#please let me finish this one thing first

[starkeyvhs]

only you my girl, only you babe

PAIRING: rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

SUMMARY: four times your “enemy” rafe hinted he cares for you and the one time you actually caught on it. OR you thought rafe doesn’t like you because he hates all pogues. little did you know he has always looked at you differently.

WORD COUNT: 6.7k

WARNINGS: drinking, drugs, swearing, blood and wounds, kinda canon rafe (omg kez????), obx cliches (mainly the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing from S1), extremely ‘only soft to you and no one else’ vibes, fluff, angry confessions, heavy pining, mentions of y/n

EDITH SPEAKS: oh. my. god. if you were there on my old blog you would know how long it’s been since I first introduced my idea of writing this fic. I got stumped on it way too often and then forgot about it for months, and then decided to abandon it. But I found it again and I got my inspiration back and now I’m so so happy it’s actually finished!! <3

major thank you to @zyafics who helped me last year when i was writing the fic and helped me brainstorm ideas for it :’) kissing your beautiful mind just like always zya xxx

this really is a labor of love and I genuinely couldn’t be happier 🥹I would highly appreciate all kinds of feedback and reblogs, because they really are extremely motivating and fun to get back to! I hope you enjoy reading, and i hope these 6k words are worth all your time and attention :)

masterlist / join my taglist / requests

PROLOGUE

“Stay off Figure 8!” 

The all too familiar deep voice boomed across the beach, a completely dead silence started to surround the atmosphere. A loud groan was heard along with the unsteady thump of a person falling onto the sand, causing people standing around to gasp. 

JJ struggled to get up from the ground, the big punch he received from the one and only caused his nose to bleed non stop, and when he barely opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of icy cold blues staring back at him. 

“You hear me, Maybank? Stay. Off. Figure. 8. You and all your filthy pogue friends.” 

JJ tried getting up and talking back, he really did, but the one and only Rafe Cameron punched him so hard he lost all his balance. Blood kept on flowing in a never ending fashion, and JJ could see dark spots in his vision, his mind feeling light headed. 

“JJ!”

Rafe froze in his position, not looking up from JJ at the sound of JJ’s name being called out. The voice, the perfume, the general aura of the presence; Rafe didn’t have to look up to see who it was. 

“JJ oh my god please tell me you’re okay,” you mumbled, your voice almost trembling with the worry dripping from your words. You got on your knees and gently cradled JJ’s face, pulling it into your lap as you brushed his hair aside to look at the extent of damage on his face. JJ mumbled something incoherently and you let out a sigh, relieved he wasn’t completely knocked out. 

Rafe stood there on the side, his eyes widened as he saw how your fingers ran through his hair and wiped off his blood, he saw how careful you were with him, he saw how you mumbled small words of sweet nothingness to him. 

Rafe didn’t know what to say, he stood there limply as he watched you help JJ up, let him loop an arm across your shoulders so you could help him walk back to The Cut. 

As he saw you both walk back, he felt his blood boil. The rage built in him slowly like a thunderstorm, his breathing started to become erratic and his fists clenched tightly on his sides. 

“FUCK!” 

Rafe’s foot kicked across an empty beer can buried in the sand, causing it to fly and topple a few meters further from him. 

He wouldn’t have done anything to JJ, heck, he wouldn’t have looked at him if he knew you were on the beach too. 

The look on your face when you saw how hurt JJ was, the concern clouding all over your facial features; from the furrow of your brow to the frown on your lips, he knew you now hated him more than ever. He knew you would never want to look at him ever again. He knew you would never acknowledge his presence ever again. 

He knew there was no chance you would look at him the way he looked at you. 

ONE — THE PARTY

It was crazy.

The lights were neon and bright and they pierced your eyes harshly. The people at the party were almost sticking next to each other, their sweat, weed, alcohol, and an ungodly mix of expensive and cheap colognes being the only thing you can smell. 

You almost gagged as you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd, but you finally did, finding yourself taking deep breaths as you leaned against the countertop of the makeshift bar in the kitchen, letting the awful smell wash away from your nose palette. 

When you started feeling better, you got yourself a nice cold beer, letting the icy liquid run down your throat, sending chills down your spine but in a way you relished deeply. 

It was a scene like any other party; there were people dancing, some catching a smoke break at the side, some making out on the other side, nothing new. 

And it wasn’t anything new when a fight broke out. 

You didn’t know who the boys were who started to fight; all you saw was them go at each other like wolves, their courage mostly coming from the plethora of drugs in their system, profanities after profanities spilling out their mouth, and you were just watching from the side, completely nonchalant about it. 

But you were not so nonchalant when glass bottles were involved in hurting the other; you being in close proximity to the fighting pair resulted in one of the flying broken piece of glass cutting your hand, making you yell out at the sharp pain. The cut looked deep as the blood didn’t stop gushing out, but no one focused on you. Everyone was too busy watching the fight, trying to stop it, or just enjoying it for the heck of it. 

You hissed in pain, your own beer bottle set aside as you squeezed your eyes shut from the stinging pain spreading from your hand to your forearm. The blood started to trickle down from your palm down to the floor, and you had no idea what to do or who to go to. 

It all became a huge mess very quick, you on the side with your hand bleeding, and the rest of the party too busy to peg the immature boys on. 

You felt a tall shadow stalking over you, the scent of the rich cologne all too familiar. 

“That looks bad,” you heard in your ear. 

You turned to be face to face with Rafe. He was stalking down your wound, the blood flow not really stopping as the drops dripped down on the hardwood floor. His expression wasn’t one of worry. But it wasn’t one of detest either. It was just… emotionless. 

“Yeah no shit,” you muttered, looking down at your wound too. 

“Here,” he said, fishing out his handkerchief from his pocket. “This should help for the moment…” he muttered as he gently took your hand and wrapped the handkerchief around your cut. 

You looked at his hands working around your hand, covering up the cut. The pearly white cloth was quickly stained with a deep red of your blood, slowly spreading throughout the cloth. 

“You should get that checked once, just in case you need stitches,” he said, tying a knot to fix the cloth in its place. Just like his facial expression, his voice is also emotionless, monotone words leaving his lips. 

“Why are you doing this?” You couldn’t help but ask, out of all the people, Rafe was there to help you with your wound. 

“Because you’re bleeding a little too much,” he said, taking a step back from you. His hands then buried in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugged at you. 

You looked up in his icy blue eyes, not a single emotion in them. You weren’t sure what to say, finding yourself to be quite stunned which was never really the case; whenever Rafe talked to you, you were always quick to talk back, never letting him be the one who said the last words. 

“Right… thanks,” you muttered, looking down at the securely tied handkerchief around your hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head, and left you alone. 

TWO — THE FAILED DATE

You clutched on the tablecloth out of utter anxiousness, your eyes darting around the room. You took a look at your watch for the umpteenth time, and saw that the time you were supposed to be meeting someone got farther and farther in the past with each passing second. 

It had now been over an hour, the waiters had politely asked you if you would like to eat something, and all you asked for was a simple glass of water, because what if he shows up?

But now you could very clearly see that he won’t. 

You had a date, which unlike the past dates you had been on, really excited you. You thought he was a nice boy, someone you met while you were buying some beer for you and your friends. You don’t remember how the conversation started, but you both used to talk quite often, numbers exchanged and texts sent under the pale moonlight of 3 am. 

He finally asked you out on a date, and you were thrilled, to say the very least. But now, here you were at a fancy restaurant on Figure 8 which you barely got to go to, absolutely impatient as your knee bounced up and down out of anxiousness and embarrassment. 

You felt tears prick your eyes but you were quick to not let them fall, wiping them away from your waterline. You looked down in your lap, your fingers nervously pulling onto each other as the reality of being ditched settled in you. You took another look at your phone, desperate for any text, but there were no notifications. 

But then, you felt the sunlight falling onto you from the window next to you being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe. 

Of course, Rafe, out of all the people. 

He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you; your slightly red eyes and the tears accumulated in them didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Why are you here all alone?” He asked you, still standing in front of you. 

You just shook your head as a reply and picked up your belongings from the table. “It’s none of your business Rafe… I’ll just leave…” you muttered, but before you could do anything else, Rafe sat in the seat opposite to you. 

He took a look at your outfit, noticing it’s something different than the attire you’re usually sporting, something more formal. 

It didn’t take him long to connect two and two together to figure out everything. 

“You got ditched huh?” He said silently. His tone came off condescending to you, even though he didn’t mean to sound that way at all. 

You mentally braced yourself to get embarrassed by him, ready to hear a comment or two from him, because that’s what he did: say rude things to people, especially Pogues, because he felt like it. 

But he didn’t say anything. 

Absolutely nothing. 

You looked up at him, small streaks of tears had started making their way down. “I told you it’s none of your business,” you said, sniffling. 

He only sighed as he leaned back in the chair, watched you carefully as your head hung low, silent sobs escaping you as you occasionally wiped away your tears. 

“Listen, it’s not your fault okay?” He mumbled. You looked up from your lap with your eyes filled with tears. “I know you must be feeling really bad right now, and there is nothing wrong about it, but don’t think too much about it,” 

“I… I got ditched Rafe. I am sitting here all alone in this expensive restaurant crying my eyes out. How can I not think too much about it?” You whispered, your eyebrows creased together. 

He leaned a bit closer to you. “I’m trying to make you feel better…” He said softly. 

“Well,” you sniffled, looking away from him, “I didn’t ask for it, okay?” 

These were the last words you said, before you got up from your chair and left the restaurant, whilst Rafe watched you walk away, wanting to hold your hand and to stop you, but he just couldn’t. 

THREE — THE BEACH CLEAN UP

You looked up at the sun, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you took in a deep breath. The summers only seemed to be getting hotter this time around, and the fact that you were at a beach clean up at noon was not helping your situation. 

You liked to pick up work like beach clean ups in between your main job at the island club so you could make a little side money. 

As you got back to picking up the trash from the beach, throwing it in the little basket you’re carrying with yourself, you looked up to hear some chatter besides the otherwise quiet beach and the other people working quite silently. 

It was a group of Kooks – their expensive clothes and accessories shining under the bright rays of the sun completely unmissable. And in the group of them, a pair of electric blue eyes had its gaze fixed on you intensely. 

You didn’t even know why Rafe was there. Or why the other Kooks were there. They didn’t have any need to participate in these kinds of jobs. Everything was just handed down to them, daddy’s money being what they thrive on.

You ignored them and got back to working, focusing on clearing the trash from the specific area of the beach you were at. Just a few minutes later you felt the sunlight being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe right by your side, separated from his Kook friends. 

You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what, so you peeled your focus away from him and got back to picking up the trash and throwing it into the basket. 

“Here,” he said almost suddenly, causing you to look up at him. “I’ll hold it for you,” he gestured the basket in your hand, and even proceeded to hook two of his fingers into its side, holding onto it.

Before you could have protested, he gently pulled the basket from your hand, causing you to let go of it. You wouldn’t lie, your basket had started to get heavy from the innumerable aluminum cans and other trash sitting in it.

“Thanks,” you murmured under your breath and from the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe acknowledged you with a nod of his head. 

For the next hour or so, you went around picking up the trash and Rafe followed you holding the basket for you as if it weighed nothing, and you kept on dropping the trash in it. It was oddly comfortable, the silence between you two as you weren’t sure what to say – and frankly, you thought that was the best. 

As the clean up came to an end, everyone was sitting in the sand, and light laughter and chatter filled the group. The afternoon had started to turn into evening, the bright rays of the sun turning into something more warm, more comforting instead of burning. You sat in the sand, leaning back on your forearms a little away from the rest, just letting the summer breeze blow past you gently. 

Rafe sat down next to you, and held out something. You saw it was a glass of iced lemonade he got from the little surf shop. 

“You didn’t have to,” you mumbled, eyeing the glass in his hand, the condensation on the surface causing water droplets to slide against the smooth glass. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ve worked all afternoon. Have it, it’s my treat.” 

You took another second or two before taking the glass from him, sipping on the cool, sour yet sweet liquid and allowing it to run down your throat. He remained seated next to you as you both watched the waves crash on the shore, the seagulls flying over and the sun only delving you into a comforting warmth more and more with each passing second, and slurped on your little lemony drinks. 

FOUR — THE TIP

The day was slowly turning into dusk, the bright afternoon light leaving to welcome darker pink and orange streaks cast by the almost setting sun. This was the time when the island club started filling in more and more, the bar being one of the first parts of the club to get exceptionally occupied.

You were busy serving an older woman, your mind completely occupied to make the martini, when out of the corner of your eye, you caught the all too familiar gist of a head of dirty blonde curtain bangs. 

You turned your head to meet Rafe’s blue eyes looking intently at you. The way he was focused on you, his gaze not wavering for even a fraction of a second, and the strong intensity behind them made you feel like the only girl on this planet. Though, of course, that feeling was short-lived when you were snapped out of your daze by a customer calling out for you. 

You were quick to rush over to the customer, who had just finished the drink you had served him. He left the money for his drink where he was sitting and was already making his way out of the club. 

You  picked up the dollar bills to see he paid completely for the drink, but the tip wasn’t even touching the bare minimum. You didn’t know what the reason was, you had been kind to the customer, made his drink perfectly and served it on time, and even presented it as aesthetically as you could. Even then, your tip wasn’t up to the mark. Sighing, you made your way over to the other end of the bar counter where you kept your tip jar, which coincidentally also happened to be where Rafe was sitting. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, eyeing your woeful expression as you were putting the newly received ���tip’ (if it can be even called that) in the jar. His eyes raked over the jar, and he couldn’t help but find it a lot more empty than it should be. 

“Yeah everything’s fine,” You mumbled, keeping the jar aside. You wiped your hands once on the towel slung in the loop of your apron before looking up at Rafe. “What can I get you?” You asked. 

“A neat whiskey’s fine,” He said and you nodded. You served him the neat whiskey, setting the glass right in front of him. He gave you an acknowledging nod and wrapped his fingers around the glass and bought it closer to his mouth, drinking from it. 

You decided to work around the bar a bit, just cleaning everything up, preparing everything you may need in advance, practically anything you could get your hands at – because anything was better than having to talk to Rafe, who, by the way, didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second. His gaze was firm and jaw was set as he just saw you work around the bar, silently sipping on his whiskey. 

You kept yourself wonderfully distracted as you served the customers and prepared everything behind the bar, but every so often, your gaze would magnetically be pulled back to Rafe, and you would always catch him looking at you. 

When you noticed Rafe’s almost done with his glass of whiskey, you made your way back to him. 

“Another one?” You asked, and he only silently nodded as his reply. You refilled his glass with the neat whiskey, and leaned back against the counter, just simply glancing around the scene of the bar and the club and catching a small break. 

A silence fell over the two of you, the light chatter and the music playing in the club thrumming against your eardrums. Rafe was just silently sipping the whiskey, not saying or doing anything, just sitting there and having his drink. 

“So uh… you’re alone here tonight?” You asked, your words feeling cautious. “I mean, you’re usually here with Topper, or with someone, atleast,”

He set his almost finished glass at the counter, his fingers still wrapped around the clear glass. His gaze found yours, a warm blue instead of the usual icy one sinking into your eyes. 

“Topper was busy,” He muttered, “so I came alone,”

You just quietly hummed at his words, and from the corner of your eye you saw one of your customers finishing their drink and leaving their money on the counter. You went to get it, and when you did, you saw it’s the same thing repeating itself: the ‘tip’. 

You sighed, slightly aggravated as you made your way back to where the top jar was, and dumped the money in it. 

“Will it kill them to just pay something to their bartender?” You sighed, leaning against the counter and tilting your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. Your shift was close to coming to an end and if that’s the money you had to go home with tonight, well, it’d be kind of fucked. 

You could feel Rafe’s gaze on you, but he didn’t say anything, just finished the last sip of his whiskey in a gulp. You were about to ask him for another refill, but you heard someone calling you out. 

You turned around to see it was one of your coworkers, who told you were being called inside. You turned to look back at Rafe, but he just shook his head, and gestured to you to leave. You followed your coworker and went inside to where he was leading to. 

After being freed from the quite useless meetup with your manager, you finally walked back out to the bar after 15 minutes. When you did, you saw Rafe’s stool was empty, and there was money kept on the counter. 

You approached the counter, and the moment you saw the money, your eyes almost fell out from how wide they got. 

Ten crisp hundred dollar notes sat unfolded on the marbled counter along with the money for the whiskey, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. For a second, it felt unreal. You reached your hand out and your fingertips touched the paper, and you realised the money was real. You picked the notes up, your lips parted in shock as you gaze at them. 

Rafe tipped you $1000. 

1000 fucking dollars. 

Your gaze immediately turned towards the exit of the bar, and of course, you couldn’t spot Rafe – you had completely missed him. 

You carefully kept the notes in your tip jar and sealed the jar shut. Through the glass, you couldn’t remove your gaze from the notes, your mind now completely clouded with Rafe, and his tip. 

ONE — THE BROKEN DOWN CAR

You let out a frustrated groan, kicking the tyre in utter vexation, which helped you release just the tiniest fraction of your rage. You fished out your phone from your pocket just to see it was nothing more than a dead device, serving you no purpose. You almost had the urge to throw the phone, but you stopped yourself at the right second, because you realized, you can’t afford to hear the sound of the glass screen cracking. 

Instead, you just kicked a pebble in your path and slumped against the side door of your beat up car which decided to stop working halfway across your journey from Figure 8 to the Cut. You were at the side of the road, watching other cars and vehicles pass by as you sat there on the roadside, not having a single clue on what to do. 

10… 15… 20 minutes passed and you were still in the same position, not knowing what to do and not making any effort to find out either. The road fell silent a few minutes ago, no vehicles crossing, but the silence was short lived when you heard the revving of an engine from the distance, and it came to a stop right next to you. 

An all too familiar red and black bike stood next to you, the rider’s face covered by the helmet. But the bike, the gold signet ring on the index finger of the left hand, and the taut muscles peeking from under the t-shirt were more than enough to confirm who it was. 

The helmet came off and Rafe’s piercing blue eyes found yours. 

“What happened?” He asked, getting off his bike as he ran a hand through his hair, his curtain bangs pushed back momentarily before they fell down on both the sides of his face in a ragged middle part just like always. 

“My car broke down,” you muttered as you looked up at him. 

“Hm.” 

He rounded around you and lifted the cover of the engine, holding it up with one hand as he inspected the engine carefully. You watched him intently, trying to figure out what the expressions on his face meant, but there weren’t any to begin with. It was a face so cold and plain, suiting well with the cold blue eyes. 

“There’s some issue with the battery. You most probably need to get it replaced.” He declared, letting the cover fall back in its place. 

“Oh great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words as you threw your head back against the door of your car. “That’ll probably cost nothing, won’t it?” 

Rafe caught the sarcasm of your words very well but didn’t comment anything, just wiped the dust off his hands as he gazed down at you. 

“Come on,” you heard, and as you looked up, you saw he was holding his hand out for you. “You were probably going back home yeah? I’ll drop you.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off the next instant. 

“No ifs, or buts, or ‘Rafe’s, you hear me? You’re letting me drop you off, and are letting me take care of this,” he said, gesturing to your car. “I’ll call a mechanic who’ll get your car towed from here and will work on it. Now come on, none of us have got all day.” 

By the end of his words, you knew whatever you’ll do is equivalent to pointless, so you gave in. You gently held his hand and helped yourself up from the road, brushing a hand over your clothes as he led you to his bike parked aside. 

Rafe put his helmet on top of your head and adjusted the strap, and you heard a faint click as it fixed in place. You wanted to ask ‘what about you?’ when the only helmet was now sitting on your head, but you decided against it. He mounted the bike and gestured to you to do the same, revving the engine twice or thrice before taking off. 

He was definitely faster than what you had expected, and you couldn’t help it when you gripped the sides of his t-shirt, fisting the crisp material in your fingers to provide yourself some stability. For a second, he took one hand off the handlebar and reached for your hand scrunching his t-shirt. He gently took your wrist and you let go of the fabric in the process, allowing him to tug your hand and place it on his waist. Your other hand followed suit, and both of your arms were firmly wrapped around his waist. His hand landed back at the handlebar, and he only sped up more, the wind whipping past you at a phenomenal speed. 

The ride to The Cut came to an end when Rafe reached your home, and you didn’t want to admit to him or to yourself, but you felt it was short. The ride was nothing short of exhilarating, the wind whipping past your skin, and the way your arms found purchase around his waist gave you the comfort you needed. 

You got off the bike, firmly planting your feet on the ground as you did so, and Rafe’s hand instinctively wrapped around your arm to make sure you remained stable. You carefully took off the helmet and handed it back to him. 

“So uh,” You muttered, clearing your throat subtly, “thanks for the ride. Really,”

He shook his head, kicking the stand of the bike in place and allowing it to lean on one side. “Don’t worry,” He said, still sitting on the bike. 

“You, you really didn’t have to,” You said, your fingers intertwined with each other behind your back. 

“And do what? Leave you alone at the side of the road? With a broken down car and a dead phone?” Rafe sighed. “I wasn’t gonna do that y/n, you know that,”

You know that. 

Yeah you do. 

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as a small silence fell over you two as none of you said anything, and you kept on contemplating how you could possibly return such a massive favor. 

“You…” You began, your voice low, the words on the tip of the tongue feeling experimental, “you wanna come inside for a moment?”

Rafe’s response didn’t come out the very next second, and that small pause felt like years to you. 

“Sure,” He said, getting off his bike. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded, leading him towards your place. 

“It’s nothing big…” You muttered as you climbed up the stairs of the porch and he followed suit, watching you unlock the front door. “But it’s home, I guess.”

Knowing he had grown up in the richest part of the island, surrounded by everything he could possibly need and want, you had a feeling he’d definitely make some snarky comment. Cause isn’t that what he did? Rafe Cameron: the Kook prince, but also the biggest asshole?

But he was completely silent when he followed you inside and only quietly sat down on the couch you led him to, which you definitely were shocked to see, but nevertheless you didn’t really let it show on your expressions. 

“So uh…” you began to speak, wanting to break through the awkward air around you two, “anything you’d like? Water? Or some tea maybe?” 

He shook his head silently, and a moment later, gestured to the empty seat next to him. 

“Come sit,” he said, words simple and direct, no beating around the bush, just like always. 

You took a sweet moment to let his words settle in you, but when you did, you walked up to the couch and sat down next to him, a small distance maintained between the two of you. Your gaze remained fixed on your shoes, your hands perfectly intertwined in your lap, and your habit of pulling onto them – something which only tended to happen you felt really anxious – came back. 

The awkward air was around you two again, settling over you two like a blanket that is way too warm for hot weather, making you feel uneasy and has got you squirming for any sort of cooling. 

“Why do you do that?”

There it was. 

It was out. 

You blabbered out the question as if it meant nothing, when in reality, it carried so much more weight than you could possibly ever imagine. 

When you were met with silence for a moment, you looked up, and saw Rafe sitting with his hands on his knees, his own gaze fixed at something on the floor. What was it exactly – you couldn’t tell. 

When he still didn’t speak anything, you decided to take the chance. 

“You’re always… there for me, in one way or the other. You patched my hand up at that party weeks ago, when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You saw me crying to myself when my date didn’t show up and came up to me when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You helped me at the beach clean up and carried my heavy bin for me when you could’ve ignored the situation. You saw my lack of tips and paid me a massive one when you could’ve ignored the situation. You could’ve always ignored the situation, Rafe. Just like you always do with the other Pogues. With them, you don’t care for even a damn second. But… why are you doing so much for me?” 

The silence kept on greeting you, and you could feel yourself beginning to get impatient. Your gaze flickered over Rafe, and you didn’t miss the way he flexed his fingers over his knee, as if gripping it tightly. 

“I, I don’t know…” He mumbled weakly. You had never heard his voice take such a softer tone. It’s as if you didn’t even know it existed. 

“What– what do you mean you don’t know?” You sighed, turning your body a bit so you could face him. “That’s fucking ridiculous Rafe!”

“It’s not ridiculous I just can’t explain it the way you wish I could–”

“Well you should be able to cause I need explanations–”

“Not everything can be given a logical explanation come on–”

“Yes it can if you try hard enough–”

“I care for you okay!”

His words were loud, much louder than any of his previous words. Their loudness and conviction shut you up right at that moment, your eyes widening, and your lips slightly parted as you stared at him with a look of disbelief in your eyes. 

“I–I Rafe began, running a hand through his messy bangs, and you had to control the urge to run your own fingers through them and gently push them out of his eyes, “I don’t know why, but I just can’t stand the thought of you being hurt, or being sad, or going through any discomfort. I just can’t okay? Each time I see you that way I– I immediately get to solving it cause I can’t bear to see you all troubled. I don’t want to see a single scratch on your skin or– or a single furrow in your brow I just… want to see you happy. Cause you look... so so pretty when you’re smiling, y/n, it’s… it’s unexplainable,”

A silence fell over you two as you let his words sink in you, which was a lot harder than you’d like, but you were doing it. 

“And i just… wish that one day… you’d smile that pretty smile of yours because of me,” He murmured, “because I made you smile,”

You could see Rafe’s own words taking a massive toll on him, just as it was taking on you. You parted your lips to say something but you were just so horribly stumped, you couldn’t utter a single word. 

He ran a ragged hand through his hair once again and stood up, clearing his throat. 

“I should leave now,” He muttered, standing in front of your seated form but not facing you, but instead facing the door. Your own gaze was fixed at the floor, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping loudly in your eyes, his words repeating over and over like a broken record in your mind. 

You didn’t say anything to stop him, so Rafe silently walked out the door, closing it behind himself with a silent click. 

You were left all alone in your living room, Rafe’s weighted words lying heavy on your heart and mind, and the distant noise of his bike’s engine revving a bitter reminder that he wasn’t next to you anymore. 

Just two days later, when you woke up in the morning and looked out your window, you saw your car parked. Not only was the battery replaced, a whole paint job was done, the ripped car seats were replaced with some fancy leather, the tyres were exchanged for upgraded ones, and for a second, you didn’t even recognise your own car. 

You noticed a piece of paper held in place by the windshield wiper, and when you went outside and took the piece of paper and unfolded it, you saw a small phrase scrawled in black against the white of the paper. 

don’t mention it. – R.C.

EPILOGUE  

You let out a deep sigh as you watch him laugh, patting his friend’s arm in the process. A smile of pure contentment crosses your face, watching the rays of the bright, afternoon sun hit his bare skin and making it shine, his muscles seeming more pronounced than ever. 

You watch him turn around and glance at you over his shoulder, his smile wide as he gives you a flying kiss. You can’t help but chuckle at the endearing action, causing you to send one his way too. He lifts up two fingers in the form of a peace sign and gestures to his friend next to him, silently conveying to you that he will be by your side in just two minutes. You give him an understanding nod and watch his head turn back to the front, getting delved into the conversation with his friend again. 

You sip on your drink as you lean your head back, the sound of the boat rushing past the waves of the ocean filling your ear drums deeply. You close your eyes and just listen to the sound of waves, your mind shutting out the chitter chatter of the conversations of the other people on this boat. 

Soon enough you feel the sunlight being blocked and as you open your eyes, you see him standing right in front of you, a smile on his face. The chain around his neck along with the little gold capital letter of your initial hanging from it catches the sunlight and gleams more than it usually does. He sits down next to you and silently wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You smile as you lean into him, your fingers going immediately to fiddle with the chain, feeling the edges of the cool gold initial under your fingertips. 

You take a glance up at him, running your other hand along the side of his now buzzed head, feeling the short, prickly hair gently tickle your fingers. 

“Are you having a good time so far?” He mutters softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your head tucking in the crook of his neck. 

“Yeah, yeah I am,” you say quietly, your fingers mindlessly continuing fiddling with the gold initial on his chest. “You?” You ask, slightly lifting your head up from his neck. 

“Oh, the absolute best time,” He says softly, looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face. “We’re on our boat, and I’m with my gorgeous girlfriend, what else could I need?”

You can’t help but softly chuckle at his words, silently shaking your head as you lean your head against his shoulder again and resume fiddling with the chain. You do it often, almost each time you get your hands on him, and he loves it; feeling the occasional brush of your fingers against his skin and the gentle tugs on the chain. 

He allows you to relax against him completely, his arms around you to keep you close to him as you both sit silently, only the sound of the water and the light chatter of your friends accompanying you two. 

“Thank you,” Rafe says softly, his fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. 

You furrow your brows at his words, slightly confused, as you look up at him. “What for?” You ask. 

Rafe only keeps on gazing at you, a gentle smile pulling his lips. He quietly shakes his head, and with a gentle pull, he allows you to rest against him again. 

“Nothing.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Everything.” 

Your own lips can’t help but upturn in a small smile too. “Well, in that case…” you murmur, leaning back to look up at him, one hand coming to rest against his cheek as you gently caress the soft skin, and you slowly lean in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. 

“Thank you,” you mumble softly against his lips. Rafe’s hands grip your waist and he pulls you closer, not letting you pull back from the kiss. His fingers splay across your back as he kisses you, his lips moving in an unhurried, tender motion against yours. 

A moment or so later, he pulls back, his eyes opening by just a fraction. You let your arms hook around Rafe’s neck, keeping him close to you. 

“You’re the only one for me, Rafe,” you mumble quietly. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want.” 

He leans his head against you and takes a deep breath, your scent and the smell of the ocean around you filling his nostrils deeply. 

You both let the moment just simply sink in you, the sun rays bathing you in the warmest light, along with the presence of each other, which might be warmer than the sun any time of the day. 

“Only you, my girl,” he mumbles quietly. “Always and forever.” 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @khaisdrz / @weirdowithnobeardo

specific tags for this fic: @writingmeraki / @ghoslyethastaryn / @congratsloserr / @helloloverz / @littlelamy / @eolsens / @wtfdudesblog / @jkrafe / @onlyrealjoy / @husherstan / @lilithblackkk / @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @b1mb0slvt / @nemesyaaa / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @jjsbank444 / @ladyinbl00d

[certified-llama-chauffeur]

TANGERRITORIAL

You are a wolf pack. Devour everyone else and be the last pack standing.

MATERIALS

One tangerine per player

Knowledge of scissors, paper, stone/rock, paper, scissors (henceforth referred to as SPS)

STEPS

1: Everyone peels their tangerine and chooses how to divide the segments:

1 piece = pup 2 pieces = wolf Fastest player steals a pup from any other player

2: Place your pups & wolves on the peel.

3: Slowest player starts. Covertly pick one pup/wolf and play SPS with another player. Win = eat the other player’s pup/wolf.

pup vs wolf, pup wins = pup survives pup vs wolf, wolf wins = pup dies pup vs pup, win = pup dies wolf vs wolf, win = wolf dies

4: After everyone has lost at least 3 pups/wolves, roles reverse. Time has passed; your pups are grown.

1 piece = new wolf 2 pieces = new pup

5: Repeat Step 2-4., switching wolf/pup pieces. Play until one player remains.

EXTRA

If you refer to a pup/wolf as anything, they die (e.g. can’t call it a tangerine/piece/slice, etc.). Eat it.

If any pups/wolves not in play fall off the peel, they die.

(ok to archive offsite!)

First game I've ever made! Inspired by the ridiculous amount of tangerines I ate this month. It was going to be a warlord game at first but I realised I was overcomplicating things.

I thought about this the whole of November but waited until today to start writing. Finished it on the train to meet friends for dinner and I had so much fun figuring out the rules! Tangerritorial has not been playtested so I have no idea if it works or is any fun. If anyone happens to play this please let me know! tag me!

According to the wordcount check link, this is exactly 200 words. woo!!

EDIT: played this with my brother! short game, pretty fun. the last two tangerines in the fridge had brown spots so i peeled both first to check, skipping the 'fastest player picks...' thing. will probably try this with my friends next

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[xoxochb]

hi how about wedding night sex with percy pls ?

UHM fuck yes!!!!

cw: tons of dialogue at the beginning, fingering, implied oral (m! receiving) at the end, not proof read

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“have I told you how beautiful you look yet?”

“I don’t think so.” lie. he told you twenty-one times only today. “why don’t you tell me now?”

percy laughs against your neck before pecking it delicately. his hand fiddles with the top of the zipper belonging to your wedding dress. “you look beautiful. gods, I want to eat you whole.”

“what’s stopping you?” you tease. though you can already presume what he’s going to say.

“this damn dress.” he manages to get a hold on the zipper, dragging it down urgently.

“eager—” your question is cut short by percy’s lips over your own, the action alone eliciting a moan from you.

when he pulls away he speaks, “that’s enough talking for tonight, hm?”

shit weak knees. you let him re-attach his lips with yours as he slips your dress down your body, much to his surprise you’re wearing—

fuck.

“white lingerie?” he nearly breathes out. “for me?”

you shrug mischievously. percy resumes his previous actions until your shed of the white dress, somewhere now on the floor for you to discover in the morning. eagerly, his fingers fiddle with waistband of your lace panties, swiftly dragging them down your legs, you finish this process, kicking the rest off the edge of the bed.

his fingers trail the length of your inner thighs, your breath growing ragged as he reaches closer to your middle, and a shiver at the coldness of his wedding ring against your skin.

“perce, please- can you—” your sentence is cut short by a guttural moan as that same finger trailing your bare skin plugs inside of you without warning.

percy pecks his lips over your clavicle, your neck, back down to your chest and stopped over lace fabric. he pouts at this. you feel his finger reach a deeper length, the metal ring hitting you occasionally, sending a bolt of electricity through you.

you’re not entirely sure where to place your hands at first thought. but you decide if they belong anywhere it would be the raven colored hair of your husband. the mere idea that he’s your husband makes a wide grin veil your face. though when said husband’s finger curls inside you, you can’t help the pleasurable cry that leaves your mouth. the smile doesn’t stray far regardless.

you arch yourself into him, slowly rocking your hips to try and gather more friction if that’s possible. his name exits your red lips more than you’d like, unfortunately, it’s the only thing you can think of at the moment.

“perce- fuck- I-” well for starters you can’t breathe. secondly, it happens that your husband is some sort of sex god.

just when the feeling is growing overstimulating, he inserts a second finger, having you pull harshly at his hair. in response, he only laughs. you feel like you’re going to die now. though you can’t help thinking you’d rather die like this than any other way.

your tummy pools with an inferno-like heat. quickly, your peak creeping upon you like a predator to it’s prey. though the only predator here is perseus jackson who finds joy in pleasuring you until you pass out cold.

when, soon enough, with a singular swipe of his thumb, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. though percy works you through the prolonging of it, whispering quiet sweet nothings into your ear. it only half helps.

slowly, his fingers slide out from inside of you, dripping in your arousal that percy licks them clean of. you don’t try to stop the moan that the simple action causes you to let out.

still breathless and disoriented, you crawl off the bed and drop to your knees at the edge, beckoning percy to sit in front of where you sit kneeling.

“my turn?

yes, indeed it was.

[tinytinyblogs]

Take Me Back

After the breakup, all they can think about is you.

Hyung line, Maknae line(coming soon)

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Chan had been isolating himself since the breakup, retreating into his studio and shutting out the world. At first, he thought it was what he needed—to be alone and process everything. But as the days blurred together, he wasn’t sure anymore. Was he giving himself space to heal, or was he just drowning in his own sadness? The once-productive sanctuary of his studio became a place of frustration. The half-finished song on his computer screen mocked him, the melody incomplete, the lyrics refusing to flow. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus. All he could feel was the heavy ache in his chest. In that moment, he swore all he could think about was you. His mind reeled, his breath caught, and he realized he had never known just how important you were in his life until now. Sometimes, he swore he could hear your voice, faint but clear, nagging him gently like you used to whenever he overworked himself. The familiarity of it almost brought him comfort, but it was just a reminder of how much he missed you. His friends were worried.

They tried to coax him out, to remind him that he didn’t have to deal with this alone, but Chan would just shake his head and offer a weak smile. He spent his days clicking his pen absentmindedly, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. One evening, as the pen clicked rhythmically in his hand and he stared blankly at his computer screen, the door creaked open. He didn’t look up at first, too lost in his thoughts. But then he caught sight of you standing there in the corner of his vision. He blinked, startled, his heart skipping a beat it's a quiet exchange of gazes between you and him. "Stupid imagination," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the screen. “Until when are you going to keep caving yourself in like this, Chan?” His head snapped up, his wide eyes locking onto yours. The sound of your voice was too clear, too real. He couldn’t believe it. “Have you eaten?” you asked softly, stepping closer to him. Before he could respond, you reached out and gently took the pen from his hand.

Chan froze his voice seems caught in his throat, perhaps because he's too surprised to see you standing there in front of him. His breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming, but when you didn’t disappear, he stood abruptly. His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close. “It’s real... it’s really you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “God, I missed you so much.” His face buried itself in the curve of your neck as if he couldn’t let go. Your hand gently patted his back, and he exhaled shakily, some of the tension in his body melting away. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Please don’t leave. Keep nagging me, please. I need you in my life.” You let him hold you, your presence grounding him. “I thought I’d lost you forever after that stupid argument,” Chan said, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “But now… I know I can’t lose you. Not when I need you the most.” And for the first time in weeks, his heart felt just a little lighter.

Minho

Minho was stubborn, always had been. After the messy breakup, he carried on as though everything was fine, pretending nothing had changed. To most, he seemed unaffected, moving through his days with the same routine. But underneath the facade, he felt hollow. Without you, his world felt off balance. Motivation, once his driving force, slipped through his fingers. He went through the motions, but everything felt heavier now. Minho became more irritable, snapping at small things that would’ve never bothered him before. He wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but even he couldn’t deny that everything felt wrong without you. Though Minho had never been one for overt displays of affection, he missed the simple things—like holding your hand, the warmth of your fingers intertwined with his. It was ironic how much he craved it now, a reminder of what he’d lost. In quiet moments alone, he’d find himself staring at his phone case, the one you’d given him. The stickers you both had printed together—the ones that matched like high school sweethearts—mocked him with memories of happier times.

He’d trace his finger over them absentmindedly, his chest tightening at how much he missed those days. One particularly rough day, overwhelmed by the mess of emotions he kept bottled up, Minho decided to go for a run. The cold air burned his lungs as he pushed himself harder, as though he could outrun the ache in his heart. But when he stopped, panting and catching his breath, he froze. He was standing in front of your apartment building. His feet seemed to have carried him there without him even realizing it. Somehow, he found himself wondering just how much he had been longing for you. Before he even realized it, his feet had carried him to your place—but even then, he couldn’t bring himself to turn back. For a moment, he debated turning back, but the pull was too strong. Before he knew it, he was stepping inside and walking toward your door. And then, as if fate had planned it, the door swung open. You were there, about to head out. Both of you froze. “How many times do I need to tell you to zip up this jacket?” Minho broke the silence, stepping closer.

Without waiting for permission, he gently pulled the zipper up, shielding you from the cold. “Winter’s coming soon.” His voice was soft but firm, and the gesture was so familiar that it made your heart ache. His hand gently cradled yours, feeling the coldness of your hand, and slowly, his warmth began to transfer to you. There was a beat of silence as he looked at you, his gaze searching yours. Finally, he spoke again. “We should... get back together.” Your breath hitched, but you didn’t respond, letting him continue. “We made that silly promise, remember? To stay together forever,” he said, his voice quieter now. A hint of tears welled up in his eyes, revealing a side of Minho you had never seen before. “I still want that. I still want you.” Minho’s hand reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry... and I love you.” For the first time in weeks, Minho allowed himself to hope.

Changbin

Changbin couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of his own words—those impulsive, thoughtless words that shattered everything—had been suffocating him from the moment they left his lips. A few days had passed since the breakup, but each one dragged on endlessly, a torment he couldn’t escape. Regret gnawed at him like a relentless shadow, keeping him restless and desperate. That evening, he sat alone on the couch in his apartment—the same one you used to share. His leg bounced nervously as he buried his face in his hands, trying to untangle the chaos of his thoughts. But no matter how hard he tried, every thread led back to you. The empty space beside him, the silence that filled the room, and the constant ache in his chest all screamed one thing: he needed to fix this. He needed you back. By midnight, the longing became unbearable. Grabbing his jacket, Changbin bolted out the door, his heart hammering with every step. The cold night air stung his cheeks, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed with you—your smile, your laughter, the way you looked at him as if he were your whole world. How had he let it all slip away?

When he reached your place, his hand trembled as he reached for the spare key you had once entrusted to him. The metal felt cold against his skin, a stark reminder of what he had lost. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, his heart pounding so loudly it echoed in his ears. The sight of you stopped him in his tracks. You stood in the dimly lit kitchen, reaching for a glass of water. Your movements froze as you noticed him, your wide eyes mirroring his surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Changbin’s teary eyes locked onto yours, his longing laid bare. You were the one he had missed more than words could ever express, and seeing you now, so close yet so distant, nearly broke him. “I... I’m so sorry,” he finally stammered, his voice quivering. “For the argument. For the awful things I said. I didn’t mean any of it.” He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes glistening with tears he could no longer hold back. His shoulders shook under the weight of his emotions, but he pressed on. “Please… don’t leave me.”

His voice cracked as he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The familiar warmth of your touch sent a jolt through him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. His thumb brushed softly over your knuckles, a silent plea for forgiveness. “That day was stupid,” he admitted, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Everything without you is stupid. I can’t think straight. My heart hurts so much, longing for you.” He tilted his head, his teary eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “What should I do without you?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Can we… can we try again? Please. Let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything—just don’t let this be the end.” For a moment, the room was filled with silence. Changbin held his breath, his heart suspended between despair and fragile hope. As his hand squeezed yours, his eyes pleaded with you. And in that stillness, he dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same ache he did.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin sat on the edge of his bed, his phone resting in his trembling hands. The screen illuminated his face in the dimly lit room, his thumb hovering uncertainly over your contact. It had been two weeks since the breakup, and those fourteen days felt like a void swallowing him whole. He wanted to reach out, to see you, to explain everything, but his pride and fear kept him chained. The idea of showing up unannounced at your door was tempting, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he turned to his art, pouring his emotions onto blank pages as a silent plea to you. Every sketch he posted on social media held pieces of your story: your favorite flower, softly rendered in delicate lines; your favorite place, drawn with a wistful longing only he could convey; and little moments only you two shared, immortalized in graphite. They were messages without words, confessions without context, but still, you didn’t respond. Each day of silence cut deeper, leaving him questioning whether you even saw them or if you had chosen to ignore him altogether.

Tonight, the uncertainty became unbearable. His thumb hovered over your contact name once more, hesitating as doubts clouded his mind. What if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if he was only making things worse? But the ache in his chest pushed him forward. With a shaky breath, he finally typed out a message 'Can we talk?' He stared at the words for a long moment, his heart pounding as he debated whether to send them. When he finally hit the send button, relief and anxiety washed over him in equal measure. The message went through. You hadn’t blocked him—that alone was enough to spark a fragile hope. Emboldened, he typed again, his emotions spilling out 'About us. I want to explain myself… and I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance.' After hitting send, Hyunjin couldn’t sit still. He started pacing the room, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. Each passing second felt like an eternity, his mind racing through possibilities. Maybe you wouldn’t reply. Maybe you were done with him for good. Just as his resolve began to waver, his phone buzzed. He froze, staring at the screen as your reply appeared 'Come over.' Hyunjin didn’t waste a moment.

He grabbed his jacket and rushed out of his apartment, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the world around him. He ran down the street, barely remembering to slip on his shoes, his thoughts a chaotic blend of hope and fear. When he arrived at your door, he hesitated for just a moment before knocking. The door opened, and there you were. His breath hitched as your eyes met, the weight of the past two weeks settling between you. You stepped aside to let him in, and he entered slowly, his hands fidgeting at his sides as the door clicked shut. “I miss you,” he began, his voice cracking with raw emotion. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, searched yours. “And I’m sorry. Losing you—my anchor, my everything—was unbearable. I’ve been falling apart.” He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he clasped them together. “Can we… try again?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I can’t let you go. You’re the one for me. Please, give me another chance.” His vulnerability lingered in the air, and for a moment, the silence felt infinite. But as you looked at him, his honesty and pain breaking through your defenses, the barriers between you began to crack.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Pepi's birthday fic!🪄🎩🍌 Pookie's 22 now🥹 still such a baby💛

Also, I inspired in my fic about Gavi loving neck kisses, I keep seeing how Pedri gives forehead kisses to his teammates, I can imagine him doing that to his gf😭 so here it is!

One more thing, referring to the picture below what is it need to do for Pedri to look at me like that? 😭😭😭

Forehead Kisses -PG8

Summary: He loves forehead kisses and so do you.

Since the very beggining of your relationship with Pedri, you quickly learned all his habits, manias, facts, likes, dislikes; for example when he scrunches his face in concentration and pulls out the tip of his tongue, when he's nervous he taps his fingers against his thigh, he secretly loves rom-com movies, he's reserved with his things, his people, including you and his life. You knew how to read every single bit of him.

In your relationship, he's the most perfect partner, barely forgets dates, always texts or calls you, he is interested in your things, he cares for you and for your family, he gets along with your friends, he loves communicating with you. He's just him.

When it's only the two of you or with his/your family around, nothing can stop him from being all over you, they know how he is and they know how in love with you he is. On the other hand, he's very reserved while being in public, going as far as a hand hold, a hand on the back of your seat, a hand on your thigh or a small kiss on your forehead. That could never be missed.

You've never told Pedri before but you knew he loved giving forehead kisses, not just to you but also to his teammates, his friends and family.

And you loved them as well, that much you sometimes started looking for them, pushing your forehead into him so he could lean down and press his lips in your temple. It never failed to make you feel loved and protected by him.

So one morning, you were chopping the vegetables as Rosy was doing the eggs when you hear a small "Buenos días" (Good morning) and soon Pedri came into the kitchen with his face a bit swollen and a sleepy face.

"Buenos días" He got his reply from you all as he went one by one hugging his brother, Fer first; then his dad, then his mom and then he walked over to you.

"Buenos días, amor" (Good morning, love) You say briefly looking up at him before grabbing an onion and start cutting it.

"Buen día, preciosa" (Morning, gorgeous) He mumbles, one of his arms wrapped around you as he hugs your side with his lips against your temple and staying there.

"Still feeling sleepy?" He nods humming and inhaling your shampoo scent "Why don't you go upstairs then, vida? I can go to you once breakfast it's ready" He shook his head

"You know I can't sleep without you in my arms" You smile softly before lifting your head, making him open his eyes and look down at you

"It'll be only for a few minutes" You whisper so it's just the two of you when he shakes his head -no- leaning once again to give your forehead a kiss and then he went a bit further down to your lips and kissed you softly. "Amor, go"

"You can go with him, Y/N/N" Fer says coming up to you "I can handle this"

"No, don't worry. I'm almost done"

"Go, hija" Rosy spoke up "You must be tired as well, you just came from a flight a few hours ago"

"I'm good, I promise. Let me just finish this"

"Hijo" (Son) Fernando said looking at Pedri, who just chuckled and grabbed you by the back of your thighs

You dropped the knife and the onion in the counter, letting a small yell out "¡Ahh Pedri! Fernando, Rosy; I want to help!"

"You already helped us, bonita" (Pretty) Fernando said

"But I love doing that type of salad, please!"

"I'll do it" Fer smiled

"Make sure to add mustard and a bit of sugar, please!" You raise your voice as Pedri pulled the two of you out of the kitchen "You're mean"

"I just want my girlfriend, too much to ask?"

"No" You kissed his cheek "You were going to have me after helping your parents, now they'll think bad of me"

"Preciosa, we've been together for almost three years now, they absolutely love you, they could never think bad of you" Pedri opened the door to his room, letting you in and closing the door on him "You're their daughter, now" He said now on the bed, covering the both of you with the blankets.

"Is my food that bad?" You ask

"Nena" (Baby) "Stop that. They absolutely love and adore you and your skills" He said dropping a kiss to your temple.

You smiled "Wanna know something?" You whisper

"What's up?"

"I really love you giving me forehead Kisses. They're my favorite" You say feeling your cheeks grow red

"Are they?" You nod embarrassed hiding your face into his neck. You feel and hear Pedri's giggle "Don't be embarrassed"

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not! I just think you're way too cute" He kissed your temple one more time

"Pedriiii" You whine

"Wanna know something too?" He pulls his face away, so you're looking straight into his big brown eyes

"What?"

"I love giving you forehead kisses" He smiles "They're my favorite type of kiss too" You smile at him, both of you lean in and soon your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss. "I love you"

"I love you too, Pepi"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela (if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!) also @luvgavii 🫶🏻✨ a small birthday gift, hope you like it!

[orangeheliophile]

When he gets jealous

Warnings: Jealous broccoli boy, cursing, slight angst, and slight possessive/protective Izuku, Izuku still has bits of OFA (he doesn't lose it fully.)

Contains: fluff, crack, comfort, oblivious reader. One-sided pining, childhood best friends trope, hopeless romantic Izuku, Third year!AU.

A/n: writers block is so bad and I genuinely wanna write😭 I hope this makes up for the zero activity. But fr I genuinely don't know what this is lmao.

There were three things Izuku did to make sure everyone knew you were his.

Izuku would always get more clingy whenever he was jealous.

He trusted you with every fiber in his being. He just didn't trust the guys who would stare at you as if you were a five course meal, as if you were only an object to own. He hated those types of men.

So when he noticed how you seemed slightly uncomfortable with how the boy was looking at you, he quiete literally swept you off your feet and flew away with you cradled in his arms.

You were perplexed by the sudden action, arms flying around his neck as he used his quirk to fly away. The greenette gave you a sweet grin, holding you tightly against him as you thanked him for helping you; a cute blush on your cheeks that made his grin wider and his heart race even more.

You'd think that once you reached the dorms, he would put you down, but he didn't. Instead, he carried you bridal style to his dorm to hang out.

Hanging out with Izuku was a normal thing. But him refusing to let you go while clinging onto you like a koala? That didn't happen very often.

You sighed, a small smile on your face as Izuku rambled about his hero training with All Might while sitting on your lap. You would think that the gender roles would normally be reversed, but the green-haired boy didn't give a single fuck. He got to be in your personal space and was making sure you couldn't move from your spot by pinning you with his weight.

But you didn't really care that much, he was like a heavy teddy bear and you were really comfortable in your spot on his bed.

The next few days consisted of him holding your hand, giving you I love you so much please marry me platonic kisses on the cheek, forehead, and hands. He would literally become your backpack as you carried him around the entire day. Piggyback rides were normal between you two, anyway.

Overall Izuku would initiate more physical touch in hopes of being able to be closer to you.

Another thing Izuku likes to do when he gets jealous is by having you wear his clothes and colors.

It could be wearing matching bracelets with your favorite colors, borrowing his All Might themed shirts and hoodies, or it could even be him stealing your shirts, too. The last one always made you giggle because of how much your best friend liked your fashion taste.

It totally wasn't because he was desperately in love with you and wanted to be seen as yours.

There was another tactic Izuku liked to use, and it was more of a fun game, really. He would paint different shades of green onto your skin.

You both would have a great time, trying to paint on each other's skin while giggling and feeling ticklish by the brush and paint. You would do flowers, mini All Might faces, and you once painted a giraffe on Izuku's back.

The both of you would burst into fits of laughter the entire time, and Izuku decided to paint his name onto your arms. His first name on your left bicep, and his last name on your right. The greenette cackled and blushed when you flexed your arms at his finished work.

These two things were very sweet and endearing, showing how much Izuku cared for you and how he didn't want any other man to think they had a chance. They both worked well and made other guys back off, but when they didn't work, well...

Izuku had to resort to the third way. And that was only when a guy was starting to really piss him off.

We all know how observant Izuku is, and how he writes down everything in his journals to learn more about something. Izuku had somewhat a bad habit of being obsessive, and whenever you were involved,

Izuku made sure that everyone knew what was his.

You would never be thought of as an object or thing to Izuku, but the way he slammed a man onto the concrete floor when he tried to touch you, would seem otherwise.

Emerald eyes were wide with fury, the energy of One For All crackling around him. The man on the floor gasped for air, feeling threatened by the supposed savior of the Paranormal Liberation war.

Blood was dripping from the greenette's knuckles, staring down codly at the scum at his feet. The scum who had the guts to try and take advantage of you.

Y/n.

His y/n.

Izuku sneered in disgust, kicking the man in the gut as he flew back, wincing in pain as he was in shock.

"I'll make sure you won't touch her ever again." Izuku rasped, a crazed smile on his face as he knelt down to the man cowering in fear.

After the war, not only has he almost lost his quirk, Kacchan, his friends, he almost lost you. The doctors said you almost didn't make it, and something in Izuku just snapped.

The green-haired boy began to hyperventilate, panicking at the thought of living in a world without you, in a world where you weren't his.

And some asshole thought he could take advantage of you?

Izuku laughed, crazily as he looked borderline insane to the bloodied man on the floor. The man froze, shivering in fear when he made eye contact with the greenette. There was a glint in those cold emerald eyes, something feral as Izuku stood up, a smile no longer on his face as he clenched his fists. The energy of One For All becoming more powerful as he raised his fist.

Midoriya Izuku would die for anyone, but he would only kill for the people he loved. You were on the top of that list.

Blood-curling screams were heard in that dark alleyway as Izuku beat the man to death, his fists coated in blood as there was a psychopathic look in his eye the entire time.

Love was a powerful emotion.

"Hey, Izuku! I didn't know you would be back so early!" You chirped, going on to hug your best friend, wrapping your arms around his neck as he giggles, giving you the sweetest smile with hearts in his eyes.

Izuku relaxes into the hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he buries his face into your neck; sighing as he inhales your comforting scent. The one he's secretly addicted to.

"Yeah, I thought it would take longer because of the traffic, but I'm glad I got those... errands done tonight." Izuku mumbles, a cold glint in his eyes as he stares at the floor, a grin growing on his lips at the memory of dumping the body into someplace where nobody would care to look.

Izuku pulled away a bit, flashing you a lovesick smile as his pupils seemed to have hearts in them when you looked at him. Scarred hands cup your cheeks as you smile and giggle when he presses platonic kisses all over your face.

"Izu! Cut it o-out!" You laugh, feeling the pads of his fingers tickle your neck, leaving you gasping for air but leaving you with the biggest smile.

He could feel his heart leap at the sight.

The green-haired boy giggles, pulling back as he grabs your hand and leads you towards the couch to watch a movie.

Izuku had three ways to deal with jealously, but you were always the person that made him feel better afterwards.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Your Period ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,060ish

Summary: Logan learns to handle your period.

Notes: Hope this lives up to what people want! This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

Logan never really paid much attention to your period until the two of you moved out of the mansion. The first time it happened, Logan came home from work to the smell of blood. It immediately had him on high alert.

“Y/N?” He called, looking around the house for you. “Y/N!”

“In here!” You groaned.

Logan rushed into the bedroom to find you curled up in a ball. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Logan. I’m fine.”

“I smell blood. You most definitely aren't fine.” He came around and sat next to you on the bed. “Are you hurt? Did someone show up here? Where’s the blood—“

You laughed, hand coming up to his arm. “Logan, I can’t believe you haven't sensed it before.”

“Sensed what?”

“I’m on my period.”

“Your… period?”

“Yes. It’s something that happens once a month. Can be painful, lasts for a few days. Can effect—“

“Your moods.”

“Bingo.” You whined, curling up further, as a few cramps rippled through.

“What can I do?”

“It’s fine, Logan. I can handle it. I have for years now.”

“You sure?”

You nodded against the pillow. “I’m sure. Just give me a few minutes and I can get up and make dinner.”

“No. I can handle it.”

“You sure? I can—��

“Let me do this.”

~~~

You ended up falling asleep while Logan got dinner ready. He put together dinner, placed it on a tray, and headed for the bedroom. He hated the idea of waking you, but you needed to eat. Logan placed the tray on the nearby dresser before going over to you. His hand ran up your arm and neck until he was cupping your cheek, thumb gently rubbing over it.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he said gently. You groaned as you began to wake. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay, let me go to the bathroom first,” you mumbled.

Logan helped you up as you were still sleepy. A red spot caught his eye on the bed, causing his eyes to snap to the sweats you were wearing. “Honey, you, uh, you—“

“I’m sorry,” your emotions got the better of you, causing you to tear up.

“Hey, no, stop that,” Logan moved to stand in front of you, holding onto your shoulders. "I'll throw the bedding in the wash, you take a shower."

“But dinner—"

“Can wait.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I’ll set out some clothes, go.” 

He turned you around and guided you into the bathroom. He slipped out, leaving the door ajar behind him so that he could have easier access to you. Logan moved quickly, grabbing a new pair of underwear for you, a pair of his sweatpants, and one of his shirts. He snuck them into the bathroom before taking care of the bedding and replacing it with clean ones. 

The shower turned off soon after the bed had been refreshed, allowing Logan a few more moments to set up dinner on the bed. He was finishing setting dinner up when you exited the bathroom. You shuffled over to Logan, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“Thank you,” you grumbled.

Logan chuckled as you clung to him, preventing him from trying around. “No need to thank me, sweetheart. It’s part of my job.”

~~~

A few months later, Logan was about to head home from work when he received a call from you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Logan greeted.

“Hey, babe,” you replied. “Can you swing by the store and pick up some things for me?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“I need ice cream, chips, as well as tampons and pads with wings.”

“Is it already that time again?” He chuckled.

“Yes, and I’m having some serious cravings, so please hurry.”

“You got it. I'll be home soon with the needed supplies.”

“Thanks! Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Logan reached the store, quickly grabbing several different ice cream and chip flavors. With some trepidation, Logan made his way to the feminine care aisle. He grabbed a few boxes of tampons that he recognized before pausing in front of the shelves of pads. He didn't recognize any of them. Your request for pads with wings came back into his mind. Did you mean pads with wings or pads with chicken wings? You did say that you were having cravings. Maybe that is what you wanted for dinner?

Logan grabbed two different types of pads, one with wings and one without, from the same brand of tampons. Before he checked out, Logan grabbed some fresh, hot chicken wings from the store and headed home.

“I’m back!” Logan exclaimed, entering the house with all the groceries. He headed to the kitchen, where you met him.

“Thanks, honey," you kissed his cheek as he set the items on the counter. You looked at the items, quickly noticing the different types of pads and the container of chicken wings. “Logan, what's this?” You tapped on the container of wings.

“I didn’t know if you wanted pads with wings or pads with wings. You said that you were having cravings. and I didn't know if chicken wings were one of your cravings.” You couldn't help but break out into a fit of laughter. “If you don’t want them, I can—“

"No, no, no! Everything is perfect. You did great.”

“You sure?"

“Positive."

~~~

Another time, your cramps were really getting the best of you. You tried to use your powers as a heating pad, but it wasn't working. Logan could tell that you were in pain and was struggling to watch you. 

“You need to tell me what to do, sweetheart," Logan pled, moving from one of his feet to another as he stood next to you. You were curled up on the bed, whining in pain. “I have to do something.”

“Just… hold me,” you requested.

“Do you want me in front or behind?”

“Behind.”

Logan quickly came around the bed and crawled in behind you. “Do you want me anywhere specific?”

“I need your hands.” 

Logan wrapped his arms around you. You took his hands and guided them to your lower stomach. The warmth of his hands immediately began to help you. You sighed, relaxing into him.

“You good?” Logan whispered, wanting to make sure he was actually helping.

“Getting there,” you replied quietly. “Just don’t move.”

He pressed a kiss under your ear. “Not planning on it, sweetheart.”

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XXIV)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader

warnings: yàndèré, Dàrk thèmès, Fòrcèd màrrìàgè, Tàlk òf vìrgìnìty ànd màrrìàgè cònsùmmàtìòn, Gòssìpìng, Còld béhàvìòr, Ùnhéàlthỳ rèlàtìònsìp, Dèprèssìòn.

note. besties I hope you enjoy this, The reason I’m updating this more often now is because I want to finish the story as soon as I can and please share your feedback because it’s really important to me. I love you guys enjoy! Ash I finished this chapter just for you x

series masterlist

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @sprinkleoftee @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @bangtannoonalvg @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @lanalanexpjm @namjooncrabs @shadowmoon21 @kookunot @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @silversparkles11 @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie (I can’t tag anymore people, it’s full 😭😭)

•••

You wake up, and the first thing you notice is the absence of him-

Jungkook. The bed is cold, empty. You feel the space beside you, where his body should have been, yet it remains untouched.

Why is he the first thing on your mind when you wake up?

You were the one who sent him away last night so you should be happy about it, as you rub your blurry eyes, your vision finally clears.

The sheets are crisp and neat, too neat, too clean.

As you sit up, the ladies-in-waiting enter quietly, their movements practiced. They approach the bed, and immediately, you see them take note of the immaculate sheets, the lack of any sign of what should have been..

A mark of possession, a proof of consummation.

“Good Morning to Our Lady Jeon.”

A sense of dread creeps up when they refer to you as a Jeon.

“Lady yn,” Na-yeon calls, her voice soft yet commanding, “it’s time to prepare for your duties as the emperor’s wife. The king will be expecting you.”

You nod, but you can’t shake the guilt settling in your chest. You already know what they’re whispering about. The sheets, they’re clean. There’s no sign of the king’s touch, no evidence of the night that was supposed to bond you together.

One of the maids, her voice barely above a whisper, says, “She wasn’t touched last night. Look at that. There’s no mark, no blood.”

Another one replies in a hushed tone, “No sign of anything.”

They probably know that you can hear them, but do they give a fuck about it? No.

So what? you want to scream but you can’t

You feel the weight of their words, like they’re pressing down on you, suffocating you. You know they’re gossiping, but you can’t stop the flush of embarrassment that creeps up your neck. The sheets, the clean, untouched sheets, they feel like a reflection of your rejection. You had turned him away last night. You had rejected him. And now, the palace is talking.

You don’t regret rejecting him, but there is a guilt that is so heavy.

You are undeniably embarrassed.

The guilt tightens your chest. It feels as though the weight of the entire palace is on your shoulders.

You didn’t want to, but it happened.

You couldn’t let yourself go through with it. Not like that. Not when you know what kind of man he is.

He is a monster. He’s someone who killed your father and ruined your entire fucking life. How could you let someone like him touch you?

You hate him so much but then why didn’t you feel the satisfaction when he had walked away from you last night leaving you untouched?the shame of turning him away is like a shadow following you now.

The ladies continue their work, preparing you for the day ahead, but the whispers echo in your mind, too loud, too real.

You were the one who rejected him last night, so why do you feel embarrassed? He’s the one who should feel embarrassed… why are they gossiping about it like it’s a big deal? You will never let someone like him touch you anyways.

So why does it feel like there is a heavy burden on your heart and why do you feel so embarrassed about still being a virgin?

They dress you in your royal attire, the weight of the silk robes feeling heavier than ever. The red and gold, the fine embroidery—it should feel like power, but instead, it feels like a prison.

You feel like a fucking puppet

Finally, they place the pin in your hair. It’s subtle but significant. You immediately feel the burden of the pen on you because you realize that you are now actually the emperor’s wife.

You’re still not queen yet and you hope that you won’t be, but this pin indicates that you are married to the emperor of Goryeo.

Emperor Jeon Jungkook. A.k.a. your worst nightmare.

You are the emperor’s wife, but not yet queen. It’s a constant reminder of your place, of how far you are from the woman you want to be, and how close you are to the role you’re forced to play.

They leave you alone with your thoughts, but you can’t escape them. You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to connect with the woman you see with the woman you feel like inside. A pawn. A possession.

The sound of tea and breakfast wafts into the room, but it feels like a distant, empty thing. Time to face him,

The emperor awaits.

“My Lady. Come on let’s go into the dining hall where you will be joined by the emperor Jeon.”

Looks like you’re not gonna be able to eat because whenever you’re in his presence, you feel sick to your stomach.

But it’s not like you have any choice.

•••

You sit at the long, opulent dining table, the sound of footsteps echoing from behind you.

The breakfast spread is grand & delicate plates of rice, fruit, meat, and steamed buns, the aroma of the dishes wafting through the air. Yet, all of it feels distant, as though it’s meant for someone else. The golden utensils, the fine porcelain cups

It’s not meant for you.

none of it feels real. Not when you know what hangs between you and Jungkook.

He enters the room quietly, his presence is as always commanding.

His tall frame fills the doorway, and despite the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the large windows, he seems to cast a shadow.

His dark curly long hair is perfectly styled, his robes a deep crimson, embroidered with gold threads, marking him as the emperor. He is a king, but right now, he looks like someone out of reach, someone untouchable.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you as he takes his seat across from you, his gaze cold. There’s no warmth in his look, no softness.

The air between you feels thick with tension, and you know, without a doubt, it’s because of last night.

You meet his gaze, but the words you want to speak catch in your throat. You can feel his anger, simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He’s holding back, but just barely. His hands rest on the table, his fingers clenched tightly around the delicate porcelain tea cup in front of him.

“You know,” Jungkook begins, his voice low, almost mocking, “last night was supposed to be different. I thought…” His voice trails off for a moment as he takes a sip of tea, his eyes never leaving you. “I thought I might have finally gotten what I’ve been waiting for. But you, you rejected me.”

He scoffs.

“You know? You look so beautiful. But it’s useless. Your beauty is useless.”

His words cut through the air like a knife, and your chest tightens. You can feel the weight of his gaze, his cold stare, as he leans back slightly in his chair, studying you.

“I don’t understand,” he continues, his voice is turning sharper. “You’ve been in this palace for a year. You’ve been living in luxury, waiting for this moment. Yet, when it comes, you turn away from me? What makes you think you can do that, hm?”

You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts. It’s hard to speak when the tension in the room is so thick, so suffocating. You know you can’t apologize, not with the pride he carries. But you can’t keep quiet either.

His presence is so overwhelming and maybe the guilt in your heart is also weighing on you.

“I didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a sharp gesture of his hand, signaling that he doesn’t want to hear your excuses.

He just dismissed you like you mean nothing.

“You didn’t what?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t want me? The man who made you his wife?” His lips curl into a cruel smile.

He thinks that you are pathetic.

“You really think you can just refuse me and walk away from it all? There’s no escaping me, not anymore. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not.”

The words hit you like a slap, and you look away, unable to meet his eyes. The food in front of you suddenly loses its appeal, the steam rising from the rice feeling like it’s choking you.

You want to speak up, to explain yourself, but you know it won’t change anything. He won’t listen. Not now, not after what happened last night.

Jungkook leans forward, his eyes narrowing as if he’s waiting for you to speak, to beg, to plead for his forgiveness. He’s enjoying this, you realize.

Enjoying the control he has over you, enjoying the way you’re forced to sit there and endure his words.

“Well?” He presses, the coldness in his voice now unmistakable. “Are you going to explain yourself? Or are you just going to sit there and pretend everything is fine?”

You clench your fists in your lap, the urge to stand up and leave the room almost overwhelming. But you can’t. You can’t leave. Not when the emperor is sitting right in front of you, and you know the consequences of defying him.

Instead, you hold your breath and force yourself to speak but no words come out.

His expression darkens, and he leans forward, his eyes locked on yours, piercing and dark.

“You’re my wife. But you are one ungrateful woman, and if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t.”

The words make your skin itch, your chest is tightening with a mixture of fear and frustration.

You didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’s the emperor. He’s always had power. He’s never had to ask for anything, he just takes it.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be forced into this life,” you mutter, barely able to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “To be used as a pawn in your game.”

His eyes flash with anger, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to snap. But instead, he leans back in his chair again, his jaw clenched tight.

“You don’t get to speak to me like that,” he warns, his voice dangerously calm. “You may be my wife, but I will not tolerate disrespect. Not from you. Not from anyone.”

“Especially not from you yn.”

The room grows silent, the only sound the clinking of silverware and the soft hum of the palace outside. You know he’s not done with you yet. This conversation is far from over. But for now, he sits in silence, his anger barely contained.

You don’t know what to expect next. Will he lash out? Will he punish you? You’re not sure, but deep down, you know one thing—

This is only the beginning of the torture that you’re going to be facing for the rest of your life.

“Fuck.. you just know how to ruin my fucking mood, but there are other important things that I need to make sure that you know.” he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his simmering anger down.

Jungkook looks at you with his unyielding cold gaze.

“ the king of China, along with his daughter will be arriving to our empire in a few days. They have started their journey through ship so they shall be here in sometime. They are coming here to congratulate us on our marriage and maybe some political alliances but that is none of your concern.”

His tone is mocking.

“What should be your concern is that you’re going play the perfect wife in front of them, and if you don’t, my love?” he smiles, sickly at you.

“There will be severe consequences. Because you don’t seem to be wanting my love. So instead, I’m going give you my anger and my hatred.”

Those words of his send shivers down your spine because he says them such practiced ease. And what’s even more unsettling is the fact that his eyes seem to be empty and cold.

[luciferanalyzestar]

Live reaction to Mastermind, ughhhhh.

Spoilers of course.

Gross.

I like this design; she's cute. Shout out to the character designers.

Satan's design is like whatever. Those imp-like horns on the top of his head looks silly. Just more fucking red on top of red. Loveart23's Satan design for her re imagined is peaked.

This shit is fucking gross, please STOP!

This design is bad too and Ozzie's outfit is hideous.

Bee's outfit here is 100% better than her main one.

See Mammon, no one wants you because you are fat and that's gross!!!! >:(((((

Notice that Mammon is the only sin that is overweight and the only one confirmed to be on the asexual spectrum. Levi's design is horrible. Those colors do not go together.

This line would be amazing if Loona wasn't a whole ass adult. This is so melodramatic I am giggling. "I love you guys." Yeah, you threaten to sexual assault them both to Mooxie and stalked them back in season 1. These characters are not "found family". This is the quality of this show now, just ass.

I skipped the song; I'm not listening to that shit. I'm tired of hearing Stolas singing about Blitz, This is a small smile on my face, you know why just look like my username.

YES SATAN!! This shit got me laughing, why he is crying over Stolass?? Fuck him, he is a fetishizer.

This is the FIRST time Stella and Via have interacted....we are at the end of season two. Look guy, she's being EVIL!!!!! and doesn't care about her daughter at all. *eye roll*

What does Stolas even do?? We never seen him do his royal duties, just fucking around with IMP or he is in his mansion.

You want to fuck your sister.

GET IT!! HE EATS A LOT!!!! MAMMON IS FAT!!!!! ISN'T THAT GROSSS!!!!!???????

I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE IN MY WALL. Viv will never beat the fatphobia allegations. Let fat character exists without doing shit like this.

I notice that all or most of rail thin characters are rarely seen eating food but Mammon and Adam who are fat eat food on the regular.

I'm sending the fandom there too. My new favorite minor character! Thank you, janitor imp. You're a real one for this.

She better not assault Blitz every again.

Why is Blitz bathing him??? This is giving me bad vibes like why????

DROWN!!! Please do us a favor and DROWN!!!

Rating: 2/10

I don't care about Blitz, Stolas, and their relationship. It is boring and bland like dry moldy toast. It being the main "appeal" to Helluva is an awful choice, no one can tell me otherwise. This is why the views have been dropping since the released of Full Moon. The shippers are this show's life support and if they ever become unhappy, this show is tank.

This episode barely kept my attention unlike the previous one. I even paused it to eat some Hawaiian Rolls, and I had more fun eating bread than watching this episode.

The only thing that kept me interested was the small mentions of Lucifer. If did not have a hyper fixation on him, I would probably not finish the episode.

The crew hyping up Vassago by putting him in that pride parade print and other merch is funny because he does nothing. He has no personality out of being Spanish. If something is hyped by Viv or anyone else, it's going to be lame.

We know season three will have more focus on Ars Goetia so he will probably be Stolas' future Latin lover or even worse, a love triangle between him, Stolas, and Blitz. Vassago and Stolas should get together, they both have "ass" in their names.

Viv said this episode is one of her favorites and is self-indulgent. Self-indulgent where??? This is just your standard season two epsiode of Helluva. I thought it was going to be more of a musical episode.

Anyway, this episode is bad in my opinion.

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Are your requests open? Could I ask for Optimus dating a human for the first time? SFW and/or N$FW is ok ♥️

Since you didn't specify, I'm going for a vaguely G1/Prime vibe. Forgive errors, i typed this on my phone since I'm visiting fam for holidays.

He was pretty slick about it, asking you to accompany him on a scouting mission. Prime doesn't scout. But all you thought was how nice it would be to spend some time with the big boss himself. After all, you both had confessed attraction to each other. With him admitting an odd interest in you, and you letting it slip he was rather nice to look at. Even if nothing came out of it, it was nice to clear the air. And the fact he didn't avoid you after meant more than you could say. He was still nice to look at.

The sound of his engine and the radio mixed with your humming. You didn't know the lyrics, but the tune was close enough. Sitting in the passenger seat while his holoform occupied the driver's. It still felt odd to talk to it... him, through it, so you stared out the window when you did.

"What are we on the lookout for?" You ask, glancing at mountains in the distance. He was quiet. Longer than any leader-like contemplation you were used to. "Prime?"

His voice interrupts the music, "I have not been entirely honest with you y/n." He sounds remorseful, and you feel a clench in your heart, "we are not here to scout, nor are we here for any sort of mission."

You fidget with the edge of the seat. What could have Prime lying and feeling so bad about it?

"After our conversation the other day, i did some thinking-"

Oh shit. Did you make him uncomfortable?

"-I believe it best to-"

"Prime, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. It just slipped out." You interrupt, trying to smooth over whatever wrinkles you caused.

"Please allow me to finish." He says with that stern but patient tone. The engine shifts, and he pulls onto a side road, "I wish to apologize for not acting sooner, I simply wished to ensure I moved forward properly. I believe the next step on earth is a date to explore our mutual interests?"

A what?

He continued talking about the research he did and how it was similar to cybertronian customs, but it seemed to move faster in comparison. You listened, still processing what this meant.

"Wait... so..." You put a hand to your face as you focus, "this isn't a scouting mission. It's a date?"

"Correct." Prime affirms He turns off again to another side road. This one flanked by trees that get more and more dense, "I apologize for the deception, and for the lack of activity. It's hard to find such things to accommodate our coupling."

His choice of the word coupling made you chuckle, and cheeks go warm, "N-no Prime this... is pretty clever, actually." Glancing at the driver seat, you make a face, "but for the love of god, please get rid of that thing."

You can feel the rumble of laughter in his engine before it flickers and dissipates.

Prime is the kind of bot to really want to get to know you. And you love the idea of one on one time with him. A long drive in solitude is the best way to get to know each other. Open up about some things. Share hopes and what you would want from such a strange relationship.

The nerves subsided quickly. It felt natural. it felt good to talk to him. It felt like he listened and was honest when he spoke.

He stops for you to grab some food, seeing as you both got lost in the conversation and were out far longer than expected. Optimus apologized for not thinking of that even after all the research.

You lean against the window, smiling at the stars. He's telling you a story about how he once woke from recharge to find energon stacked in front of his door. The deep voice lulling you to sleep. It felt appropriate for him to take the long way back.

N$fw vauge at most.

Perhaps this date turned into another. And another. A date here and there. He thought it cute when you kissed his dash before getting out of the cab. NO, you absolutely would not kiss the holoform, but caved when he would use it to hold your hand as you got out of the cab. Only on the cheek, of course.

You would call Prime a gentleman, but there was no missing the way his engine sounds like it stalls when you sit in the passenger seat; asking if this date was when you should invite him inside. His voice sputters about more research and compatibility.

"Shame, you don't have a bed in the back prime." You say while one hand runs down your body, "could really put it to use now."

You notice the way he speeds up as you continue touching yourself, engine thundering down the road. Hopefully, there aren't any state troopers.

There is a shyness to your actions, hoping he doesn't dislike this. Not to mention how odd it is to perform with no audience. Not that you want the holoform now. It would kill the mood more than anything. He can sense your body heating up, and each time you trip over your words, trying to be sexy, his engine purrs. Slowly unbuttoning your top has him wishing he could transform and feel you with more than the sensors in his cab.

"You're beautiful." He says as you shimmy out of your pants. The human form was alien , yet familiar. Soft forms on a Cybertronian like frame. "Beautiful..." he says as you part your thighs and lips. "Beautiful." He whispers when you bring yourself to the edge. That deep voice confessed how he had thought about this. How you would look. What he wants to try. Promising it to be his hand, somehow, to bring you here next time.

But first he needs to look into a new altform. Somthing with a bed in the back.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Glocking Out

Friday night should mean a cozy night in with a TV show and a bowl of ice cream. But instead, here I am, working late in the office, trying to finish a project to deliver to my boss by Monday morning. There’s no one else in the office, and when I finally finish up nearing midnight, the entire corporate building is empty, lights long dimmed.

I drag myself out of the building, ready to get home and collapse into bed to sleep for the entire weekend. The click of my heels is the only sound that rings through the night as I exit the elevator into the parking garage and let out a tired sigh into the quiet air.

I click my car fob and open my trunk as I approach the car, tossing my purse into the back and digging around to look for a pair of slippers to change into. I’m absolutely too tired to make the drive home in heels and the idea of fuzzy slippers around my feet is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

While I’m still bent over, buried head-first in my trunk, I suddenly feel a presence behind me. Before I can react, I feel the cold, hard press of metal against my back and the ominous click of a gun’s safety coming off. I freeze in terror and my throat pushes out a pathetic whimper of fear.

I hear a deep laugh echo around me and a man’s voice, “Stay still, princess. I’d hate to paint the inside of your trunk with your blood.” A big, warm hand presses against my spine, pushing me even further into the trunk while the gun digs uncomfortably against me.

I let out a choked gasp, “What do you want? Take my purse! I have cash, take whatever you want, please don’t hurt me!” My voice is shaky and I can feel tremors of fear wrack my body.

He laughs again. “Oh, princess, I don’t want money. But I will be taking whatever I want from you,” he purrs, the innuendo clear in his voice. His hand leaves my back to run down my body and he grips my ass hard before landing a harsh spank against me. I whine out a plea, “No! Please! Please, just let me go!”

“No can do, princess. A pretty little thing like you, all alone, in the middle of the night with no one around. It’s like you’re beckoning to me,” he growls as his hand continues to knead my ass over the skirt I’m wearing. Tears are in my eyes now as I stare blankly into my trunk, my face pressed against the rough car trunk mat.

Moments later, he threads a hand through my hair and grips me hard, pulling me out of the trunk and onto my feet. He spins me around and for the first time, I get a good look at him.

He’s huge, in both size and height, his massive frame towering over me. Even without the gun, he could probably break me easily, and that thought sends more fear slithering down my spine. His eyes are filled with a sadistic gleam that makes me want to curl up and hide. A harsh yank from his hand in my hair makes me cry out in pain and he leads me to the passenger side of the car.

“Get in the car and don’t do anything stupid. I’d hate to have to kill you before we have any real fun,” he says menacingly. I slide into the car on shaky legs and he slams the door shut. He makes his way to the driver side and without another word, he peels out of the parking garage.

A little while later, he pulls the car off the main road onto a tiny trail that I’d never even noticed before. Several minutes of random turns and paths in the pitch black forest that I would never be able to remember or identify bring us to a tiny little cabin. It would be quaint if it weren’t inhabited by the psychopath holding me at gunpoint.

He drags me out of the car, the gun never leaving my side and we step into the cabin. He herds me into the bedroom and the door clicks shut behind us. The room is awash in a soft yellow light and decorated in soft fall tones that, in any other circumstance, would be incredibly romantic.

He smiles with a sparkle in his terrifyingly sadistic eyes and a shiver runs down my spine. “Strip for me,” he says as he steps back to sit at the edge of the bed, gun still leveled at me.

I shake my head desperately, “No, please! Please, anything but that, please!”

He laughs at me, “Come on, pretty princess, I’m not a patient man. Either you strip for me or it gets ugly.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them back. I glance towards the door, I’m closer to it than he is, maybe if I can surprise him, I can get out of the room before he gets a chance to stop me.

He sees my line of thinking and chuckles again. “You might outrun me but you can’t outrun a bullet, princess.”

His words land like a punch to my stomach and I look back at him with defeat. My shaky hands move to the buttons of my blouse as I comply with his initial request. He smiles.

I pull off my top and slide it off my shoulders before going to unzip my skirt and stand before him in my bra, panties, and stockings.

“Bra off, leave the rest on,” he says, his voice deep with desire. “Come here,” he commands, gesturing towards the floor between his legs with the gun.

I unclasp the bra and let it drop to the floor, where I fix my gaze. I pad towards him and stand in front of him for a moment before I lower myself down to my knees, my form fitting into his spread legs.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, princess. Such a good girl,” his deep voice sends shivers down my spine. I keep my gaze on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with him. He doesn’t like that.

I feel the cold metal of the gun slide beneath my chin and I gasp as he raises my head with his gun. My wide eyes meet his and I see the satisfaction in his gaze as it locks onto mine. He leaves the gun against me as he jerks his chin downwards. “Take my cock out, princess.”

I glance down and see the outline of his hardness pressing against his pants. He looks huge. He sucks his teeth at me, “Come on, don’t keep me waiting now.”

My fingers shake as I undo his belt and the fastening on his pants before I reach in and pull his hard cock out. I let out a quiet whine when I see it. He is huge, tip already leaking precum and an angry shade of red that looks so mean. I shouldn’t be turned on by my attacker’s cock but I absentmindedly lick my lips and I catch the leer on his face that makes my thighs clench.

“You know what to do, princess,” he purrs, tangling his free hand into my hair. I give in and lean down to run my tongue gently along the vein that runs through his cock. He tastes divine, the clean smell of his skin combined with the warmth and weight of his cock in my mouth making my brain go fuzzy. I hear him groan above me, “That’s it, suck my cock, princess.”

I give him a few more kitten licks before I wrap my lips fully around the crown of his cock and suck. “Fuck,” his groan is guttural and his grip tightens on my hair. I moan softly around his cock and I feel him twitch in my mouth. I breathe in through my nose as I swallow more of his cock down my throat.

“Fuck, that’s it, good girl. Take my cock down your throat,” he groans and his fingers dig harshly into my scalp. I slowly work my way back up his cock and set a smooth rhythm, bobbing my head up and down and wrapping my hand around what doesn’t fit into my mouth. There’s a pleasant haze that surrounds me right now, his cock in my mouth and his fingers in my hair. I squirm a little on my knees, my pussy clenching as warmth settles into my core.

Suddenly, he yanks me off his cock without warning. I gasp and look up at him. “I want you to ride me,” he says, smirking at me and gesturing toward the bed with his gun. The gun that I’d almost forgotten about. Seeing it now sends another shock of fear through my body, pushing away some of the arousal from earlier.

He lays back onto the bed, sprawled out like a king, hard cock jutting out from between his legs. I absentmindedly clench my thighs together and I know he noticed because he laughs. “Come on, princess. I know you want to.”

I stand and slide my panties off before slipping onto the bed, slinging a leg over him to get situated. He stays still, watching me with a predatory look in his eye, gun now retrained on me. “That’s it, princess,” he purrs as I settle myself over him.

“Is your pretty pussy wet for me?” He asks. I want to lie and say no but it’s no use, I’m so wet I’m dripping all over him. I whimper and nod and he laughs again. “Better put that pussy to use then, come on, ride me, princess.”

I brace my hands against his chest and lower myself onto his cock. The delicious stretch of him filling me makes me whine and I dig my fingers into his chest. He moans at the feeling of my wet heat surrounding him and his hips come up to meet mine, forcing the last bit of his cock into me.

He feels so fucking good inside of me and every single cell of my body wants more. I let out a low moan as my hips start to move, every single movement making his cock rub up against my g-spot. “That’s it, ride my cock, princess.”

I let out a broken moan as my hips keep up their movements. My back arches and I let my eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the sensations. Suddenly, I feel cold, hard metal brush against my clit and my eyes fly open with a cry.

I look down and my blood freezes when I see him, running the tip of the gun against my clit. He grins up at him, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Don’t stop now, princess. You’re doing so well, I’m gonna help you and play with this little clitty.”

I whimper as he pushes the gun harder against my sensitive, swollen nub, the friction making delicious shivers run up and down my spine.

“Come on, princess. You’re going to cum all over my cock while I rub your clit with my gun,” he says, each pass of the gun over my clit pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm.

The fear and pleasure mix into a dark combination that forces my body higher and higher. I can feel the cold metal of the gun warming against the burning heat of my cunt and every nerve in my body seems to be coiled tight as a spring. My hips are jerkily moving on top of him as I chase my own release.

Suddenly, he moves underneath me and slams him cock deeper into me while holding me down. I shatter with a wail as my pussy clenches around him. I hear his curse as his release quickly follows, his hips never stopping their relentless assault on me and the gun never moving off my clit as he fucks me through my orgasm.

Eventually, he pulls the gun away and I collapse down onto his chest, boneless and limp. I feel his fingers thread through my hair gently and his arm comes up to wrap around my body, keeping me pressed against his chest.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs into my hair as he presses soft kisses into the crown of my head. I make a soft noise back at him and I hear him laugh softly and affectionately.

I stay in his arms a little longer before I raise my head to look at him. “Thank you, honey,” I say before pressing a sweet kiss onto his chest.

He hugs me tighter, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I will say, you were in the office for so long, I was soooo bored waiting for you.”

I giggle at him, “If I’d known you were waiting, I would’ve finished faster.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well I think I did a pretty good job helping you “glock” out.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I choke out a laugh.

“Shut up and sleep.”

—

pls appreciate the title because i thought of it and just had to write something to fit it teehee

[stvrgxsm]

afterglow | joel miller [5k]

“what am i then?” “you’re the only thing worth living for.” or joel is an asshole until he isn't.

c: smut mdni, 18+. angst. abandonment. miscommunication.

a/n: i figured i would put this out here again. please let me know what you loved and what you didn't! enjoy:)

the thing is, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

he is not yours; has never been, will never be. he is completely his own man, and he has never lied to you about that.

but sometimes, when his body curls into yours late at night, and you can feel his breath ghost over your neck– when he tucks his worn boots next to yours under the bed and smiles sheepishly when you point it out– when a woman glares at you and he pulls you closer– sometimes you pretend he’s yours.

of course, all these lovely moments are tempered by his perpetual frown. he always seems to troubled in spirit about something. 

today it was some FEDRA agent overstepping the law and facing no repercussions. yesterday it was tess being cagey about the dropoff for the smuggled contraband. 

joel miller is a bitter man. but sometimes he lets himself soften, and you cling to those moments like a raft in a torrential flood.

you hum as you cook dinner– it makes you feel a little better about life. these days it’s been a struggle to look forward to the next day, the next meal, the next shift. when everything in life just seems to propel your demise, nothing seems worth it.

hence the humming. 

joel isn’t home yet– probably won’t be for a while. he takes extra shifts whenever he can. you’ve learned by now to not expect him home by 5.

you haven’t lived together for very long. when tess started taking on bigger jobs, she insisted she needed a separate space. she got her own apartment, and you took the one she shared with joel. at first, he insisted on taking the couch and letting you have the bedroom, but then it became an issue of too little space. with joel sleeping in your only shared room, neither of you felt comfortable with the other. you fought about it.

after that you took the left side of the bed. 

it’s hard to believe you haven’t known him for that long. you’re a new addition to their team– it’s not longer just him and tess. you don’t join them on smuggling trips, but you like to think you make their lives easier with the soft things you provide for them. like your garden. or dinner.

the timer you set for the chicken dings, and you jump to pull it out of the oven. it’s beautifully cooked; the bread crumbs you’d spread on top had browned just how you wanted. you love this– the playing house. it allows you to feel like all those expensive cooking classes your parents paid for before the outbreak are finally worth something.

the meal is all prepared and set out. now it’s just the wait for joel. he’s usually home by 6:30, so you tell yourself you’ll wait until 6:45 to start eating. he’s told you time and time again not to wait for him.

you glance at the clock. 6:24. it’s not really time for him to be home yet, but it’s getting there. you eye the bottle of red that tess returned from the last trip to bill and frank’s with. you had wanted to share it with joel, but it’s getting late. surely one glass won’t hurt.

you’re tipsy, and the chicken is cold on the counter when you check the time again. 6:48. still not technically unusual. you finish your plate. 

the bottle is half-gone when you finally stumble into bed. your eyes catch the clock again. 8:35. you don’t even register it.

you wake to darkness.

for a moment you lie there, trying to remember why your head hurts so bad. then you remember– the chicken, the wine, joel.

you feel around next to you for his comforting warmth, but there’s nothing there. you sit up. he’s not there. you’re alone.

“joel?” you whisper into the empty apartment.

nothing.

you swing your legs out of bed and stand on unsteady legs. your head still hurts a little, but you weren’t blackout drunk. you can expect a mild hangover, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. 

the clock reads 3:42. even if joel took the late shift, he would be home by now. even he is not so foolish as to think he can risk missing curfew by this much. something must have happened to him. 

it doesn’t even occur to you to wait for him. you’re just grabbing your handgun and stuffing it into the waistband of your pants. the metal is cold against your skin, but you’re so buzzed with adrenaline and worry you barely feel it. you pull on a light sweater and open the door.

he’s not in the hall. he’s not in the stairway.

in fact, you walk the full length of your street before you’re certain he’s not there. you stand alone on the end of the street and sigh, planting your hands on your hips.

at the end of the day, what do you know about joel miller? where would he go in case of an emergency? 

tess, you finally decide. he would go see tess. so off you go, across the QZ, to tess’s apartment. it’s a long walk, but you know the patterns FEDRA follows, and you know where to hide. along the way, you see no one, but you hear lots.

moans, mostly. some singing. crying. the sounds of a broken city. 

tess’s apartment looms before you, and you’re suddenly struck with uncertainty. what if he’s not here? before you can stop yourself, you raise a fist and knock softly. 

tess opens almost instantly, not even looking tired. her blonde hair is pulled sharply away from her forehead, into a bun at the nape of her neck. her brow furrows. “what are you doing here?”

“joel,” you whisper. “is he here?”

she steps out of her apartment and looks left and right. then back at you. she hesitates. “why don’t you come inside?”

“what happened? is he in here?” you ask as you cross her threshold. she closes the door behind you. “tess. where is he?”

she seems almost distracted as she closes all the curtains. “joel. he didn’t come home last night?”

“uh, no. look, should i be worried? i mean, i am worried! where is he?”

tess looks straight at you. “i don’t know. we did a job yesterday. nothing big– just a few pills. he kept talking about you… he was all smiley.” she frowns in thought. “there was one weird thing.”

“yes? what was it?”

“when he dropped off the pills, the FEDRA bastard asked about you.”

you’re taken aback. you don’t interact with any FEDRA officers. “i don’t even know any of them!” you protest, as though she’s accusing you of something. 

“no, i know,” she’s quick to assure you. “it threw us off, too. joel kind of… lost it. i’ve never seen him like that before, and i hope i never do again.”

you hesitate before asking, “what did he do?”

tess grimaces. “let’s just say FEDRA’s down one agent.”

“oh.” you’re breathless for a moment, which confuses you, but you shove it aside. for now, you have to focus on your missing roommate-slash-partner-slash-whatever-you-are. “so where is he?”

“after that, he just ran. i thought he went home. i guess not.”

the worry that sprouted earlier is now blooming fully in your chest. it bursts out of your mouth with every breath, every word. you’re choking on it. 

“where– where might he have gone?”

tess thinks for a moment. “there’s a speakeasy he talks about sometimes. it’s down by the old port. do you know where that is?” you nod. “do you have a gun?” you nod again. “do you want me to go with you?”

“no, no, it’s fine. i’m good at staying out of trouble.” you force a brief smile and start walking towards the door. she follows you out. 

“will i see you tomorrow?” she asks. 

it’s a double-edged question. she’s asking not only about your safety, but also about your allegiance to her and her organization. “yes,” you finally answer. “yes, you will. with joel.”

you share a smile, and then the door is shut and you’re gone. you know exactly which speakeasy tess is talking about. joel has taken you there a few times. you’ve enjoyed it every time, but he likes it more than you. you’re clinging to the hope that he’s there through the short walk, all the way up to when you rap out the code on the door.

you hear a lock unclick. faint music seeps out from under the door. FEDRA must pretend this place doesn’t exist. sometimes they turn a blind eye to something good.

your theory is proven right when you spot several FEDRA agents lounging at the bar. the dim lights help hide the block letters on their uniforms, but it seems you’re looking for trouble tonight. 

your gaze immediately lands on him, and your lungs empty in one relieved gasp.

joel is in a corner, surrounded by his coworkers. he’s smiling. he’s… laughing. his hand grips a beer bottle by the neck, and you shift your weight, flustered against your will by the sight. he doesn’t see you, but in your happiness you don’t register this.

you’re at his table in mere seconds, smiling broadly despite your exhaustion. it’s 4 in the morning, but you couldn’t be happier. 

then his eyes meet yours, and your stomach drops.

“what are you doing here?” 

it’s joel, yes, but something’s different. he’s drunk. that’s the biggest thing. but also, he seems angry. your smile from before is gone, replaced by an angry scowl. one that has never been directed at you before.

you take a step back before you realize what you’re doing. “i… i was worried about you.” your voice sounds so small.

the men sitting around joel laugh. he doesn’t stop them, and your heart twinges in your chest. suddenly the worry from earlier is gone, replaced by a burning anger. it flushes your cheeks, it stains the breaths that spill from your open mouth. you’re blinded by it.

you’re frozen there until he speaks. he holds all the power. 

finally, he looks at you. it’s almost like he’s condescending to you. “get out, little girl,” he says. it’s nothing, it’s not even a real acknowledgement of you. but his voice isn’t slurred, which tells you he hasn’t had as much alcohol as you originally thought.

“what?”

he rolls his eyes. “i said–”

“i know what you said.” you can hardly believe yourself. you can hardly believe joel. he’s never done this kind of thing before. “i waited for you. why didn’t you come home?”

joel shoots you a withering glare. “we’re not family, you know,” he finally says. “you’re a burden. you are a responsibility. i owe you nothing.” he doesn’t spare you a second glance, just turns back to the others at the table and reaches for another bottle.

you stand there for a moment, frozen, but when it becomes clear he’s done with you, you leave. the walk back to your shared apartment feels longer than usual. you’re in your head, trying to figure out a plan. what could you possibly do when joel always has the upper hand?

then it hits you. if joel wants you gone so bad, if he really wants you out, you’ll give it to him. you’ll give it to him until he chokes on it.

that night, you take all of your stuff and bolt.

you’re aware of the time constraints you’re under. joel might be drinking, but he’ll still want to be home for a shower before he goes off to work. it’s a little before 6:00 when you’re finally done. all of your things are stowed in tess’s apartment for now, until you can find your own place. 

you stand there, surveying your new home. it’s bigger than the one you and joel shared, but it’s also not as comforting. you scan the kitchen and living area multiple times before you realize that it feels different because joel’s record player isn’t there. in the place where you had stored his records, tess has a cabinet of clothing. 

you heave a sigh. it’s not perfect, but then again it’s not forever. just until you find an apartment. and a job. preferably one that doesn’t involve seeing joel fucking miller every single fucking day. you wonder if you can include that on the application.

tess is off doing… whatever it is she does during the day. she’s left you with a spare key and instructions to not let anyone in. the day is yours. you spend it sleeping. 

you unpack when you can. it takes a few days to get fully accustomed to the new living space, but that’s normal. you’re in an entirely new home. 

speaking of which… you’re not entirely sure how to thank tess. a card doesn’t seem like enough, but a cake is too much. she’s assured you multiple times that no thanks are necessary, she’s just doing what anyone would do. but you both know she’s not. the boston QZ inhabitants are not known for their generosity or charity. quite the opposite, in fact. before you fell in with tess and joel, you got your ass handed to you pretty regularly.

there’s so much you have to thank her for. you don’t even know where to start.

on your fourth day there, tess doesn’t have any plans. normally she “works”-- whatever that means– but today apparently she’s off. she comes out of her room looking fresh, clean. you begin to suspect she only showers when she has time. 

but now her hair is pulled back into a bun, and her sharp face is softened with some light makeup. “hey,” she greets you with a nod.

“don’t you look nice. where’s the party?”

she laughs good-naturedly. “all dressed up with nowhere to go, i guess.” tess has a glint in her eye. you’re a little suspicious.

“what are you looking at me like that for?”

“no reason.” but she doesn’t stop.

“no seriously, come on.” you rise from the couch, setting aside your knitting. “what are you thinking?”

“i’m thinking you should go out tonight.”

“...oh.”

“with me! we’ll go to some speakeasy and drink cheap liquor that men buy for us. it’ll be fun! plus,” she adds, smiling widely, “you need a rebound.”

you groan and throw your head back. “oh, come on, what does that even mean?”

“it means you’ve been sitting on this couch for way too long. so he broke your heart.”

“it was way more than that.”

“okay, so he crushed your chance at ever finding happiness.”

“getting closer.”

“but you can’t let that define you!” she plants her hands on her hips. “what better way to show joel he was wrong than to hook up with someone else?”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“what better way?” she asks again.

“it’s way more complicated than that and you know it!” you stop to collect your thoughts and find yourself thinking of joel and his smile. “diseases.”

“what?”

“diseases! stds! i don’t know!” you’re gesturing wildly with your hands now, and tess is bent at the waist from laughing so hard. “it’s a real possibility!”

“that was true with joel, too!” she points out. 

you’re silent for a moment. it’s only been four days– not nearly long enough for you to “get over” him. “i miss him.”

tess stares at you with wide eyes. “what?”

“i miss him.”

she sputters, “i thought you hated him!”

“i don’t hate him! he just…”

“he broke your heart! stomped on it! in public!”

“yes, i know. i was there. but, i just… i just miss him. i can’t shake the feeling that he didn’t mean it, that he wasn’t in the right state of mind.” you shrug. “maybe i’ll never know. but i just don’t feel right hooking up with someone else when i’m still in–” 

you barely stop yourself in time. tess catches you anyway. 

“you’re in love with him? no way.” she’s shaking her head aggressively, emphatically. “no dick is that good. no dick is worth that.”

“it’s not about his dick!” you sink back onto the couch and bury your face in your hands. you feel hopeless all of a sudden. “what if he was the one and i fucked it up?”

“you can’t fuck up the one.” she kneels in front of you and takes your hands in hers. “listen to me. if you want to go back to him, i’m not going to stop you. but he doesn’t deserve you. and if he keeps acting this way, he never will.”

you suppress a groan. it’s all so complicated, and it makes your heart ache. why isn’t love ever simple? in a world colonized by evil, why does even this have to be tainted? “i’m not going back to him,” you swear. “i just… i just miss him. i don’t know.”

“we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” tess shrugs sadly. “i get it if you’re like, i never want to go out again.”

“no, no, that’s not it. i just… i’m just tired.”

she gives you a knowing look. “right. well, i’m going to at least get a drink. i’ll be back later.” then she laughs. “i really will, i’m not going to curse you out in public. sorry sorry sorry so sorry i just couldn’t–”

you’re both laughing as you jump up to shove her out the front door. she shouts apologies through frantic giggling even when the door is closed behind her. 

meanwhile, joel is getting his ass handed to him.

“you’re a fucking idiot,” tess scoffs. “you know she’s the best thing that ever happened to you, right?”

he frowns. “she didn’t happen to me. she was just someone else i had to take care of.”

tess stops in her tracks, forcing him to slow down. “what the fuck even is that, joel? did you even go home that night?”

he shoots her a desperate look. there are dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep. he never could sleep as well without her. “yes, okay, i did! i did go home! i meant to go apologize, but she wasn’t there. so i went to wait for her at one of the markets she mentioned. she loves cooking, so i figured– look, it doesn’t even matter. she doesn’t want to see me.” he runs a hand through his already-messy hair. “i don’t know what to do.”

“apologize, dickhead!”

“how can i apologize when she won’t even see me?” joel is getting more and more distressed as he talks about it. it suddenly hits him that if you refuse to see him, he won’t have anyone.

sure, there’s tess, but he would never tell tess about his day. he could never tell tess what he wants for dinner. 

if there’s no you, who is he supposed to talk to?

tess is gesturing wildly with her hands. she does that when she gets excited or nervous. “you love her, don’t you?”

“how can i say i love her? i obviously don’t.”

“okay but you did, right?”

he hesitates. it feels wrong to say this about you when you’re not even there. “i loved her as much as you can love someone you’ve only known for a few months.”

she doesn’t waste even a second. “so then why’d you do it?”

it spills out like a broken bottle of whiskey. “she got close, tess! i was putting my boots under her bed! she gave me a massage. she told me she likes hearing about my day.” saying it out loud, joel’s beginning to realize how big a mistake he’s made. “i loved her. i love her, i just don’t know how to fix it. i’ll end up hurting her no matter what i do.”

tess stares at him. for a long moment, neither of them say anything. then he keeps going. “the last thing i want is for her to think i hate her. i don’t. i just… i miss her, and i don’t know how to fix it… i can’t fix it on my own.

“i want us to be happy,” he concludes.

well, mostly he wants you to be happy. 

your happiness just happens to correlate with his.

it doesn’t often rain in boston, but when it does, it pours. 

on this particular evening, you’re alone, tess having left hours earlier for something work-related. you’re still not entirely sure what she does on these work-related outings. 

you’re just about to curl up on the couch with a cup of weak tea and your battered copy of pride and prejudice when there’s a brisk knock on the door. you freeze. tess has always told you never to open the door for anyone. in fact, that was the first rule she established when you moved in with her. apparently tess is something of a target, and so now you are too. 

but this knock sounds familiar, and when you look through the peephole, you know why. you yank the door open. 

“are you insane?” 

joel just stands there, shivering. he’s soaked to the bone. “i’m so sorry,” he says. “i don’t want to waste your time. i’m so sorry.”

“what?”

“i should’ve come home, and i’m sorry that i didn’t.” his teeth are chattering from how cold it is, and part of you wants to let him inside. but the other part clings to your pride. “i’m sorry that i let them laugh at you, and i’m sorry that i said you were a burden. you are… anything but.”

you don’t say anything for a long moment. “what am i then?”

joel doesn’t hesitate. “you are the only thing worth living for.”

“what does that mean?”

“i love you,” he blurts. your eyes go wide. “i love you desperately. i love you hopelessly. i loved you as you left me, and i loved you even though i knew you would never come back to me. i loved you then as i love you now, and i understand if you want nothing to do with me. you don’t need to accept this, or even tolerate this, but i need you to know. you must know. i—“

“stop, stop.” he does. “what are you doing?”

his brow furrows. “i’m apologizing to you.”

“yes, but why?”

“what do you mean?”

“what are you trying to get out of it?” you refuse to let him back in again if it’s just to break your heart. you need to hear him say it– say anything, really, that would give you an excuse to close the door.

“i want you to be happy,” he says. like it’s as simple as that. like he really does just want you to be happy.

“i am happy,” you blurt out. 

he nods. nods again. “i’m so sorry,” he says, and then he turns away.

before you know what you’re doing, you shout, “wait, no! joel!” you let go of the doorframe and reach out for his shoulder. “joel, i’m not happy. i miss you. i love you.”

you manage to pull him back towards you, and then his arms are wrapped around you and you’re burying your face in his neck. “i’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.”

“i forgive you,” you breathe. 

joel pulls back just slightly, still keeping his arms around you. “come home,” he murmurs. 

you nod immediately, and then shake your head. “i have to leave a note for tess, she’ll be so mad if i just leave.” you drag him into her apartment with you. he follows dutifully as you search the kitchen for a sticky note, and waits while you scribble out a quick explanation.

joel came by. went home with him. thank you!!

“do you think that’ll be enough?” you ask, holding it up for him to see.

he squints at it. “i don’t know, baby. maybe just a little more.”

you flush at the petname, but if he notices, he doesn’t show it. he’s moved to your hand, clinging tightly to it as you lengthen the note. (he apologized). “is that good?”

joel hums his approval. “good job, baby.” you shift your weight, and this time you know he notices, because a smirk dances on his lips. he doesn’t comment on it. 

it’s still raining by the time you leave tess’s apartment, though not as hard, and because it’s still before curfew, it’s safe for the two of you to walk home.

home. for so long joel’s apartment felt like an in-between space. a place to go to at night. it took so long for you feel safe there, and then it all fell apart. now it’s no longer a room with a bed, it’s no longer just a refuge, it’s a home.

he loves you. just thinking about it makes you smile, even as the rain pours down. joel is holding your hand, he’s calling you baby, and he’s taking you home. you don’t know how this could get any better.

and then suddenly it does, because as soon as you get home he’s kissing you in the doorway, pushing you against the door and fumbling with the lock. your breaths are labored, and you can hear his own desperate panting as he shoves the door open. he mouths his way down your neck, and you suppress a moan.

somehow, joel maneuvers the two of you into the bedroom, where he lays you down with breathtaking gentleness. you stare up at him, wide-eyed. maintaining eye contact, he slowly kneels and pulls your shorts down to your ankles, where he leaves them and looks away, choosing instead to eye your core, glistening with your slick already. he drags one finger through your folds. when you don’t say anything, he adds another, this time pressing into you lightly. you choke on a moan.

his hand retracts, and you can’t restrain the whimper that tears from your throat. “joel,” you cry. “please.”

“good girl,” he soothes you, rubbing circles into your inner thigh with his thumb. “don’t hide your noises. i want to hear how good i make you feel.”

another moan slips free. a grin stretches across his face. then he’s burying his face in your thighs and your back arches off the bed, his name spilling from your lips with reckless abandon. he’s messy with it, smearing his spit and your slick across your folds and thighs. 

you know the walls are thin, but in your bliss you don’t care. all you can think of is joel, joel, joel. joel who loves you, and who is unfurling you on his tongue. 

you’re so close, and then he presses his thumb to your clit and his tongue to your fluttering hole. by the time his tongue breaches your core, your orgasm overtakes you, lifting you up and away. you fall silent for a long moment, but joel doesn’t mind. 

he pushes himself up to your head, kissing you through the high, bringing you back down to him. “shh, shh, shh, baby,” he coos. “you’re so good for me.”

a soft smile graces your lips, and you pull his lips back to yours, kissing him slowly. “i love you,” you whisper, and though you can’t hear it, you feel his lips mouth it back. 

he shifts up, spreading your legs wider, and you know what’s coming. he keeps his mouth pressed to yours, swallowing your moan as he slides home, filling you up just right. your mind goes blank, but you’re dimly aware of how deep he is, how full you feel. if you could speak, you would tell him these things.

but as it is, all you can manage is a quiet affirmation. “you feel… you feel so good,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut. he still hasn’t begun moving, just staying sheathed to the hilt in you. “yes, joel.”

he makes his first thrust softly. “that’s it,” joel says. “my beautiful girl.” he quickly establishes a rhythm, sliding in and out to the tune of your whines and cries. 

“please, joel, please,” you whisper, fisting the sheets in your hands. “please kiss me.”

you don’t have to ask again. instantly, his lips finds yours. he groans into your mouth and braces his hands on your hips, holding you there while he pushes into you over and over. 

it’s not that long before you can feel your orgasm approaching again. “joel, i’m– i’m gonna come,” you say, eyes squeezed shut. 

“go ahead, baby,” he commands. “come for me.”

with one final thrust, he’s spilling into you as you come apart around him. “joel,” you mewl. he’s still buried deep inside you, his forehead resting on yours as you both float down. 

when he pulls out, it’s cautious and gentle, and you can feel his love for you. your eyes drift shut, and you’re dimly aware of him walking away, but for once it doesn’t bother you. you know he’ll come back.

he loves you. 

as it turns out, he does come back, holding a warm cloth. he wipes you clean and helps you to the bathroom so you can rinse off. he follows you into the shower wordlessly, pressing kisses to your shoulders and forehead. 

that night, as you lie in bed and feel him curl into you, you don’t have to pretend anymore. he really is yours. 

[daisymbin]

2. "are you trying to distract me on purpose?"

3."you’re lucky you’re cute, or i’d be mad right now."

—you're working from home & well ur bf is bored becausehe has ntg to do.

Vernon or Joshua or both(poly if u're comfortable with that)

**reader has glasses (pls)

omg this is kinda cute... I've never written poly before so this is a first for me too!! hopefully I did okay! thank you for requesting this, lovely!!! 🤍

a/n: i tried to do some research to learn more about poly relationships to hopefully have that dynamic right? i apologise if its inaccurate (you can let me know if i did so i can learn!!) this is my first time attempting a poly fic so please go easy on me 🙂‍↕️

warnings: poly relationship!! don't read if you're uncomfortable with it!!

wc: 2.3k sorry idk what happened 🥲

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list || hansol's m.list

suggestive prompt #2: are you trying to distract me on purpose?" +

suggestive prompt #3: "you're lucky you're cute, or I'd be mad right now."

it was supposed to be a quiet day. you had a mountain of work piled up, and the only thing you really wanted was to get through it without any distractions. but of course, hansol and joshua had other plans.

"babe," hansol called from the living room, his voice playful and a little too eager. you glanced up from your laptop, catching him peeking around the corner with a mischievous grin. "you need a break?"

"i’m good," you said, turning your attention back to the screen, but not without noticing how joshua was lounging on the couch with a lazy smirk, clearly bored out of his mind.

"are you sure?" joshua added, stretching his arms above his head. "you've been working non-stop."

"yeah, you should take it easy," hansol chimed in again, walking a little closer to where you sat at the desk.

"i’m fine," you said, your voice steady as you clicked through your work. but something about their energy told you this was only the beginning. "just let me finish, okay?"

they exchanged a look, one that clearly meant trouble. "we were thinking," joshua started, "since we cancelled our bowling plans to spend the day with you..." he trailed off, eyes glinting with amusement.

"yeah, we had to come up with something fun to do instead," hansol added, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "so... how about a little bet?"

you raised an eyebrow. "a bet?"

"yeah," hansol said, leaning against the doorway, "whoever gets you to crack first wins. and the winner... gets to be the first one to have you." he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"real funny," you chuckled, but there was something in your chest that fluttered at the thought; you can't deny the way your stomach twisted in excitement.

"we’re just trying to have some fun," joshua said with a wink. "so, what do you say? are you up for it?"

you bit your lip, pretending to think for a moment before glancing at them both. "you can give it a go if you're that confident, but you’re both going to be disappointed when i get all this work done and don’t give either of you the time of day."

they just grinned at you, ready to prove you wrong.

attempt #1—hansol

a few minutes passed, and you were back in the zone, typing away at your laptop when you felt a familiar presence beside you. hansol’s breath fanned across your ear as he leaned in close. "you know," he whispered softly, "i'd have better restraints if you didn’t look so cute right now."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "seriously? that's what you're going with? a pick up line?" you huffed, "you’re lucky you're cute, or i’d be mad right now," you muttered, feeling his presence too distracting.

"i'll take that as a win," hansol said, voice thick with amusement as his hand brushed lightly across your shoulder. "just saying, you’d probably work better if i gave you a kiss for good luck."

you felt his lips hover near your cheek, and despite yourself, you tilted your head slightly. "stop it, hansol," you warned, but your tone was anything but firm.

hansol leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your cheek, just as he’d promised, before lingering there, his lips soft against your skin. his hand found its way to your waist, slipping under your shirt slightly to rest there as he murmured into your ear, "now, that was good luck, don’t you think?"

attempt #2—joshua

joshua appeared out of nowhere, slipping into the chair beside you, his knee brushing against yours. you glanced over at him, only to find him wearing that impossibly charming smile. "you’re working really hard," he murmured, placing a hand on your leg as he leaned closer. "why don't you just let us take care of you? soothe than tension?"

his fingers danced across your leg for just a moment before you shook your head, trying to ignore the way his touch sent warmth rushing through you. "joshua, please. i'm busy."

"ah, but you’re so cute when you’re trying so hard to ignore me," he teased, leaning in to kiss your temple. you let out a soft sigh, resisting the pull of his lips, "cut it out, shua."

he placed a hand on your thigh and slid it up, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. "don’t you want to spend time with me?"

you shifted in your seat, trying to focus on your screen, but the way joshua's hand stayed on your leg was enough to make you lose track of your thoughts.

attempt #3—hansol again

you were getting a little more frustrated now. your concentration was slipping, and your work was piling up. just as you were about to type something out, hansol was back. he dropped onto the couch beside you, his body a mere inch away from yours. he casually draped his arm over the back of your chair, leaning his head against yours.

"you’ve got this look on your face," hansol said, his voice a teasing whisper. "it’s like you want me to kiss you, but you’re too focused to admit it."

"oh my god," you muttered in playful disbelief, not sure if you were more frustrated with the work or with him.

"you don’t have to pretend," he continued, eyes twinkling mischievously. "i know what you're thinking."

you could feel his breath on your skin, and it was getting harder to focus. your hand, which had been hovering over the keyboard, finally fell into your lap as you exhaled. "i’m trying to work, baby. please."

hansol turned you to face him fully, he leans in close & ignores the way his heart flutters, instead, his gaze focuses on your glasses. with a teasing smile, he gently slid them off your face, setting them aside. his fingers lingered on your temple, tracing the edge of your skin where the glasses had been.

"you look even better without these," he murmured, his voice rich with desire. he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing yours as he smiles & whispers, "just you and me now."

attempt #4—joshua again

at this point, it was getting ridiculous. joshua wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore. he slowly slid off the couch and stood right behind you, one hand resting on the back of your chair while the other slid into your hair. he ran his fingers gently through the strands, sending a shiver down your spine.

joshua's hands rested gently on your waist, his fingers brushing the edge of your tank top. he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your earlobe as his breath warmed your skin. "you’re so beautiful," he murmured, the words sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. his hands slid slowly under your tank top, but instead of pulling it up, he traced patterns on your skin, teasing you with every movement.

you couldn’t help but smile at his light touch, the way he was taking his time, savoring the moment. "you’re being mean," you teased, glancing up at him.

"am i?" joshua grinned, his lips curling up in mischief. "maybe i’m just enjoying how you react." he kept his hands in place, gently caressing your sides before his thumbs brushed over the small of your back, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

you laughed softly, squirming slightly under his touch. "you know you’re not supposed to tease me like this, right?"

he leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "i’m not teasing," he whispered, his voice low and filled with affection. "i just want you to know how much i adore you." then, with a quick, playful peck on your lips, he pulled away, keeping you close but just out of reach, enjoying the moment of sweet, teasing tension.

attempt #5—the win

you were barely holding it together when hansol returned for one final attempt. this time, he didn’t even sit beside you. instead, he stood behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist. you tried to stay focused, but when his lips brushed your neck, your resolve finally crumbled.

"are you trying to distract me on purpose?" you finally asked, breathless and frustrated. your face flushed, your work completely forgotten as you turned to face him.

"oh, i've been trying, trust me," he said, his voice low and teasing. "i just want your attention so bad."

without waiting for a response, hansol takes matters into his own hands, kissing you fiercely, pulling you into a heated make-out session. his lips were insistent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed to your back, pulling you closer. you melted into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours, his kisses growing deeper as he claimed you. your hands gripped his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer.

hansol's hands traced the curve of your shoulders, his fingers light but firm as they grazed over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his breath was warm against your neck, his lips brushing softly against the sensitive skin there. you couldn’t suppress a quiet gasp as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, before he pulled back, his breath tickling your skin.

"you feel so good," he whispered, voice husky, his hands sliding down your arms to your waist. he drew you closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips returned to your neck, this time with more urgency. his kisses were slow but deliberate, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

you tilted your head back, offering him more access as his lips moved to your shoulder, nipping at the soft skin there. his hands roamed, one moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer, the other tracing the curve of your hip, fingers brushing the edges of your shirt. the heat of his touch made your heart race, and you could feel your body responding to him, every inch of you craving more.

his breath grew heavier, a low murmur escaping his lips as he kissed your shoulder, his hands moving upward, sliding under the fabric of your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. "can’t get enough of you," he murmured, his lips trailing further up to your jawline, his hands gently guiding you back against him.

you could hardly breathe, his touch overwhelming, consuming. but you didn’t want him to stop—how could you?

just as you were about to pull him closer, a voice broke through the haze of your senses. "you two are really going at it, huh?" the sudden interruption made both of you freeze, and you pulled away from hansol, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

joshua stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the table, a knowing smirk on his lips. his presence was warm, but there was an underlying tease in his eyes that made you feel a little exposed.

with a small laugh & his tone playful, he says to hansol, "can’t leave her alone for even a minute, can you?" his eyes flicked over to you, soft and affectionate, offering a little reassurance.

hansol gave a small shrug & smiles, the irritation from being interrupted fading away quickly, “just wanted to kiss her,”

joshua's hand move to gently brush against your arm. his eyes met yours, offering that same warmth, and you felt a wave of calm wash over you.

with a playful grin, joshua leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, tenderly at first. you melted into the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate pressure. his tongue slid against yours, the kiss growing more heated as he pulled you closer, just like hansol had. the mixture of their touches, their warmth, made your head spin in the best way, and you found yourself craving more from both of them.

joshua's lips moved to your neck, his soft kisses following the same path that hansol had begun. but there was something different in his touch—gentler, more tender, as though he was savoring every moment. his hand slid down to your waist, picking you up with ease as he walks over to the bed.

he guides you closer as his lips brushed along your skin, leaving behind a trail of soft, lingering kisses. "you’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you at the feeling of both their touches. they were so different, yet so in sync with each other, as if they were sharing the same unspoken understanding of what you needed. with both of them so close, the heat between you all was undeniable, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in, pressing your lips against joshua’s once more, the kiss deepening in response to the heat between you.

as their kisses and touches intertwined, you felt like you were floating, caught between both of them, in a whirlwind of passion and affection.

“so who won?” joshua mumbled against your lips.

“im pretty sure i did,” hansol answers as his smug smile returns. he looks over at joshua, who was smirking back at him. joshua slowly releases his hold on your neck and pulls away.

you tug on hansol's arm, resting him against the headboard as you move to climb on top of him; trapping him beneath you.

“wanna tell me again how good i feel?” you ask as you lean down; closer, your hands run through his soft brown hair as his hands come up to your waist.

“fuck yes,” he mutters, his eyes darkening even more as he feels you move your hips aginst his.

joshua moves to kiss you again, but hansol stops him before he can, “hey I won!” he whines.

“relax,” joshua laughs softly against your lips, “im just kissing her. you can have her first.”

[midnight-bay-if]

Hmhmhm, if you're up for it: MC tackling their RO out of the way of some danger and oh no! Now MC is pinning them against a wall/the ground/whatever and is taking slightly too long to let them up!

(I'm always up for some... tension, haha. Sorry, this took a while to get to! I have around 20 asks in my inbox right now. It also wasn’t specified whether the ROs are in a relationship at this stage, but for the sake of extra tension, I wrote it as if they were not. You know, for fun, haha.)

S: They are used to preparing for every inevitability. Their plans are organised, considered, and timely. But you are something of a wildcard, unpredictable and difficult to control. So, mid-fight, they are surprised, but shouldn't be, when you barrel into them to prevent their attacker from making a swipe for their head. Instead, their body collides with the floor, your weight pressing into them. They hear Taj dispatch the attacker, but they are much too occupied with how your breath tickles their lashes. It seems you are equally transfixed, neither moving to free yourself from the other.

It’s S who coughs and breaks the moment first if only to save themself the embarrassment of explaining the heat of their face. “Ah, forgive me,” they say, attempting to pull themselves out from under you.

With the spell broken, you move just as quickly. “Right. Are you… okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you for the timely assist,” they offer, readjusting their shirt and pointedly focusing their attention elsewhere. Then, they smile. “Perhaps a verbal warning the next time you deem to thrust yourself upon my person?” The double entendre was not lost on you.

Rain: Fighting was never really Rain’s forte. Or, well, not any longer. Luckily for Rain, S mostly agreed with Rain’s pacifist nature and endeavoured to control a battle with as little bloodshed as possible. Rain knew basic hand-to-hand combat, but if they were beside a bed of water, Rain was much more useful. They were not. Taj always hovered close to Rain, ready to defend them at any moment, but they were already caught up with several attackers. It is you who comes to their aid this time.

Without a second thought, you push them down to the ground after a particularly vicious swing of a dagger swipes towards their stomach. It’s enough to save their skin, if not their clothing. Taj finishes the job, breaking away long enough to knock their attacker out. Rain stares up at you, wide-eyed, in disbelief. What you did was terribly reckless, yet you did it for them. They don’t know whether to kiss you or kick you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, chest heaving. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” they gasp, their eyes misting over. “My clothes didn’t survive the ordeal, but otherwise…” They trail off, trying to ignore the heat of you seeping through the frayed piece of clothing. “MC?” They whisper, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t do that again.”

Taj: They rely on synergy during a fight. If they are not fighting alone, it takes knowing exactly what Rain and S think during a fight to navigate it successfully. It’s a reliance on their skill and S’s knowledge of their own that makes them an effective team. You, on the other hand, are an irritant. Your insistence to involve yourself means Taj, while combatting two separate assailants, has one eye trained on you at all times. It’s instinctive. It's not an instinct they are at all pleased about, either.

So, when another combative runs out towards your back, Taj is the first to notice. Dipping beneath a fist aimed for their skull, Taj skids across the ground towards you. Before the man can careen into your side, Taj does so first, knocking you flat beneath them. S, never being far behind, intercepts the attacker and finishes the job. Taj glares down at you, breathing hard, hands flat on either side of your head. You stare back up at them, doing much the same thing. The eyes soften almost imperceptibly when they realise how terrified they felt.

Growling, they push themself off of you, flinching away as if burned. “Try to pay attention, Koel. I won't make a habit of saving you," they lie.

N: In the Haels, they had seen a great deal of death. Much brought on by their hand. It was familiar. Like home. Even in an army, however, nobody truly cared for their fellow soldiers. It was every demon for themselves, as it should be. If you survived, you were strong. If you didn’t, well, you ceased to matter. So, it was quite amusing being pinned beneath you after being knocked out of the way of a deadly blow. How quaint. How strange.

Their heart hammered against their chest, their palms clammy, as they stared up at you with wide eyes. At first, it doesn’t completely compute why your elbow is crushing against their gullet. Then Umbra finishes off their would-be assailant, and all becomes clear. You had risked yourself for them. Why? What did you hope to gain? Their co-operation? Their compliance? Their… submission?

They mask their fear behind the salacious mask they are so prone to wearing. “It’s about time you threw yourself at me, my dear,” they goad, ignoring how their chest clenches. “Mm… I had hoped for a softer landing. Pillows, silk, by candlelight, but I’ll accept whatever it is you have to give.”

You don’t apologise when you dig your elbow deeper into them as you rise.

Umbra: They move without thinking. They do not need to. Their body has a way of directing itself, flowing like water as they dance across the battlefield; death follows. And yet, they are used to watching from a distance. Once, you would have been safe from such horrors as they carried them for you. They failed in this once before, and you forgot. They do not want to repeat this mistake. They want you to remain unscarred, unbroken, and untethered from darkness. So, they continue to dance.

But having you so close leaves them distracted. They focus too heavily on your movements and fail to notice another assailant lying in wait in the darkness.

“Umbra!” Your voice calls to them, so they turn towards you instinctively. But you are rushing towards them, and before they can even process the change, you tackle them down from the line of bullets destined for their chest. N expertly dispatches the shooter, blood splattering across the ground beside you. Neither move, fear gripping you still. Their hand hovers close to your cheek, shaking. They want to hold you, to describe the depth of the feeling, but words fail. As they so often do.

It is you who makes the first move, pushing off you with flushed cheeks and trembling legs. You hold out a hand to them, one they cannot bring themselves to take. “Thank you,” they offer, pushing themselves off the floor. “I… I will do better.”

“Just be safe,” you reply, denying Umbra’s declaration. “I need you to be safe.”

[sanarsi]

Library

This is a collection of my favorite works that I would love to have on my shelf. Ongoing updates. Please support the creators because they deserve it. If you like any work — leave a comment and reblog. Believe me, they notice it :)

Oberyn Martell

—

Javier Peña

Just Friends by @pedrospatch

You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

gonna make you sweat by @mypoisonedvine

he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life… so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.

javi having an only fans by @gothcsz

You can be my daddy by @thesummerpetrichor

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

javi when he's arresting you by @gothcsz

Jack Daniels

Playing pretend by @bluebeary-jay

a simple mission turns out to be quite a challenge when you find out that you're partnered with Jack Daniels. oh, and that you have to pretend to be in love with each other. easy? not at all.

Frankie Morales

The First Time by @fettuccin-e

Size kink

Tag-Teaming by @fettuccin-e

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader x Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Kinktober Day 5: Threesome

acts of service by @tonysopranosrobe

an unexpected admission leads frankie to make you an offer you can't refuse. this surely won't come with any consequences. OR you've never had your pussy ate and your best friend frankie helps you out.

The Real Deal by @strang3lov3

Frankie uses his tongue to demonstrate why he’s less than impressed with your rose toy.

As Long As I Want by @fettuccin-e

Din Djarin

Fifteen Minutes by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Being a cam girl isn't as exciting as people think it is, that is until a mystery of a deep voiced man asks you what makes a woman feel good.

spent by @pedropeach

you're a prostitute and din pays you for your services.

Just This Once by @fettuccin-e

Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia

Marcus Moreno

—

Dieter Bravo

your favorite kryptonite by @kedsandtubesocks

Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

you think it should be illegal for someone this hot to work at your favorite comics & fandom shop

Joel Miller

is it that sweet? by @pedropeach

you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right?

the body of christ by @studioghibelli

running from a past life full of alcohol, drugs, and sex, joel miller sought repentance through the priesthood. all was going fine and dandy, until one fateful day, you found yourself in his church.

‘my girl now. by @psychedelic-ink

joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

BITING DOWN by @psychedelic-ink

body piercer!joel miller x f!reader

you finally go and get your nipples pierced.

What you're missing by @toxicanonymity

dark!Joel x f!Reader

noncon somnophilia

the devil you do. by @studioghibelli

they say the devil has a tongue of silver. on the night he visits you for the first time, you learn that he really does.

Rotten by @alltheirdamn Part I Part II Part III

cowboy!joel x f!reader

Sharing land with Joel Miller has always been infuriating, but when your bad attitude finally gets his attention…things get messy.

run by @pedrospatch

Raider!Joel Miller x Female Reader

When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

Something Bad by @fettuccin-e

Kinktober Day 20: Corruption

sea spray & seashells & sandcastles by @ace-turned-confused

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind

flesh for fantasy by @syd-djarin

Joel puts on a pair of pretty panties for you.

every man gets his wish by @joelsmochi

joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;)

You wanted this (series) by @alwaysmicado

Joel and you have a fun dynamic going. You provoke him, he punishes you - you both get off. When you meet him after you’ve fucked someone else, he decides to show you who you belong to. It’s all fun and games, right?

SWEET CHERRY by @aurorawritestoescape

Joel takes your virginity. Gently, slowly, talking you through it.

Safety First by @strang3lov3

While camping, Joel insists on thoroughly checking you for ticks. Safety first, after all.

Caught In The Act by @mermaidgirl30

Thinking you’re home alone, you decide to unwind in bed, but the last thing you expect is to have Joel Miller, the man you’re renting a room from, find you naked in bed.

Marcus Acacius

—

Lucien Flores

—

Reed Richards

—

Other Characters

be my baby by @cavillscurls

logan howlett x f!reader

logan fucks you in your sundress.

good luck, babe! by @studioghibelli

abby anderson x reader

your boyfriend has been cheating on you. when you confront the woman he’s been seeing, she offers you a proposition.

Nightcall by @alwaysmicado

Marc Spector x f!reader

Marc is a bad habit you can’t shake.

Perfect Fit (series) by @ivystoryweaver

Nathan Bateman from Ex Machina x f!reader

You are Nathan's employee and are staying at his secluded home for experimental android purposes. Shenanigans ensue. Like - two Nathans shenanigans.

The Empty Room by @reallyrallyauthor

Nathan Bateman

Nathan uses his genius to give you a gift