccer team when he was in school, and that he’d happily teach you whenever you wanted to know.

You didn’t want to know. You had told him this was going to end in disaster.

Despite what you knew of Mingyu, he was careful in instructing you. It wasn’t his aim for you to get hurt during all of this--all he wanted to do was teach you a few of the things he knew. He got to impart his knowledge onto you, you got to try something new out. It was special in its own way, even if others would see it as a weird date.

Mingyu had started talking you through the basics of soccer--passing the ball, the best part of your foot to use to kick the ball--while you stood by idly and listened. It was clear that this was something he had enjoyed playing (and, apparently, something he still enjoyed--he vaguely mentioned playing a game for fun with some friends a few weeks ago).

“You should meet Minho,” you told him at one point, passing the ball back to him. Passing was... easier, in your opinion. You knew that Mingyu would likely turn this into making you try to score goals against him. “He’s competitive and sporty.”

His eyes lit up as he blocked the ball from going past him, passing it back to you with ease. “Isn’t he friends with your brother?”

You’d always argue that the bond between Minho and Kibum was more “old married couple” than “close friends,” but you nodded nonetheless. “I’ll introduce you sometimes. Maybe we can get dinner with him and Kibum.”

“Introducing me to your family?” Mingyu had smiled at you. “Aren’t we moving a little fast?”

You kicked the ball a little harder toward him, face growing warm. “We’re going to get married, you dummy!”

Sometimes you hated that handsome smile. Most people would melt over it. You only felt a tinge of annoyance. How could your future husband treat you like this as if he wouldn’t be proposing to you soon? As if he hadn’t already met your parents and Kibum before during one of their parties? Or maybe it was the Choi Minho of it all. Mingyu knew that you cared about Minho (nuisance that he was to you and your brother--more him than you, though), and that introducing him to Minho meant something more... especially since it’d torment your brother a little to know that you held Minho in high regard like that. They were close friends, sure, but Minho--despite the way he treated you like a sister--was not your brother.

“It feels different now,” Mingyu mused aloud. “Seeing your brother again.”

“Knowing he’ll be your family, too?” You stopped the ball as he kicked it back toward you. You glanced toward the net behind him, and took your chance to kick it toward it. “You should! He’s going to torment you now!”

Mingyu had taken off running, stopping the ball with ease. He laughed when you pouted (you weren’t as adept at sports as he was), and sent the ball back toward you. “I’m okay with that.” He paused, taking a step back so that he stayed firmly in front of the goal. “Shoot it again. Try to get it past me.”

“You won’t be after our first family dinner,” you huffed. Again, you kicked the ball toward Mingyu, only for him to catch it with ease. “You’re better at this than I am.”

Mingyu looked back at you. “One more. Just kick the ball,” he told you with a nod toward the goal behind him, and then he threw it flying toward you.

You’d yelped, trying to run and block it after it hit the ground, so that you could kick it back toward him and the goal. You missed the ball entirely as it went rolling past you, your own momentum too much as you were sent sprawling into the grass. The impact stun, and you heard Mingyu yelling your name as he booked it over to you. He fell to his knees beside you, fingers grazing your face as he looked you over.

And then you broke out laughing. “Oh my god,” you said. “I can’t do sports.”

He watched you for a moment, and you realized just how concerned Mingyu had looked before he laughed, too. He collapsed into the grass next to you after a moment, hand finding your own. “You scared me,” he said. “I thought you were hurt!”

“I’m fine, you dork.” Your fingers intertwined with his own like it was second nature to you. “Just... really bad at sports.”

Mingyu squeezed your hand as he laughed, gently scolding you for not telling him you were alright sooner. You turned your head to look at him, admiring his profile as he stared up at the starry sky overhead. You always knew that Mingyu was handsome--hell, you’d heard it from countless people, including his own friends as they cursed the fact that he was so stupidly tall and handsome and loving. But now it felt... different to notice that Mingyu was a good looking man. There was a stirring in your chest that wasn’t always there. Or was it? Was it there when you went to the movies to him, his hand gently grazing the small of your back as he guided you ahead of him? Or during the hike, when he took your hand to guide you up a difficult patch of the trail, not letting go as soon as you expected? Or at Everland, when he kept you tethered to him in the crowd with his fingers interlocked with his own, or at the ice skating rink, too, when you coaxed him out with only a hand offered to hold his own?

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, lingering there for a moment as you realized how soft they looked. Then you tore your gaze away, pushing that thought aside. Mingyu was handsome. Anyone could see that. It wasn’t a crime to notice it. But his hand was still holding yours, and you couldn’t help but realize that something was changing...

And if Mingyu was supposed to propose to you soon... you needed to figure out what. In less than a week, your fates would essentially be sealed with a pretty ring to symbolize it all. Were you falling for Kim Mingyu? Or were you in love with the safe feeling he’d provided you with? The thought twisted your stomach: Mingyu didn’t love you back. Mingyu was your best friend, the person who understood you the most. Your soulmate in the quietest, most platonic version of the word. Like Wonwoo was for Mingyu. Mingyu was your best friend: end of story.

You squeezed your eyes shut, instead settling on one thought alone: you cannot marry Kim Mingyu if you were starting to fall in love with him.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune​ @wonuziex​

sweet night taglist: @twogyuu​ @itsveronicaxxx @caratluvie  @xxluckydreamsxx @onlyasgoodasitgets​ @wasteitonserendipity​

[hccn-overseer]

Issue 14, 7/19/2023 - The Overseer

Issue Masterpost About the Overseer

Bi-Weekly Overseer HQ Report

By Nes, art by Z

Welcome back to another normal issue of The Overseer, and with it our Bi-weekly HQ update! In this article, I like to run through the mayhem and mishaps that have occurred in the Overseer HQ these past few weeks. I hope you enjoy our antics as much as I do.

First up on the list, last week we discovered the office has a basement! Why Roo never informed us of this is unknown, but there were lots of amazing finds down there, such as an old school globe which is now proudly presented in my office. Is it accurate to the modern borders? Absolutely not, but it looks cool.

Additionally, alongside our cat infestation, we also appear to have a rat colony living in Roo's office. They’re allegedly stealing all his homemade pizza. How do you have a cat and rat infestation at the same time? We here at The Overseer aren’t sure, but we sure have managed it. Thankfully, the rats seem contained to the one office and have not caused any troubles outside of their pizza heists. I personally vote to allow them to stay.

I’m sure you’re waiting for me to address the elephant in the room, and I’m glad you’re just as excited about the new coffee machine as everyone else in the office is. As a non-coffee drinker, my opinion towards it is neutral, but writers, artists, and proofreaders alike are overjoyed at the addition. The old machine was from the 80’s and tasted like mold according to a writer. The new one is much more modern. 

Lastly, the most important news of the week: The Overseer’s fursona would be a raccoon. 

Thank you for tuning in to this week's issue of the Bi-weekly Overseer HQ Report. We need a new name for this due to that one sucking, but I don’t have the time to fix it. Have a lovely rest of your week, and see you next time!

Now onto other news under the cut!

Affiliate Happenings

By Roo

Docm77: It appears that he is very creature-shaped. Maybe this creature likes eggs.

GoodTimesWithScar: Mistakes were, apparently, made, but Scar is also simply a creature, so he cannot be blamed for this.

Grian: Mumbo has turned into a redstone-powering helicopter. The fact that this happened in the Grian affiliate channel is ignored.

ImpulseSV: He is so small. A little guy. Creature, even.

JoeHills: (Only slightly concerned that this bit has been going on for months) Joe Hills.

MumboJumbo: Please let me never see realistic Minecraft Mumbo again. Mumbo affiliates, I am begging you.

ZombieCleo: Forbidden cinnamon roll bath bomb. I'm sorry, what?

Weekly Weather Report

By Nes

Temperature is depicted using Celsius. Sorry, Americans.

Thursday - Clear skies are expected for Thursday with a high of 21, and wind is looking to be minimal with high humidity. Clouds are expected to come in during the afternoon, with the chance of rain being moderately high around dinner time. Be sure to apply sunscreen before going out for the day, and pack an umbrella or rain jacket if you expect to be out in the late afternoon.

Friday - Cloudy skies and rain are expected to arrive early Friday morning, with a high of 10 and strong winds. Flying is not advised in these conditions, however, you should be able to perform outdoor work if needed. Rain will last throughout the day and is expected to become worse in the evening.

Saturday - Rain continues into Saturday with a high of 11. Areas of the server may experience thunder and dangerously high winds. Citizens are urged to stay inside and save water in case of a power outage. A storm is expected to last the entire day.

Sunday - Thunder is expected to continue into Sunday and spread across the entire server as rain continues, a high of 12 and strong winds will accompany the storm. Once again, citizens are advised to stay indoors until the rain clears in the late evening.

Monday - Cloudy skies and light drizzles are expected with a low humidity and moderate winds and a high of 16. It is now safe to leave your home, and there are crisis services available if your property was damaged during the storm.

Tuesday - Cloudy skies with a bit of sun and a high of 21 is expected Tuesday, humidity will be moderate and winds low. This is an optimal day for outdoor work and citizens are advised to take advantage of it.

Wednesday - Clear skies return to close out the week with a high of 27, humidity is moderate and winds are breezy. A perfect day for the beach, so grab your swimsuits and head on down!

ArtFight Citizen Artwork

By Lydia

With the month over halfway through, participants of both the Citizen Hub and the annual ArtFight competition, held from July 1st to July 31st, have been vigorously creating digital and traditional art pieces for this special event. As we have observed a significant amount of pieces depicting Citizens of the Server, this article features a collection of portraits, many of which are drawn by your fellow participants, as we have progressed through the competition.

ArtFight is an artwork gifting game focusing on celebrating original characters created by internet users of all genres. Taking place during the same month every year, the concept began in 2007, although the website that hosts the event, ArtFight.net, did not come to fruition until 2016. Upon entry to the competition, all participants are divided into two teams, each with different themes for every year. This year’s teams are the Vampires and the Werewolves, and in previous years have featured the themes of Bloom and Wither, Sugar and Spice, Dream and Nightmare, Magic and Technology, Sun and Moon, and Land and Sea, to name a few. Participants then place their original characters on their profile that they would like to receive artwork depicting, and will create pieces for others who have done the same. 

Points are earned based on the number of art pieces created, the levels of character visibility, shading, and background work, as well as whether the pieces are drawn in return for a piece received. Artwork that a participant creates for someone else is called “Attacks” and artwork that is received from other artists is called “Defenses.” A piece drawn in return for someone’s attack on a participant is called “Revenge.” With the current standings, the Werewolves team is currently taking a very large lead, though the exact points expectedly change each day.

Some participants of both the Server and the competition have chosen to feature their Citizens as characters in their ArtFight profiles. Due to the surrounding enthusiasm that has developed regarding participants’ Citizens and their respective artistic depictions, competitors have seized the opportunity to share their artistic visions for twice the benefits. During this month, artists are both bringing joy to the strangers, acquaintances, and companions that they have met and are racking up points for their teams. Artwork depicting a Citizen that was not created by the artist is not uncommon and has been swiftly making the rounds since the first month of the Server’s existence in April. Our gregarious community took no time at all to become enthralled with each others’ creative voices. With the incentive of ArtFight, however, The Overseer staff members believe that this is the perfect time to showcase this particular flavor of Citizen depictions. 

If you are interested in signing up for this year’s ArtFight, it is not too late! With the final day being July 31st, there is still plenty of time to join. ArtFight welcomes artists of every skill level, from novices, hobbyists, and youths to professionals in their artistic careers. Unfortunately, if you do not have an account, you will not be able to view anyone’s profile or artwork from the website itself. It is believed that the purpose of this inaccessibility to outsiders is meant to prevent data scraping, but the true motivation remains unknown. Despite the inconvenience, it is not required of a user to participate in any ArtFight competitions to have an account.

View the collection here!

This collection is organized in chronological order with the exception of a final piece featuring many Citizens at once, and the time-frame ranges from July 1st to July 17th of this year. Each piece depicts a Hermit Citizen in some way, shape, or form, according to each artist’s interpretation. The Overseer hopes that all recipients of the artwork have enjoyed seeing their Citizens through an alternate lens! We commend all of the efforts that each artist has contributed to shaping their pieces into their idiosyncratic depictions of each Citizen showcased in this exhibition.

Astrology Corner

By Lydia

Do you feel you are lacking guidance? Do you look up your birthday and star sign and wonder, “What travels await me? Will I come into a windfall of a resource I’ve been looking for? Will my weekend be exciting or mundane?” Do not worry. Here at The Overseer, we can help.

*Ignore how specific these are. Nothing bad will happen to you.

Aries: You will visit the thrift store in the near future. Inside, you will find many artifacts that you have previously dreamt about. If you choose to buy any of them, you will feel a euphoric burst of creativity.

Taurus: You will attend a fishing trip during the coming weekend. You will catch several types of fish, and if you choose to release any of them, you will receive a stack of potions of water breathing.

Gemini: You will attend a small folk concert in the near future. The band’s music will be very clearly amateur. If you choose to stay through to the end of the concert, someone you meet there will reveal a secret about The Watchers to you.

Cancer: You will attend a carnival featuring a new ride. It will be advertised as a “tour through hell” but perfect for thrill seekers. If you choose to ride it, you will gain a lifetime pass to Scarland.

Leo: You will meet a private eye detective investigating the Listeners organization. They will ask for your assistance in helping them sabotage a plot by The Watchers in a Life Series. Should you choose to accept, you will find yourself deeply emotionally attached to another contestant.

Virgo: You will be asked to volunteer as a janitor for a local restaurant. If you choose to accept it, you will find yourself in a scheme in which you are desperately trying to cover up the restaurant’s many health code violations.

Libra: You will find yourself on a winning streak at the local arcade. Just when you earn enough tickets to win yourself something exciting, whether it be a particular piece of artwork, a load of diamonds, or a rare artifact, you will be chased by several children at the arcade for your tickets. There will be approximately 20 of them. Good luck outrunning them all!

Scorpio: You will embark on a tour of all of the castles on the Server. You will be asked to give a full summary of everything you have learned about them to both Cleo’s and Cub’s museums. You must choose one museum to lie to and one museum to tell the truth to. Choose wisely!

Sagittarius: You will soon find a bowl of fruit at your doorstep. If you choose to eat it, you will find yourself levitating approximately ten inches off the ground at different times of the day for the rest of the week.

Capricorn: You will go to the beach on your next day off and encounter several abandoned metal detectors, seemingly all defective. If you choose to attempt to repair any of them, several local beachcombers will pay you a handsome fortune.

Aquarius: You will find several travelers attacking mobs in a Nether fortress. They will offer you some of their loot if you are able to stay and help them over the next few days. If you choose to accept, you will awaken on the final day to find that they all appear faceless and many inches taller, and will offer you protection in future times of trouble.

Pisces: You will encounter a very chatty hairdresser over the weekend who will offer to give you a free haircut. They will show you photographs of all of their previous haircuts, all of which will appear quite bizarre to you. If you choose to accept their offer, you will find yourself able to understand a handful of common mob languages.

Lost and Found

By Lydia

All of the following items have been brought to The Overseer staff’s office for safekeeping until they are claimed. If you recognize one of these items as yours, please visit us to receive your items, or contact us at lostandfound@thehermitnews.org. Thank you! *Not a real email address.

Item 1: An assortment of items made from chicken feathers Due to the incident of Poultry Man’s influx of chickens, various items have been created using chicken feathers, whether they are practical or not. These items include a feather duster, a collection of quill pens that do not write very well, two feather boas, a feather fan, and many fishing flies. They were found scattered all throughout the Server, including Doc’s base, the Shopping District, the Birdhouse, and the Sculk Research Center.

Item 2: A lamp depicting a mermaid sitting on a conch shell This lamp takes the form of an orange conch shell that stands approximately six inches tall and features an ivory sculpture of a plus-sized, curly-haired mermaid sitting on top of it holding a small anchor. It was found near Atlantis but was not claimed by anyone for the last five days. Our staff members stated that they can hear unsettling whispers in gibberish when standing near the lamp. They also state that they believe it moves when no one is looking. Please, somebody, claim it.

Item 3: A postcard with a photograph of a sailor on the open ocean This postcard depicts an Albatross Avian sailing on a very small boat. The boat’s sail is made of sewn patchwork, and the sailor appears with an enthused expression, leaning back to catch the wind. The written note on the postcard states that the Avian owns a shop called Surf and Sky, and mentions their vested interest in all things related to sea animals.

Item 4: A collection of 1970s patterned clothing A collection of outfits featuring shirts with large, geometric asymmetrical patterns, bell-bottomed pants, large round-tinted sunglasses, brown vests, and flower-patterned bandannas were found scattered throughout the Scarland ride areas. The staff had a fun day playing dress-up with these costumes, but it is time for us to return them to their rightful owner.

Item 5: A sword named Roastisserie Blade Found on the Nether Roof, this wooden sword has Mending, Unbreaking 3, Sharpness 5, Looting 3, and Fire Aspect 2. It also has the scent of slightly burnt rotisserie chicken. The staff concludes that it must have made for an interesting spit to roast such a meal.

Item 6: A list of criteria of base accessibility and a photograph of a moth person This list was found near Impulse’s Dwarven Keep, filled with check marks and written notes regarding this particular base. Attached to it was a photograph of a green moth person with purple eyes and a very dapper suit. They wear a relaxed smile and are holding a contour cane, and are lounging in a wooden chair. 

ADVERTISEMENTS

By Jamie

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Calling all rat exterminators! Chief Editor of the Newspaper, Roo, is in the midst of an invasion! Various rats aka the unpaid interns have come in and started stealing their pizza! If you can help and/or want some freshly nibbled on pizza contact Roo today.

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This week’s meeting is for the gardeners AND gamers! Meet up with the gardening club this Friday for an exclusive tour of Joe’s pinball machine. Daisies are required for entry.

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Here at the Scar Safety Service we are here for YOU. We can help with any of your base-protection needs from fighting off hordes to cleaning up creeper holes.

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All possible deaths during the cleanup process are defaulted as the fault of the base’s owner. The SSS recognizes the hazards of the job and will not be paying for them.

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Fun and Games

This week's fun and games are brought to you by Lydia and Azure!

Word Search and Crossword by Lydia

Brain Teasers by Azure

And that's all for this week folks! Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely week!