#sorry accidentally deleted this last night

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 14

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.2k

Note : Hey lovelies!! Sorry for those I missed in the tags last time! My notes has been weird latter and I accidentally deleted a bunch so hopefully now you’re all back here again! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Never Ask to be Forgiven”

Saturday.

You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the too-clean white ceiling, your ears trying to find comfort in the beeping that marked your heart rate. The pain was still there, a dull throb radiating from every bruise and cut. 

But that was all. 

You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe some part of you thought the last four years would come back, simply because waking up this time felt so eerily similar to the first. But no—there was nothing. All you had were the last few months. The hurt, the betrayal— the nights spent in Bucky’s arms, the pain that followed.

And then you noticed him.

Bucky sat slumped in the chair beside your bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was messy, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. He’d been waiting for you to wake up.

The moment he noticed you were moving, his hand shot out, hesitating just inches before it reached you. 

“You’re awake,” he murmured, relief flooding into his voice. 

You stared straight ahead. You refused to give him your attention. You didn’t want to give him your time.

“I... I’m so sorry,” he broke the silence, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep his composure. He was uncomfortable, and she was filling in the silence. “I should have told you everything.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes fixed on the wall.

“I was wrong.” The words spilled out of him in a rush. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was terrified of losing you. But that’s no excuse. I... I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

All you heard was I this, I that. He was begging for your forgiveness, but it wasn’t something he could plead for. It was something you had to choose to give freely. On your own terms.

Slowly, familiar fury rose up in your chest, destroying any trace of empathy you had for him.

“Get out.” The words left your lips before you’d even realised you’d spoken. Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet it didn’t leave any room for debate.

Bucky’s face fell, the sadness in his eyes drowning him alive. “Please,” he tried, his voice trembling. “If you’ll just listen—”

“No.” Your voice steeled. “Out.”

You watched as he staggered to his feet, his hand slipping away from where it had been, hovering near yours. You remained still, refusing to give in to the quiet voice in your mind whispering that you still loved him— more than you had ever loved anyone before.

For a moment, it looked like he might try one last desperate plea. But then, he turned and walked toward the door.

He paused at the door frame, as if waiting for you to change your mind. But you didn’t look away. You held that cold stare until he was gone.

Sunday. 

The knock came quietly at first, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they wanted to disturb you. 

You didn’t answer. You had nothing left to give. No words left to say. 

The door creaked open.

Yelena moved with a hesitation you’d never seen in her before—like she wasn’t sure if she had the right to be there. 

You stayed still waiting for her to say something or leave. She did neither.

Instead, she lingered by the door, counting her breaths like she was trying to keep herself together. When she finally spoke, her voice came in the form of a whisper. “I’m not here to make excuses.”

You didn’t respond, resentment still alive in the dark corners of your mind. 

“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Yelena sighed, stepping closer, “but I’ve been sitting outside that door for hours, trying to… gather the courage to come in.”

You closed your eyes, wishing she would just go away. 

“I tried,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid. So I projected it on Bucky. And I’m not making excuses for him either but… I think I discouraged him.”

Yelena had to learn the hard way; you can’t force the truth out of someone. Force only breeds fear, and fear makes people say whatever they think will make the pain go away, truth be damned.

She understood that now— that there was something fundamentally wrong about using force in human relationships. But in her defence, it was all she had ever known. The Red Room, the kills she was forced to carry out—they’d taught her that control came through fear. Force became the only reliable tool in her arsenal. 

She realised now, that it was the same for Bucky.

Hydra had stripped away his humanity, piece by piece. Force had shaped him, twisted him into a weapon of someone else’s will. Force has dehumanised him. 

Of course he had resisted when met with any kind of force. Of course he had pushed back.

Yelena wasn’t going to defend him—not entirely. But she couldn’t deny that what he’d done was painfully… human. His reaction had been flawed, but it came from a place of desperate survival— and she understood that better than anyone.

She had failed to see Bucky as human. In doing so, they both had failed you.

You clenched your teeth, refusing to look at her, refusing to acknowledge the sting of her words.

When you finally spoke, your voice was cold. “You were complicit.”

You heard tension in the sharp inhale she took, in the faint tremble in her breath. “I know,” she said quietly. 

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her face in your peripheral vision. 

“I’m not expecting you to forgive me,” she said, taking another cautious step closer. “I just... I need you to know that I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The sincerity in her voice was unbearable.

You exhaled, pressing your palms into the bed. “I don’t have the energy to fight you right now,” you muttered, the tiniest hint of acceptance forming on your face. You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, but you were tired— tired of being bitter. Tired of feeling nothing but hatred.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll take it.”

She pulled a chair over. After a while, she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “There’s something else I think you need to hear,” she said carefully. 

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t stop her either.

“It’s Bucky,” she said hesitantly. “He… he’s in pieces over you. He doesn’t sleep, he barely eats. And I know he fucked up— but…”

Your breath hitched.

“His heart is yours,” She continued softly, “It always has been. And… and I’ve just never ever seen you as happy as you were with him.”

The words hit you harder than you would ever admit. 

She only ever wanted you to be happy.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

“I know you don’t want to see him,” Yelena added quickly. “But you should just… think about him. For your own sake.”

You didn’t answer. 

You couldn’t.

Monday. 

Today, Sam stepped inside, tablet by his side. He wore his expression as a mask of restraint, not betraying the guilt he felt underneath. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as he offered you quiet sympathy you weren’t ready to face yet.

Progress had been slow. You’d refused to see anyone but Yelena, but even when she was in the room, you barely talked to her. 

Maybe you just didn’t want to be isolated while you were healing— maybe you just needed a friend.

When Sam spoke, his voice was measured, like he was tiptoeing across a lake that had just frozen over

“I know you’re angry,” he said cautiously. “And you’ve got every right to be. But there’s… something you need to see.”

You wanted to tell him to leave, to stop pulling at threads you weren’t ready to unravel. Anger was easier— simpler. It didn’t leave room for doubt, didn’t force you to come face to face with how complicated everything had become. 

But his words lingered in your mind, demanding curiosity from you. 

So you gave an almost imperceptible nod you gave in response.

Sam crossed the room carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He placed the tablet on your lap, waiting for you to take the reins.

“The first time— when you lost your memories, he sat with you for hours,” Sam said quietly. “That’s— It’s all here.”

When he stepped back, his hand retreated reluctantly. 

Without another word, Sam turned and left, his footsteps fading down the hall until the room was nothing but a bubble of suffocating silence.

You stared at the tablet on your lap.

You wanted to push it away, to leave it untouched, to keep its secrets buried forever. You didn’t want to do this—not again. Not let a piece of technology guide you through fragments of memories better left forgotten. But your hands had other plans. 

You gave in, pressing play. The screen came alive with a flicker, pixels blooming into existence from the void. 

And then, there he was.

Bucky, in the sterile, dim light of a hospital room, looked like he’d been hollowed out. His eyes were red and swollen, dark circles beneath them etched deep into his face. He was holding your hand, his thumb brushing absently across your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “You deserve so much better than this. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I pushed you away because… because I was afraid. But I care about you. I care about you so much.”

The raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes, sent a tremor through your chest. You could see it, the regret laid bare, the desperation searing through him like the pain of an open wound.

Here, he wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t holding anything back. He was just a man, broken and afraid, holding onto your hand like it was a lifeline.

The footage cut briefly, and when it resumed, he was still there with the same clothes, the same tousled hair.

The time stamp showed that a day had passed. 

Here, his voice was softer, more fragile. His thumb was still tracing small circles over your hand. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I can’t help but think about how you light up every room you walk in,” he murmured, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “You always found a way to pull me out, even if I didn’t show it. Even if I didn’t deserve it.”

The words felt like a surgical knife had methodically split your heart open, removing the hatred from your body piece by piece before stitching it up again.

You couldn't quite believe— that despite being cold to you then— he had known exactly what you meant to him. 

He’d known, even when he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I miss you so much,” he choked out, his voice collapsing. He clung to your hand as if it was the only real thing left in the world. “I can’t do this without you.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt tears burning in the back of your eyes. 

He’d spent so long hiding this, hiding everything he felt.

And it all came spilling out when you weren’t even awake to hear it.

Then he looked up, his eyes lost in a distant memory. “Do you remember the time we went on the Latveria mission together?” He let out a soft, shaky laugh. “I thought I was going to be a distraction. You laughed and said I could never be a distraction. You said I was your favourite partner. I should’ve known then that you cared about me… that I meant something to you. And I took you for granted.”

The remorse, the grief in his voice, was too much to bear. 

And then, he said it: a quiet confession of a broken man.

“I love you.”

The screen went dark, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. 

Your heart twisted.

You knew now, deep down, that he was just a man—flawed, broken, fighting his own battles. Sometimes, he failed. This time, he failed you. 

But aren’t failures what makes us all so devastatingly human?

And yes, he failed. But he was also a man who loved you. The man who sat beside you for hours, holding your hand, pouring out every piece of himself in the hope that you’d feel him.

And love is something he could never fail at.

Tears slipped down your cheeks washing away the last shreds of your anger. You couldn’t forget the hurt he’d caused, couldn’t ignore the wounds he drove in your heart, but you could try to understand why it hurt so much. 

You couldn’t deny that you loved him, too—despite everything. And for the first time since all of this began, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through the pain.

You could be whole again.

Tuesday.

Today, you were discharged. And today, you went searching for a friend—not Yelena. Things between you and her were still fragile, and you were unsure if you had even forgiven her completely.

Instead, you found yourself back at the museum, sitting in front of Bucky’s old war uniform. The glass case reflected your bruised face, a monument to your present and his past.

Alex sat beside you, eyes furrowed with concern 

"Tell me everything," she said.

And so you did.

-To be continued…

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[snoopyaday]

Sketches by Peanuts creator Charles Schulz

[menlove]

made a nsfw-ish/gender blog if anyone is interested 🧍

[fighting-these-demons]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

concept!!! "there's only one bed" fic but set in here

[seoulzie]

after school activities

WHEREIN: late-night work sessions reveal hidden feelings between the president and vice president.

彡 pairing: student council president!jun x vice president!reader 彡 genre: smut 彡 warnings: fingering, pussy eating, semi-public, markings (scratching, hickeys, biting) & pet names (baby)

SEUL SPEAKS! this was a requested fic but i accidentally deleted the ask (┬﹏┬) nonetheless! I'll take my chances & post it either way ㅎㅎ

it was the final stretch before the school festival, and the weight of responsibility had fallen heavily on the student council's shoulders. yeonjun, the esteemed student council president, and you, his dedicated vice president, had taken it upon yourselves to ensure everything went smoothly. as the clock ticked past regular school hours, the hallways emptied, and the sounds of students' chatter faded into the quiet hum of the building's ventilation system.

the council room was lit dimly, papers scattered across the large wooden table in organized chaos. the rain outside created a soothing backdrop, a steady patter against the windows that contrasted with the intensity of your work. you both stayed late, poring over last-minute details, the pressure to deliver a successful festival mounting.

“yeonjun, i think we should recheck the seating arrangements for the performances,” you suggested, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you scanned the documents.

he nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “good idea. we don’t want any mishaps on the day itself.”

most of the school's personnel and students had long gone home, leaving the two of you in the peaceful solitude of the council room. the silence was comforting, yet it also amplified the unspoken tension that had been building between you and yeonjun over the past few weeks. the subtle touches, the lingering looks, and the gentle pats had not gone unnoticed.

you reached for a pen, your fingers brushing against his. a spark of electricity passed through you at the contact, causing you to glance up, only to find yeonjun already looking at you. his eyes held a depth of emotion you hadn't noticed before, and it made your heart race.

“sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your hand away, but yeonjun’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“don’t be,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “i’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to find your voice. yeonjun stood up, moving around the table to stand in front of you. he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.

“we’ve been spending a lot of time together,” he began, his voice steady but nervous. “and... i’ve been feeling something more.”

your heart started to race, anticipation building.

“i like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve liked you for a while now.”

your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding in your chest. “i… i like you too, yeonjun,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

a small smile tugged at his lips before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. it was sweet, exploring, and filled with unspoken emotions. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second.

yeonjun pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “are we supposed to be doing this?” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

you searched his eyes, seeing the same conflict reflected in them that you felt. “i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “but it feels right.”

he nodded, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “yeah, it does.”

with a shared understanding, you both leaned in, your lips meeting again with more fervor. the hesitation melted away, replaced by a growing urgency. yeonjun’s hands roamed your body, caressing your sides, igniting a fire within you. he guided you toward the couch, laying you down gently as he hovered above you. the rain outside grew heavier, mirroring the intensity building between you two.

his kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a path of burning desire. you moaned softly as he nipped at your skin, sucking and biting, leaving marks that claimed you as his. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, craving more of his touch.

you gasped as his hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at you.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hand moving higher, slipping under your bra to cup your breast. his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

you arched into his touch, a whine escaping your lips. “please, yeonjun,” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

he smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. his hand squeezed your breast, his thumb and index finger rolling your nipple between them, making you whimper against his mouth. he pulled back just enough to tug your shirt and bra off, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“so perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your collarbone to your chest. he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand continued to knead your other breast. you writhed beneath him, your body on fire.

he switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his hand slipping down to unzip your skirt. he slid them off along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. his fingers brushed over your core, already slick with arousal, making you shudder.

“you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your folds. he circled your clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you see stars.

“yeonjun, i need you,” you pleaded, your hips bucking against his hand.

he kissed his way down your body, spreading your legs wider as he settled between them. his breath was hot against your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. you cried out, your hands fisting in his hair as he licked and sucked, his fingers teasing your entrance.

“oh, god, fuck,” you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure.

he slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit that sweet spot that left you breathless. he added another finger, pumping them in and out, his tongue never letting up on your clit. you were on the edge, your orgasm building rapidly.

“i’m gonna come,” you gasped, your body tensing.

“do it,” he urged, his voice husky. “come for me.”

with a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. he continued to pump his fingers, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless.

he climbed back up, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “i need you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i need to be inside you.”

you nodded, your hands reaching down to unbutton his pants. he quickly shed them along with his boxers, his erection springing free. he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking onto yours.

“are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky.

you nodded, your own desire reflected in your eyes. “yes, i want this.”

yeonjun’s lips found yours again as he entered you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left your eyes rolling. his hands gripped your hips, leaving marks where his fingers dug into your skin, his name a constant mantra on your lips. the room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rain outside only adding to the symphony.

your nails raked down his back, leaving red trails, and he groaned in response, his movements becoming more urgent. you felt the tension building within you, every touch, every kiss pushing you closer to the edge.

“yeonjun, i’m close,” you moaned, your body arching against him.

“me too,” he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “let go, baby.”

with a final cry, you both reached your climax, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your release. yeonjun collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. he kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“that was amazing,” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.

yeonjun chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “it was.”

as the rain continued to fall outside, you lay in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. in that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

THE NEXT DAY a little post-credit scene bc i got carried away hehe

you walked into school the next morning, your body still buzzing from the night before. the memory of yeonjun’s touch lingered on your skin, and as you swung your locker door open, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the chipped mirror, .you noticed several hickeys peeking out from under your collar. you quickly adjusted your shirt, trying to cover them, but the effort was futile; the marks were too many and too obvious.

“hey, did you sleep at all?” one of your friends asked, approaching you with a teasing smile. “you look like you had a wild night.”

you blushed, your mind flashing back to the moments on the council office’s couch. “just stayed late working on festival stuff,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded nonchalant.

“yeah, right,” your friend laughed, nudging you playfully. “i’m sure the ‘festival stuff’ was really intense.”

before you could respond, yeonjun walked up, his own shirt doing a poor job of hiding the marks you had left on him. his eyes met yours, and a knowing smile curved his lips.

“morning,” he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“morning,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

your friend’s eyes widened as they looked between the two of you. “wait, did you two…?”

yeonjun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “we were just working late,” he said with a wink, making you blush even harder.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme , @missmoaforbeom , @lun4kazumii , @s0urcherry , @rianrishu, @blossommi ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off. 

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired. 

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom. 

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click  through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem. 

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice. 

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him  until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said. 

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore  he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.” 

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

[p0orbaby]

Girls Night

summary: your self control is abysmal and alessia takes advantage of it

warnings: SMUT 18+, public sex, (r receiving) oral, fingering, alcohol consumption

a/n: i accidentally deleted the request for this, but whoever asked for handsy lessi in the club, this is for you

word count: 1.8k

-

Thirty seven minutes.

That was how long the two of you lasted.

Thirty seven measly minutes of trying and failing to be present. You have very patient friends, that’s for sure. Or perhaps they’re just used to your lack of attention when Alessia is around. Regardless, thirty seven minutes is a new low for you.

But she just looks so good, and tequila makes you horny.

For what it’s worth, you did try. Arriving separately helped and it gave you a few precious moments to get yourself a drink and actually speak some coherent words to your teammates.

She knew what she was doing the moment she stepped up behind you. Placing a possessive hand on the back of your neck as you stood talking animatedly to Lucy at the bar. That was her idea of a hello, a power move that had you weak in the knees before you even laid eyes on her.

It was all downhill from there. Pathetic, really. Not even a word had been spoken and you were already unraveling, on your way to being a puddle in the middle of the bar.

You were grateful Alessia had taken over the conversation with Lucy, though. It offered you a brief reprieve, a minutes grace to regain some of the dignity you lost by suddenly not being able to string a sentence together

It wasn’t until the brunette had left that your consciousness decided to enter the room again.

“Sorry I’m late” she says, then leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Tequila?”

You clear your throat, “of course”

“Well, looks like I’ve got some catching up to do then”

-

“Fuck” you breathed when she sucked at your neck. You knew you’d be littered in marks by the time you left this place, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Alessia had matched you drink for drink since she arrived. If you could count four hastily drowned tequila shots drinks, rather than a fast track to pound town. You had a goal and no one could blame you for using the shortest route to get there.

The back of your head bumped the door of the stall when a tongue soothed over the bite marks left behind. Desire was making your head spin more than the alcohol was, so to have Alessia pinning you against a hard surface was definitely a practical move.

“Tell me what you want” she instructs, but all you can focus on is how her breath fans against your sensitive skin. “Tell me, baby”

“Just you” you manage, your voice weak and hoarse and completely unreliable.

She chuckles against your jaw and squeezes your waist. See, pathetic. Four shots and one cocktail and she had you hook line and sinker. “You can do better than that”

You sighed with the effort of having to talk, to think. You just wanted her, everywhere. Any way you could have her. So you responded with something better than words. You pulled her in for a searing kiss and hoped that would relay the message quicker.

The breath she released through her nose told you she was at least somewhat getting the hint. And the hand that you felt trailing up the bare skin of your thigh made you whimper into her mouth with relief.

You were suddenly very grateful that your past self decided on a dress instead of trousers for tonight.

The hands you had perched on her shoulders made their way to her hair. It was shorter now than it used to be. A new city, a new look she told you when you saw it for the first time. But you didn’t need convincing, she could shave half her head and parade around in a burlap sack and you’d still find her attractive.

“You’ll have to be quiet, then” she whispers into your mouth. “Can you promise me?”

You’re nodding your head before she can even get the words out. You’re like a woman starved when it comes to Alessia. Yearning for her like crops gasping for water in a drought. Any amount of time spent apart is too long, and you make up for your distance at every opportunity.

Like now. In a toilet cubicle. On a Monday night.

Her pupils were blown when she pulls away from you. The blue almost completely replaced by black pools of wanting as she looked down at you hungrily. You must’ve been a sight. Cheeks flushed, lips kiss bitten, the straps of your dress hanging loosely off your shoulders. Regardless, she wanted you, so there was no need to worry.

You have to stop yourself from whimpering when she places you on the floor and falls to her knees in front of you.

Experienced hands grab at your left leg and places it over her shoulder. The material of your dress slipping up your thigh towards your hips.

“Are these new?” She asks, as she trails a single manicured nail across the front of your panties.

They were. So you nodded again.

Alessia has a thing for lingerie. She loved how she could see little bits of your body through the lace. How the silk made you look soft and delicate after covering you in hickes. She liked how your skin would welt ever so slightly when she flicked garters against it.

“Just for me?”

“Mhm”

“Can I keep them?”

What sounds like an innocent question is anything but. Whenever she fucks you somewhere new, your underwear serves as a trophy. Something to remind her of the places she’s conquered you. Not that she’d ever forget.

She doesn’t wait for a reply this time, just reaches her hands under the hem of your dress and pulls at the material unprompted. You would’ve said yes anyway, you like that Alessia keeps your panties in her back pocket when she’s done with you.

“Quiet, remember?”

Her lips tickle the inside of your thigh as she trails lipgloss kisses across the skin. Agonizingly slow and you can’t help but think she’s getting a kick out of taking her time.

A kiss to your center almost has your legs buckling from under you. A barely there peck. It would be sweet, but she’s teasing you, unfairly, and you’re getting frustrated.

“Alessia”

“Hmm?”

“Hurry up”

She snorts at your attempt at authority. You’re not a pushover. Your impressive record of yellow cards proves it. But the pitch is a different world, Alessia likes to frequently remind you. Especially when she’s got her head between your legs and your hips pinned possessively to the mattress.

She looks up at you then, and you can tell by the way her stare hardens that your comment was the last one she’ll let you have for free.

You’re not a pushover, but you’re not stupid either. So keep your opinions to yourself.

Alessia ducks her head back underneath the edge of your dress, and you feel her warm breath against you again. You briefly wonder what she’s doing down there, inspecting you, perhaps? For what you don’t know, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. In fact she’s seen more of you than you think you have of yourself.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy”. Her words are more for her than for you, but you keen at them regardless, and her hands grip you harder to stop you from falling. “So pretty”

It’s then that she swipes her tongue along you. “Tastes good too,” she adds.

Wasting no time, at last, she closes her mouth over your clit and sucks, and you have to bring an arm out to brace yourself against the side of the stall.

Your center weeps as she licks a long line over you, tongue lapping at you firmly. Your other hand comes out to tangle your fingers in Alessia hair. She’d need to sort it before she goes back out there, but she won’t mind.

She slides two fingers into you suddenly, and you're grateful that you can hear the hum of music through the walls, because the moan you let out at the stretch of her was definitely loud enough to arouse suspicions.

It was the feeling of her searching inside you you, hot and sticky, and the way her mouth moved over you, sucking and licking and flicking in all the right places that had your heel digging into her back. You feel her pull away, to breathe, you suspect, then she's back on you.

You can hear the latches on the door rattle each time your head falls back against it. If people cared enough to know what was happening in here, all they’d need to do is trail their eyes to the little gap between the tiles and the door itself. An easy enough equation to work out with two knees, a singular foot and the muffled sighs coming from the other side.

She knew precisely the moment when she found the spot she’d been looking for. Using her free hand, she pulls back the material covering her view of you. Pushing it over her head and up your stomach, she looked up to find you with parted lips, sucking in a strangled breath. Eyes scrunched closed as you rocked against the flick of her tongue.

You broke, almost pulling out chunks of her hair as you gave in and cried out her name. It echoed loudly around you, though you didn’t have it in you to care. Your body was shaking, Alessia’s grip on your thigh tightened more than you thought possible. You'd have a bruise there tomorrow but it was worth it.

She worked you back down slowly. Releasing your clit from her lips and kissing you there instead. Gently, slowly, pulling her fingers from inside you, smirking at the inconsistent rise and fall of your chest. It was an intoxicating feeling, seeing you off kilter and blurred around the edges as you climbed back up from falling from great heights.

She wiped her fingers and mouth on the inside of your thigh, before dropping your leg and standing to her full height in front of you once more.

The sharp sound of a hand smacking the other side of the door had you both jump.

“Are you guys finished? We’re moving bars”

“We’ll be out in a sec” Alessia answers for the both of you. Which you’re extremely grateful for because you’re pretty certain if you tried to speak now, no real words would come out. “We’re being summoned” she adds to you when she hears Keira’s footsteps get quieter.

“I don’t think I can walk”

There’s that laugh again. “You can”

“No. I really can’t”

“No?” She hums. “Well it looks like there’s only one way you’re getting out of here then”

It takes a second for you to realise what she means, but it all comes to light when she bends down and puts her hands around your waist. Your eyes go wide and your hands push at her shoulders.

“Alessia! Alessia, no! Put me down!”

[bad268]

Burn

Aftermath Affair Pt. 4

(Oscar Pisatri X Reader + Ex! Lando Norris X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, happy 5 years!

Warnings: Airing dirty laundry lol, that's about it. Based on the song from Hamilton (not Lewis)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1710

Chapter Summary: Y/n L/n posted a new video, and everyone's hearts stop.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 3

~~(^Both from Pinterest)

You moved in with Oscar that night. All you took were your clothes. Everything that Lando bought you now burned you, and you couldn’t give a fuck less about what he bought you. You wanted nothing to do with anything related to Lando. He reached out once, asking where you were. All you said was, “Ask Ava.” He understood then. At least, you assumed he did because you blocked his number and every social media account he had before he could respond. 

You heard from Oscar that Lando was a wreck. You laughed it off because he did this to himself.

Your subscribers noticed the change. Your personal channel content changed from video games to vlogs. You were going out and doing things, in London they learned, and they loved to see it. You still played games, but fewer racing games and more random games you always wanted to play. Your subscribers also noticed how happy you were. They were convinced you and Lando got engaged.

Little did they know, you were falling for a different man.

Your subscribers were thrown for a loop when your shared channel with Lando was deleted. You decided it was time to delete it. They bombarded your socials almost immediately, asking what’s going on. They tried to see if it was rebranded or saved anywhere, but it seemed like your entire relationship was ripped from the internet. Your Instagram was void of Lando, your channel no longer had videos with him, and you didn’t follow him anywhere anymore. They didn’t even notice until then.

~

Y/n L/n just posted!

“A Letter to Lando”

“By now, you will have all seen that the shared channel is gone,” You opened the video. You were sitting in your new recording room. It was more open than your last one, more bright. You had a large window that brought in a lot of natural light, and it was more your style. The last one was just Lando’s recording room that you borrowed, so you couldn’t change it. When you moved in, Oscar told you to make this space yours in any way you wanted. It took a while, but you felt at home for once. “I deleted our shared channel because I am erasing myself from this narrative.“

“I’ve filmed this video at least three times at this point,” You took a breath as you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It’s hard to talk about what happened. Not only the way in which you found out about the cheating but also how you reacted. It was one of the darkest times in your life, and it took a lot to come back from. “I’m sorry, but it’s been a struggle trying to find the words to share this. As many of you have seen on Lando’s Instagram, Lando and I are no longer together.”

Oscar still had to follow Lando on Instagram for team purposes, and that’s how you saw that he posted a hard launch with Ava. 

You still did not know how you wanted to tell everyone what happened. You looked off at the wall. Your viewers couldn’t see it, but there was a picture of you and Oscar from a few months ago. You went out to celebrate 1.5 million subscribers. Oscar insisted, saying it was a huge milestone, and you didn’t want to make it a big deal. He insisted and dragged you out of the apartment. The picture was taken right after you accidentally knocked ice cream onto his nose. Lando wouldn’t even celebrate 1 million with you. Remembering the happiness with Oscar made you smile.

“Clearly, we’re not together anymore,” You sighed as your smile faded. “I’m not going into details, but I hope they’re happy. My friends always said he would do what it took to survive, and they were right. I was blinded by his words and his actions. That’s on me.”

“You talked about how long you have been in love with her, and how you didn’t believe in true love until you met each other,” You let out a breath as you thought of your next words carefully. “You told the world how you brought this girl into our bed, and in explaining your love story, you have ruined our lives. Do you know what my friends said? They called you an Icarus! That’s how my friends reacted, so I’ve decided that I’ll let you wonder how I reacted when you broke my heart, when you tore us apart.”

“I kept every letter you ever wrote to me,” You chuckled lightly as you pulled out a few pieces of paper. “The letter you first asked me out with because you were too scared to ask me face to face, the letter you wrote when we hit each milestone, random letters where you just professed your love, and letters that I would have cherished forever. I also kept the letter I wrote to you when I found out. I thought about reading a few lines out,” You insinuated by opening one of the letters before pulling out a lighter. You had already opened the window and had a bucket of water by your feet, and Oscar was standing outside with a fire extinguisher just in case. You chuckled lightly as you skimmed the loving words that had now turned sour in your eyes. At that moment, you decided you wanted to watch it burn. “I’ll let you all wonder how I reacted when he broke my heart.”

Your soft smile as you read slowly turned to a scowl before you lit the corner of the paper and looked directly into the camera. “Lando, you don’t deserve to see how I reacted. You don’t deserve anything from me. The world has no place in our bed, and they don’t get to know what I said. I am burning the memories, the letters that might have redeemed you. Lando, you can sleep in your office with only the memories of when you were mine.”

You lit all of Lando’s letters one by one before dropping them in the bucket once they were destroyed. Then you grabbed your letter to Lando. You skimmed through the multiple pages of it, remembering the feelings before lighting the corner. “You didn’t give me the decency to tell me yourself. I had to learn of your affair from your friend, so you forfeit the rights to my heart. You forfeit the place in our bed. I hope you’re happy with yourself, Lando.”

You threw the last letter into the bucket and gazed at the camera. Finally, you felt at peace.

“One last note to Lando Norris,” You paused, allowing a small smile to envelop your features, “I hope you burn.”

~

The reactions were almost instant. You sat on the couch curled up against Oscar’s body, rewatching Sex Education. It was one of your favorite shows, but Lando hated it, so you never got to watch it. Oscar binged it once, so he was always down to rewatch it with you. You heard your phone going off, so you pulled it out of your pocket to check it. However, Oscar immediately took it out of your hand and powered it off. 

“Hey, what’s that for?” You chuckled as he moved your phone away from you. “I was gonna check that.”

“Shhh, the show is playing,” He whispered as he leaned toward your ear before turning his attention back to the show. 

“You’re insufferable,” You laughed as you turned your attention back to the screen. It didn’t hold your attention long as you looked back over to Oscar. You were leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, so you were looking up at him. He had an arm around your shoulder while the other rested against your thigh that was lying over his lap. You got lost in your thoughts.

Oscar was everything to you. You felt more free whenever you were with him. At first, he gave you the space to refind yourself. He even supported you throughout the journey. Any game you wanted, he bought. Any new hobby, he tried it with you, so you wouldn’t feel alone. He never pushed you to do anything, but he did support you in everything you wanted to try. 

You never felt this supported with Lando. Looking back, he was toxic. He only wanted to play racing games or stupid games. You wanted to try other things, and he would be condescending. He always pushed you to fit the cookie cutter mold that other racing drivers’ girlfriends fit, but that was never going to be you. Oscar encouraged the change because staying in the same thing for too long can burn you out. It was true.

At some point of your staring, Oscar looked down at you with a smile. It wasn’t until he left a kiss on your forehead that you noticed.

When you first moved in, Oscar was very respectful in giving you your space to heal. He made sure to give you multiple spaces where you could retreat to including your own room and recording room. As the time moved on, you slowly migrated into his room for movie nights and late-night binges, and it eventually became you two staying in the same bed all night. Oscar never pushed you away. He wanted you to know that he was there for you whenever you were ready, and he was willing to wait as long as he needed for you. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” He said with a quiet tone, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“I think I’m ready,” You replied in the same tone. You moved to sit up a little more before grabbing Oscar’s hand, “I’m ready to give us a chance.”

“Really?” Oscar asked as he started getting excited before calming back down, “Wait, I don’t want to rush you if you aren’t ready.”

“That’s exactly why I’m ready,” You laughed as you leaned back into him. “You gave me the space to become comfortable again. Oscar, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable and free with someone in my life! You have been everything but pushy, and I’m ready to try us.”

~~~ Part 5 ->

~

Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[shiro41]

A bet - Alastor x reader (honey moon edition)

Warnings: tit sucking.

Note: I accidentally deleted the oneshot a few days ago and this was the remaining parts of it and im too lazy to rewrite the whole thing again. The anon that requested this was also deleted 😭 im sorry babes!

The cold droplets of water running down your skin didn't stop you from exposing yourself on the balcony with only a piece of robe covering your figure. It's cold, wintry air ghosting your skin that made you shiver and you wonder why your husband preferred to sit by the balcony with a glass of champagne in hand, reading the news for today. How peculiar of him, reading there as if he's sipping coffee in a morning on a random day by the porch. You suppose you didn't marry a normal person, Alastor has his antics of coming off as unsettling seldom times.

"What's got your attention tonight, love?"

You asked, a hand on the back of his chair. You know dear husband despises physical touches unless initiated first, settling to lean on the wooden material to look over the newspaper at hand.

"Nothing, dear."

The tone of his voice upsets you, it lies with hidden disappointment and untold anger towards the headlines of his reading. Represented in bold writing states a murder recently found by the stream deep within the forest, assuming that he's the one to cut their throat and ascend their soul to heaven or hell.

"It's alright, love. You can always have more."

You reassured, brushing away your hand through his locks that's been a mess since the start of your evening. Albeit the reassurance, a chuckle surfaces from you after. You look at Alastor, a hint of glint in your eyes as you spoke with a tone coated with sickening, sweet, honey.

"Does this mean I won?"

A quick sigh from him and a crumple of the bundles of newspaper later, he turns to you with his foxy eyes and a caress of his thumb across the soft knuckles of your hand. The hearts in his eyes are painfully obvious despite the metaphor used, his affection and extreme lengths of risks for love, devotion for you is undeniably lasting.

"Oh, dear girl, I suppose you are. What do you desire this evening?"

"Why not solve the insatiable desire to have my husband enjoy the rest of our honeymoon together?"

You giggle when he press a quick kiss on your forehead, tender and small yet the warmth that lingered even after he's pulled away from you represented his undying affection. The irritation washed away from his eyes, the same smile he's always seen with still present but the unsettling feeling bought with it was non existent at the moment, instead was replaced with a stroke of love and genuity.

"I shouldn't complain about it then, darling. Still, I should've buried it elsewhere."

He whined, leading you away from the balcony where the cold air constantly fans your freshly washed face and barely covered body. Swiftly, his hand swiped and skillfully set up the gramophone and the disc of his music of choice. Unsurprised when it played the familiar tunes of jazz and romantic melody to match the atmosphere of your situation with Alastor.

"I knew you'd lose the moment i helped you throw it by the river."

You giggle, following his footsteps as the both of you circled the room with a bounce on your pattern. Again with the smile, teeth now disappearing behind his lips as it reached the sparkle in his eyes whilst the both of you dance your night away in a dimly light room situated above ground and away from the bustling city.

"A grave mistake, love."

He swooped down, hands travelling down towards the soft plush of your hips and a little more space used to close the distance between you both until the tip of his nose finds your own.

"I win tonight, Alastor."

You breathed, eyes half lidded until it closed once he sealed his lips with yours. Quickly, the soft music of jazz was muted by your subconscious as you chose to focus on the kiss you share with your husband and further melt into his touches until you fall back to the cushions of the bed behind.

The fall didn't stop and separate the long, passionate kiss, only lengthening it with added dancing tongues and clashing of teeth, barely letting go with a soft bite of the other's lips, pulling them back to another heated kiss.

"I love you, Alastor."

"Nothing can separate me from you, lovely. Even death will not break the curse of our love."

He whispered against your ear, peppering it with gentle kisses and a nip on your earlobe. He growls, low and subtle, only for you to hear. From your jaw to the skin of your neck, he's littered it with kisses and marks, bites of his teeth resembled the fierce affection he has for his wife, only travelling down lower until he's at the valleys of your breasts that's covered with a robe he so quickly removed to see the perky nipples of your chest. A blush coat your cheeks, finding it embarrassing as you watch your husband yet again pepper them with kisses before his lips land onto the hardened buds that awaited his arrival.

"Shall I grant you the pleasure to suckle on these fine breasts of yours, cher?"

He asked, flicking the bud as he twisted the other like a baby playing with their food. A whimper comes out of your mouth, a hand coming to your lips in an attempt to shush your unholy noises. Alastor continues his duties like a hard working employee, indulging himself to warm your nipple with a thick coat of his saliva and suckling motions.

The other wasn't abandoned still, his hand twisted and groped the soft flesh, feeling the way it bounced once he let go and an occassional pull from them results a quiver and a strangled moan from you.

He truly loved the unholy music sang by you, only for his ears to listen to. He wished to savor these moments, heightening his senses to focus on the whines that spews out of your lips and enjoy the taste of your flesh being nipped inbetween his teeth.

Your hand finds its way to your husband's hair, gripping on it as you pull his head closer--deeper, as if burying his face into you until all he can see and hear is the beating of your heart and the blood circulating inside it. With a 'pop', Alastor looks at you through half lidded eyes coated with thick, sinful lust and a hint of admiration towards the beauty that layed beneath him, pussy throbbing underneath the robe, tits coated with saliva, neck littered with bite marks and a flushed face of a goddess. How angelic you must look before him, almost convincing him he's seen a glimpse of heaven's pearly gates without stepping foot on the cloudy surface of the floors.

His hand wandered down, tracing the curves of your body and the beautiful scars that decorated it, sighing with bliss as you whimpered when his hand landed on the prize inbetween your plush thighs, it heated his cold hand, warming it with slick liquids that's been dripping the past minute when your husband's attention was directed to your perky tiddies. Your pussy throbbed with nothing until his fingers encircled the aching organ, begging for his dick to penetrate it.

"Alastor...please...put it in..!"

You whined, looking at him through lidded eyes with cheeks erupting a rosy colour as your mouth nipped and suckle on your fingers.

"Hush, darling. Be patient, the night is still long."

He purred lovingly.

---

It is safe to say that weeks later, when coming home from work, Alastor is greeted with a burnt bun in the oven.

[mothiir]

the hand that feeds

So I’m really sorry to the anon who inspired this for two reasons: one for deleting your ask accidentally, and two for taking “leman russ puts the reader in a collar” in a direction you did not mean.

cw: violence against wolves, dubcon

—

—

Long ago, the people of Prospero were famed for their hunting dogs — great rangy animals designed to run on the burning sands for days, tireless in the face of famine and thirst, tracking down long-extinct beasts. Later, as the people discovered farming, the hunting dogs became livestock guardians instead; their limbs thickened over generations, but their teeth remained sharp, and their eyes keen. Later still, when hardship was but a tale to tell children, you were born, a squirming red bitch, the only living pup of a litter of four. Your mother was the beloved pet of a sorcerer named Ahriman, and it was he who gave you to his father, and his father who gifted you to his lover as a birthday gift. “Her name,” said the wizard’s father; a one-eyed man you would later know as Master, “is Hathor. After an ancient farming goddess.”

Hathor is your name, but your mistress calls you all sorts of things — sweetie pie, darling, fluffikins. She feeds you treats from her table, and sleeps with you pressed to her breast, even when you are larger enough to lick her face when you stand on your hind legs. In a throwback to your fierce ancestors — or perhaps as a result of your indulgent diet — you grow larger than your mother, larger than your father; a red-furred hound that glitters with jewellery, the only discomfort you know is when Mistress puts you outside of her room so that Master and her can try to make a pup. They try often, and enthusiastically, but have yet to manage it.

All that is to say that you live a coddled, cosy life — and then one day you wake, and the entire world is burning. Black ships blot out the sun; great palaces crumble under the assault of shining lights. All is chaos and screaming, fear-stink and blood-stink and Mistress calling for her mate, over and over. She calls for him as her armoured guard herd her deeper into the palace, to shelter; she calls for him as the park you used to run in explodes in a shower of black dirt and blue-red flame.

She calls for him as she is shut away into a small guard room that smells all wrong, and once inside she calls for him one last time, a weak guttering sob into your fur. You do not know how to tell her what you instinctively know to be true: that Master is Master no longer. You can only lick the salt from her cheeks and whine, switching fretfully from foot to foot.

Your ancestors were livestock guardians once, and hunters before that, and their blood runs in your veins, even if you have never raced along the golden flank of the dunes, eyes fixed on distant prey. You have never prowled the edge of a night-dark field, sheep bleating at your back, watching for the hungry eyes of would-be monsters.

But you remember. You remember.

The four-legged wolves sniff you out; the two-legged ones open up the door. Thick black smoke billows into your hiding place from behind them. The palace is burning. It is all burning. But you do not think of that, because the palace is not — was never — your home.

You do not know that the goddess Hathor was a goddess of war before she hammered her sword into a scythe; you do not know the irony in your name.

You only know that there are wolves, and behind you is your flock.

The four-leg wolf enters first in a hairy fetid spill. He is larger than you, but you surprise him, dropping your shoulder to hit his legs with your full body weight, bowling him off his feet. He was not expecting a fight, and it is his arrogance that costs him his life. Your teeth find the soft flesh of his throat before he can so much as whimper, and crush down.

Blood froths between your teeth and paints your front as you wheel to face his mate; your hackles up, your body bristling. But the she-wolf never attacks; instead, the coward retreats, whining at the loss of her companion.

The two-leg wolf enters instead: larger than most, stinking of battle. His yellow fur is matted with blood and ash. He shows his teeth in a clear threat, and says something in the two-leg tongue, addressing your Mistress. You know a few words — “Easy…girl…” — and these normally mean an attempt at peace-making, but then he reaches for her, with those great hairless paws.

What other choice do you have, but to lunge forwards, and to bite?

—

—

“I am not going to kill your mistress,” says the two-leg wolf, a while later. A new leather collar has replaced your former gem-encrusted one, and you feel vaguely guilty — insofar as a dog can feel guilt — that the leather is more comfortable against your flesh than the gold ever was. “She’s not a witch like Magnus, and she came along quietly enough. We’re just going to keep hold of her to make sure he behaves.”

You huff, and paw at the muzzle around your snout. Unlike the collar, you resent this new hardware mightily. The two-leg wolf chuckles.

“Oh, don’t sulk over that. You have to wear it. You bit me, you vicious bitch.”

He waves his hand in front of you. Much to your displeasure, the wound your fangs left healed almost instantly, clean flesh sealing over the raw red tissue.

“You’re one of a very lucky few to say that they have drawn blood from me and lived!”

He guffaws again. You hate the sound of his laughter; it reminds you of a wolf choking on a bit of meat.

He ruffles your nape. You try and snap at his fingers, knowing you cannot bite them, but wanting him to know how desperately you want to.

“Easy there. Magnus’s girls really don’t like me, do they? You. Your mistress. She almost bit my ear off when I tucked her into her quarters.”

Magnus is not Master, you snap.

“Ah. Of course. A pack leader who cannot defend his pack is no leader at all.”

You understand? you say.

“Of course I understand! Dogs, wolves — you all speak the same tongue. I was raised by wolves.”

Can tell, you say. 

Again: that ugly, ugly laugh. 

“You’re a vicious little thing. I like you.”

He takes a sip from the foul-smelling tankard held loosely in his left hand.

”I was going to bring you over to her. You can share the same rooms. Would you like that?”

Your ears prick up despite yourself. See your Mistress? There is nothing you would like more. 

“You must wear that muzzle. I don’t want to kill you, but if you draw blood on me a second time I will not hesitate to do so.”

—

—

The wolves have at least made an adequate den for Mistress, with a big bed bedecked with skins, and a roaring fire. The smell of smoke reminds you of the burning city, and the battle that still haunts your dreams — what if the wolf had been stronger, what if, what if — but you swallow down your fear and nestle close to her. She pats your ears, and hugs you close. Her eyes are red-rimmed and it is clear she has cried herself empty. The sour reek of her despair is worse than the smoke. The thick, rancid smell of despair; of a heart wrung dry. 

But she is like you: born and reared on Prospero’s ochre sands — not like once-called Master, who tumbled from the stars, and belonged neither there nor anywhere else. She is a survivor, the child of famine and destitution; her grandmothers survived warlords and raiders and worse. 

As you lie in paw-twitching slumber, you hunt wolves, chasing them down and tearing throats loose from shaggy grey fur. You wake with the taste of iron on your tongue, and the hum of exertion in your limbs. And she dreams as well — of other things, of wolves with human forms, of the stories told around campfires, and the things women do to survive. “You’re my family,” she says to you, often. “The only family I have left.”

—

—

The two leg wolf’s name, you have learned, is Leman Russ, and he is the ruler of these wolves, and of more besides; a pack large enough to span the stars. You are not impressed by such vague numbers. He still tries to bribe you with chicken legs, despite you steadfastly refusing to eat a single thing he offers you. 

But he is strong, and steadfast, and ruler here, and you are not surprised when Mistress invites him to her furs. Wolves, humans, dogs: all are lost without the protection of a pack, and Magnus is long gone, lost in the ashes of Prospero. Russ is here, and when he clambers atop your mistress you avert your eyes. He does not bother to lock you outside, as Magnus would have done, but you still feel it is impolite to watch. 

It takes him a while to satisfy himself. Hours pass, and eventually you fall asleep to the sound of the headboard banging against the wall, and Russ’s groaning and effusive praise about your Mistress’s nether regions. 

Honestly. Wolves. 

When you wake, it is to Russ fiddling with the lock on your muzzle. 

“There,” he says, easing it away from your snout. The firelight gleams on his fangs. “I think I can trust you not to bite now, eh? You’re a clever girl.”

He is talking to you. He is talking to your mistress, who lies in the furs, dozing.

When he offers you his hand, you very gently lick his palm. 

[queer-n-here]

Ango x Muscular Reader Headcannons

This for my bro 🦅 anon. I'm sorry, I accidentally deleted your original req, thank God I still remember what you asked for!

Also, *removes glasses and grimly rubs forehead* I felt kinda guilty since I wasn't able to do your recent Fyodor ask justice, so this is a compensation for that. Hope you like it.

Contents: Muscular Reader x Ango Akaguchi. Both SFW and NSFW Headcannons.

Warnings: Smut, Top male reader, Nipple play, virgin Ango, virginity loss.

SFW

I can see Ango getting slightly flustered when he first sees you.

You, a rookie ability user in the Special Division for Unusual Powers unit, greeting him formally, and the first thing Ango registers is your sheer size.

To begin with, you're 6'2", considerably taller than Ango himself at 5'8". (Yes, I looked up his height.)

Moreover, that's not all to your build. One glance at you and anyone would be able to tell you work out. Your arms are as thick as an average man's quads, to say the least. And your uniform is visibly straining against your chest; that thing is not going to last long.

But in the beginning Ango is only slightly impressed, glad to have someone who's physically strong on the team, just in case an incident like that of Tatsuhiko Shibusawa happens again. Draconia was frightening, and Ango is more than happy to have someone who would have a chance fighting against their own ability.

And then you two get partnered up for your first mission.

The only reason Ango gets put on it is because of his ability 'Decadence of Discourse'. The government needs him to unravel the location of an ability user mass bomber, who's recently escaped from prison.

It's not an easy one, and Ango feels obligated to guide you through it, but as you two unravel mystery after mystery, he slowly learns that you're not ignorant enough to be a total rookie.

So, after the mission is completed, he treats you to dinner. It's a simple gesture, but you notice the intention behind it all the same. And yet, you go.

He tries to get you drunk, but your alcohol tolerance is too much, and at the end of the day, you pretend to be wasted just to see what he'd do.

When Ango uses his ability on you, you let him, having nothing to hide. And he finds out more than enough to satisfy his curiosity.

You were in the Port Mafia before.

Despite knowing, he doesn't bring it up. You find it amusing, how he went so far to find out, and then withdrew silently.

Time passes, and Ango and you grow closer. He tries not to trust you, his job does not permit him to, yet you somehow wiggle your way into his heart, all big and strong.

Now, when you lean over him, or get too close in an elevator, he feels his face heat up, and tries his best to look away. He can't afford to have feelings, he tells himself.

And yet they're out of his control.

You notice, just how you notice everything else. Slightly amused, you tease him a little, standing a little too close when you talk to him, or leaning across him to reach things you could have grabbed either way, just feel his breath hitch.

But I mean, could you deny that you felt the same way, though? Not when Ango adjusts his glasses the way he does every time he gets flustered, a habit you notice that he wasn't aware of himself. How cute, you think.

So when you two do get into a relationship (after an adorable drunk confession from Ango and a whole morning of coaxing him to admit what he said last night) you feel quite decently accomplished in getting THE Ango Sakaguchi all red and stuttering just with a forehead kiss.

NSFW

The first time you two have sex, Ango is more than nervous, even though it's him who asked you if you wanted to do it.

So prep him gently, placing kisses along his jawline and down along his collarbone as he moans and clutches the sheets underneath him.

And when you finally put your fat cock in him, do give him time to adjust. Being a member of a confidential governmental department, dating opportunities don't come by everyday, so you'll excuse him for being a virgin, right?

Start gentle, your cock pumping in and out of Ango as he gets used to the feeling of your tip against his walls, moans spilling non-stop from his pretty mouth.

Kiss him quiet, your neighbours won't be happy at the amount of noise he's making. Or fuck him faster, each of his sounds driving you to please him more, more.

Slam into his sweet spot, and he'll arch his back off the bed, blunt nails digging into your back and drawing blood as a cry rips itself from his throat, eyes wide and tearing up.

Fuck him nice and good, till he forgets his own name, till the only thing his brain can process is your cock against his tight walls, abusing and bullying his sweet spot with such precision it makes him see stars.

Wipe away his tears before you continue to pound into him, and plant soft kisses on his face and chest. Suck on his nipples, kiss and bite them, and he'll come undone right then, hips bucking as cum shoots out of his untouched dick, hole clenching pathetically around you.

Let him come down from his high before you continue; it's only his first time, you can overstimulate him some other day, right?

When you start over, he will bury his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans and cries against your skin and just sobbing into your shoulder.

Fuck him till you come, bringing him to his second orgasm just with the feeling of your seed hitting his walls.

Pull out of him and kiss him softly, tell him he did good, and he'll smile dazedly, burying his face into your thick chest.

[peterparkersnose]

hey there, first i would like to thank you for taking my request cause i love your writing so much and it is a special request that I could only read from you, it's a joel miller x fem reader, fluff age gap (ofc not illegal), i find so much comfort in your joel's fics, so, thanks again and wishing you the best. <33

Stargazing

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: age gap, ellie plays matchmaker (common troupe), alcohol consumption, drunk confessions, mutual pining, anxiety and overthinking, this is a heavy dialouge fic, joel being awkward, just general awkwardness but fluff at the end I promise :)

a/n huge shoutout to the person who asked this! i was silly while editing this and accidentally deleted their ask, and they were kind enough to resubmit it for me. also, just a side note almost in every one of my joel fics there is an age gap, I just don't normally specify it but with this one they really deep dive in to it. I'm sorry but I am a younger person, I don't think I could write from the viewpoint of someone close to my parents age.

summary Ellie tries to set Y/N and Joel up on a date

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 13 mins 34 seconds

It was past closing time in the bar. Maria, Tommy, and Joel sat around the dimly lit bar at the last table. Tommy had assured the bartender that he would close up; Tommy was more than capable to.

“Truth or dare,” the drunk man slurred. All three of them were collectively wasted. Joel sighed, downing another shot. He felt seconds later that he shouldn’t have. “Truth.” Joel spit out. This seemed like the hundredth round of this childish game Maria insisted on playing.

“Who in all of the population here would you want to bang in bed on your last night alive?”

Joel knew the answer immediately. A secret he had been keeping to himself for the few years he has known you. And the secret he had been denying and denying for so long. He knew Tommy was fishing for something. But that last shot began to ring through his system as he spoke. He let out a disappointed sign.

“Y/N.”

Maria snorted, almost falling out of her chair. Tommy looked at Joel with his brows furrowed. “What?” Joel asked in defense. “Joel, ain’t she like 20?”

“22.” he said in defense. There wasn’t much to defend, he was a great much older than you. And Joel was more ashamed than ever. He had known you since you were 19, ever since you helped escort Ellie across the country. It felt gross, it felt wrong. But whenever he thought of you, something just couldn’t resist. Your mannerisms, the way your voice sounded, how you responded to maturely to everything. You were an old soul, one that Joel got along with well. Crossing the platonic line never crossed his mind until he settled down in Jackson.

Joel’s eyes darted to the floor. “Hey, you said anyone!” he argued. Maria could not contain her laughter, almost falling on the floor. “Whatever. You guys suck.” he said, pushing his glass of whiskey that was almost finished off towards Tommy. Joel got up and began to leave. “I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”

“Hey!” Tommy yelled after him, over Maria’s laughing. “Quit it,” he muttered at her, making her laugh even more. “Joel-”

It was too late. He drunkenly made his way down the street and to his house. The light in your bedroom was still on he noticed. Joel wasn’t being a stalker and being weird, but you were his neighbor. What were you doing up so late? Reading something he figured. Or talking with Ellie, the girl really seemed to never shut up. As he was about to turn away, you came to the window. Confused of why Joel was out so late, you opened it. The cool spring breeze entered your room.

Joel seemed to panic, and pretended to have not noticed you at all.

“Miller!” he heard you yell. He stopped in his tracts and turned around. “L/N!” he called back. The repetition of your gesture towards him made you smile.

“What you doing up so late? Don’t you have patrol with me tomorrow morning?”

Joel let out a sigh. His hands rested on his hips. “God, is that tomorrow?” he lied. He totally knew. He was looking forward to it all week. “Yup. 7 sharp. Better get to bed, old man.”

The old man comment definitely hurt his ego. He couldn’t pick up on it, but that was your way of flirting. Teasing almost. But to Joel it just proved to himself that you just wanted to be friends—when you totally wanted the opposite.

“And what are you doing up so late?”

You held up the landline phone in to view. “Ellie,” you sighed. “Get some sleep!” he called, and began to head back to his house. The vision of you in your nightgown was getting too much for him, making him realize he wanted things he never thought he could ever want again. “Goodnight Joel,” you called. He waved, and entered his house.

You flopped down on your bed after you closed your curtains. Holding your pillow over your chest, you squeezed it hard. Your stomach fluttered as you childishly re played the memory of what had just happened. Finally, your bedroom light went out.

-

“Y/N,” Ellie sang, circling into your kitchen. It was your fault for leaving the back door open on such a nice day. It unfortunately tracked in things such as unwanted Ellie’s. It was midday, your patrol with Joel had ended about an hour earlier.

“Yes?” you sang back, sitting on your couch and looking up from your book. “I have news.”

She came and sat down next to you. “And what is this news? Is it important enough to distract me from my book?” you asked. Ellie sensed your pissed off tone.“Bookmark the page. You’ll never guess what I heard.”

“Ellie, if this is gossip—” you sighed, setting the book down next to you. “It’s not gossip when it involves you,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, praying Maria didn’t share one of your embarrassing stories you confided in her. Everyone knew Maria had a big mouth. You slowly crept forward “What is it?”

“Joel has a crush on you.”

A quick laugh escaped from your lips. Ellie looked at you confused. “I-I’m telling the truth.” Your laughter continued. “I call fucking bullshit. Where did you hear that?” “Dude, Maria straight up told like everybody in the dining hall today.”

Your face scrunched. "What?"

“Your definitely fucking with me Ellie. Not funny.” you laughed.

“No!” Ellie exclaimed. “She got wasted with Joel and Tommy last night and he confessed that he would ‘bang you out of everyone in this town’ according to Maria.”

So that’s what he was doing out so late last night.

The thought of the older man that escorted you and Ellie across country a few years ago having a crush on you was absurd. Wasn’t it?

“Well, I thought you should know because remember what you said when we passed through that one small town and…”

She was waiting for you to confirm the pushed down memory that lived in your brain rent free.

It was a small midwestern town in the middle of nowhere. You and Ellie sat outside a coffee shop Joel was currently ransacking for supplies. It was a nice day like today, you and Ellie were sitting on the steps keeping watch as Joel went through the kitchen.

“You know, if the world wasn’t shit I would like my own store. Maybe a coffee shop, it sounds nice. Calm, definitely.” Ellie confided in you. “What would you be doing?”

Your foot tapped on the concrete as you thought to yourself. What would you be doing?

“I would be in college by now. For what, I’m not sure. I would have eventually liked to be married but… that’s never gonna happened.”

“Never say never. You always have Joel.”

You scoffed and giggled. But you had to admit, you had gotten to know the older man well. He was bitter, but you saw through the cracks sometimes. He was quite handsome anyways. Something about his rugged appearance and peppery hair just sat right with you. He had a few soft moments with you along the journey, patching you up after a fight or comforting you after a nightmare that Ellie didn't know about. But that was ridiculous. Ellie was talking nonsense.

You laughed out loud to Ellie’s suggestion, just like you had previously. “Don’t deny it. I see the way you look at him Y/N.”

“Your full of shit,” you joked, giving Ellie a slight push on her shoulder.

“Joel would make a nice husband though. Strong, resourceful, handsome. If I had to pick… sure. I’d be Mrs. Miller any day.”

When you said the words you wanted to suck them back in. Too soon, too much, too quickly. Ellie stared at you blankly. Joel exited the building at the perfect time with a few cans of fruit and spoons. Perfect timing. You remembered the awkward silence as you ate on the pineapple bits, but the phrase rung in your head for days.

“Mrs. Miller”

Being brought back into reality, the memory of expressing interest in Joel re lit something in you. You felt your stomach churn.

“Ah… see?” Ellie exclaimed. Your face turned red as you wanted to bury it in your book. “Mrs. Miller!” she yelled, leaving the living room towards the kitchen and out the back door.

“Ellie!” you yelled firmly, following her with your fists clenched. “Where are you going?”

“To find Joel.”

“Why?” you asked panicked, finally catching up to her on the street panting. You were more nervous than ever to hear her response. “To set you and Joel up on a date, duh!”

"Ellie!" you scolded her, looking around to make sure no one heard her. "What?" she whined, breaking away from your eye on her and making a straight line for Joel's house. To your luck, he was in his garden tending to his flowers. He hadn't seen either of you yet.

You let out a quiet shout, a simple “Ah!” as Ellie pranced down the street. You couldn't watch it, you couldn't look. You ran back in to your house and shut the back door behind you. Sliding down the back of the door and sitting on your kitchen floor, you prayed he responded positively. Or that Ellie was just trying to scare you in a ‘I’m telling the teacher but actually just asking to go to the bathroom’ way. And if Ellie actually went through with her plan, you hoped he didn't take this the wrong way. Even though you really didn't think he would. Would he?

-

It was the next day. You had refused to leave your house in sheer embarrassment. Running in to Joel right now was just a no. You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard the pattering of feet in your downstairs. Praying it was Ellie, you grabbed your knife and held your towel against your chest. "Ellie?"

"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed. You sighed. "You know, you cant just break in to my house whenever you want." you said, sticking your knife in to your banister.

"It's important!" Ellie exclaimed. "Is it important enough to wait until I can get dressed?"

"He said yes."

You were confused. "Who said yes?"

"Joel!"

Your mouth slightly dropped. "And when did I agree to this?" you asked, venturing in to your bedroom to get dressed. In all honestly, you could have stood and talked to Ellie for a few more minutes comfortably in your towel, but you wanted to hide the wide grin that couldn't seem to leave your face even if you tried.

"When you told me you wouldn't mind being Mrs. Miller," Ellie teased, acting like she was stating the obvious. You poked your head out of your door and looked down your stairs and gave Ellie a sour expression. "I only want you to be happy, that's all!"

"I'm perfectly fine as it is. I didn't need you meddling in my life."

"Well, nobody else was going to do it. We all see how your cooped up here, reading all day. We just want to make sure your okay."

You came out of your bedroom dressed, wrangling out the ends of your wet hair with a towel. You met Ellie at the bottom of the stairs. "And who is we?" you questioned. Ellie sucked her teeth. "You caught us," she chuckled, staring at her converse. "Tommy and Maria and...maybe Dina?"

You sighed audibly, closing your eyes for a moment. "All three of you! Wow." you said somewhat sarcastically.

"Ellie!" you heard a yell from outside. It was her new friend, Dina, who she was almost inseparable with.

"Gotta go." she said, opening your front door and skipping down your steps.

"Ellie- wait!"

She turned around and looked at you, you saw Dina anxiously waiting for her. "When is he coming?"

Ellie shrugged. "Dunno. He said he'd be around."

Your face scrunched in confusion. Be around...?

Before you could ask any follow up questions, the two girls were gone.

———

“This is so damn stupid,” Joel whispered to himself. His doubt was creeping in. The bouquet was hidden behind his back. Fresh picked from his garden, tied off with a bit of twine. His other hand was about to knock on your door. It wasn’t too late… 7 o’clock? You wouldn’t be in bed yet, right? Knock knock.

There was some shuffling from inside the house, and you opened the door. Almost yanked the door open, actually. Joel took a step back due to the commotion. “Joel?” you nervously asked, pretending you weren’t anxiously waiting for the random arrival of your not-so blind date all day. “W-what are you doing here?” you asked, playing dumb.

“If it’s not a good time I can-”

“Oh—no! It’s perfect, d-do you want to come in?” you asked the older man, looking up at him. Joel never seemed as intimidating as he did now. And you’ve seen him torture people before.

You let Joel in to your house as the two of you just stared at each other awkwardly. What did you really have to talk about? 

“What are those?” you asked anxiously, referencing down to the flowers in his hands.

“Oh!” he exclaims, kicking himself mentally for not remembering to give them to you. “There for you. Fresh from my garden.” 

You recognized the flower as tulips, your favorite. Joel was touched by the sparkle that came to your face once he presented them to you. Accepting them, your hands grazed his a bit. The both of you let go, almost dropping the flowers on the floor. An awkward laugh was exchanged. “Thank you, there beautiful.” you sighed in awe, moving in to the kitchen to get a glass to put them in. “How did you know tulips were my favorite?”

“Wild guess?” Joel responded. Not from Ellie prepping Joel for this date, not at all. 

“So what did you have in mind for tonight?” you asked, cutting off the stems of the tulips so they would fit in the glass jar you had filled with water. 

“Uh,” Joel mumbled. “I- you know that trail around the fence?”

“Up the mountain?” you asked him, setting the flowers down in the middle of your table. “Yeah. Your up to it?”

“That's a great idea, Joel.”

He let out his breath he was holding, thrilled that you agreed to his idea. Ellie said it was stupid, that walking the trails at night could be creepy. Ellie suggested a nice dinner, but Joel thought that was just so boring. Every date he had ever been on had basically been a nice dinner. He had this planned ever since Ellie even brought up the idea of a possible interest in pursuing Y/N.

Stargazing. 

The cool air was refreshing. You kept in rhythm with Joel. He was slower than you, and he was worrying that it would be a turn off for you. But you didn’t mind. You enjoyed taking in the silent night and the hums of nature slowly.

The moon was full and it was a clear night. The trail was overgrown, but still manageable. Joel had trekked up here earlier that day to get ready. As the clearing began to come in to view, Joel felt his anxiety rising. What if you didn’t like it? What if he put too much effort in to it and you thought it was weird? Joel was a quiet kept man, but his thoughts were screaming almost constantly. 

“Joel!” you gasped, stopping at the edge of the clearance. 

A blanket was laid on the ground with a few decorative pillows. A canteen with two cups sat on the grass along with a book and a lantern. Joel reached down and clicked the lantern open, and it began to emit a soft warm light. It wasn’t like the harsh, recreational ones that would blind you. 

“Did you do this? It’s… beautiful.”

Joel’s eyes cast up at you. “It’s nothing much…”

You sat down next to Joel on the blanket he had set out. “Nothing much?” you chuckled, taking in the beautiful view that shown over an abandoned city where Jackson got a lot of their supplies from. 

“I think this is the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me.”

“Then you obviously haven't met many nice guys,” Joel said, his voice shaking slightly. He realized how detrimental and self-deprecating that sounded and tried to re-phrase it. “You haven't been on many dates… right?”

And that now sounded predatory. “I-I mean-”

“Actually, this is my first date. Ever.”

Your confidence and comfortability answering him calmed Joel’s nerves. “I don’t mean to pry,” you began. “But did you ever have someone? Like before all this. And if you don’t want to reply that’s okay, I was just wondering but-”

Joel chuckled a bit at your eagerness. “Nah, no worries.” he re assured you, slowly moving his arm around you. Accepting his touch, you moved in to his embrace as the two of you stared up at the stars. “I had a wife- she was my ex-wife. My daughter’s mother. We had her real young, and she just wasn’t ready for the commitment of a family.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, watching a blinking star above. “It’s alright. Gave me the best life I could have ever asked for, for thirteen years.”

“And your daughter?”

Joel knew this was bound to come up sooner or later, just not this soon. He didn’t even realize he mentioned Sarah until you asked your follow up question. “She didn’t make it past outbreak day like most people didn’t.” he said bluntly. “But anyways,” he said quickly, saving the awkward response from you. “What about you? Any family?”

“Just Ellie. No relation as you know, but she’s my sister.” Joel nodded. There wasn’t much in this world, and family became what you made it. “What’s that?” you asked, perking your head up from Joel’s chest and pointing over to the grass. “What?” he asked. “The coffee or the book?”

You gasped. “You got coffee?”

He smiled and smirked. “I’ve always wanted to try coffee!” you exclaimed.

Joel looked at you with an odd look. “Your tellin’ me you've never had coffee?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “I used to have this every morning before the outbreak. Withdrawals the first few weeks were definitely difficult.” he explained as he poured you a glass. It was dark and steaming hot. “Coffee is a delicacy, dude. No one in the QZ had this where I was from. It would occasionally get passed out to the soldiers but man, that’s cool.” you said. Joel forgot—you were a post outbreak baby. You wouldn’t have known of the luxury of Starbucks or an espresso machine. “You may not like it, but it’s very unlikely.” he explained. Joel’s love for coffee was strong.

You took the first sip. It burned your tongue and tasted like dirt water. The smell was unmatchable, but the taste was just horrible. You froze, not wanting to disappoint Joel. 

Joel couldn't help it, he couldn't keep in his laughter. “Not a fan?” he asked, looking at you behind his cup as he took a sip. “It’s very…interesting?” you said, forcing yourself to take another sip. 

“Don’t torture yourself now,” Joel said, extending his hand for the cup. You gladly gave it back to him. “It was a nice thought,” you said dearly, giving him credit for his sweet gesture. “Ellie said the same thing when I made her try some. Must be a…”

He didn’t want to say it. His words came out faster than he could think. “What, a post outbreak baby thing?” you finished his sentence.

That was exactly what Joel was going for. “I mean, I didn’t mean it that way but…”

“It’s okay. Stop worrying Joel, you seem so nervous.” you flirted. “Aren't you?” Joel asked, feeling like that emotional wall was just broken down by your comment.

“Me? Oh, I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. Ellie didn’t give me a time, place, or any context other than that you were coming.” 

“Your kiddin’ me. That damn kid,” he sighed, reaching for the book on his side. “Speakin’ of Ellie.” he said, handing you the book.

“Constellations and Stars.” you said in awe.

“For kids,” you added, reading the small line under the title. “This some kind of cruel joke?” you asked Joel, opening the first page. “I promise it not,” he chuckled. “Found it in Ellie’s old storage bin she keeps in my basement. Thought it was useless, well, until now.”

“Do you see any?” you asked Joel. The two of you were laying flat on the blanket. Your head rested on his chest as his arm draped down protectively over you. Your legs were touching, feet and calves were intertwining. “The Big Dipper is always easy to find… if you look.”

You opened the book and flipped around a few pages until you found the page for the Big Dipper. “Like a kite,” you said. “Yeah, kind of like a kite.” 

After a few minutes of intense searching in the sky and enjoying your other’s companies, you found it. “Joel, I think I found it.”

“You did. I found it like five minutes ago.” he said shyly. You sighed in defeat. “I guess your just better than me.” you sighed sarcastically. “I guess I am.” Joel hummed.

“You know, back when the world wasn’t like this people would buy each other stars?” Joel asked. “That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” you laughed. “With real money? Like the physical stuff?”

“Yup.” Joel confirmed. 

“I would buy you a star if I could.” you said suddenly. Joel suddenly felt a warmth grow inside of him, one he hadn't felt for many years. He had to spit out his thought, he just had to. Didn’t want to waste an opportunity. 

“I’d buy the whole sky of stars for you.” he said softly. You looked up at him, a hand resting on his chest. “Would you really?”

“In a heartbeat.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter. You told Joel old stories about your QZ, he told you old stories about his life. Sharing what seemed like useless future plans now sounded promising with Joel. The two of you never wanted the night to end.

tag list(sorry if this appears twice tumblr is glitching currently) @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

You noticed the small wrinkles around Joel’s eyes when he smiled. When he smiled at least, you don't think you have ever seen this man so filled with so much joy before. You took in the detail of his smiling face intricately, not wanting to forget the feeling of the moment you were in. This man just said he would buy the whole sky of stars for you. You would do quite literally anything for him, but not like you wouldn’t have done it before. The feelings were very obviously now mutual. 

-

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

[luciopioid]

#2 from here. “Let me hear you make that sound again.”

yeji x f!reader

phone sex. dom yeji. she’s on tour and you miss her :(

note: I am SO sorry if you’ve just sent the yeji ask😭 I wrote about 90% of it before accidentally posting it and then having to delete it. I wanted to say that I did see it and that I thank you!!!!

You hadn't seen your girlfriend in three weeks.

Three weeks since you've been able to go over to her place and see her face, touch her hair, kiss her lips. Three weeks since you've been able to wake up in Yeji's bed and see her smiling brightly beside you. You missed her like hell. Since she's been on tour, she's rarely had time to call you.

She'd respond to your goodmorning texts well into the afternoon. She'd call you, but it would only be brief. You hated it, but understood nonetheless.

It was nights like this that you found yourself missing Yeji more than usual- in more ways than one. You were alone in your bed, in the dark room, missing her touch. Missing the way her lips felt against your skin. All of it. You couldn't barely sleep, for every time you closed your eyes it was a thought of her and only her. You decided all that was left to do was try talking to her and pray she wasn't busy. You decided to text her.

you: baby are you busy?

yeji: not at all, what's wrong?

you: are you alone?

yeji: do you need me to be?

You didn't even have time to respond before she was calling you. You felt giddy as you answered the phone almost immediately.

"Is everything okay?" Yeji asks and you feel your stomach grow tingly. She sounded so tired, and it pains you so much to say, but so hot. You were almost too lost in thought to respond.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just miss you." You say, "Wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh yeah?" She responds and you feel your legs go limp.

Yeji then goes on to tell you about her day, what time she woke up, what she did in the new city she was visiting. Anything that came to her mind and you couldn't help but be content for this was all you've wanted for days but also extremely turned on. It'd been weeks since you've last seen her, days since you've heard her voice. You also couldn't help the hand that sneaked between your legs while she was talking.

You surprised yourself at how wet you were, but when it came to Yeji, it was never out of the ordinary. She always seemed to have this effect on you. Even if she was miles away.

"Why'd you get so quiet? Are you okay?" She asks, abruptly.

"I'm fine. Keep talking." You say in one breath.

"Please."

You can almost hear Yeji grin through the phone.

"Oh." Is all she says. You try not to let a moan slip.

"That's why you asked if I was alone." She says to herself.

"Getting off to the sound of my voice," She clicks her tongue. "You miss me that much?" She tries to tease you, but you take it as an opportunity to let all walls down and audibly let out a whimper as your middle fingers still circled your clit.

You could barely respond. "I can hear how wet you are, you poor thing." She says lowly.

"Wish...wish you were here." You confess between moans. "It's not the same alone. I need you." You didn't care how desperate you sounded. All you knew was that you wanted her here with you more than anything else right now.

"I know, I know," Yeji coos. "But this will have to suffice for now, princess."

You moan at the sound of her calling you that. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge.

"I'd give up anything to be there beside you. To be kissing you.. to be fucking you." She whispers.

You tried imagining your fingers as hers, tried imagining her mouth on your neck and on your tits.

You whined at the thought.

"Fuck." Yeji says. "Let me hear you make that sound again, baby."

You whine wantonly as you feel your stomach clenching, your fingers still massaging your needy clit. You moan her name into the phone, praying that she took your question about her being alone as a command.

Moments pass as you come down from your high, chest heaving and jaw slack. “Miss you so much,” you tell her again as you try catching your breath.

“Me too, princess.” Yeji says. “Can't wait to have you like that in person…”

[briardoll]

Having a fight with Levi:

Leviathan: *sob* I have to *sob* *sniffle* start ALL over!!

*you accidentally deleted his save data T^T how could you !?*

MC: Levi I’m sorry, I thought I pressed save!

Leviathan: I knew it! You hate me! You never wanted to be friends with a yucky otaku like me!

MC: That’s not true! It was really just an accident, I would never do something mean to you on purpose!

Leviathan: You’re lying! I know you did that just to ruin my day, —scratch that, my next 3000 years!!!

MC: please calm down, we can fix this! I’ll play it back for you! I’ll bring it right to where you saved it last!

Leviathan: *crying in bathtub bed* No, just go away, you’re not the Henry to my Lord of Shadows anymore!

MC: *after finding that you can regain your deleted saved data if you pay a small fee* Levi! Look! I got it all back for you!

Leviathan: Y-you did? How?

MC: All I had to do was pay five grimm to get it back!

Leviathan: You did that for me!? Thank you MC thank you thank you!! Ah I’m so sorry for what I said! You’re a true friend, the TRUEST friend and you’ll always be my Henry!

*You and Levi play video games all night the end*