#this is what happens when you tell me to write the starter help
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I don't know if anyone has asked this already, but I really really need to know if goldilocks is gonna have any romantic development between agent powers and Bill, where Bill does feel a certain thrill for the whole dating scene. I honestly had never thought of them as a pair before, but with your fic I'm genuinely in need of any content at all where there's a certain mutual romantic/sexual tension between the two, and I really wanna know if you plan on expanding a bit on it, because after all Billford is the endgame, but idk if this is gonna be a plot point where Ford experiences jealousy (bc I'd eat up that too, honestly, anything u write makes me a bit insane) or if the manipulation is as far as we're getting with these two. Thank you for writing!!!
I'm gonna stick this one under a read more since this is the kind of plot point I don't mind spoiling, but that some readers might not want to have spoiled.
EDIT: this sure is a hell of a post for tumblr's "move the read more down one paragraph before posting without telling you" bug to kick in. Fixed.
Powers is gonna pop back in and out of the plot for the rest of the fic, the fake dating will continue, and it's possible they might hook up more than once idk yet that's the kind of minor detail that's too far out for me to have plotted yet; but, the emotions are gonna be pretty much one-sided.
Bill does find a few things he actually likes about Powers (he appreciates a human who yearns to Solve The Mysteries), but in the grand scheme of things, it's like finding a gold watch in a parking lot. It doesn't make you wanna buy the whole parking lot. To Bill, Powers has more dealbreakers than positive traits. (Like... working for the government, for starters.)
And he'll be quite happy to hook up with him, but not due to any attraction to Powers himself; Bill's just turned on by other people being attracted to him. Powers is a warm body that offers Bill attention and physical pleasure, and 90% of the time attention & pleasure is all Bill wants out of people. (The other 10% of the time he wants a portal.)
So there's gonna be like... a cold-hearted femme fatale vs naive rival spy type dynamic here. There's some kinda tension, it gets steamy, but plot twist the femme fatale felt nothing for the spy the whole time. Except it's not a plot twist because we're following Bill's POV instead of Powers's so it's not a surprise.
Ford knows Bill too well to be jealous over somebody Bill's manipulating; and he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who gets jealous over physical intimacy. Bill could bang half the town and Ford wouldn't get jealous until he hears that Bill's been helping someone out on their quantum physics doctoral thesis. He maybe gets jealous over emotional intimacy, but he definitely gets jealous over intellectual intimacy.
(Like,, the one time in the fic so far that he's gotten jealous—not even in a romantic sense, just in general!—is when he saw Bill playing chess with Mabel. Bill playing chess with a kid gets Ford more jealous than Bill banging an utterly smitten suitor and that tells you everything you need to know about Ford's priorities.)
If anything, he actually pities Powers because he knows the guy's getting used and doesn't deserve it.
There is someone else later on that Ford might be getting jealous of (depending on what order events end up happening in—i.e., whether it's still going on AND whether Ford knows about it once his emotions start to turn), but that character hasn't been introduced yet.
There's also someone Bill might be getting jealous of depending on whether I find a way to work them into the plot. I hope I do, I've got a couple killer scenes in mind for them.
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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 | 𝐟𝐭. nova hayes ( @feastonkings ) at heaven's night strip club
on any other night, malcolm might be carrying himself with at least a modicum of stoic reserve while within the walls of hedonistic paradise built and run by the hand of the mata haris ; after all, he is not only their muscle for enforcement, but a guard dog for them, leashed and obedient. and always watching. an extra set of eyes in a pleasure den of this size is never a disadvantage, and though he does not carry the official title of security, his looming presence in the darker corners of the strip club is often all the encouragement their unrulier patrons need to correct their behavior. but tonight, mac isn't at heaven's night for the mata haris ; he's here for his brother. and, as a matter of fact, they're celebrating! jericho is fresh off a series of heavy-hitting wins in the ring and, deciding to lay off coaching for the rest of the night in favor of being a good older brother, mac declares that he's deserving of a few rounds of drinks ― on his tab, of course, because christ knows jer's done enough for him over the past few years.
but malcolm doesn't even really know where jericho is at this point in the night ; it's been at least half an hour and a handful of shots since he last saw his younger brother, but if he had to guess, he's likely been whisked off by one of the girls and he's getting a private dance behind some curtain or closed door. good on him. mac, on the other hand, he's not interested in dances. he'd rather have drinks. don't let his dramatic show of hesitation fool you as he's ushered back to the bar in a crowd of friends and strangers alike, it's all drunken theatrics ― they're keeping count of how many shots he can knock back before he topples like a rotten redwood. taking bets, too, he thinks, but he's lost track of who's winning. ( he is, if you were to ask him ― he's not paid for half of his drinks tonight. ) .
❝ alright, alright ! one more, one more, ❞ mac concedes as he stumbles toward the bar with palms raised in defeat ; his laughter carries through the open space surrounding the bar, even over the din of the other patrons. ❝ yer not gonna stop 'til i'm on the floor then, aye? ❞ he reaches for a round of . . . mother of fuck, he doesn't even know what he's drinking anymore ( and it's not like he can taste it to tell, either ) but he downs it in a swift swallow and slams his glass on the bar top. when he turns around to claim a rowdy victory over another round, a glazed and wobbling gaze scans the room. in search of what? he's not sure. but his unusually jovial expression drops when he spots a ghost in a flash of neon across the room. it's just as quickly snatched away by strobing darkness and mac wonders for a moment if maybe he has had one too many shots. he didn't even realize he was that bad, but when's the last time he's had a hallucination on booze alone? no tablets or pills or drops?
another flash of light ― this time an electric shade of violet ― and there she is again. his hand finds the nearest shoulder to him and, without breaking his line of sight, malcolm pats their shoulder and excuses himself from the crowd. stumbling through the crowd, transfixed in a hazy and disbelieving daze, he keeps his eyes locked on her best he can under the pulsating lights. and then, when he's close enough, ❝ nova?! ❞
#𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐌 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 | interaction#nova hayes | 001#four paragraphs and only a SINGLE WORD of dialogue kit fuck#for her at least#this is what happens when you tell me to write the starter help#i honestly could have kept going too but we'll save his actual reaction for the next round
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𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader
summary | during a nighttime walk, playful banter with minho turns into heartfelt confessions and a romantic kiss under the stars
warnings | fluff, romance, kissing
word count | 2.0 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
▫️minho masterlist
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The KISS campus is quiet tonight. The lights of the main building flicker softly, and a cool breeze rustles through the trees. After weeks of studying and school activities, Min-ho—the most arrogant yet intriguing guy on campus—had suggested taking a nighttime walk. You’re still not sure if it was because of your blatant insistence that he wasn’t as perfect as he thought he was or if he just wanted to prove you wrong.
"So, what makes you think I’m not perfect?" he asks, a mischievous grin on his face.
Min-ho walks beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black leather jacket. He’s so comfortable in his own skin it’s almost intimidating. You can’t help but notice how the streetlights accentuate the perfection of his features, but you’re not about to tell him that. That would only inflate his ego even more.
"For starters, your ego already takes up all the space on this sidewalk," you reply, turning to look at him with a defiant smile.
"Oh, come on. Is that the best you’ve got?" he teases, pretending to be offended as he stops in front of you. His gaze is intense, but the playful glint in his eyes softens the moment.
You cross your arms, feigning disinterest.
"Besides, you always act like the world revolves around you."
"Doesn’t it?" he quips quickly, raising an eyebrow.
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. Min-ho has this infuriating ability to annoy you and make you laugh at the same time. It’s frustrating yet addictive.
As you continue walking, he shifts the conversation. He starts talking about his family, about how he misses certain things from home despite his seemingly perfect life in Seoul. It’s a side of him you rarely see, and you’re surprised at how honest he’s being.
"I didn’t know you had a vulnerable side," you say softly, more to yourself than to him.
"I don’t show it to just anyone," he admits, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
Your heart skips a small beat. You know that behind all that popular-guy bravado, there’s so much more to him than he lets on.
"Why me?" you ask without thinking, stopping under a tree where the lights barely reach.
Min-ho also stops, turning to face you. His expression shifts, becoming more serious.
"I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t try to impress me. You’re just yourself, and that’s… refreshing."
For a moment, you’re speechless. You feel warmth rising to your cheeks but manage to keep your composure.
"That sounds pretty cliché, don’t you think?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maybe, but it’s true," he says with a soft smile.
The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s as if both of you are processing what just happened, though neither of you says it out loud.
"Do you want to go to the lookout point?" Min-ho suggests suddenly, nodding toward a path that disappears into the trees.
You nod, following him without a second thought.
The lookout point is empty when you arrive. From there, you can see the lights of Seoul sparkling in the distance. It’s a peaceful place, perfect for thinking and talking without interruptions.
"It’s beautiful," you murmur, leaning on the railing as you take in the view.
"It is," Min-ho replies, but when you turn your head, you realize he’s not looking at the lights; he’s looking at you.
Your heart races, but you don’t look away.
"You should stop doing that," you say, trying to sound confident.
"Doing what?" he asks, leaning in slightly closer.
"Looking at me like…" you trail off, unable to find the right words.
"Like what?" he presses, his voice lower, softer.
You feel the distance between you shrinking. It’s as if the world around you has paused.
"Like you want to kiss me," you confess in a whisper.
Min-ho smiles—that smile that always annoyed you but now feels different, more genuine.
"And what if I do?" he asks, his face only inches from yours.
Your breath catches for a moment. You know you could step back, break the moment, but you don’t.
"Then stop talking and do it," you reply before you can stop yourself.
Min-ho doesn’t need to be told twice. He closes the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost as if he’s testing the waters. But when he realizes you’re not pulling away, that you’re kissing him back, the kiss deepens, filled with emotion.
It’s as if all the walls that had existed between you disappear in that instant. The arrogant guy and the girl who always challenged him finally find themselves on the same page.
When you pull apart, both of you are breathless. Min-ho looks at you, his smile wider than ever.
"Does that answer your question?" he asks, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Maybe," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, though the blush on your cheeks gives you away.
"You’re impossible," he says, laughing as he leans in to kiss you again.
And for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.
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Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!
“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted.
“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?”
Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.”
She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder.
“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.”
///
“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.”
He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over.
“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.”
There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.”
“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him.
“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.”
The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.”
///
“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place.
“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him.
What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate.
You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away.
“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?”
You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick.
“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there.
///
The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said.
Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him.
It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away.
“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.”
Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.”
When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before.
His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again.
The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode.
“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question.
“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-”
“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t.
///
“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.”
“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.”
Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…”
“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship.
“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…”
Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset.
He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.”
///
“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled.
Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could.
The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time.
Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that.
The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage.
When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.”
Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?”
“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.”
“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…”
She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?”
Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.”
You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.
“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it.
“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?”
///
Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed.
“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on.
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little.
This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over.
“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie.
“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning.
“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents.
“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be.
~6 Months Later~
“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?”
Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-”
“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door.
Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side.
“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving.
“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.”
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take your medicine
pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader
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rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: *tv sales advert voice* so you've been finding it hard to reach orgasm? lucky for you, our best-selling item "hunky boyfriend joel" is on sale at half price. shipping is free, and he is very determined to help you achieve your goals! call the number on your screen to buy now! OR your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen. warnings/tags: set in the early 2000s aka early thirties joel my lover boyyyy, boyfriend joel, depression [nothing dark or sad], anti-depressants, brief discussion of food/eating, cigarette smoking [f], soft!supportive!joel, mentions of masturbation [f], unprotected piv sex, use of a sex toy, ride 'em cowgirl (1939) dir. samuel diege, cream pie, dirty talk, joel talks you through it. word count: 2.9k masterlist a/n: so this one is.... self-indulgent. shout out to all my friends on anti-depressants that are strugglin' to reach orgasm. me too, pals, me too. and there will be no medication shaming on this account, no there will not! so happy sunday, i hope someone else out there enjoys this short little thing with me x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing
Medication is a journey, they say. Every day will be different.
Medication is not the end all be all, they say. We can always try different avenues.
Six months on, now.
Six months since Let’s try the Zoloft for a few months.
Six months since We can reassess in April.
It’s June and summer has settled over Austin with a hot wet vengeance. April came and went with a mutual agreement that you weren’t ready to be weaned off yet. A gentle hand on your forearm and a softly spoken Why don’t we check in again in July?
A low dose. A starter dose. A you shouldn’t experience too many side-effects dose.
And she was right – for the most part. There were no headaches, no nausea, no dizzy spells, no changes in appetite. That shallow, low mood that’d been haunting you for months suddenly began to lift. Begrudging exercise in the afternoons, a three-meals-a-day regiment implemented by your boyfriend, and a happy little pill with every morning coffee.
But fuck – you can count the number of orgasms you’ve had since January on one hand.
Countless nights spent alone in your bed, tangled betwixt sweaty sheets, fingers and forearm cramping until you finally give up. Drink a cold glass of water, wet your face, and go to bed frustrated; a routine disappointment.
You’d gotten lucky a few times, of course. Vibrator on the highest setting possible, pussy all puffed up and numb from the rough speed. Frustrated tears in your eyes, lightheaded by the time you finally feel that sweet sweet relief coursing through your veins.
A few times with Joel, too, in those first few months. And ignorance was bliss—quite literally—until he caught onto what you’d been doing.
“What was different tonight?” he’d asked you on one of those nights, laid out beside each other in his bed. Chests heaving, satisfied smiles spread across your faces.
Your hand had paused against his head, fingers twisted up in his sweaty curls, and you hesitated. So quick, the briefest pause before trying to play it off, but he caught it. Always too perceptive, too watchful of an eye; especially since you’d been diagnosed.
“What’s wrong?” Joel frowned.
“I… didn’t… my…” you’d mumbled, face tucked against his pillow.
“Can’t hear you when you do that,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Baby?”
“I didn’t take my meds today,” you repeated, voice still low, still wary. But you could tell he heard you. Knew from the way his body stiffened beside you. From how when you looked over his smile had dropped, eyebrows pinching inward.
For a moment he didn’t even say anything. He hardly breathed. And then—Darlin’, why would you do that?—so painfully soft, the faintest tinge of worry in that deep, rasping voice of his.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, and something hot began to burn behind your eyes. Wet, pinching shame. “Just… I woke up and I wanted you. And I wanted it to feel like it used to for us, and I can never… you know I can’t finish when I’m on them, and I hate feeling like I’m disappointing you—”
“Baby,” Joel shook his head, strong hand cupping your jaw. His forehead knocked against yours; a tender but firm kind of insistence. The type that says look me in the fucking eyes and listen up. “You’re not disappointin’ me.”
“Joel,” you sighed, face hot, foreheads tacky where they pressed together.
“No,” he grunted. “I fuckin’ mean it. This stuff takes time, okay? We’ll figure it out the way we always do. Just… don’t do that again. Please.”
“I won’t,” you murmured feebly, nose smushed against his.
“Promise me,” Joel had urged you. “Promise me you’ll take your medicine.”
“I promise, Joel.”
You kept strong on that promise. Didn’t get frustrated when he’d stay over more nights than usual, or drag you back to his place in the evenings – all just to watch you pop that little white pill in the mornings.
It brought out something new in him, the day you’d showed him the prescription. Like some instinctual protectiveness was unlocked and he just kicked into hyperdrive.
Cutting work early to drive you to your doctor’s office, cooking up different meals every night for dinner.
Most days you wake up alone in his bed; wipe the sleep out of your eyes as you wander downstairs. Let him nudge you into a chair at the table, beside Sarah, so he can set identical bowls of cereal in front of the two of you—his girls. Hell, if you had a dollar for every time that man has said Breakfast is the most important meal of the day in the past six months, you’d have more money than you could spend.
Joel didn’t even get mad when you started smoking again in May.
Didn’t bat an eye when he found you at two in the morning, sat on the back porch in one of his sweatshirts with the smell of tobacco staining your fingers.
“Been a long time since I seen once of those in your mouth,” he’d smirked, settling onto the stoop beside you.
“I’m sorry,” you grimaced, remembering how proud he’d been when you quit. He rested his head against your shoulder, eyes watering with a yawn.
“S’late,” he grumbled sleepily. “N’you smell now.”
“I’m sorry,” you’d repeated, stamping the cigarette into the concrete. “Today was just… hard. Couldn’t sleep.”
“S’okay,” Joel told you. “Just don’t like it when you sneak out on me, yeah? You know I ain’t judgin’ you.”
The only thing that frustrates Joel, is that he comes, and you don’t.
And it’s not a frustration with you. No, it’s a hot faced guilt that spreads through him every time you fuck. Evident in those frantic touches, desperate pleas of your name, of tell me what to do, tell me how to help, of fuck I’m sorry.
Because you still want him, despite it all. Still can’t help your wandering hands, your fingers that tease back his bed sheets and then his boxers and coax orgasm after orgasm out of him, night after night.
Tonight, you thought, would be no different.
Covers strewn across the end of your bed, pillows askew, you sit astride his lap.
It’s hot; the AC in your apartment has been broken all week, and your thighs are tacky with sweat where they press against his skin. Everything wet – sweat in your hair, slick between your thighs, the soft squelching sound that raises with every press of his cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” Joel pants, hands tight against your waist. “I can’t—goddammit, I’m not gonna last, baby.”
“It’s okay,” you moan, eyelids heavy as you rock your hips over his.
It’s late, and you both have work early in the morning, but the burn is so good like this. The heavy weight of him reaching so far, pushing the limits of what your body can take. For years it’s been your favourite way to fuck him; poised above his body, admiring the way his stomach tightens and his eyes roll when you sink down on his cock.
“What can I do?” his voice is strained, the veins in his neck bulging as he holds his breath – anything to stave off the impending high.
You only whimper pathetically, grinding your hips into his. Can feel everything in your stomach knotting up into a white-hot ball.
“Hey,” Joel urges, hand landing in a soft slap against your outer thigh. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know,” you cry out, shaking your head. “It’s right there, but I…”
“But what?” he murmurs, hips snapping up again.
“I don’t think I can,” you finally admit, eyebrows drawn tight in frustration. Your lower lip is bitten raw at this point, incessantly gnawed at by your own teeth. His grip tightens on your hips and he drags you upward until his length slips out, falling against his stomach with a wet smack.
“C’mon, tell me what you need,” he says quickly, and you’re sure that the desperation you see in his eyes is mirrored in your own. Pupils blown round and fat, endless black—pleading.
You stare down at him for a moment. Watch the way his chest heaves with harsh, stilted breathes. How little dots of sweat have gathered at the hollow of his throat. And fuck, you want it so bad.
“Top drawer,” you exhale roughly, pointing to the side table.
Joel doesn’t question the order. Doesn’t say a word as he spreads a long arm across the bed, yanking the drawer open and shoving his hand inside. You watch him rifle around for a moment, pulse increasing as you wait for him to find what you want. What you need. And you can tell when he does; his shoulders stiffen and he lets out a choked sort of sound, pulling out the black wand and shoving it into your hand.
“Show me,” he says, eyes wild.
Your finger drops down against the button, turning your hand to show him which one to press.
“There’s four settings,” you murmur, slipping it back into his palm.
“Does this normally help?” he asks, grunting softly as you grip his cock, notching the tip back at your entrance.
“Sometimes,” you sigh, sinking down, sucking in the heavy weight of him. “Can still take a—a little while.”
He presses the button tentatively, watching as the rounded head of the wand starts to vibrate. Spread open around him, he can see your swollen little clit so easily, and he lowers the wand to press against it. Your body jolts forward, mouth splitting open with a groan as heat flares through you. Your hips stutter against him instinctively, chasing that intense feeling, and he looses a gravelly moan at the feeling of your wasted cunt squeezing around him.
“Look at that,” Joel grunts, dark eyes trained on your face. That wicked pink tongue slips out to wet his lips and he nods in encouragement. “I know, baby, I know it’s a lot, you feel good?”
“Yes,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you settle into the feeling. “Fuck, yes, it’s good, it’s good.”
It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before; nothing your past boyfriends had ever been comfortable enough to try. It has the muscles in your thighs tensing up already; the thick press of his cock paired with that unrelenting, almost overbearing, vibration.
“Can feel it,” he hisses out, head tilting back into the mattress.
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he nods, expression grim. The muscle in his jaw twitches. “So fuckin’ tight like this. All wound up, y’need it so bad, I know.”
You moan, eyelids fluttering as he presses the button again, notching it to a higher speed. You lift up slowly and then press back down over him, and the two of you groan in unison. His free hand falls against the curve of your ass and he squeezes, encouraging you to rock against him, starting up a steady pace.
One of your hands settles on your chest, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. You need more, always more, something, anything.
“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” Joel mutters, and you can tell how fucked out he is already as he watches you. Dark eyes glazing over, mouth hanging open deliriously. “My pretty girl, so damn good for me.”
Your heart stumbles in your chest and you whimper, appreciation for him flooding your senses. He’s been so close for so long tonight already, teetering precariously on that edge but holding off for you. Fucking you into the mattress before pulling out and tucking his face between your thighs, doing his damnedest to get you to that same place. Urging you to get on top, to take what you needed, to use him to get yourself off.
“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly, eyes pinching closed as something sharp starts to tingle at the bottom of your stomach.
“Fuck, fuck,” Joel snarls, hips snapping upward.
“What ar—” your words cut off with choked moan as he clicks the button again, and then again, taking it to the highest speed. Your shoulders shake and you tilt forward a little, hand gripping his shoulder to steady yourself.
“Joel,” you cry out, chest heaving and stomach tightening.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist, searching for something to ground yourself against. That firm press against your clit doesn’t falter for a second, and you let out a rough moan.
“Good,” he grunts. “Good girl, give it to me.”
The muscle in his bicep spasms and strains beneath the skin, everything pulled taut as he keeps the wand pressed firmly against you. And it’s almost painful, the way you can feel your high coiling inside you, burning, but never quite reaching fever pitch the way you need it to.
A symphony that builds and billows and writhes within you. Sloping swells of violins and cellos and trumpets. Up, up, up to that shattering crescendo you just can’t seem to reach.
“Joel,” you mewl, and there’s tears in your eyes, on your cheeks. Hot, fat tears that stain your face now, dripping from your chin to splatter against his chest.
“C’mon now,” he grunts, hips shifting up off the bed, meeting you thrust for thrust. The stretch of his cock is so wide, so deep, and every shift of his body punches the air from your lungs.
“I don’t know if I can,” you shake your head, stomach on fire. The vibrations are so intense, the speed so fast, you can feel your clit going numb beneath it. But Joel doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop the fast pace of his hips. The muscles in his abdomen twitch under you, tan skin glistening with sweat.
“You’re so close,” he goads, jaw tight. “Don’t fight it, baby.”
“Stop moving,” you beg then, your voice a high keen. Joel stills instantly, wary eyes darting across your face. He doesn’t pull the vibrator away though. Not yet.
“Fuck,” you cry out, hand firm against his stomach. “Just let me-just—”
Knees on fire against the bed, you grind your hips down into his. Gasp as his cock presses hot and heavy against something deep inside of you that sets your entire body shaking, vibrating against him; buzzing at the same high-speed rhythm as the wand between your legs. You rut against him again and again and then something pulls tight and hot at the base of your spine.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes widening. “Oh god, Joel, I think—”
“Shh, I know, I know,” he moans. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline to his chin. “You’re okay, let it happen.”
“Touch me,” you say, breathless and needy and so so desperate. “Fuck, please.”
Joel groans – a deep, guttural thing. A sound that comes from somewhere in the base of his stomach. It rattles your bones and has your fingernails digging into his stomach, and then his hand is on your chest. Rough fingers squeezing and stroking and pinching and you’re gasping, keening his name as he whispers frenzied words of encouragement and it’s building it’s building it’s building and and and—
Everything goes silent when you come. It’s all blurred vision and deafened ears; an intense ache in your jaw from the way your mouth hangs open. You can feel a vein in your neck, raging beneath the skin; a staccato rushing sound that echoes inside your head.
And you think you can hear Joel’s voice, somewhere beyond it all; Fuck, there it is, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.
When your eyes flutter open, you can only see Joel’s face swimming in your vision. His eyes rolling back, lips parted as he snarls your name.
“Fuck,” he spits. “—yeah, that’s it, there we fuckin’ go.”
You feel his cock kick inside of you; fast jerking spasms and then a warm rush as he starts to come. Your hand wraps around his, pushing the wand to the side of the bed, but he doesn’t fucking stop. He grips your waist and fucks up into you, spitting curses and warbled slurs of your name as he pumps you full of his hot spend.
It’s obscene – a mix of your come and his, squeezing out around his girth and smearing against the inside of your thighs. It pools around the base of his cock and you whimper at the sight, swollen cunt still tightening around him. Only when you start to sag down against his chest does he rest, his thighs twitching and tensing with the aftershocks of his high.
Joel raises a hand, calloused thumb brushing the tears from your cheeks. Then, carefully, he grips the back of your neck, guiding you down to rest against his chest.
Your shoulders slump and you press a lazy kiss against the jut of his collarbone. And for a moment there’s just this. No sounds but that of heavy breaths and a soft buzzing, forgotten somewhere in the sheets. The swipe of his fingertips down your spine, your lips against his salty skin. A gentle tap against your waist and he’s slipping out of you with a sigh, but not letting you pull away, not letting you move from where you’ve collapsed directly on top of him.
“Missed that,” you slur sleepily, fighting to keep your eyes open.
“Me too,” he mumbles. “Did so good. Made me proud.”
“S’that right?” you smile against his skin.
“S’right, baby.”
You hum, dragging your head up to press a kiss against his mouth. Both of you so exhausted that it’s just a brief, lazy swipe of your lips, but it’s enough. It’s thank you.
“Shower?” he suggests softly, smiling up at you.
“Or… cigarette?” you respond, eyebrows raised, teasing.
“Watch it,” he smarts, laying a quick smack against your ass before nudging you off of him. He stands and holds out a hand to help you off the bed, tutting underneath his breath. “Although I guess you’ve earned it.”
a/n: in hindsight, idk why the fuck i wrote that it took them six months to try this but what can you do lmao.
thank you for reading! x
#my writing#fic: take your medicine#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot
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Hello, babes. How was practice? I'm Maven, your tumblr hockey mom. Below you'll find a complete masterlist of imagines, series, and OC chapters as well as prompt requests!
One more thing before you go:
- I don't do hockey romance novel-type writings. I play by reality and the way of the sport.
- I won't write the reader as the Taylor Swift of the hockey world where she's in the limelight at every game she attends, caught on camera, noticed by fans, ect.
- I'm more confident with fluff/domestic slice-of-life things, but I'll dabble in the spicy stuff, just not as eagerly or as often as the other.
- Minors, DNI with the you-know-what, or I'll ground you!
Submit your requests with their corresponding order number with any added details you'd like! 🩷
🎀 Fluff prompt starters:
F1-- "Can we just stay in bed?"
F2-- "You're cute when you make that face."
F3-- "Have you had enough to eat today?"
F4-- "Don't get up, I'll do it."
F5-- "You don't get enough sleep."
F6-- "Could you play with my hair?"
F7-- "Are you okay? Your face looks a little red."
F8-- "You're cute when you're half asleep like this."
F9-- "Can we share the blanket?"
F10-- "Just one more hug before I go."
F11-- "Do you want anything while I'm up/out?"
F12-- "Teach me?"
💔 Hurt/Comfort prompt starters:
H/C1-- "How long have you felt like this?"
H/C2-- "I know you're mad at me, but would a kiss make it better?"
H/C3-- "Please don't shut me out right now."
H/C4-- "Shh, it was just a bad dream. Whatever happened wasn't real."
H/C5-- "It's okay to cry."
H/C6-- "You lied to me."
H/C7-- "I didn't know where else to go."
H/C8-- "Let me help you, please."
❤️ Romance prompt starters:
R1-- "I'd feel a lot better if you'd let me take you home."
R2-- "They don't compare to you. No one does."
R3-- "I've always wanted to walk home in the rain."
R4-- "You've never looked so beautiful."
R5-- "Let me tell you how much you mean to me."
R6-- "Will you dance with me?"
R7-- "I'm going to marry you one day."
🫦 Dark Quinn starters: (currently on a hiatus from these atm)
D1-- "Look at me or I'll stop."
D2-- "It kills me to think of you with anyone else but me."
D3-- "You're not leaving dressed like that."
D4-- "Are you trying to make me angry?"
D5-- "If you're on your best behaviour, I'll reward you."
D6-- "I don't care what your friends have planned, you're not leaving this apartment tonight."
D7-- "I crave your affections, but I crave your silence more. Quiet, princess."
Pretty Boy Blues | You notice Quinn dealing with some troublesome skin issues, and you ask to help him. | No content warnings apply
Last Call | You're late getting home from a night out with the girls. Quinn's pacing waiting for you. Where could you be? | Implied alcohol consumption
Sleeping Beauty | Quinn learns of you having fainting spells while he's been away on the road. | Implied depression-induced eating disorders
Post-practice Cuddles | Quinn returns from practice in pain and needs your to help to get his mind off of it. | No content warnings apply
Take Your Pick | You let Quinn pick your outfit for the day. | Suggestive themes; implied sexual interactions
Baby me | Quinn refuses to take his medicine. | No content warnings apply
Plague-bringer | Quinn tests positive for Covid. | No content warnings apply
Leave Me Where I Lie | You get sick in the middle of the night and Quinn comes looking for you. | No content warnings apply
Princess on Board | Quinn and yourself go on a short road-trip and you're well prepared, crown included. | Implied daddy dom/brat aesthetic
Partners in Crime | Quinn insists on helping you make breakfast. | Mild bratty-reader aesthetic
Kitchen Kisses | Quinn and yourself stay in on New Year's Eve and welcome the new year alongside a batch of cookies. | No content warnings apply
Detour | Quinn has other plans before you fly out of Vancouver for the holidays. The ring box in his pocket might be why. | No content warnings apply
From Me: With Love | You finally get to give Quinn his custom gift for Christmas | No content warnings apply
When it Rains it Pours | Your day goes from bad to worse while trying to get the apartment ready for Quinn's return. | Mild reader bodily injury, mentions of blood
A Night In | Quinn picks you up for your birthday but takes you to his apartment instead of a restaurant. | No content warnings apply
Two Lines | Your cycle is late. Are you pregnant? | Anxiety themes
Tease Me | Quinn is week-to-week with his hand injury and is getting bored of not being on the ice. | Mild adult themes
Just Because | Quinn brings you a surprise to apologize for something out of his control. | No content warnings apply
Knock, Knock | You rush to Quinn's apartment following the high-sticking during the Lightning game. | Brief descriptions of bodily injury, blood, and mild adult themes
Cold Sheets | You're struggling with insomnia when Quinn comes looking for you in the middle of the night. | No content warning apply
Broken Glass | Your car gets totaled en route to Rogers Arena. | Graphic descriptions of bodily injury, emotional distress, and reader in pain
Broken Glass Pt 2 | Weeks after your car wreck, Quinn gives you one simple rule to follow. | 18+, dominate partner, emotional manipulation
Coupons | You go grocery shopping with Quinn before he leaves to go back on the road. | Separation anxiety, and mild depressive thoughts
Bang-bang, Kiss-kiss | You break off your relationship with Quinn. | Emotional distress, anxiety, heartbreak, and blame
Damaged Goods | You attend a home game and all hell breaks loose. | Depictions of bodily injury, and blood
Chapter I | A Chance Meeting
Episode 1 | Season opener: Flames v. Canucks
Episode 2 | Thanksgiving
Chapter I | Red String of Fate
A Second Cup | You have an unfortunate run-in with Jeremy Swayman | No content warnings apply
A Casual Approach to Romance | Connor Bedard waits till the last minute on Valentine's Day.
#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes one shot#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey oneshot
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RULE BREAKER (M)
PAIRING: rockstar!mark lee & fem!reader
GENRE: rockstar au! band au! pwop
SUMMARY: another city, another girl, another broken rule.
WC: 3.3k
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drugs, cursing, explicit sexual content, fingering, pretty tame smut ngl, spanking, choking, hair pulling
NOTE: this was just to get me back in the groove of smut writing since it's been a couple months. this is also a submission for @nctpromptmeme . this is prompt 1 of this list!
mark lee knows it’s against the rules to take a fan backstage.
it’s not the venues rules. staff members barely spare a glance when he tangles his fingers in yours and pulls you down the nearly abandoned hallways just left of the stage. he doesn’t get a second look from a wandering sound engineer when he escorts you through the jungle of metal rails supporting the stage from beneath. and no one bats an eye when he slips past security to an empty green room nearing the back of the building.
it’s not his own personal rule either. mark has done this plenty of times; choosing someone within the first few rows at his concert, playing up the eye contact, having a security guard slip them a note telling them to wait up after the concert — and it almost never fails. after the band bids goodnight, and fans filter out on the street, mark hops back on stage to greet his lucky winner.
and they’re always there, eyes aglow with excitement and shock when they realize that yes, this was real. mark lee wants them for the night. leader of pop punk band parasocial wants to meet…y/n.
the taste of your name rolls off his tongue so beautifully, so intoxicatingly, he has to repeat it a few more times once the green room door is locked and the curtains are drawn — not too loudly though.
because while it might not be the venues rules, and it certainly isn’t his own, he promised his band mates this couldn’t happen. he swore up and down they wouldn’t become those kinds of rockstars. everyone knows the type — scandal starters, excessive partiers, seen with a bottle of alcohol or tightly wrapped blunt in hand, escorting fans backstage at every show to....well, to do exactly what he was doing right now.
but mark isn't stupid, so he hides it from his bandmates; despite them breaking the rules so brazenly. jaemin stacks up scandals like spare drum sticks, jeno gets off on the attention & fame, renjun self medicates with alcohol, and haechan couldn't be labeled as anything other than a junkie. but he can't be like that, because mark is the leader. the one that has to walk a straight line — at least in public.
so when he's finally locked away in private with his lucky hit, he let's go. there's no need to be an upstanding, careful leader — he can shake off the tension, relax his shoulders, and focus on what's right in front of him.
which, at the moment, just so happened to be you.
"you're gorgeous, you know that?" a tender hand tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, "couldn't keep my eyes off you tonight."
you can't believe mark lee is right in front of you, touching you, praising you. it's every fantasy you've had of him rolled into one. so when his hands wash over your top, fitting themselves so perfectly on your waist, you giggle and take a little step forward. his body is warm, and he smells smoky with a tinge of bourbon, but what's catching you off guard is how much prettier he is up close. eyeliner is smudged underneath his lashes, and there's blue hair dye running down the side of his neck, on par with rivulets of sweat. the metal bar through his eyebrow is real, and when he flicks his tongue out to lick at his lips, you find a matching tongue piercing.
he loves this.
the wide eyes, taking him all in. the giddiness. the oh my god mark lee is touching me; and while he might not get off on it as much as jeno, he can't help the feeling rushing straight to his cock.
after a few beats of becoming completely starstruck by him, you respond, clasping tightly onto the front of his shirt, "i mean i'm not all that special, but you...." a blush warms your cheeks, "you're out of this world."
it's a reference to one of the songs he sang tonight, so he let's out a forced chuckle and mumbles the rest of the line, "if galileo could see you, he would fall to his knees." he catches himself by surprise when he slowly sinks down onto the floor, the cold tile seeping through the rips in his jeans. his fist curls around the waistband of your skirt, eyes raking your figure. hunger clouds his eyes, but you don't care.
you want this.
he almost thinks you're backing out when you clamp a hand around his arm, but then you say something that makes his head spin on it's shoulders, "you don't have to be gentle...."
it's the desire in your eye, the same glint that matches his own, that permisses him to yank the flimsy skirt down around your ankles, nearly throwing you off balance in the process. "pretty girl wants it rough, huh?" mark pulls himself back up to his feet, one hand winding through your hair, the other knocking your thighs apart, "don't worry, i'll make you scream." his fingers open you up, just the tips of them pushing into you. already you're stretched on your tip toes, trying to run from the warming sensation below your navel. but mark catches this and gives a harsh tug on the roots of your hair, "feet down."
you're basically sinking down on his fingers when you settle on the balls of your feet, the stretch welcoming yet too intense for your body, "f-fuck." you curse.
"baby," he coos, "if you're drooling over two fingers, i don't think you'll be able to take my cock."
"i can, i promise." you mumble, face burning with embarrassment. not because you were under the rough hand of your favorite singer, not because he was teasing you about how tight you were, but because he was peering so fucking deep into your eyes, like he was searching for your soul.
"oh she promises," he mocks, pushing his fingers deeper. he can feel your walls fluttering around his digits; pulsing when they curl and brush the sweet spot he knows all too well.
you're out of breath, eyelids drooping with the weight of having to keep them open, "s-stop toying with me." you plead, nails raking the arm that's holding your body against the cinder block walls.
theres no snarky comment that follows. instead, he leans forward and captures your trembling lips with his own, and you see stars. it's exactly like you imagined it be — feverish, rough and demanding, exhausting every bit of willpower from you. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and his piercing clacks against your teeth, forcing a shiver down your spine. he smirks, that much you register, before bullying his tongue into your mouth, the hand between your legs matching.
too many sensations cloud your head — his hot tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to open up and taste each other, the metal ball on his tongue sticking against your teeth, and his fingers culling you into a head high. your eyes drift shut and you push your hips into his hands, all but grinding down.
mark lee might not have been a guitarist, but he sure did know how to use those hands of his. he sets back and licks his lips, letting out a shaky breath. the wet heat of you was drawing him in; he eases two fingers back inside until his knuckles pressed against your folds, and you sighed his name again. he was hard and aching now; listening to the soft pants that fell heavy as he thrust his fingers in and out. the hand that was threaded through your hair finds home on the sides of your throat, squeezing just enough to get your eyes fluttering open.
"whaddya doing sweetheart? sleeping?" he teases, his voice a drawn out purr in the quiet room, "i can't be that boring now, can i?"
when you try to shake your head no, this was far from boring, you find yourself stuck in his grip.
"maybe you want my cock instead?" marks eyes go soft, melting with the way you try to squeak out a response, "what was that?"
"p-please," you cry out hoarsely, his fingers finding that sweet spot again — but, only for the last time. just as fast as he was in you, he was pulling out.
"look at how wet you were for me," he groans, showing off your arousal that dripped from his fingers. he doesn't hesitate when he sticks them both between his lips, the most vulgar sound emanating from his throat, "you taste good as fuck."
warmth returns to your face at his remark, and it's only then that you realize your state. he was still covered head to toe in his stage outfit; metal chains and dark black alt pieces of clothing hung off his body, but you....you only had your top on. from the waist down, you were completely exposed.
mark seems to realize this too. "take this off for me?" he asks, fingering the strap of your top. "don't worry, i'll do the same." the grin you'd seen splashed across magazines and album covers lights up his face when you do as he asked. and true to his word, his shirt was on the ground in a matter of seconds - right next to yours. dark spills of ink swirl up and around his torso, nearly becoming a second shirt, but you see the muscles. the abs everyone goes crazy for, and with a tentative hand, you reach out to touch them.
"aw, don't be shy baby, i won't bite." he grabs your wrist and makes contact for you. another wave of arousal rushes down your spine when the hard lines of his stomach flex in response to your graze. "you like that, huh?" furiously nodding your head, he chuckles,
"alright, let me give you what you want," he says it like his cock wasn't nearly bursting from his pants, swiftly aching at the mere thought of sinking into you. his gaze darts from yours to the couch to the wall to the table shoved in the corner of the room. where did he want to fuck tonight... "come here," his hand tugs you away from the cinder block walls, over to the soft looking leather couch, "let me see you bend that pretty body over...." he purrs, a wide sweeping gesture to indicate that he knew exactly how he wanted you.
face down, ass up...wasn't that the saying?
and you don't mind, gleefully shimmying across the arm of the couch, cold leather nipping at your skin.
"fuck, man...look at you," you can't see him, but you bet his gaze is hungry again, soft, but visibly desperate, "you really are out of this world."
a chuckle passes your lips at the joke, and for a fleeting second you wonder if you weren't the first girl to hear the phrase. but the thought is swept clean from your mind once you hear his pants slipping on the ground, his metal pocket chains scraping the linoleum.
"stop taking your time and fuck me."
he cocks his head to the side...did he just hear that right? a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, the throbbing, searing pain causing you to lurch forward and cry out. marks hand rubs over the spot immediately, trying to soothe the sting.
"now come on baby, i just need you to be patient with me." you mewl out an incoherent acknowledgment. "here," he grins, "is this what you want?"
a gasp is pulled from your chest at the feeling of him dragging the head of his cock between your folds. "mark please, fuck." slowly, he pushes into you. one hand guides himself, the other is lazily wrapped around your hip. but you can't even think of that right now, because he was filling you to the brim. you've never felt this type of stretch before. it was mind-numbingly delicious,"you're so big."
both of you share a shuddered breath of air when he pulls out and pushes back into you, "damn." he swats at your ass again, this time not bothering to rub his hand over the sting, "you just keep getting tighter...."
his eyes flutter close for a second, lost in the wet heat of you. he's never felt this before — the mutuality of getting off. every other time it's felt forced from the other end; the overdramatic moans were always a turn off but you... you take it like it's real. like it's truly the best cock you'd ever sat on.
mark loves that the most.
"feel good?" the question is drawn out, too focused on keeping his pace even and sharp so that you wouldn't go face first into the couch cushions. you babble out some sort of response that mark can't quiet understand, "words baby..use your words."
"so f-fucking good," you choke on a gasp, "oh god, please don't stop." each word feels like it's ripped from your throat as mark works behind you, thrusting so deep you're left on your tiptoes again.
mark lets out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into your side so he can keep leverage, "be careful what you pray for baby, the devil might hear." it's another musical reference, one that you catch immediately, but you're too cock drunk to form a coherent thought much less a sentence. he feels the way your pussy clenches at his words though, "you liked that, hm?"
you shake your head, arms stretching out in front of you to keep yourself from slipping further down the arm of the couch before a squeal is wrenched from your throat. "you're so deep!"
before he can tease you about going deeper, a loud buzzing sound goes off on the coffee table next to you. it's his phone, lit up with someones caller ID. your eyes are glazed over and blurry, too unfocused to see who the hell was interrupting this. but it didn't matter, because mark ignores it and keeps fucking into you — a little more enthusiastic than before. his fingers still dig into your waist, yet this time, they pull you back to meet his cock. essentially you were bouncing on him without having to do most of the work, "look at that ass bounce."
the buzzing finally stops, replaced with another harsh smack to your ass. you cry out in pain, quickly drowned out by a moan as mark swivels his hips so that he was hitting your sweet spot. white hot pleasure courses through your entire body, and you all but thrash against the leather. "almost there, fuck, keep going. gonna c-cum."
the words are like music to his ears. "just a little longer," mark typically had great stamina, but after the performance tonight, and the way your pussy was sucking him in right now, his willpower was melting away. he was edging himself within your walls at this very second. he needed release. "you're so fucking wet, i can't... oh fuck." his phone starts buzzing again, and this time he glances at the name flashing across the screen and groans, "be quiet okay baby? i need to take this."
furiously, mark jabs the green button on the screen of his phone, "what do you want." through gritted teeth, he keeps his pace, thrusting into your warm cunt. it's difficult, but you manage to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down, stifling any sound that threatened to come out. hot electricity was still running through every nerve in your body, but as mark mindlessly slows to concentrate on not moaning into the phones receiver, it slowly dwindles.
"i'm..." he glances down at the way your waist curved in, the jiggle of your ass when his hips met yours, "i'm outside. why."
you can't hear who's on the other end of the line. maybe it was his manager, or another member of the band. the only thing you knew for certain was they wanted to know where the fuck he was at.
"don't you dare talk sideways to me." the warning in his voice nearly makes you moan out loud. this side of mark lee was something to marvel at. but you don't. you just push your hips backwards onto him.
a breath of air rushes past his lips, "shit." he mumbles.
"i wasn't-" he grits his teeth, "i wasn't cursing at you......because i dropped my cig on the ground, i don't know jaemin."
ah so it was na jaemin - drummer of parasocial. hot head. scandal starter. covered in more ink than you thought possible.
"okay..." mark sighs, his pace slowing, "okay, i'm coming....yeah whatever." he presses the end call button on the screen and tosses the phone on to the couch in front of you.
"baby..." he warns, now lazily fucking you, "i gotta go..."
"why?" you whine, hips pushing back against him in an attempt to get his pace started again. you so desperately wanted him to keep bullying his cock into you.
"they said the vans packed up... if i don't go now, they're gonna leave me behind." he pulls out and helps you flip over to face him, hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, "i'm sorry," he breathes.
"it's okay."
maybe you didn't get to orgasm, but mark lee between your thighs was enough of a treat. as long as he felt good, it didn't matter. so it doesn't irk you when he says, "i'm sorry this couldn't be more..i'm worn out from the show, and...." his voice trails off into a sheepish shrug, his wrist flicking towards his phone.
"i know." it wasn't your job to reassure him, but you knew what this was. what his life entailed, even if it was from an outsiders perspective.
mark sighs, settling back against the couch while he watches you hurriedly throw your clothes on. there's something different about you.
"i can walk you to your car if you want," he offered, his voice tinged with a mix of earnestness and hesitation. he knew he couldn't, not really. the risk of being seen outside the venue with a fan was far too great — jaemin learned that the hard way. but still, there was something about your presence, something that made him want to break the rules just a bit more.
you responded with a wry smile, "nah, i'm good. appreciate it though."
he returned the smile, though a hint of disappointment flickered across his features, swiftly masked by indifference. "alright then, take care."
as you turned to walk away, his gaze lingered, a mixture of longing and apprehension in his eyes. the echo of the performance still reverberated in the air, and the cacophony of the crowd faded into the background. the isolation that often accompanied the applause and adoration settled around him—a sense of detachment despite the proximity to his admirers; to you.
"hey, wait up!" his voice rings out, more desperate than he intends. you stop and turn back to him, a questioning look on your face. "here." he thrusts a piece of paper into your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. in messy scrawl, a ten-digit number is scratched across the paper. he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the stage persona melting away to reveal the vulnerability underneath. "call me when you get where you're headed."
you take the paper, feeling surprise and curiosity bloom in your chest. "sure, i will." a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you tuck the slip of paper into the pocket of your skirt, a secret kept close to your heart. "have a good night, rockstar."
his eyes meet yours, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. in that moment, no other words are needed to understand that this is a fleeting connection, a chapter in a story that will continue for him in different cities, with different faces. another show, another night, another girl.
another fake number.
A. NOTE: this can be read as a standalone, but it is also part of a bigger series i've yet to release. so if you like this one shot, please let me know! you can send in an ask, or comment, reblog, or like <3
TAGLIST: @peachjaem00 @mrkis @downtonbabyah @vangoes @cutiepeas @yujuvly @nuttie-nv-blog @seuomo @mrkleelvr @kazuhateez @chardonnayyyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @jwijii @meowniee @leep0ems @hibye02 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire
#nct dream smut#mark lee smut#nct mark lee x reader#mark lee x reader#nct mark lee smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream band au#nct dream fic#mark lee fic#nctpromptmemedone#nct dream mark
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Her Favorite Flavor
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a/n: i don’t know what possesses me to suddenly find the urge to write before I have classes starting back up but yk 🙏🏾
summary: Comforting your girlfriend Rhea after the unfair loss of her title, you feel the need to divert her mind in some way, even if your distraction involves getting a bit handsy…
Warnings: Soft!dom Rhea, tad bit of angst, hurt comfort, oral! reader receiving, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation.
“And what if I never get my damn title back?” Rhea says softly to you, uncharacteristically vulnerable after her shocking loss. You only sigh, continuing to rub her back soothingly as you stroke her hair. “Like hell that would happen.” you murmur back to her. Your heart lurches painfully when all you receive back is a small watery chuckle that sounds more forced than it should. “Oh Rhea… honey” you trail off, pulling her muscular frame closer to your chest. You offhandedly muse to yourself that you were going to kill Dom, but continue to comfort your girlfriend.
“I just thought—hoped that everything would be back to normal by now.” Rhea drawls her voice now hazily stoic. “I do too hon.” you agree, pressing a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. You smile as a soft blush flushes onto Rhea’s cheeks and she brings one of her hands up to cover her face. “Need a distraction?” you tease from underneath her as you pull her into you. Rhea’s aussie accent takes on a low attractive grumble as she growls out “God yes.”
“Thought so.” you laugh softly as you kiss at any bare skin you can reach. “you’re so pretty Rhea.” You nearly whisper to her adoring the way she grins at your words. “You’re too kind.” is all she shyly replies with. And you blink owlishly down at her when she begins to lower herself to the junction of your thighs. Rhea quirks her brow at you when you silence waiting for her to start the inevitable, “Keep talking sweetheart.” She coos to you and you gasp as she rids you of your shorts and panties in one simple drag.
“Oh— I, well…I you’re s-so strong for starters.” you stutter out. And you can feel how Rhea smiles into your cunt, her ego no doubt already blooming. She lets out a pleased little noise that vibrates to your clit, your already reaching out for her with shaky hands, overwhelmed by how good she could play your body. Your breath hitches before you continue your warbled praises. “You’re so—mmm there— headstrong too.” you sigh, outstretched hands coming to thread themselves in her longer hair.
“Stubborn almost.” you giggle but it quickly turns to a yelp as Rhea flattens her tongue against your hole crudely in protest. You whine her name as she chuckles deeply.
“V-Very determined—“ you cut yourself off with a whimper as Rhea slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them expertly and immediately there’s a telling little tightness deep in your core. “And you’re very warm.” Rhea groans languid, as your cunt tightens around her fingers. She watches as your whole frame shudders needily and she can’t help but admire the view. All thoughts leave Rhea’s brain however, when your plush thighs wrap around her head and squeeze. At this Rhea lets out an unrestrained whine of her own as her free hand comes to promptly grip at your thighs, no longer leaving marks in the shape of her nails.
Your mouth drops open as you make eye contact with her. Rhea looked simply pussy drunk and debauched in how her brows furrowed, eyes rolled slightly as the blush from her cheeks spread to her ears and neck. “Fuckkk!” Is all you can wail as Rhea adds another finger to your now sopping heat. Your breath comes out choppy as you attempt to speak. “Did I also ever tell you how much I love you?” You giggle, and Rhea only hums noncommittal continuing to pleasure you.
“So good t’me Rhe.” you purr out her nickname sultry, and in response, Rhea taps her tongue smugly against your throbbing heat. Keening, your back bows off the bed, canting your hips to meet her ministrations. “I’m gonna cum.” you pant whimpering. Rhea groans at your admission “Fucking finally. I need you.” She grunts and the words go straight to your center. And all of a sudden, she pressing all the right places inside of you, your hips squirming from how intense the pleasure feels.
“Oh Rhea!” you wail out brokenly, clinging onto her built shoulders as she works you through your high, her tongue piercing catching on your clit oh so addictively. You simper as Rhea crawls over you, caging you between her and the bed as she lowered herself on her biceps to give you a biting kiss. You barely hear her hushed tone as your legs wrap around her waist.
“You taste divine.”
#Rhea ripley smut#rhea ripley fanfiction#Rhea ripley wwe#rhea ripley#wwe smut#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley x reader smut#Rhea x fem!reader#rhea x reader#Rhea Ripley x fem!reader smut#rhea ripley fluff#Rhea ripley fic#i need her
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broken ankles and middle names
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pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader summary: after a silly accident involving the hogwarts' infuriating moving stairs, you're found by a certain quiet boy (whom you not-so-secretly adore). warnings: no good exposition whatsoever, language mistakes, chaotic+flirty reader i want to be her!!! notes: this is part of a bigger story that i will probably never finish writing, let alone publish, so if it seems completely out of context, that's why. this is also the first thing on this tumblr blog and the first written thing i'm ever showing to tumblr besides poetry!!🤭 i hope you like it 🤍 let me know
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“what on earth happened to you?”
the situation is silly and absurd, so you laugh, despite the sharp pain that almost makes your eyes water. theo is kneeling beside you with a confused expression on his face, looking from your swollen ankle to your face.
“can you help me to the hospital wing? i can’t walk.”
all you have to do is look at him and he carefully picks you up from the cold floor. you put your arms around his neck for support. “i was walking up the stairs. and then the stairs moved. and then i fell. you know, i’m glad you’re here, there’s not a single soul on the corridors at this time of day, i was just going to get some books, i have free period–”
“you should watch where you’re walking.” his voice sounds like honey and if you weren’t basically laying in his arms right now, your knees would definitely go weak. but you act unbothered. “maybe i should’ve. but then you wouldn’t carry me. maybe this is a win after all.”
“you’re infuriating.” the small smile that cracks on his face doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when you can see his lips from up close.
“infuriating is my middle name.” there’s a lot of things you can see from up close. his eyelashes are long and he has more freckles than you thought. you like how the ends of his hair twist and fall on his forehead.
“annoying.”
“middle name.”
“stop with the middle names.”
after no more than a minute of silence you speak up again. “you’re so quiet.”
“you think so?” a normal person who doesn’t talk to theodore on the daily basis, probably wouldn’t be able to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. but you are not a normal person. you pay way too much attention.
you come up with a response and giggle before you even get the chance to say it. “you could say that quiet is your middle nam–”
“if i dropped you right now, i bet you'd be whining like crazy.”
“there’s no need to test that.” you hold on to his neck a little tighter. “besides, you’re lucky i’m not whining right now. i’m in enormous amounts of pain.”
“i can tell. your ankle is twice its normal size.”
“you seem to know my ankles pretty well.” theo chuckles more audibly at your words and your heart flutters.
“that's my secret. i've been staring at them since fifth year.”
you gasp, pretending to be shocked. “i never knew my ankles were so desirable! now you got me worried, that fall might’ve been a threat to my beauty…”
“oh, very much so. you're lucky you had me there to carry you and take care of you in such a tragic moment.”
you never thought hogwarts' insanely big castle was exactly convenient. you’re constantly late for classes, walking takes up half of your daily life and you never know what is creeping around the corner. but now, when you’re being carried through it by the boy you like so much, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?
“how far away is that wing?” you ask in a whiny tone just to get this attention, but in your mind and in your heart you thank merlin for the long corridors.
“don't you dare even start to complain now, after i carried you all this way.”
“i’m not complaining about you, i’m complaining about the castle. although i’m sure i could find some complaints about you…”
“oh?” he looks at you, slightly amused. “go ahead, do your worst.”
“well, for starters, you make weird comments about my ankles.”
“your ankles are my favorite thing about you.”
“that’s an insult.”
“you’re an insult.”
“MIDDLE NAME.”
he sighs and he calls you insufferable and you smile. you can expect the hospital wing right around the corner, but you wouldn’t mind staying in the pretty boy’s arms for a little longer.
#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x fem!reader#theo nott fluff
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New Years Kiss
Pairing: Etho/Tango
Length: 1k words
A/N: It's technically New Years here already and I wanted to post this before people are heading out. So here's another little Slabtek fic, this time for new years eve!
Technically it's set after my other fic "Just a little distraction" but it's not relevant. I just wanted to write something indulgent for the holidays.
Happy New Years everyone, hope I can get even more writing done next year!
Etho and Tango sit in the reiling of the steampunk blimp that looms above Tango's still unfinished factory, looking towards where Cub is hosting a large fireworks show with the help of some of the others. There's food and people are talking and laughing.
Almost everyone is there, but not these two.
Of course they love their friends and enjoy spending time with them but it's already so noisy and crowded at times and right now they prefer the quiet of it all. Plus Tango insists the view from up here is so much better than being up close.
They sit, legs dangling, and just watch over the server for a while. It's a comfortable silence around them, without the need to fill it.
Tango got out his notepad occasionally to write down some idea or another that went through his head, telling Etho about it as he writes.
Neither of them has a clock on them and they don't know how late it is.
Eventually, Etho breaks the silence."So when do we get sappy and talk about the past year?"
The smile is audible in his voice and Tango doesn't even need to look up to see the way his eyes crinkle slightly alongside it.
"We don't have to if you don't wanna" he just offers in return. Neither of them is the type for this kind of stuff anyway.
Etho shrug and they sit in silence once more but now that Etho mentioned it once, Tango is of course thinking about it anyway.
"It sure was a year. Thought I would've gotten more done" Tango sighs. He's now looking down at his unfinished factory. "Thought I'd at least have that thing done a bit more done by now. Instead I spent half the year in a hole and the other half fixing this mess." he laughs sorely.
Etho gently kicks against his boot.
"You got everyone addicted to your game. Again." he throws in and Tango knows that it's not just to cheer him up.
"Only took me what? 5 months? And even then it was kind of a mess. All the bugs and so much that went wrong..."
A beat later, "Sorry. Didn't want to spend the last few minutes of the year being miserable" Tango says but he can't help the slight smile in his voice because Etho knows how he is. And Tango knows that Etho doesn't mind; that sometimes Tango needs to talk himself down, let out an annoyed sigh at himself and get to it. But there's not really a getting to it now on New Year's now, is there?
But the sigh already helps enough.
"What about you? Happy with this one?" Tango asks, changing the subject away from himself. Funny thing how neither of them can stand bring the focus for too long.
"Sure, could say that." Etho says but doesn't really elaborate.
Many good things have happened for the both of them. They made games for their friends and had the joy of watching them play and laugh. Struggle and get better.
Etho got over himself and built a roof for his house, something he's at least decently happy with.
Tangos factory is, despite the flaws he's deeply unhappy with, quite the impressive piece of redstone work.
The time they spent with everyone, laughing and learning from each other, watching their friends grow and live alongside them.
Neither of them says it out loud but that's what's been filling this year for them.
Another thing they don't say out loud, not earlier, not right now, is them. For a few months now they have been closer than ever before and since that one afternoon in the redstone of Hungry Hermits...
Things have changed between them, kisses have been stolen away, nights spent at the others, mostly Etho's, base; Tango's starter house being mostly unused at this point.
Still they haven't talked about it. Why would they? It's not like that would change anything.
Or it would. It would put expectations up, and Tango doesn't know if he's ready for that.
What would Etho even expect from him? Dates? Kissing? To tell other people?
Tango is lost in his own thoughts, he barely hears Etho's question.
"How long do you think we still have till midnight?"
"Huh?" Tango looks up at him, taking a moment to register the question and as his brain catches up and he wants to reply, the fireworks are beginning to light up the night sky.
And Tango can't take his eyes off Etho, his face illuminated by the flickering lights all over the night sky.
What would be expected of them? Shouldn't they kiss now?
Does it matter what's expected of them?
"Happy new year, Etho" Tango says with a bright smile as he realizes it doesn't matter.
He can see Etho return the expression, see it in his eyes, his eyebrows, the way his cheeks move under the mask.
Carefully, Tango reaches out and pulls on the fabric and Etho doesn't stop him. He never has.
Slowly their lips meet, as if they're making this something special.
Tango smiles into the kiss. He wouldn't have expected to be the type of person who enjoys something as dumb as a kiss on new years but here he is. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course it feels silly and cheesy and neither of them really need it. But maybe that is part of the charm.
Once Tango pulls back he cant stop grinning at Etho. And that grin doesn't vanish when the taller one starts leaning his head on Tango's shoulder, slouching slightly to get comfortable.
Tango's tail wraps around his waist affectionately and he hears Etho say quietly, "Happy New Year, Tango."
#Tangotek#Tango tek#Etho#ethoslab#slabtek#tangtho#hermitshipping#hermitfic#hermitcraft#sillywritings#At this point this is the writing equivalent of playing with jpgs like dolls and I don't care about ooc anymore#I just enjoy writing them :3
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I’m literally inlove with your writing! Anyways I was wondering if you could maybe do a Kuai Liang x reader one shot where he’s had like a stressful day and basically goes crazy with back shots. English is not my first language so I’m sorry if this does not make sense.
Thank you sm !!!! Kuai is a little ooc because he is a bit grumpy in this but he is a little sweet in the end (kinda) 🫣 This fic is shorter because I got brain rot for Kuai atm and I can only write on my phone. Also, your English was great !!! Thank you heaps for your request and I hope you enjoy it <33
Not sorry
Wc: 2.7k
Pairing: Kuai Liang x Afab!Reader
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, no use of pronouns, p in v sex, creampie, biting, minor burns, no use of y/n, Kuai is a little mean… sorry !!!
When Kuai Liang walks through your front door you can immediately tell he’s had a bad day, mostly because the door slams behind him and he doesn’t even flinch; he just walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and drops down beside you.
“By the way you’ve just slammed my door I’m guessing you had a great day,” you speak sarcastically; not looking up from your book.
He sighs beside you, “Sorry… today was… trying.”
He sounds drained from beside you but he also seems angry, like something happened to royally piss him off; well, something or someone.
You go to ask him, “Do you want to talk about–”
“–No.” He cuts you off.
You drop your book and look him in the eyes, “Yes, clearly whatever happened is not an issue that should be discussed.”
He doesn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes on the wall in front of you both. The frown resting on his brow is prominent and you feel the need to reach over to smooth it out but as your hand reaches for him he grabs your wrist and holds it up.
His eyes lock onto yours, “What are you doing?”
You feel a bit flustered and you don’t know how to tell him you were going to touch his face, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You mumble a bit before pulling your wrist from his hold.
His eyes are examining you, trying to understand your intent but you’ve looked away and started to read your book. Or you’re pretending to read your book, you’re a little preoccupied by his heated gaze on you.
You sigh, “Why’d you come over if you’re in such a bad mood?”
“Because I always visit you around this time,” he’s snippy, whatever happened has obviously pissed him off severely.
He does always visit around this time, though you wouldn’t think he would come around when he’s in this bad of a mood. How kind of him to subject you to his incredibly annoyed demeanour. It’s a bit irritating but you also think it’s a little bit sweet, his want to see you outweighing his poor mood.
“I don’t know how to help you when you’re like this,” your eyes are still on the book, not reading any of the words on the page.
He’s stoic beside you, still watching you, “For starters, you can stop pretending to read.”
“I’m not pretending,” you lie.
“You’ve been on the same page since I walked in,” he observes.
You scowl at your book, “No I haven’t,” you double down.
From beside you, he grabs your book and pulls it away, chucking it across the room.
“Hey!” You exclaim at him, you move to pick up your book but he pulls you back onto the couch. Making you look at him.
“I also came here for a specific purpose,” his eyes are hard, looking at you firmly.
You’re unamused, “And what’s that?”
The way he’s looking at you is setting you on fire, he’s making you flustered and it’s completely unfair. You have been carrying a torch for this man for many years now and he’s never once shown signs of reciprocation but with the way he’s eyeing you right now, you feel completely exposed to him. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and you might let him.
“Something happened today and I want to– need to know, how do you feel about me?” His question stuns you.
You’re unable to speak for a few moments, lost at where his sudden question has come from. “W–What prompted that question?”
He doesn’t answer you, just looking you head on, waiting for your answer. An answer you don’t really want to give.
You deflect instead, your confession coming in a non-committal way. “Well, I love you of course, I always have.” You make it sound as casual as possible, hoping he doesn’t see through you.
“I see,” he replies, his tone even.
You’re both sat looking at each other, not sure where to go from here. Unconsciously, your eyes flick to his lips, lingering for a moment too long, giving away your desire for him. You look away quickly, wishing you still had your book in front of you.
“I think you are lying,” his hand reaches towards your face and pulls it back to him, “I think you have feeling for me.” The emphasis on the last word confuses you for a moment but before you can ask him about it, his lips are on yours.
He leans in closer and pulls you towards him by the hand on your face. His kiss is harsh and needy, his bad mood still lingering under his lust for you. He pushes you back onto the couch, following you down; his lips never leave yours. When your back hits the couch, you gasp against him and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. The shock of it has a whiney moan pulling from you, the sound you make has an appreciative grunt coming from Kuai.
Your hands grab at him, holding onto his shoulders, needing the leverage. He is so large above you, his body heat consuming you, his mouth overwhelming you, he’s driving you insane. He’s taken over all your senses, when he pulls back, you’re huffing underneath him. His kiss has taken your breath away, you’re dazed by the way he’s just kissed you. You can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him. His own are filled with a desperate heat, dark and lustful.
“I need you… on your stomach,” his voice is deep when he speaks.
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, heating your face up. Taking a moment to look up at him, completely dumbfounded. He leans down again and kisses the look off your face, his hand moves to your neck and hold you as he does.
When he pulls back again, he tells you, “Roll over.”
You immediately roll over for him, lying on your stomach beneath him. His hands pull your hips up onto your knees, the dress you’re wearing falls upwards and pools around further up your body. Your arms move to hold yourself up slightly, your back arched low. The position has you feeling completely exposed to him. His fingers graze over your core through your panties, the slight touch makes you twitch.
He hums at you, “Already so wet, I’ve only kissed you.”
“Kuai–”
His touch moves back to your core, firmer this time. The feeling cuts off your words, he pushes the tip of his finger into your pussy hole, held back by your underwear. The action results in your panties getting wetter. He’s toying with you, playing with you over your panties. His touch grazing over your core, making you twitch and squirm for him. He’s making you moan for him, purposefully touching you so you’ll whimper out his name.
His touch withdraws before he leans down, his face pressed to your core, his mouth over your panties. His tongue licking at you over them, the stimulation has you jumping forward and moans tumbling from your lips. His mouth soaks your panties completely, ruining them. Ashamedly, he gets you impeccably close to your end like this, so close to cumming in your underwear for him. Your moans reaching a higher pitch, coming more frequently.
Suddenly, he pulls back, removing all stimulation, your cunt pulsing from your almost orgasm.
“Mmm I bet you were close,” he comments, his observation makes you huff at him, your hips moving back at him, trying to entice him.
He hums and then his mouth moves to your arse cheek and bites down, you gasp and jump at the feeling. He’s no doubt left an impression of his teeth in your skin. Once he’s pulled back, he borderline moans at the state of you.
His tone is dark and pleased, “You look great with my teeth marking you.”
“Kuai, please, do something.”
He seemingly considers your words for a moment before answering, “Remember, you asked for it.”
The shuffling of his pants can be heard behind you and then he’s pulling your panties to the side. The head of his cock sliding through your slick for a moment before notching on your pussy hole, he slips the head in, giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch. The sensation is burning, he’s large in every way apparently and you really wish you could see him right now. What kind of face is he making, what does his cock look like entering you.
Your thoughts almost have your mouth drooling, instead, it’s your cunt drooling on him. Your wetness leaking from you onto the head of his cock. The sight of your obscene arousal has Kuai twitching inside you and a moan pulling from his chest. He can’t help the way he stuffs more of himself into your small pussy. His length opening you up, your cunt taking him as he inches into you. You’re pulsing around him in need, completely desperate for him at this point.
“Gods, I wanted this to be different but you drive me crazy,” his words are hissed out between his teeth.
You don’t have the time or brain cells to pull apart what he means, your hips push back on him, taking more of him. He moans and meets your thrust, pushing his cock all the way into you. Stuffing you full, your arse rests on his pelvis. He grinds into you, his hands gripping at your hips, holding you flush to him.
He groans reverently at the way your cunt grips him tightly. At the way you’re throbbing around him, you’re driving him just as crazy as he is you.
Whimpers spill from you as you try to speak, “P –hah– lease, move~” you squirm against him, grinding back on him, needing the friction, desperately.
His fingers dig into your plush skin, holding you tightly, “Give me a second, pretty. Gripping me so –mmmph– tight, I nee –ah– d a second.”
His words broken by whiney sounds set you on fire, you need him to move. Now. You draw forward, aiming to fuck yourself back on him but he grabs you and pulls you back forcefully, the sensation exactly what you wanted. A moan tumbling from you at the action, you want more. Greedy for him and his fat cock.
He grunts, “You’re needy –hah– fuck.” He pulls out slowly; leaving only the tip inside you, “–mmph– I’ll give you what you need,” he promises, before forcing himself back inside you.
You moan loudly, your fingers grip into the couch, your forehead pressed into the cushion below you. Kuai’s thrusts are harsh and fast, fucking you silly, using your body as a fuck toy. His hands holding you and fucking you back onto him, his cock hammering into your cervix. Your cunt pulses around him, your slick coating his dick completely. Lewd noises fill the room, wet slapping sounds echoing in the lounge.
He grunts and moans from behind you, the way he’s shoving his dick into you has you willing to worship the ground he walks on. He’s in the same boat regarding your cunt, obsessed with the way you cream around him, the way you grip him, the way you’re so wet he’s slipping in and out of you with ease.
You cry out his name, almost literally, eyes wet and glassy, “Kuai~”
“Hmm?” He asks mindlessly, too obsessed with watching the way you suck his cock in to pay attention to anything else.
“I wanna –hah– see you,” you whimper out to him, wanting to see him, to touch him.
He chuckles at your desperation, “Next time.” His promise of a next time makes your pussy jump, “You like that? The idea of me fucking you again? Having you regularly take my cock?”
You moan out shamelessly, not even trying to hide the way you’d love to be fucked by him daily, loving the idea of being stuffed full of him. Sitting on top of him with his cock in you, not moving just full of him. Your own imagery has you clenching down on him again, your whimpers spilling from you, a tear slipping from your eye at his relentless thrusts.
His hands on your hips are hot, his body heat in general making you sweat. His pelvis slaps into your arse consistently, you’re spasming around him. So close to finishing.
“Kuai~ I –mmph– I’m close–” Tears fall down your cheeks.
“Cum then,” he grunts out, encouraging you to finish on his dick.
His thrusts and the moans he’s letting slip have you cumming for him, hard. Your cunt grips down on him tight, vice like. Your own orgasm has him grunting loudly, his dick twitching inside you. Ropes of his cum filling you, he continues fucking it into you. Prolonging your orgasms and enjoying the way his cum leaks out around you both when he pulls out and stuffs himself back in.
The heat on your hips burns and you wince in pain, a small whimper exiting you at the feeling. He removes his hands suddenly, “Fuck, sorry. I’ve burnt you.”
“It’s okay…” you huff out, dazed from your orgasm but also okay with the burns.
He pulls out of you slowly, both of you groaning as he does. He pulls his pants up, taking his time to enjoy the view of his cum leaking from your pussy hole.
His hands gently trace over the burn marks of his hands, humming appreciatively. Enjoying the way his hands are burned into your soft flesh, “It’s a good look,” he comments.
You laugh airily at him, “Help me up?”
“Of course,” he pulls your panties back into place and then moves you into a sitting position on the couch.
“Thank you,” you smile at him.
He looks at you thoughtfully, his hands pulling your dress off completely out of nowhere. Your hands go to cover your chest at the sudden exposure, “What are you–”
“Wanna see the burns,” he frowns, looking you over, his hands so gentle with you. “I’ll be back, gonna get you some ice.”
He wanders off and grabs some ice blocks, wrapping them in tea towels and coming back to you. He holds them against your hips, soothing the burns. You aren’t bothered though, you like knowing that his hand prints will be seared into your skin for a while.
“I’m sorry, for burning you.”
“It’s okay… I liked it…” you shy away from his gaze, looking off into the distance.
He takes in a deep breath from beside you, “I didn’t say earlier but… I love you too.”
You look back at him, a shocked expression on your face, “You do?”
“Of course,” he smiles softly at you, “I was rough and didn’t express myself in a healthy way.”
You implore him, “What happened today?”
He frowns, “You know that guy, the one you hang out with.”
“My friend? Yes…”
“He… was boasting about you liking him, about how obvious it was. When I told him you did not, he called me jealous… He is not a good person, but I realised I was jealous. Because I want you. And I want you to only want me…” His words are filled with annoyance, getting angry again at the memory of your so called ‘friend’ being a pompous ass.
Your hands move to hold his face, making him look at you, “I do want only you, always have.”
He melts for you, “Good.” His smile is soft but then his eyes wander down, staring at your uncovered chest. It makes you roll your eyes at him.
“Eyes up here,” you joke.
He doesn’t look back up, gaze staying on your tits, “I know.”
You move a hand to his chin and use it to tilt his eye line back up to yours, “Don’t be a perv.”
He raises his eyebrows suggestively at you before he holds the side of your face tenderly, serious as he says, “I know I’ve already said it but I am sorry about taking my anger out on you.”
“And like I said… I liked it.”
“You’re making it hard to be sorry,” he sighs, amused by you.
You smile coquettishly at him, “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
He leans in and kisses you, it’s tender and warm. He makes your brain fuzzy and you’re happy, always happy when he’s next to you.
You can feel his light smile against your lips when he pulls back, “Then, I’m not sorry.”
₊ ⊹
A/N: Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it :)) and I should have access to my laptop tomorrow so hopefully ‘Bare’ pt 2 will be up sooner rather than later <33
As per usual, if you have any thoughts, feelings or requests feel free to slide into my inbox <333
#ask vision#kuai liang x reader#kuai liang x reader smut#kuai liang x you#kuai liang x you smut#kuai liang smut#scorpion smut#scorpion x reader#scorpion x reader smut#mk1 smut
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The Set Up
Fic prompt from @always-and-forever-alone : I was wondering if you could write a store of reader, being called a monster for most of her life, and he either telling her she's not or saying something well it's happening(in he's way, because let be honest he probably wouldn't say it directly, God forbid he cares)
A/N: not proofread or beta-ed. I really wanted to get this one out today so I am going down with my typos. I had another idea in the works for this but this idea snuck up on me as I wrote. I honestly might keep working on v1 to post eventually but here's this one for now! :) ______________________________________________________
“What the fuck, Jaskier?” you screamed, your voice overlapping with the immense witcher standing across from you, who said the same thing.
When your longtime friend had asked you to come into town to meet a friend of his, you’d been hesitant. Life wasn’t kind to non-humans, and it certainly hasn’t been very nice to you. But you’d known Jaskier for years, and he’d never given you any reason to think he’d hurt you. Until now of course.
“Woah! Hey,” Jaskier, to his credit, sounded about as panicked as you felt, “please both of you just sit down and let me – Geralt put the sword down for fuck’s sake.”
You tore your eyes off the white-haired brute, his merciless grip easing off the hilt of his still-sheathed weapon, and chanced a glance at your supposed friend. There was a little bit of sweat on his upper lip, his eyes were wide, and he had his arms outstretched between the two of you, palms down – pacifying? He looked nervous but not guilty.
Why the fuck doesn’t he look guilty? You thought, confusion and hurt mingling bitterly in your stomach.
Wait. The witcher – Geralt? – yelled at Jaskier too. Why the hell was he pissed? Maybe Jaskier expected he kill you for free, or maybe he was on some kind of vacation and resented the job.
You set your eyes back on him, still refusing take a seat at their table, and your breath caught in your throat as his harsh, cat-like eyes, met and held your gaze.
“Y/N,” Jaskier said, waving you forward with the hand closest to you, “please sit. Let me explain.”
“Explain what?” you hissed, “How you hired a witcher to kill me?”
“Kill you?!” Jaskier and, confoundingly, Geralt, said in unison.
“Come on,” Jaskier continued, softening his tone and looking from you to his guest, “you know I would never do that. I have no reason to do that. Please, just sit.”
Fighting every instinct, you pulled up a stool from an adjacent table and joined the pair. Your heart was beating into your ears but you figured the witcher wouldn’t make his move in the middle of a busy tavern so you should be safe – for now.
***
Geralt watched the woman sitting across from him with growing curiosity.
When the bard had told him he was looking forward to introducing him to a friend of his in town, he’d rolled his eyes. Jaskier was always trying to introduce him to women he knew, women he hoped would sway and soften him up a little. It was exhausting, infuriating, and frankly, a little embarrassing. Geralt didn’t need any help in that department and he definitely didn’t share Jaskier’s taste in partners.
But this woman was nothing like the others. For starters, she wasn’t human. Geralt could sense her power even before she entered the tavern, his medallion vibrating in warning against his chest. When she entered, he took immediate notice of the way every candle got brighter, each flame now leaning toward her slightly, drawn in by her power.
She must have been a fire elemental of some kind, he’d thought. Or maybe a sorceress who’d given into the Power brought by fire. Either way, Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His fascination had only grown when she spotted Jaskier from across the room and her guarded face erupted into a wide and open smile. A smile that turned defensive as soon as she locked eyes with him over the table.
She bared her teeth and sent a surge of power through the room, flames flickering around them. How did Jaskier even meet this woman?
“What the fuck, Jaskier?” he said, pushing up from his seat and reaching for his sword, a confusing mix of defensiveness and jealousy settling in his gut. How and where did his soft, flowery friend meet someone like this?
***
“Okay, first of all, thank you both for agreeing to this.”
“I would never have agreed had I known –”
“Jaskier you son of a –”
“Okay, sorry! Sorry! That was a mistake, I admit that, I’m sorry,” Jaskier said, rambling, “but look, Y/N, you’re always saying how you wished you could find someone who saw you for who you are and not what you are.” He turned to you as he spoke, cupping his hand gently over your elbow, urging you to uncross your arms.
“And Geralt, please don’t kill me for this,” he blurted, placing his other hand next to the witcher’s on the table, “you’re too lonely for your own good, and I thought maybe if you met Y/N, someone who could match you, you could, I don’t know…”
“Wait,” you interrupted him, laughing despite yourself, “you’re saying this is a romantic set-up and not a,” you brought your hand across your throat in a mock-slice, “murder-for-hire set-up?”
“Now, wait, hang on. Why would I kill you?” Geralt said, speaking over your realization defensively, as if he didn’t reach for his sword when you made eye contact. “I’m a witcher, not a damned assassin.”
“Because I’m,” you hesitated and glanced around you to make sure no one was looking before briefly demonstrating by drawing a flame up in your hand and extinguishing it just as quickly. Jaskier was looking at you so softly, his eyes betraying the way he pitied you, but Geralt? He was looking at you like you’d just juggled the bread rolls on the table rather than summoning fire.
“Why would that be reason enough to kill you? You’re not a monster.”
“Tell that to every village I’ve ever dared to call home.” You scoffed.
“Geralt can relate!” Jaskier said, jumping in far too loudly and with too much exuberance. “People have been wrongly treating him like a monster for years!”
“Jask!” Geralt hissed, looking pissed and, wait, was he embarrassed?
“Sorry!” he squeaked, throwing up his hands as he got up from the table. “I am going to get us another round, the two of you… get to know each other.”
You watched your idiot friend rush over to the bar for a beat before rolling your eyes. “I can’t believe he did this.”
“We could take him if we team up,” Geralt said, a mischievous glint shone in his eyes when you looked back at him.
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you then, nor could you stop the blush that crept up your neck when you saw the witcher’s face break into a wider smile.
“Yeah,” you breathed, uncrossing your arms so you could lean over the table toward Geralt conspiratorially, glowing under his open and earnest gaze, “I think we’d make a good team.”
#geralt of rivia#the witcher netflix#geralt x reader#fanfiction#the witcher#witcher geralt#the witcher fic#witcher x reader#jaskier the witcher
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INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)
episodes: s01e05 - s01e07
❛ I'm trying to think of something more fucked up than this. ❜
❛ Stay out of my head. ❜
❛ I care for him more than he cares for himself. ❜
❛ A whole lot of concern's been wasted on you these past months. ❜
❛ Where are the bodies? ❜
❛ Well, then, I guess you better hope and pray you taught me how to clean up good. ❜
❛ You gonna let him do this to me? ❜
❛I'm never gonna forget what happened here. I hate you both. ❜
❛ Sounds like there's a maniac on the loose. ❜
❛ So much wine in his blood. And beer and whisky. ❜
❛ Happy? We were not happy. ❜
❛ Who am I supposed to love? ❜
❛ Why can't I make one? No matter how much blood I give them, they just lie there gaspin'. ❜
❛ What is this? Look at me. What have you done? ❜
❛ If you could find them, which you won't, they would shred you to strips, because you are built like a bird - because you are a mistake. ❜
❛ He treats us like shit and you take it! Why is that? ❜
❛ Been following you. You ain't been your careful self. ❜
❛ Don't... Don't run off. ❜
❛ Poor dear. She wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders. ❜
❛ Once you put it out there, they decide what it is. It can get away from you. ❜
❛ Assume we are under suspicion. ❜
❛ We should leave the city, start anew. ❜
❛ Should I do like you instead? Read the first pages of every book, pass myself off as cultured? ❜
❛ You draw me into your gloom. ❜
❛ So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good. ❜
❛ If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true. ❜
❛ The vampires out there are vicious. Oh...but you've learned that already. ❜
❛ Come with me! I thought I could live without you, but I was wrong. ❜
❛ His love is a small box he keeps you in. Don't stay in it. ❜
❛ I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed you. ❜
❛ Let him go. It's me you want. ❜
❛ Listen to me, and listen very carefully, my infant death. It was never you. ❜
❛ I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me... as I love you. ❜
❛ Just say it. Say, "I am never going to love you". It would help me a great deal to hear that from your lips...your quivering...hateful lips. ❜
❛ Excruciating pain was the proof I was still alive. ❜
❛ You know he's a vampire, right? ❜
❛ NDAs signed by any and all who cross the threshold, eh? ❜
❛ Are you still dreaming about our first meeting? ❜
❛ Are we the sum of our worst moments? Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves? ❜
❛ You gonna be my knight in vengeful black? ❜
❛ Save your charity for the needful. ❜
❛ I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I'm nothing without you. ❜
❛ If you want me to go away, just say so. I'll obey you. I'll leave your life forever. ❜
❛ This silence is cruel. And you were never cruel. ❜
❛ Write me a song and put your lover's voice on it? What the fuck is wrong with your head? ❜
❛ Put some clothes on and get the fuck out. ❜
❛ The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent. Lover, murderer, maker. ❜
❛ It's a bond that can never fully be severed. A bond like that makes you believe there are only two of you on the planet. ❜
❛ I cried. I called to God. I didn't want this. But I have a capacity for enduring. ❜
❛ We leave the damage so we never forget the damage. ❜
❛ She's grown very protective of me. ❜
❛ I ask these questions because I'm trying to understand you better. ❜
❛ I'm sorry for your losses. ❜
❛ I admire your steadfast pursuit of a game you clearly have no acumen for. ❜
❛ You're ugly when you act like that. ❜
❛ They don't appreciate you like I do. ❜
❛ You're like me. You like to laugh. ❜
❛ Well, now that I'm dead, I can be whoever I want. ❜
❛ I seek refuge from complaints when I visit you, dear. ❜
❛ He's the father of lies. ❜
❛ This life, it does a number on the head, on the soul... if we even have a soul. ❜
❛ When he hurts you again, and he will, come find me. ❜
❛ You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away. ❜
❛ You left without saying goodbye. Again. ❜
❛ Back in your cage, sweetheart. ❜
❛ We endure each other for [name]’s happiness. ❜
❛ I love you. I don't say it often enough anymore. ❜
❛ You threaten a life which will endure till the end of the world. ❜
❛ Are you a narc? ❜
❛ I want to interview you. ❜
❛ So...question. Can an immortal meet mortality? ❜
❛ We would spend our hours enduring, with little pretense of getting along, locked together in hatred. ❜
❛ Knowledge is the ocean's edge. ❜
❛ They say that Satan lives in this house. ❜
❛ Well, send Saint Peter our regards. ❜
❛ We have to leave this place. ❜
❛ Maybe start by telling me the plan? ❜
❛ You spend an hour alone with him and you're breathing in sync together. ❜
❛ I'll lose myself in him. ❜
❛ You irritate me. Your very presence irritates me. ❜
❛ I came to make peace with you. ❜
❛ No one's comin' to a party thrown by freaks. ❜
❛ You're gonna try to kill him at this party? ❜
❛ I mean, this is all good and... sufficiently creepy. What do you want? ❜
❛ Would you like to know the secret of immortality? ❜
❛ I wanted him dead. I wanted him all to myself. ❜
❛ I'm going to miss this place. ❜
❛ I was his, and he was mine. ❜
❛ Always the petty slights with you. ❜
❛ We are joined by a cord, by a cord that you cannot see, but it is real. It is real. ❜
❛ I have loved you...with all myself. ❜
❛ I'm happy it was you...here with me…at the end. ❜
❛ This horror that had been [name]...I stared helplessly at it. The thing lay still. ❜
❛ Murder? What murder? It was an act of mercy. ❜
❛ You didn't kill him. You spared him, out of some fucked-up idea you had about love. ❜
❛ We have to burn him. It's the only way we'll know! ❜
❛ You don't need a memoir. You need a hundred sessions of EMDR. ❜
❛ You've only heard half the story. ❜
❛ This time, I won't save your life. ❜
#rp memes#rp prompt#sentence starters#sentence meme#roleplay meme#roleplay prompts#rp meme#rp prompts#inbox meme#*tv#*iwtv
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I saw your new post and I was like 'hmm, interesting' can you write about the bad sans a few more of your choice reacting to their Fem S/O who was Overly blessed?, Like She was literally God's favorite in most things
And every time someone is going to hurt her lightning strikes them or something else happens and she just shrugged like she's used to that, bonus if she's absolutely beautiful and she's being flirt with regularly resulting in half of these people being fried or Almost killed by the God's
I love this request lmao.
Thank you anon! Hope you enjoy! :D
Masterlist
BAD SANSES X OVERLY BLESSED S/O
(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Error)
NIGHTMARE:
Oh, he will absolutely HATE YOU. (Not for long though. 😉)
You tried flirting with him the first time y'all met, and that was basically the kick-starter for him to hate you. He tried to kill you after your flirting attempt, but got immediately striked with lightning.💀
He literally can't stand you. From your breathtaking beauty, your smoothness all the way to your flirtiness!! (<- his words, not mine 🤷♀️)
The gods hate him too. So SO much. It's actually wild.
He literally can't believe the amount of bullshit you've gotten away from. Like, what do you mean you've 'accidentaly' killed someone?! And- excuse me- but did you just say that you ROBBED A STORE ONCE?! Bro is flabbergasted.
Doesn't want anything to do with you. You're just a stupid pest only in his way!! So why's he itching to be in your presence now?
He's so frustrated that it's actually really weird... That's the king of DARKNESS, negativity, and here he is, craving after a little touch from this mortal.
You're actually not part of the Bad Sanses. But you are part of the Star Sanses, which should make Nightmare feel good. He knows he should feel better! But he feels so much fucking worse...
After many fights between the Star Sanses, (which now includes you too), he finds himself subconsciously chasing after you.
Normally, he goes after Dream in fights, but now... His target changed. And he's not slick either. Everybody fucking noticed! And you know who noticed it right away? Yes, that's right, Dream.
I swear, your fights just includes you two flirting with each other while tussling. The Gods don't even notice how flirty you guys are, when you're saying stuff like: "I wish you'd wipe that stupid smirk off of your face, it's annoying." "You want me so bad.." "SHUT THE FUCK UP"
Nightmare doesn't know it yet, but he's slowly falling for you the more y'all are away from each other. Maybe you return his feelings back?
KILLER:
"Mamma Mia... that's one hell of a woman...." I swear, Killer's in love with you from the first time he saw you. And it wasn't because of your looks nor your flirtiness! The first time he saw you, you literally killed someone on the spot because he tried to take your food. (The God's are back at it again 💀)
Listen, Killer's NOT the shy type. That's for sure. But right now, he felt more shier than ever before. You were just so ethereal to him..
He went up to you and greeted you. Safe to say that y'all clicked together right away! Maybe.. you also fell for him from the first sight? (THE ZING FROM HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA CONFIRMED??!)
The Gods for sure striked him at least 3 times. Until you had something to say about it. The Gods stopped attacking Killer so much after they saw that you genuinely loved him back.
You two have a little flirting competition every now and then. (You always win)
He's at awe when you tell him all the crimes you've gotten away from. Cause, like, since when??!
He doesn't like it that you're a part of the Star Sanses.. "your love is not meant to be" (He's just being dramatic. As always.)
He can't help but sneak off with you when there's a fight between the Bad and Star Sanses. He just wants to be with you. And I don't mean that as only spend time with you. Nah...he WANTS you!
He actually confesses to you, he says that he loves you and that he can't help but yearn for you. Now comes the question...will you accept his confession?
DUST:
Oh baby, oh BROTHER. He's so annoyed with you. He doesn't like it much when people are as outgoing as you..
Listen, the Gods don't have much an opinion on him.. but they WILL fry him at least 5 times until getting used to seeing him around you.
While Dust doesn't like you much, you in turn LOVE him. You're flirting with him almost all the time. Which rewards you with a very blushy Dust that quickly teleports away. (Not before giving you a side eye. 💀)
Don't worry, he will also start to slowly fall for you the more y'all are conversing. (You fell first but he fell harder >>>>)
Wants for you to prove to him you did those things that you're saying you got away with. Just to fuck with you 💀
His mouth literally dropped open when he finds out you, in fact, was telling the truth. I mean, you did just get out of a store with a shitload of money in your hands.
He was about to ask you how you did it so quickly, but he was interrupted with loud sirens. Welp, looks like you're busted. He smirks at you, as if saying that he was right with you not getting away with it- until you did the most shocking thing ever. You flirted your way out of the prison by flirting with the police officers.
And this right here, was the exact moment when Dust found out he loves you. He gave the officers the hardest glare. He was FUMING. At last, he couldn't take it as his Gaster Blasters appeared and killed the humans. 💀
Becomes miserable when you join the Star Sanses. Damn..and right after he found his feelings for you :(
You both still sneak off from your respective groups to see each other.
Dust keeps comparing your situation to Romeo and Juliet, except no one's dying. He has the biggest genuine smile on his face as he says this.. he's so cute istg..
HORROR:
He just tilts his head whenever he sees you "kill off" people you flirt with. (The Gods are at fault here yet again.)
He approaches you, without a word, looking at you in silence. You both just stare into each other's eyes. It's...kinda awkward from another point of view.
Oh.my.god. THE GODS (and you) FIND HIM SO SWEET WHEN THE FIRST THING HE DOES IS GIVE YOU FLOWERS 😭😭 (some of them are ripped, but that's fine. //Bro ate them//)
He immediately becomes ok in The God's eyes. (The amount of times the Gods strikes him/fried him: 0)
BRO'S WINNING
The best part of it all, is that it was all done subconsciously. He just saw these flowers, thought they were pretty, so he tried to eat them, but then he saw you and thought that they'd fit better with a pretty woman like you.
You try flirting with him, but he either doesn't get your flirting, or he doesn't acknowledge it.
He likes listening to your crime list. He always lays down on your lap whenever you tell him these stories.
He doesn't want you to be a part of the Star Sanses, he wants you with him!! So he'll just kidnap you in the middle of the night. 🤷♀️ (And he does that so casually too 😭)
He always compliments you, whenever he can. You're just so pretty in his eyes. 😭
Horror tends to avoid talking much, as it takes him a little longer, but he'll try to talk to you more than the others :) (My HC)
ERROR:
This dofus is so amazed. He knows that you're probably the Gods favorite right away.
He's interested...I guess.
He tries to be sneaky as he creeps up behind you, and greets you. (He's just shy.. I mean- a beautiful girl like YOU? And in his territory?? He doesn't bring much people there 💀)
The God's immediately striked him btw.
Fortunately, you find him quite fun to be around. But the Gods don't like him much.
It becomes kinda difficult talking with him, when the Gods just fry him right away.
You quickly become frustrated, and try to let them somehow know that you LIKE him and want to be around him. So...you become the MOST FLIRTIEST MF THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN.
Error just becomes a blushing mess at your ministrations. "*Some flirty line*" "O-Oh- Uhm..thanks?" He doesn't even know how to respond to them.
But after awhile, it was a success and he doesn't get fried anymore! (The Gods probably became too tired of him to care, or they finally took a hint.)
Error doesn't mind the flirting much, (because he loves you) but please- for the LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY- Don't touch him. You'll immediately lose his trust if you touch him. (His Haphephobia)
Actually kinda thrives in the fact that you're a member of the Star Sanses. He's just a sucker for "prohibited love".
It also doesn't bother him much, because he's not actually an official member of the Bad Sanses. He rejected Nightmare's invite, but sometimes comes to their side if he's needed or he's just bored 🤷♀️
He makes sure that you're safe during battles. Even if you're on the other team.
Wants to hear EVERY bad thing you've done. (It...gets him kinda- going? I guess. He just finds that attractive.)
#undertale fandom#sans undertale#undertale#sans x reader#nightmare sans x reader#horror sans x reader#dust sans x reader#killer sans x reader#error sans x reader
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Naoto x male reader
Naoto has a crush on reader since childhood but he enevr approached him. And in the future he regrets it, so he ask takemichi to help him. When takemichi is in the past he tells little naoto to jump over his shadow.
And ever since naoto and reader are seen together laughing and cute stuff.
And the next time takemichi goes back to the futur Naoto is just thanking him, telling him how happy he is with reader
Naoto Tachibana x Male Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b748206286c3e351295b76a4427e3b75/a8f4f15b7f38bd20-2d/s540x810/b9dd913dfb4f6f94a61cca3d252c2dab55222dd0.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/933fd3d6f9ad2d815b465a23ab3f283d/a8f4f15b7f38bd20-20/s500x750/9446b154a4e27e4b7cf6b6a25858c8151cb04fba.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b9d9df4e82a8b8966618afc712e1abe2/a8f4f15b7f38bd20-e5/s540x810/d6836ba3528ca8307590ed43bae1be8195ee2286.jpg)
I apologize for falling off the face of the earth again...
(This took me 2 months to write because I am so bad at getting stuff done)
This felt like failure 17 on rescuing Hinata, but the two boys knew they were getting close. Even though saving Hinata was fresh on everyones minds, it wasn't the only thing holding in Naotos' attention.
Sneding Takemichi back to the past made him reminisce on his own childhood, his childhood friends. Naoto didn't have many of those. He was seen as the conspiracy theorist lunatic who was always spewing nonsense about unheard of things.
"Do you really think time travel is possible?" A young boy who looked around the same age as Naoto spoke, standing in front of his desk. It wasn't rare for kids to talk to each other, of course, but it was still shocking that someone chose this conversation starter with him.
"Well, yeah, it's not like we have proof that it doesn't exist, I think it's possible." Naoto replied eagerly. It was the first time he spoke to his classmates about something he genuinely enjoyed.
"You'll have to tell me abo-" the teacher calling for everyones attention cut Y/N short of his next few words. Quickly turning around and making his way to his desk. The class started, and they day went as normal. That was the only time Naoto ever spoke to the other boy.
Naoto was too scared to approach him again and ask what he planned on saying. He always looked so busy talking to other people. It felt pointless. Naotos daydreams were cut short when Takemichi walked through his apartment door. "I'm totally stumped, I have no idea what we can do from her." Takemichi sighed, plopping down on a chair nearby
Naoto looked away from the man just walking in, instead grabbing some old class photo he had shoved away in a drawer, circling Y/Ns face. Naoto stands with the picture in hand and looks over to Takemichi, "Why don't you try looking for ideas in the past, if nothings here, why don't you check what's happening there?" Naotos' idea bounced off the walls of Takemichis' brain. He knew he couldn't come up with a better idea than that.
"I guess I have no choice.." Takemichi grunted as he stood up to walk over towards Naoto. "Oh, and one small favor, when you find me in the past, could you try and convince me to go up to this boy." He hands Takemichi the picture with a little boys face circled, Takemichis face is mixed with confusion until he sees the saddened expression mixed onto Naotos' face. Naoto had a thing for this boy, Takemichi knew he'd Naoto at least something for all the work he'd done to help Hinata, so he agreed.
Grabbing eachothers hand and being sent to the past. Surprisingly, when Takemichi entered his consciousness, he still had the picture in hand. Walking down the street with Chifuyu to the park they always go to. The sun had started setting already, Takemichi took note as Chifuyu continued talking about whoever the hell Peke J was, Takemichi couldn't remember.
Reaching the playground, Takemichi took a seat on the swing set, Chifuyus house was nearby, and he quickly ran home before his mom on his ass about being late. "Any luck with Hinata?" Takemichi heard a younger voice coming from behind him, Naoto climbing onto the swing next the blonde.
"Oh, Naoto...hm, I've made some progress, but not enough to save yer yet." Takemichi looks at Naoto, saddened with his own response on the matter. He sighs, waiting to hear Naotos' response, but there's mothing. The younger boy stays silent, probably thinking of ways to help or what to do.
"Hey, Naoto." Takemichi blurts out as he starts to stare at the park in front of him. "What is it," Naoto looks over to the blonde with curiosity. "Do you know who this is?" Takemichi hands the photo of the circled boy to Naoto, his eyes widened slightly upon seeing the picture.
"Yeah, but how did you even get this? Prints don't come till tomorrow.." Naoto looks over at Takemichi, his certainty of Takemichis tame traveling abilities. "I just had a hunch that he might be of importance to you, and maybe our mission." Takemichi smiles brightly at Naoto.
"How would me talking to him help our mission-" Naoto was cut off as Takemichi loudly spoke his next words over him. "Just talk to him, alright! I know this'll be good for you, Tachibana." Takemichi began to take his leave, even though it'd felt like he'd only just gotten there.
Naoto watched him leave, heading home shortly after, though stealing glances at the photo every once in a while. Talk to y/n? How would that help save Hinata.
The next day felt no different for Naoto, but he knew he had to do something he wasn't used to doing...striking up a conversation. Y/n was busy talking to his other friends as Naoto walked towards him, y/ns friends cutting their conversation short, some look at Naoto as if he was an alien for just standing there.
"Hey, uh...y/n, you could see me after school. There's something I more or less wanna talk to you about." Y/n only noded in response with a small affirmative, and everyone, including Naoto, headed to their seats to listen in to the class.
The wait for school to be out was nothing short of dreadful for both Naoto and Y/n. It felt as if the words worst news was going to be dropped on them as soon as the bell rang.
Naoto was the first of the two to get out of class. Maybe it was the anxiety, but it felt like he had been waiting on y/n for ages. His anxiety seemed to worsen as y/n walked over to him. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?" Y/n gave a weak smile as he looked to Naoto.
"Right, my birthdays coming up...it's gonna be a space themes party, like Martian and stuff.." he giggled, gushing about his party while handing y/n a green envelope he seemed to have colored with marker. "I'll ask and let you know!" Y/n let out a dopey grin, grabbing the envelope with both hands.
Naotos eyes grew as he let out an awkward smile back, "I'll be dressed up, so make sure you are too, alright?" Naotos' question was answered with a simple nod from the other boy.
Naoto quickly spotted Hinata waiting nearby for him to finish his conversation. He sprinted to her while waving bye to his new friend.
Y/n opened the invitation as soon as Naoto left the secen. Hinata clearly wrote down all the information, but Naoto drew pictures of aliens and planets all over. God, he was such a nerd, that's what played through y/ns mind with a smile.
It felt like months until Naotos' birthday, when it was only around a week, he was dressed as an alien king. Around 5-8 other kids were there that were his age, but the majority were Hinatas friends. Everyone was in some half-assed space costume, some girls in sparkly "star" dresses, and others like Takemichi, who taped card board on his forehead and called it Saturn.
Y/n made his way to the party in green with some cardboard antennas he made the day he got the invite. He looked around, searching for the birthday boy. Naoto soon found y/n looking around. It's not surprising how fast he noticed y/n. It was the only thing he was thinking about the whole party.
"You came! And you're dressed up!" Naoto was cheering excitedly. No boys ever made him this happy before. Why did he feel like this. "Of course I did. Was I not supposed to?" Y/n teased back, making Naoto shake his head violently to explain himself.
"I have an idea, we should make you a crown so we can match!" Naoto beamed excitedly, dragging y/n over to where some kids were drawing. Naoto had always been a geeky kid. His party was full of all the things he'd enjoyed, conspiracies, the unknown, etc. Drawing and writing had always been big hobbies of his because it could always relate back to this stuff.
"Aren't you wearing the crown cause you're the birthday boy? I don't wanna infringe on that." Y/n stated as Naoto started drawing a crown like shape on some cardboard. "Well it is MY birthday, just trust me." Naoto began cutting out the pieces to tape together.
Y/n watched Naotos face closely as he placed the cardboard crown on his head. A giggle leaving both of them soon there after. Naoto had never cared for Takemichi. He only trusted him because he wanted to save his sister from this bad future possibility. But Takemichi forcing him to talk to you, maybe wasn't all that bad.
"Thank you, Takemichi." Takemichi had finally come back to the present after seeing you and Naotos crown situation. Takemichi looked around the room, seeing a figure by the bed in Naotos office, and someome sitting in Naotos desk chair.
Waking up more, Takemichi realized it was y/n. "I'm sure you're wondering who that is, that's y/n." Naoto looked at Takemichi with a smile. "Y/n won't remember any of the timelines, and hell it took me a long time to convince him in this one, but he will be an amazing asset for saving Hinata."
Yn gave a little wave, standing up to yake his leave so Naoto and Takemichi could talk in private.
"Thank you, Hanagaki. I don't have the words to thank you enough." Naoto grabbed Takemichis' hand and bowed slightly in a way to show his appreciation. "I'm glad you're happy with your new friend Naoto, about time you got one." Takemichi teased, with a smirk plastered on his face.
"Friend? Y/n is my boyfriend." Naoto stood up with a cheery grin, not oaying any mind to Takemichis prior insults.
"WAIT, WHAT"
#tokyo revengers x male reader#tokrev#tokyo revenger#tokyo rev#naoto x you#tachibana naoto#naoto x reader#naoto#naoto tachibana#naoto x male reader#Takemichi#hanagaki takemichi#tachibana hinata#tachibana x male reader
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Perfect Little Pet – KHJ
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7bd925dbe9ea54a888167726509c5596/98f7da4433cd18d8-cc/s540x810/68b4748a4923735e2385309c28aaaad42d5b42ba.jpg)
P: Hongjoong x afab gender neutral reader | G: smut, oneshot | Inc: cruella!au, cruella!hongjoong, assistant!reader, 'Captain', 'pet', Felix mention, journalist!Wooyoung, Yunho mention, Wooyoung/Yunho mention, set in the UK, Trafalgar Square, flaring tempers i.e. Hongjoong's, fashion studio, cruella movie-esque fashion show, Hongjoong occasionally abusing his power, wet dreams, fwb ending, a lot of British references and general mannerisms, two smut scenes | Wc: 5.9k
W: d/s tones, 'Captain' used during sex, bent over the desk, dom!Joong, sub!reader, overstim, begging, wet dreams, blowjob, cumshot on face, backshot during sex, one/two uses of the word slut, 'pet' used during sex (please let me know if I've forgotten anything, I'm writing this post up at 1 am)| R: 18+ mdni
Summary: Captain. Anyone who’s anyone knows who that is; none other but the rising name in fashion and making a name for himself for his eye-catching and punk-inspired shows. And right there in the back, is obedient little y/n, the childhood friend. The assistant to the Captain and one of the few to know Hongjoong for who he is behind the scenes, uptight and frantic and so achingly desperate to be perfect. Good thing they’re the Captain’s perfect little pet.
Min's notes: We're starting the year off strong! And you may have figured it out already, but @hee0soo, I'm your secret santa! I had so so so much fun writing this, you have no idea. When I tell you I was giggling like an idiot when you answered my question in the server, it was perfect. I hope you like reading this! And this happens to be my longest fic <33 also, 'on the dole' = on benefits hehe
There’s graphite on his hands, smudged all over the sketchbook, and Hongjoong takes another look at the plain mannequin standing by its lonesome in his office. Something’s missing, he knows it. Is it the hem? The length of the sleeves? Whatever it is, Hongjoong can’t bloody tell and it’s driving him up the wall. The designer groans, dissatisfied with own progress and discards the sketchbook on his desk. He gets up with just as much frustration, boots stomping across the floor in the direction of the balcony. His production facility looms below him, hard at work.
Almost taunting him.
“Just one more…” he mutters, taking a reluctant step back into his seat, “one more of the bloody things and I’ll be ready for runway…” Sure, it is self-imposed encouragement, but it is encouragement. Hongjoong isn’t a beggar. He’ll take what he can get. And take, of course. Until his pencil simply drags along the paper with no real goal and he snaps the dastardly thing between his sleek fingers, throwing its remains against the closest wall. It clatters to the floor just as the frustrated designer storms towards the door to his office, opening it and unleashing a powerful tension upon the production floor.
“Bring y/n up here!”
Y/n shivers from where they stand, helping move a box of supplies into the stock room. No matter how long they’ve stood by Hongjoong’s side, there is nothing that will help them get used to the sound of him barking out a command like that. A frustrated Hongjoong is a live wire – temperamental, snappy, and not someone to be approached without caution. They freeze with the box for just a moment before it’s taken out of their hands by one of the new starters.
“Captain sounds pretty miffed,” they say, pulling on the sleeve of their hoodie, “go on, I’ve got this!”
“If you’re sure…”
“Course I am luv, go on already~” And y/n is all but gently shoved out of the stock room, left to face their employer. And childhood friend.
All eyes are on y/n as they walk through the building towards those ever-familiar stairs, trying to ignore the weight of everyone’s gaze. It’s just Hongjoong, our Joongie, there’s nothing to be anxious over, their mind repeats, heels clicking along the wooden panelling amongst the unusual human silence. Seconds go by excruciatingly slowly, and finally, y/n stands in front of Hongjoong’s office. One steadying breath, and then another.
The door opens before they have a chance to knock, Hongjoong all but yanking his assistant inside and locking the door behind them both. There’s an impatient energy in the room, furthered even more by the fact y/n watches their friend pull them along to the mannequin and frantically go about putting his prized mannequin back by the window where it overlooks the production floor.
“Lean against the wall for me, will ya?” Hongjoong asks, reaching for his sketchbook once again, certain he’s found a muse in y/n. They have this gait around them that would work just so well with his new line, it would be criminal if he doesn’t capture it on paper at least once. Well, perhaps a few times, because the creativity comes back with a vengeance. His pencil glides along the cartridge paper with ease, framing y/’s silhouette perfectly and a grin erupts on his face.
Finally. Finally, he can make a start on creating the showstopper piece.
Time is but an illusion as Hongjoong works on his piece, occasionally looking up to really solidify the vision he’s got in mind. Y/n’s holding themselves just the way he needs them to, providing just the right amount of feedback and silence he needs, and Hongjoong might as well be inside a creative paradise of his own making. He’s found the right formula. He’s found his new muse, perfectly shaped in the image of y/n, his little assistant. The outfit seems to come together all on its own as he draws, each stroke of the pencil working in tandem with each other to create a look he knows will absolutely shock the viewing public in Trafalgar Square.
It’s around an hour later when the design is finally complete, Hongjoong’s mind at ease as he does one last look over everything. He’s done it. The look is perfect. There is just one thing…
He’s rather hungry now.
“Right,” he starts, setting his sketchbook down, “that’s us done here y/n, thanks again pet~”
“O-oh, it’s no prob—”
“But do get us a spot of lunch, would you? I’ve been dying to try out that new brunch café. I want either a chicken alfredo or a chicken Caesar salad, understood?” He tosses y/n his wallet as they begin to leave, turning on his heel and collapsing into his office chair with a yawn.
“Your regular coffee too, Captain?” Y/n asks. Oh, what a darling they are.
“You know me too well~ of course I want my coffee. I want them both here by the half hour.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Checking the time as they leave the café, y/n breathes a sigh of relief: they’ve got at least another fifteen minutes to make it back to the factory if they can get to Hongjoong’s favourite coffee spot before the lunchtime rush, otherwise they’ll be late. So, they make a break for it, taking extra care to leave their Captain’s lunch flat in their bag lest they have alfredo decorate the inside of the gifted Nevada Leather Weekender slung over their shoulder. The coffee spot itself is only a few metres away, less than a few minutes to run, but every second counts in the world of the Captain.
Lady Fate is on their side it seems, because there absolutely no sign of a queue, or even the beginnings of one, when y/n makes it to the coffee shop. Aurora, a quaint little place y/n remembers Hongjoong spending almost every free minute in before they watched their friend shoot to success, when they were still just two friends with a dream. Their running slows to a brisk walk as they enter, greeting the barista with a smile and getting a card ready as soon as they confirm they’re after the usual iced latte with two extra shots of espresso and a shot of vanilla. Once payment goes through and the coffee is in their hands, y/n is out of there in a heartbeat, eager to make it back in time.
“Look at you~ exactly two minutes early,” Hongjoong muses as he sees y/n walk into his office. He pockets his stopwatch, hangs his custom-made coat on the coatrack and takes his coffee. “If there’s anyone I trust to make coffee the way I like it, it’s that pretty one with the deep voice. Face of an angel, but, God, that voice?”
Oh. His lunch is on the desk, but y/n is still here.
Strange.
“Well, are you waiting for me to say something? Run along now, pet, go… oh, I don’t know, busy yourself until I need you.” He chuckles, shooing them away and waving with his fingers once y/n is finally out of the door and Hongjoong can eat his lunch in private, just the way he likes.
Y/n’s bag slides down their arm and onto the floor of their studio flat as they step inside, well-earned exhaustion lacing their bones and pulling a yawn out of their mouth as they fall onto their sofa. They’re used to running all over London for Hongjoong, sure – hell, their daily step count always passes ten thousand – but it’s the weeks leading up to one of his planned fashion event-hijackings that y/n truly feels the burn. Where they truly feel pushed to their tether.
But it’s always worth it in the end, they remind themselves in between making themselves a cup of tea, watching the kettle boil. Together, they will achieve worldwide success, their brand – Silver Light – will be in every boutique and everyone will know who the Captain is. Y/n spoons a teaspoon of sugar into the mug, pops in the teabag and pours the boiling water and milk, huffing at the connection their mind puts together.
They’re the teaspoon of sugar. Not the main event, no, but an addition to make things sweeter. To make Hongjoong’s plans sweeter.
“New sources and evidence have since come to light regarding the hijacking of Oxford Circus last week. The impromptu fashion show was caused by the organisation called Silver Light, headed by someone calling themselves the ‘Captain’, who witnesses say was armed with a cane, yet no one has been harmed. Following an insider comment…”
The rest of the news story plays on tv, y/n’s interest piqued when they recognise the journalist behind it all. One of Hongjoong’s newer friends, a trusted insider working for the BBC that y/n’s met a good few times. They grab their phone from its charger, unplugging it and dialling the number they’re looking for. It’s a few seconds before they hear the call pick up on the other end of the line.
“Can it be~?” Wooyoung’s voice sings through the phone, “the Captain’s assistant is calling little ol’ me~?”
“Good evening to you too, Wooyoung.” Y/n laughs, ever fond of the charming journalist. “I’m watching your news report tonight, my… you know just how to create the right kind of excitement. A master with words, one would say. Just how do you it~?”
“Y/n, darling,” y/n can almost see the playful rolling of the journalist’s eyes, “you’re flattering me, you know? But flattery gets you everywhere with me, so thank you ever so much.”
The conversation goes on for another half hour, y/n giving Wooyoung all the subtle information he needs to create the next buzz around Silver Light’s next big show. There needs to be a sizable crowd for Trafalgar next week, and Wooyoung is just the right person to weave his words and create that buzz y/n knows Hongjoong is looking for. All manner of press and paparazzi should be there; Silver Light needs to be on the front cover of every broadsheet and tabloid in England.
And when they switch to video call so Wooyoung can jot everything down, y/n chooses to ignore the knowing glance sent their way. They’ve had this conversation before, plenty of times even – concern that all of y/n’s efforts aren’t their own will, that Hongjoong’s somehow forcing them to be his assistant. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
They make themselves another cup of tea, and sigh when Wooyoung still refuses to back down.
“Woo, I know that look,” they sigh, already knowing what comes next. The concern, the lecturing. The you’re being his servant, y/n, you deserve more than that. “This isn’t something Hongjoong is making me do, I really do want Silver Light to succeed. This is my dream too, even if it doesn't look like I want it as much as he does, or it looks like he’s forcing me.”
“Y/n…”
“Have a little faith in me, hm?” They bargain. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“If you say so—” Wooyoung’s gaze snaps to something above the camera, “oh, Yunho’s home, he brought food! See you soon y/n~”
“See you soon, say hi to Yunho for me.”
The call ends, and y/n is left with their thoughts, a hot cup of tea, and a muted news channel playing on their tv. Rather than let themselves succumb to the impeding thoughts on the horizon, y/n sips on their tea, unmutes their tv and scrolls through BBC iPlayer until they find the most recent unwatched episode of MasterChef and hits play. The thought manages to persist, though.
Are they just Hongjoong’s errand runner? A simple cog in the machine that Hongjoong pays just that bit more attention to than the others?
Hongjoong’s footsteps echo along the floor as he walks through the production floor, inspecting every station as he passes them by. The Trafalgar show is but days away and he cannot afford a single error whatsoever. He’s counting on this one to be a success; Wooyoung’s articles have created the right kind of stir he needs, y/n’s been busting their ass helping him with the finer details, the last thing Hongjoong needs is his plan falling apart.
So why the fuck can he see someone stitching a button incorrectly?
“You!” He barks, storming over to the unsuspecting employee, fury lining his brows. It stuns the rest of the room into silence, terror in their eyes as they watch. “Are you trying to ruin this week’s show?! Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”
They shiver, the poor thing, watching as Hongjoong furiously inspects the garment for any more errors. It’s a simple mistake really, a small oversight but they know better. Everyone at Silver Light knows better:
Captain doesn’t give second chances.
But then Hongjoong smiles. Not a genuine one by any means, no, but something that’s a little too sweet.
“What’s your name, darling?”
“M-my name is Felix, Captain—” whatever Felix tries to say is cut off by a heart-attack inducing bang, Hongjoong’s cane slamming down on their workstation in the blink of an eye. The shock sends Felix tumbling, and they prick their thumb on a fashion pin, droplets of blood staining the floor where they stand.
“Oh, just get out!”
“Captain, wait! P-please!”
“You’re fired, get out!”
A pin-drop silence echoes through the building, Hongjoong’s frustration palpable to everyone watching. The workstation is unmanned now, no one remaining to take the task, yet the buttons still need to be taken out and resewn on. Properly, this time. Exhaling, Hongjoong slips his cap off in favour of brushing his hand through his hair, the black and white split-dye messing up and framing his face.
What he needs right now, is y/n to make his problem go away. To be his reliable ally and fix the problem in his way.
He pats his coat down, looking for his phone and almost wants to cry out in relief when he finds the infernal device in his back pocket. A deep breath slips past his lips, and he calls y/n.
And like the angel they are, y/n picks up.
“…Joong?” They rasp out, clearly still tired. “It’s my day off, is everything alright over there?”
No, everything is not alright, Hongjoong wants to rant, the stress itching away at under his skin.
“I really, really wish it was, pet. How fast can you get here?” He asks, praying that the rustling he hears from the other end is y/n changing into their usual work outfit.
“Y/n? Pet?”
“Still here!” They call out, and Hongjoong has half the mind to kiss them when they arrive. “Just checked the traffic, I can make it in twenty?”
“Make it fifteen and I’ll get you that pretty gem of a car you’ve had your eye on.” Hongjoong offers, huffing out a laugh when y/n readily agrees, and the line goes dead seconds later. They’re on their way to Silver Light, and all his problems will be solved. For whom else can Kim Hongjoong rely on other than his y/n?
The clock ticks by agonisingly slowly, teasing Captain with every second that y/n is still on their way. Sure, he can fix this specific coat that Felix so wonderfully fucked up, but there’s a whole line of these that need to be done, and the designer is only human. He can’t do this alone. But he can relax because as soon as Captain resigns himself to hand-stitching every coat, y/n comes in through the door, hurrying over to the workstation and shoo-ing Captain away.
“And you fired him?! Over a button?!” Y/n asks, completely baffled as they listen to Hongjoong rant while they’re stitching the buttons properly. “You really have lost your marbles, Kim Hongjoong.”
“But you still came to my aid! Y/n, you know I couldn’t do all of this without you~” They deadpan, scoffing with smile they can’t control when Hongjoong latches himself onto their back in gratitude. “You’ll be able to handle doing the rest of the coat buttons, right?
Y/n rolls their eyes. They can handle it.
“Bring Felix back, and I’ll stay until the end of the day,” they bargain.
“Deal!”
Y/n doesn’t regret offering to help Hongjoong, really, they don’t, but they have a day off in the middle of the week for a reason. Exhaustion nips away them as they finish the last of the coat buttons, hanging the last one on the rack and patting the sleep out of their face as best they can. Felix is back inside, replacing y/n at his workstation with a meek smile and y/n doesn’t know whether to be happy the young man is back or give the split-dyed designer running the entire outfit a piece of their mind—
And Hongjoong’s calling them into his office.
There’s a corkboard standing when they enter, Hongjoong pinning post-its with various last-minute details. It’s chaotic — more so than usual. Y/n takes a few steps towards the board, reading Hongjoong’s ideas and avoiding the eccentric designer running circles around them.
“Why the last-second rush around?” They ask, still obediently helping Hongjoong sort out his mismatch of written thoughts. “I thought we figured all the details? You’re going to smash the event, Joong, I know what you’re capable of.”
“Awe, thanks y/n~” Hongjoong pats their shoulder. “Your unwavering faith in me is awe inspiring~”
“Oh, shut up,” y/n laughs, then yawns. Bloody hell, they’re tired. “I know I said I was going to stay for the rest of the day, but I’m asleep on my feet here... I can come in tomorrow?” It’s a risky bargain trying to convince Hongjoong like this, but it’s worth a try.
“Y/n, pet... You’re just fine, just sit in here for a bit,” and there goes their chance at rest as Hongjoong admonishes them. “And I need that brilliant mind of yours for later; can’t have you sitting at home, now can we~?”
No, no he can’t apparently. So, y/n stays, because of course they do.
But now it’s a day before the big hijack, at the god-awful time of one in the morning and Hongjoong is still deliberating over what to wear for the event, lovingly dubbed Project Trafalgar by his darling y/n. Y/n, who answered his messages only half an hour before and watches Hongjoong run around from their spot on his bed, legs crossed and looking oh so cute.
So easily corruptible. But he stores that thought away.
Hongjoong holds up one of his favourite blazers for y/n, a navy cropped piece he’s admittedly worn far too many times. It’s supposed to go with the rest of his outfit that’s already spent a good few hours working on, one that’s going to blow people’s minds away when he reveals himself once Project Trafalgar finishes successfully. Y/n tilts their head, examining the clothing and giving a sleepy thumbs up, nodding their head as they approve of his choices.
“You know~” Hongjoong sings as he goes to hang the blazer up in preparation for tomorrow. “Sometimes I think you’re the true genius behind our success, you always know just how to make everything look absolutely perfect.”
Y/n laughs, and Hongjoong wants to hear more of it.
“Is that Kim Hongjoong appreciating me I hear?” They tease, and Hongjoong gets to hear more of that endearing laugh when he mock-glares in their direction. “I’m just taking the mick, relax. I appreciate what you said, this is important to me. Silver Light and yourself.”
“You’re important me to me too, pet.” And it’s true.
His outfit hung up and decided, Hongjoong finally starts to feel the pull of exhaustion himself. Y/n really wasn’t lying when they said the designer was going to crash from his adrenaline high. He stretches, lithe and cat-like, and disappears into his ensuite to change into something a bit more… suitable for sleeping after an all-nighter putting together his outfit. His cleanser and other nighttime hygiene products are on the shelf above the sink, and Hongjoong figures that he might as well get started removing the stress of the day from his face.
“Y/n, darling,” he starts, “do you think that—”
Hongjoong stops talking when he gets no answering noise in return, and he pokes his head out of his bathroom. Y/n is asleep. He chuckles; of course, y/n is asleep because unlike himself, y/n actually has a normal sleep schedule.
So, he forgoes the question was going to ask them in favour of heading to his bed, lifting’s y/n’s head and resting it on his lap after he sits down. Their hair is soft, he finds, loosely getting his fingers tangled as he finds a strange comfort in the moment he's found himself in. The silence doesn’t help either; letting Hongjoong’s mind spill out words of gratitude he knows his pride would never let him say. It’s better that way, anyway.
But Captain isn’t entirely devoid of basic human empathy.
“Get some rest, pet,” he mutters, “you earned it, my busy little assistant.”
Hongjoong shivers, his head thrown back on the sofa of his flat as he watches y/n through near-shut eyes. They’ve got the head of his cock in their mouth, swirling their tongue around the tip and good lord does Hongjoong want to just buck his hips into y/n’s warm, pretty mouth and—
Not yet. Not if he wants to stretch this out and enjoy it just that little bit longer.
But apparently, he isn’t the only impatient one in the room because y/n wastes no time in getting more of his length inside their mouth, hand wrapping around the remainder. Cold hands and a warm mouth are a killer combination, and Hongjoong shivers with a groan, bucking his hips forward and enjoying the sound of y/n’s muffled surprise.
“Don’t you start acting like that, pet,” he says, reaching down to grab their hair. He gives a few testing thrusts and fuck does he want more. “You’re just as eager as I am, you and I both bloody well know that.”
A rhythm develops, one that has sinful noises bouncing around Hongjoong’s flat and a coil of heat building in his abdomen, his orgasm drawing closer by the minute. Y/n’s moans send vibrations up his cock, and it’s really not all that fair. Not when he’s trying so hard not to just shoot his load down y/n’s pretty throat.
But fuck if y/n isn’t trying to suck his soul out, their criminally talented tongue making his cock twitch. Higher and higher his voice climbs, until his hips are twitching, breaking his rhythm and Hongjoong wraps his legs around y/n’s back, gently forcing them to look him in the eye.
“Where do you want it, pet?” He’s met with y/n’s questioning blink before they tap their face and their chest. “Fucking tease, want me to paint you in my cum? That right, baby?”
They nod, pulling themselves of Hongjoong and yanking off their top in record time. His cock is in their mouth again, twitching as the coil builds and builds, until Hongjoong pulls out, pulling y/n’s face back and coming with a shout of their name.
“Fuck, darling...that was—"
Y/n’s startled awake when Hongjoong shoots up out of bed, watching through tired eyes as the frazzled man looks around the bedroom. They do the same, deciding under the cloud of sleep to not question how and why they ended up in the same bed, but whatever time it is, is no humane time to be awake. So, y/n pads around for their phone, checks the time, and groans.
It’s three in the morning.
“Joong...everything okay?” They ask, shrugging the cover over their face, eager to return to sleep.
“Hm? Oh— yes, yes... everything’s fine, just have Trafalgar on my mind.” Of course, he does. They roll their eyes, an affectionate chuckle and reach over to yank him back down, filing away the sound of Hongjoong’s squeak in the depths of their mind.
“Go back to sleep, love…it’s too early for you to fret.” Y/n says, the comfort of their words wrapped in the inviting warmth of sleep. They fall back asleep just as well, quickly enough that they miss the tint on Hongjoong’s face and his mumbled agreement.
There is all but one precious hour until Project Trafalgar is underway, and Captain has been fidgeting with his hands for the last half of it. He goes through every step of the process once, twice and he’s about to go through it a third time when Captain feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s y/n, and he takes a few deep breaths as per their instructions as his mind hits the breaks on his fretting.
“Captain, you’re doing it again.” They admonish. He blinks; he’s doing what? “Bloody hell, you’re the greatest fashion visionary in British history, this will go perfectly. Ok?”
“Ok.” Captain nods, maintaining eye contact. Reliable little y/n, always by his side. He keeps up with the eye contact, looking into the eyes watching him with so much confidence and unbridled trust that he can feel the confidence resurface under his own skin.
And then y/n leans forward to peck his lips, and his heart does a thing.
“Go on, show them all who Silver Light’s captain is.” Y/n chuckles.
“Are you saying they forgot, pet?” Hongjoong counters, the need to fret over last minute details gone entirely. “Tonight, will be unforgettable, I can promise you that much pet. Make sure you’re watching, hm?”
And watch, y/n does, as they stay hidden away from the obvious police presence Silver Light seems to attract and watch as Captain’s show begins. The music is loud, attention-grabbing and y/n feels excitement light up every nerve in their body. Months. Months and months of sweat, blood and tears has gone into every moment, and they watch the models come into view, each wearing an individual piece from Captain’s new line. It’s gorgeous. Utterly stunning, and y/n can’t help but snap a few pictures and record a quick video.
They’re going to need material to send to Wooyoung, after all.
The next half of the models make their appearance, and y/n very much joins the crowd’s cheering, clapping as each piece is given its moment and basking in the theatrics of it all. Everything sings with Hongjoong’s personal touch. It’s dramatic and elegant and everything that y/n knows to be the essence of Hongjoong’s taste and the Silver Light brand. The crowds are loud, and y/n uses the opportunity to slip away unnoticed from the police and the general public, back into the safehouse Silver Light had so kindly borrowed for tonight’s event. Sure, they’re going to miss when Hongjoong reveals himself and scatters leaflets inviting everyone to purchase an item from his collection, but they’ve seen that all before.
And then they fall asleep on the closest sofa.
Hongjoong bounces in with excitement as he pushes the door of the safehouse wide open, the leftover adrenaline coursing through his veins. He laughs, victorious and gleeful before yanking a now wide-awake y/n.
“Someone looks happy~” they comment, and Hongjoong stops outside his makeshift office, letting his adrenaline take the lead and planting a kiss on their lips.
“Oh, y/n,” he exclaims, pushing open the door and pulling y/n inside. “You have no idea! My darling pet, I~ will be making good on that promise I made.”
And almost immediately he has y/n pressed against the wall as he captures their lips in a kiss, eager and finally getting to act on that bundle of unspoken desire in his chest. A hand is cupping their cheek, tilting y/n’s head as Hongjoong’s tongue pushes past their bottom lip, demanding entry in the only way he can. He explores the warmth he had dreamt about, a chuckle sounding in his throat as y/n’s mouths feels just as good as he had imagined.
“Perfect…” he whispers, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths as he pulls away. “my perfect, perfect y/n…”
Hongjoong gasps in pleasant surprise when y/n makes the move to attack his neck, kissing and sucking on his skin with vigour. He relents, exposing his neck for his darling y/n and busies himself with the task of removing their clothes. By simply ripping them clean off, enjoying the surprised whimper that vibrates against his neck. He pulls them back just that little bit, running his gaze across their exposed body and—
Oh, how pretty his y/n is.
The hairs on the back of y/n’s neck stand up under Hongjoong’s eyes as heavy breaths leave their lips. This is happening now, and they want it, no matter what tonight will do to their friendship with the man in front of them. Whatever lingering hesitations they’ve ever had go out the window, and y/n wastes no time themselves in removing Hongjoong’s clothes, just that bit gentler about it than him.
“Pretty little pet,” they shiver as Hongjoong whispers in their ear. “Want to be good for me, don’t you?”
And they do. They really, really do.
Somewhere in between heated touches and the new hickeys being made on their skin, y/n watches as Hongjoong sinks to his knees, grabbing the inside of their thighs and getting dangerously close to their cunt. He’s taking his time, kissing just close enough to their folds, making y/n twitch in anticipation, but it’s not enough. They want more. Y/n needs more. So, they buck their hips, chasing the feeling but whimper the moment Hongjoong pulls himself away and holds them still.
“You said you’d be good for me, pet, didn’t you?” They nod.
“Then beg. Beg for me to get my mouth on that gorgeous little cunt like the good little slut we both know you are for me.”
So, y/n begs. Pleads with Hongjoong to shove his face in between their legs and eat them out until their knees buckle, for him to push his lithe fingers inside and wring cries out of their mouth. For Hongjoong to fuck them.
Satisfied, Hongjoong digs his fingers into y/n’s thighs as he pulls their legs apart, tutting as his favourite little pet tries closing their legs, suddenly shy. What, did they think he was joking?
“Still or I leave you like this, understand?”
“Yes, yes Captain…” And Hongjoong likes that.
“You keep calling me that, pet.” He says, and wastes no time in pulling himself closer, licking a fat stripe along y/n’s folds. They’re wet, and Hongjoong goes to town, indulging himself and sucking on the sensitive flesh until his nose is buried in y/n’s cunt, drinking up the sounds of his pet’s gasps and whines, his title a song on their lips. He keeps going, bringing his fingers to y/n’s untouched clit, rubbing against the bud in achingly slow circles.
He spends minutes like this, slipping two of his fingers inside y/n’s sopping cunt and sparing little mercy as he coaxes them closer and closer to orgasm. Hongjoong’s cock is stiff in his dress pants, straining against the fabric and the taste on y/n on his tongue is going to make him fucking come if he isn’t careful. He peers up from where he’s kneeling between their legs, hooded eyes making contact with the desperation looking back at him.
“Hong— Captain! Please!” Y/n cries when Hongjoong slips a third finger inside them, hands scrambling for purchase against the wall of the office. They’re close, so achingly close and fucking dammit they need to come so badly. But Hongjoong doesn’t relent, raising a brow and watching them writhe where they stand.
“Please, what, pet?” He taunts. “Use your words like the good pet you are.”
“I— I want to come! Please, Captain, I’m so— fuck, fuck— so close, I need—” Whatever words they want to say are stolen out of their throat, replaced instead by an overwhelming pleasure that has them squeezing their eyes shut, at the mercy of Hongjoong’s will. It’s unrelenting, and soon enough their orgasm is crashing through them, shooting stars through their vision all the while Hongjoong makes them ride it out on his fingers, the man getting off his knees and pulling them into a heated kiss. They can taste themselves on his lips, and it only spurs on another wave of desire.
They’re bent over the desk when the last of the first aftershocks leave their systems, head held back by neck as Hongjoong whispers dirty promises and slides his cock into their inviting – and only a little sensitive – cunt. A second goes by, the designer allowing y/n to only just get used to it before he starts thrusting, a leisurely quick pace.
“All this time, darling,” Hongjoong groans from above them,” all this time I could have had this perfect body of yours bent over my desk. Made for me, you were, absolutely made for me.”
And fuck, aren’t they just?
Hongjoong can’t hold back anymore, and he presses his chest against y/n’s back, pounding away into their tight hole and groping their chest in his hands, nipples caught in between thumb and index finger. Y/n’s cries are only motivation, and in the few seconds it takes for him to figure out the best angle, Hongjoong decides he’s allowed to chase his own high, giving into the devil on his shoulder and biting on the soft flesh of y/n shoulder.
“It’s so much, oh god—”
“Fuck- just a little longer pet, c’mon,” he rasps, his own orgasm well within reach. “Where do you want it, hm? You can answer that much, can’t you?”
“Yes, yes, fuck— on my back, I want it on my back!” And what else is Hongjoong to do, but oblige? He fucks them into them with the slightest hint of abandon, holding y/n impossibly closer and the orgasm builds, and builds, until he’s pulling out and coming onto their back with a drawn-out moan, his hips stuttering as the waves of pleasure begin to die down.
Exhaustion makes its way into the room, but it’s welcome this time, as Hongjoong very graciously helps y/n rest on the sofa he’d luckily had moved inside the office. There’s some wipes and a towel, and he makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up, ruffling up y/n’s hair when they watch him, almost surprised.
“And what’s that look for?” He huffs, tossing the used wipes away and patting them both dry. “I’m not that bad.”
Y/n simply laughs and shakes their head. They’re rather cute sometimes.
“Just,” they gesture to the office and between the two of them, “all of this; the event, the sex, the… us, I guess? I’m going to be sore tomorrow but fuck, that was amazing.”
Hongjoong nods along as he heads over to his desk and pulls out two water bottles, handing one to y/n as he sits down beside them, the pair donning robes. Nothing but the finest cotton, of course. There’s a silence that overcomes the rooms, and Hongjoong welcomes it ��� y/n too, sinking into the plush cushions and eying the evidence of sex in the room.
And then Hongjoong breaks the three minutes of silence, because his mind suddenly craves an answer.
“Y/n, pet… do you think this will change anything?”
“Between us, you mean?” He nods.
“Well, you’re treating me the same way you normally do, I don’t exactly want to date you…seems pretty same-y to me.” Y/n reasons, but then they pause. “Though, the sex continuing would be a pretty nice bonus~”
Hongjoong laughs, “so our little relationship is on the dole then, is it?”
“Oh shut up, you.”
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