#whatever….still I couldn’t move on with my day unless I made these

[transk0vsky]

I couldn’t function until I made these

[papurgaatika]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 

  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[hanniesluvr]

wake up, sunshine | c.sc

somno + breeding kink with seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: smut, est. relationship

wc: ~1.2k (again… not proofread)

synopsis: morning sex w seungcheol and yall lowkey want babies but you also don’t (rn).

!other kinktober fics!

a/n: 11am on the due date… HELP you guys please i know this is MID as FUCK!! i have zero motivation right now for this, but i wanted to put something out. i’ll come back one day w a better cheol fic to make up for this tiny thing ): also there’s a lot of “fuck”s in this idk… what happened. oh and one last thing…

SM SUPPORTS BULLYING!

it was just past 7am. the crisp fall breeze whispered through the bedroom window, nipping seungcheol on his shoulder. his eyes fluttered open as he rolled over onto his back. he stared at the ceiling for a couple seconds before looking to his right side where you were still lying fast asleep. a soft smile crept onto his face as he watched your peaceful form rise and fall with each breath. he reached his arm out to tuck your hair that had fallen in your face, behind your ear. he shifted onto his side to admire you more comfortably, never growing bored of this hobby. uninterrupted, getting to stare at the beauty in front of him that he was lucky enough to call “mine”.

unless you had an early shift, seungcheol was always awake before you. always exhausted from work, you loved to milk your sleep for all it was worth, whereas your boyfriend would prefer to start his days early. you’d normally wake up an hour after him to the smell of bacon permeating the air in your room.

however, this morning was different.

“fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, nowhere near loud enough to wake you. something about the way your nose had a slight pink tint from the open window, the way your hair was draped beautifully behind you, and the way he could catch a glimpse of your chest down the top of the comforter had his cock trying to break free from his boxers. you looked… devine. in your sleep, you rolled onto your back, and seungcheol took it as an opportunity to get some early breakfast.

he couldn’t help himself. he ducked under the covers, moving himself in between your legs. even in pitch blackness, he knew your body like the back of his hand. he effortlessly moved his arms under your thighs, lifting them over his shoulders, holding them tightly. he gave your inner thighs a couple soft kisses before kitten licking your clit. gentle enough to not startle you, but the feeling so blissful nonetheless, you start shifting your hips slightly under his hold. seungcheol smiled against your core before using an arm to lift the comforter up to see your angelic face already looking down at him. “wake up, sunshine,” he cooed before taking your clit into his mouth, still maintaining eye contact. you gasped at the sudden warmth, in contrast to your now cold, exposed skin. “ch-cheol, what’re you doing?” you giggled out. you don’t even remember falling asleep fully naked but, whatever. you’re currently glad you did.

“having an appetizer before breakfast,” he stated very matter of fact. “i woke up extra hungry, i guess,” he shrugged with a tender smile on his face.

you giggled again before running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands to hint that you wanted his face up here with yours, and (even tho his tongue was magic) something else between your legs. your boyfriend couldn’t help his sweet nature, though. as he crawled on top of you, eyes locked on yours, he whispered, “you have the prettiest eyes baby,” before attacking your lips with his. when he pulled away you smiled, “imagine if we made little me’s… ya know… my eyes and stuff…” he chuckled at your flushed cheeks and flustered demeanor. were you trying sweet talk him? dirty talk him? your half-asleep brain had no idea, but he knew exactly what you were getting at.

he hummed before kissing your forehead, then your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck... he lingered there, leaving tender, wet kisses on your skin. the softness of it all slowly sending you back off into your dreams. “cheol…” you whispered, almost completely asleep. seungcheol pulled away from your neck, once again hovering over you. he smiled at your sleepy face. knowing that he was soothing your body so well that he’d sent you back to sleep was making his cock swell up with even more need. he loved taking care of you in every way. he lived for it. he craved your happiness. when you were satisfied, so was he.

he reached his hand down to grab his cock from his boxers, inhaling sharply at the contact. he rubbed his tip lightly up and down your entrance, smearing a mix of your slick and his spit all over your cunt. he pushed himself inside of you with a low, quiet groan in hopes to not disturb you too much. you squirmed a bit, definitely not asleep, but still too tired and relaxed to open your eyes. “mmmph cheol…”

seungcheol sluggishly started thrusting in and out of you, his hand moving up to cup your face. “are you awake yet, sunshine?” he breathed. “uh uh,” you whimpered, smiling softly with your eyes still closed. “gotta fuck you awake then hm?” he smirked before picking up his pace. you moaned out at his increased determination to get you both off out of nowhere. in no time, seungcheol’s hips were snapping into yours and he was demanding you to look him in the eyes as he wrecked you from the inside out. his voice started to raise in pitch. “do you feel me in there, love? f-feel me all in your stomach hm? god~ -m gonna fill you up with my cum yeah?” he panted, resting his forehead on yours. “y-yes p-please cheol, please… breed me” you pleaded, fully awake at this point. seungcheol’s hips stuttered. he had to stop himself. “fuuuck,” he growled at your words. he started thrusting in and out of you again, far more brutal than before. “such a good girl. so g-good begging for me to breed you huh? p-pump you full of my cum? fuck~” he panted out, chasing his high. you were right behind him, the knot in your tummy ready to snap at any moment. “ch-cheol i’m gonna cum,” you cried out, screwing your eyes shut, arching your back. you crying his name, pressing your tits up against him… he was done for. “fuck~” he moaned out pushing his cock all the way inside you, filling you up completely.

morning showers weren’t your thing, but you had no choice this morning. you and cheol were both a mess.

“so,” cheol started from inside the kitchen, grabbing you a plate of food. your eyes admiringly watching him cross over to the dining table where you were. “you want babies hm?” he asked in a teasing tone. you chuckled grabbing the plate from him, then he sat with his. “i mean yeah one day… not now, though,” you poked at a piece of scrambled egg with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. “that’s too bad..” cheol jokingly sighed. “too bad?” you raised an eyebrow. “yeah… i don’t know i got like… a warm fuzzy feeling over the thought of little yous running around.” you beamed at his words. “that’s called a paternal instinct,” you giggled, then you continued, “and i’m glad you have one.” you reached over the table patting him on his head.

tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goblynnrockz @actuallynarii @glttrlix @iluvhoshi

[earlysunshines]

drive me crazy!

pham hanni x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: hanni can bear physical touch—unless it’s from you and is oblivious to why that is, oblivious to only her.

warnings: sixth!member reader ; cute and FLUFFY YAAYYY!!!! ; my girl... pls why r u stupid my cute little idiot ; a lil angsty ; idk anything else i didn't mention ; oh um... rly jdashfasd iffy on how the pacing is plus the pining and like everything... was supposed to be short and cute but then i made it more LOL ; not proofread (i don't like reading if u couldn't tell)

a/n: short, silly, cute, lovely, adorable (so hanni) anyways HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! to gf!! also now all the members i write for have a sixth!member reader fic LOL

hanni has always been fine with physical touch, she kind of has to be considering she’s friends with danielle and hyein.

she lets them drag her by the arm, cling onto her, and whatever else that they desire because that’s just how they are. hanni is fine with this, she’s fine with anything the members do.

but you? you’re a whole different story and she has no clue why.

the slightest amount of physical contact from you sends her spiralling, she can’t think right the moment your shoulders graze or fingers brush against one another. her palms go sweaty, her breath gets short, and her face warms up; hanni tends to be more distant when it comes to you.

maybe it's the way you do it so effortlessly, plus that little smirk on your face that renders her dumber than she already is. maybe it's because your hands are always so warm that it makes her flinch away, or maybe it's something more. but this could mean nothing, right?

--

exhibit a:

hanni wasn’t always wary of your touch. there was a point in time where she’d give you hugs without thinking, let you lean on her shoulder or lean on yours, even intertwine fingers during livestreams or just spontaneously because why not?

one night, while in spain during your time recording for the new ep, you two had been put into a room together. there had been two beds, but you wanted to hangout near hanni while you doom scrolled and texted your friends. hanni let you linger there, neither of you had made any physical contact during the time until you mindlessly put your leg over hers, linking it.

while you went on your phone hanni would glance at you, she didn’t know why. you caught her in the midst of it, interrupted her while she traced the curve of your lips and she could only blush.

“is there something on my face?”

hanni still stares, not answering for a bit until a few seconds pass.

“no, i just zoned out.”

“okay...?” you ignore it with a chuckle, returning to your phone.

after hours of scrolling, you yawn, your phone falling somewhere on the bed as the hours of recording and singing throughout that day had caught up to you.

you fell asleep first, your breathing soft and steady, while hanni lay beside you, wide awake. she didn’t mind though. you hadn't moved to your bed, and hanni isn't strong enough to carry you (she's smaller and shorter, that's quite given; you tease her endlessly for it). she couldn’t bring herself to wake you up, watching the peaceful way you drifted off. she felt warm next to you, like it was the most natural thing in the world to be here, sharing this moment. eventually, she let her eyes close too, not bothering to move. she liked the closeness.

the two of you fell asleep beside each other on your backs, your hands barely touching and a leg tangled with the other.

when you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how you were wrapped around her. your arm was draped over her waist, your body molded against hers, and for a moment, you were too comfortable to move. it was similar to the feeling of cuddling your pillow at night in the dorms, but instead with hanni. you really liked the feeling of her in your arms, weirdly enough.

hanni was awake now too, but she hadn’t shifted yet. instead, she lay still, her heart beating faster as she became hyperaware of the closeness between you two. she could feel your warmth, every breath, every slight movement, and it made her feel bubbly and panicked.

hanni wasn’t used to feeling this way, like her entire body was on edge, but in the best way possible. being this close to you��it made everything feel different, more intense. physical touch isn't new to her in the slightest, considering all the members are a little touchy (danielle is a whole different story), but she's never felt this way with you or any of the other members. her thoughts were running a mile a minute, and she couldn’t help but steal glances at your face, admiring how soft and peaceful you looked in the morning light. her nerves kicked in when she realized how close your lips were to her shoulder, how intimate this all suddenly felt.

fuck, hanni thought. everything felt so perfect, but this only made her more wary.

and then you stirred, slowly waking up again, your eyes fluttering open. when your gaze landed on her, your lips curved into the softest, sleepiest smile, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“morning han,” you mumble, your voice raspy with sleep as you reach up to gently caress her face. your thumb brushes her cheek, and she can’t help but lean into your touch, her skin tingling from the simple gesture.

hanni can't breathe. her lips part, and then she closes her mouth to tense her jaw.

“you’re so pretty in the morning,” you say, still groggy but sincere. "how are you real?"

hanni’s face flushes immediately, her heart doing flips as she stares at you, wide-eyed. “you can’t just say things like that,” she murmurs, trying to suppress a smile, feeling shy all of a sudden.

you chuckle softly, your hand still resting on her cheek, not wanting to pull away. “why not? it’s true.”

hanni wants to pull away, it's too much. she feels like her heart might just escape from her chest.

the way you look at her, sleepy but affectionate, makes her feel weirdly nervous in the best way. the closeness, the intimacy—it’s overwhelming, but in a way that makes her want to stay right there, wrapped up in you.

but she can't, the pit in her stomach doesn't let her.

she shifts away, turning and groaning playfully as she stretches. she checks her phone, the time saving her from this situation.

"shit, we should be getting up soon."

you frown, hand resting on hanni's waist still until she sits up and rubs her eyes. "do we have to?" you ask, wanting to stay in bed a little longer with her in your arms. something about being so close to her and her specifically makes you really content.

"we have to get to the location, eat, get ready, recording—you know, all that."

you pout, rolling away from her and finding a pillow to replace her warmth.

"five more minutes?"

"fine..." hanni huffs, looking at you fondly. she can't tell if she's fond of the weird rush you give her either.

—

exhibit b

hanni is in the middle of vlogging, setting up her phone on the counter as she stirs something on the stove. her voice is light, a little bubbly, as she explains what she’s making for dinner, though she’s focused on keeping everything smooth for the video.

the phone drops and she groans, biting her lip subtly as she sets it back up, returning to her little commentary.

“so, i’m just letting this simmer for a bit,” she says, leaning closer to the pot, “and then i’ll—”

before she can finish, you come up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. she gasps, then freezes for a second, her whole body stiffening as your head gently rests on her shoulder. she can feel your warmth instantly, she can smell your signature sweet perfume, and the sudden contact makes her heart jump into her throat.

your arms pull her close, and her cheeks heat up as if the stove’s flames were warming her directly. she knows she’s still on camera, but for a moment, she can barely remember what she was even talking about.

“hey,” you mumble softly, voice low and a bit tired, but sweet. “what are you making?”

hanni’s grip on the spoon tightens, and she laughs awkwardly, trying to play it cool. “uh, j-just… dinner,” she manages, her voice a little higher than usual. her brief stutter earns a punch to herself (mentally of course) and she cringes internally. her brain is short-circuiting from the feel of you pressed against her back, your head so close to hers. she swears her face is probably bright red by now. there is no way this is getting cut out, especially not with the popularity you two have as a duo.

you lift your head from her shoulder, standing beside her but still lingering close, your arm brushing against hers. hanni tries her best to focus on the camera, forcing herself to talk about the food again, but it’s so difficult with you right there, looking effortlessly adorable after coming back from your shoot. you’re in casual clothes, but there’s something about the way you look—tired but still glowing—that makes her even more flustered.

“you look cute,” she hears you say softly, just loud enough for her to hear but not for the camera, and it completely throws her off. you look her dead in the eye, your gaze dropping to her lips and then back up as you smile. she almost drops the spoon, quickly looking at the camera and then back at the food, trying to regain her composure. her mind is a mess. how is she supposed to vlog when you’re like this?

“uh—thank you,” hanni stammers, her cheeks fully tinted pink now. she tries to laugh it off, stirring the pot with more focus than necessary, but the tension in her shoulders gives her away.

you chuckle softly, leaning a little closer to check what she’s making. “need help?”

hanni shakes her head quickly, eyes wide as she glances at you, then back at the camera. “n-no! i’m good, totally fine,” she insists, though her flustered state says otherwise.

“okay,” you hum, stepping back but still watching her with a teasing grin. "but if you need me to cut anymore veggies or meat i can! just ring me up! bunnies, did you know that i'm actually a wonnnnnnderful cook? i used to cook a lot with my parents-"

hanni lets you ramble, she loves hearing you ramble. she can't help but smile everytime you do, your voice is like music to her ears, it’s a symphony.

when you're finished with your ramble, you bring the attention back to hanni. "now back to our show!"

hanni lets out a quiet breath of relief, trying her best to wrap up the vlog—or at least this segment. “so, yeah! um, this just needs a few more minutes, and then dinner will be ready.” her voice wavers slightly, but she manages to end the video, turning off the camera with shaky hands.

as soon as the camera’s off, she turns to you, her face still red, and you can’t help but laugh softly at how flustered she is.

“you’re impossible,” she mutters, playfully swatting at you, but there’s a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“what?” you ask, oblivious to everything going on.

"i--" hanni pauses, shaking her head before flicking you in the forehead. "go change, dinner will be ready by then."

…

@/dailyyn on twitter:

“hanni and y/n crumbs! look how good y/n looks after the shoot… imagine being her gf and she greets you like this… id kill to be hanni”

the clip shows you surprising hanni, making her blush with your subtle antics and sharing the cute moment on camera. fans go a little insane partially because of your look, and also the chemistry between the two of you.

↪️@/tokkijeans: is it just me or are they really close? like.. suspiciously close

↪️@/ynslover: replying to @/tokkijeansi wouldn’t be surprised if they. were dating… i’ve never seen hanni so shy

↪️@/hanynenjoyer: this video is so cute! they’re my everything…

—

exhibit c

the studio was lively, filled with activity as the photobook shoot progressed. bright lights flashed intermittently, casting soft shadows over the set as you and hanni stood close, posing for the camera.

you two were in arguably casual clothing, but obviously topped off with some extra details because it was for a photoshoot. you couldn't stop staring at hanni, stealing glances whenever you could. she looked gorgeous, that wasn't debatable. her hair was styled in a way that made it a little wavy and a small clip pinned the hair that would frame her face back.

in return, hanni was doing her absolute best to keep her cool. the light makeup made your features stand out subtly, especially your lips (which hanni couldn't stop stealing a peek at), making you look stunning. you'd probably go trending on twitter later, hanni knows you like to upload selcas after things like this, and each one never fails to gain lots of attention.

(not just from the fans, but from your fellow member too.)

the photographers suggested subtle intimacy—small, delicate touches, heads leaning together, eyes locking in moments that felt almost too real. they had convinced you two it would fit the concept: domestic, casual, and comfortable. for you, it was easy to comply, maybe even natural, to slip into those roles. especially when it was hanni by your side.

your hand brushed against hers as you adjusted your stance, smiling to yourself when you caught her glancing at you. hanni was trying to keep her cool, you could tell—but why? her usual ease seemed strained, her body a little tense despite the casual poses. but you? you were just happy to be this close to her, to feel her warmth as you both leaned into the moment.

the photographer directed a few more shots, asking you to sit beside hanni and lean your head against her shoulder. you did so with ease, resting your cheek carefully on her shoulder. you could feel her freeze slightly under your touch, her body rigid against yours. you bring your hand over and place it over hers, rubbing your fingers gently against her skin to coax her back into relaxation—miraculously, it works.

you didn’t think too much the whole thing; after all, these shoots always required some closeness. but with hanni, it was different. your heart felt lighter being near her, warmer in a way that you didn’t feel with anyone else. you smiled softly as you shifted into the next pose, letting her lean against you this time, her back pressing against your shoulders.

she smelled sweet, like the faintest hint of citrus, and you found yourself wanting to linger there a little longer.

"you smell good." you mumble softly as the photographer readjusts his settings. "like really good."

hanni doesnt answer, she opts for pinching you playfully instead, earning a chuckle.

"what? you look really good too."

"shut up." hanni says, mostly for the sake of her sanity. "you're so... ugh."

the moment ended when the photographer had caught both of your attention again. you two stop bickering (if you could even call it that) and focus once more.

the camera flashes one final time, and the photographer calls it a wrap. as the crew began to clear the set, hanni quickly stepped away, her cool facade returning as she busied herself with adjusting her outfit, avoiding your gaze. your heart sank a little at her sudden distance.

you stood there for a second, watching her, a growing pit of uncertainty forming in your stomach. it wasn’t the first time this had happened. hanni had a way of pulling back whenever you got too close, a way of putting space between you that made you second-guess everything. you were touchy with everyone—that was just who you were—but with hanni, it was different. she made you happier, made your heart feel full in a way that was hard to describe. she was so adorable, so easy to be around, and sometimes you couldn’t help but think of being close to her all the time.

but now, watching her act distant again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset. was it something you did? were you pushing too far? but she's completely fine with dani dragging her around, haerin randomly leaning against her, and even she initiates the phsyical contact with minji. not to mention hyein, who's always clinging onto everyone — but that's hyein, she's like a younger sister to you all.

your thoughts spiraled as you bit your lip, trying to shake off the gnawing feeling.

hanni finally glanced your way, catching your gaze for a split second before quickly looking away, her face unreadable. you frowned, taking a step toward her. “hanni… are we good?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the hint of worry bled through.

she hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “yeah, of course. why wouldn’t we be?”

“i don’t know. it just—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “sometimes, it feels like you’re… distant. like you’re pulling away. was the shoot too much? was i too much?"

hanni blinked, her expression softening just slightly, but she still didn’t meet your eyes. “no, no— and i’m not pulling away,” she said quietly, but the uncertainty in her voice didn’t do much to reassure you.

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to believe her. you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “okay. if you say so.”

the air between you felt thick, tense, and it was hard to shake the disappointment that clung to you as you watched her pack up her things. you wanted to be close to her, wanted to feel that warmth again, but right now, it felt like she was slipping through your fingers.

this left you spiraling even more, trying to figure out what went wrong. hanni walks over to watch the others, letting danielle cling onto her and not visibly getting nervous or anything like that. was it you? it had to be.

—

soobin was like the big brother you never had, and you were forever grateful for that accidental meeting while you were a trainee and he was a rookie—when he’d spilled his coffee all over you. it had been embarrassing then, but now? it was the reason you had biweekly catch-up sessions—usually over facetime, since no one in the industry liked to see a girl group member breathing the same air as a boy group member.

but today was different. today, the two of you were in one of the company lounge areas, sharing snacks from the convenience store and sipping on the flavored milk soobin had brought. he watched you quietly, eyes filled with concern as you sank into your chair, picking at your fruit gummies without much enthusiasm.

“have things been rough? are they pushing you too hard?” he asked, his voice soft.

you shook your head, your lips pressing into a thin line. “i think my coworker hates me.”

“as in… a member?”

“yeah.” you sighed, popping an orange gummy into your mouth and chewing it slowly.

“may i pry?” soobin asks, stealing a gummy from your pack.

you nodded. “yeah, go ahead.”

“who is it?” he questions, chewing his stolen gummy.

“hanni.”

soobin froze mid-chew, his brows furrowing. “wait, hanni? but— the internet’s always talking about you two. i mean, i know you can’t trust everything online, but i’ve seen it too. you guys seem close.”

“yeah, well, i think she hates it. all the physical stuff, everything i do…” you trailed off, sinking deeper into your seat. “am i terrible?”

the hood of your sweatshirt slipped over your head as you slouched, messing up your hair. soobin couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, tilting his head as he looked at you. “you’re not terrible, y/n,” he assured you, his voice steady. “maybe she’s just—”

“i think i’m in love with her.” you blurted out, groaning as you covered your face with your hands. “i’m in love with her, i think. no, fuck that, i know.”

soobin stared at you, wide-eyed. “you what?”

“i’m in love with her,” you mumbled again, sinking even lower into your seat, hands covering your face. “god, i realized it last night while i was sulking in bed at midnight. and now, everything makes sense. i want to be close to her all the time because i want something more. and i feel like a creep because—am i weird? am i… am i a predator for being so touchy with her? what if she hates me for it?”

he watched as your expression shifted from miserable to horrified, your body practically sliding off the chair now. his deep voice cut through your spiral, calm and steady as ever. “you’re not a predator. trust me. the fact that you’re aware of how your actions might affect her shows that. you’re self-aware, and you care enough to try and make things better.”

“but… this could ruin everything.” your voice was small, defeated.

“it won’t,” soobin says firmly. “i know you.”

“do you know her?”

he shrugged, smiling softly. “i don’t need to know hanni as well as i know you. you always get things done, y/n. you always work it out. remember when we had those dating rumors? you handled that pretty well.”

you groaned at the memory, but it did lift your spirits just a bit. the whole two-week ‘scandal’ had been absurd. someone had noticed that you and soobin both had the same roblox sticker on your phone cases in your selcas, posted just two days apart. it blew up online, spiraling into dating rumors that, frankly, neither of you could believe.

the whole thing was based on a sticker. a roblox sticker. beomgyu had given soobin the sticker, and soobin, thinking it was dumb and funny, gave you one too. somehow, the internet made it a conspiracy.

you had to lie, saying you barely knew soobin, and that you found the sticker on the floor of the hybe building, thinking it was funny. it was the only way to get the fans to calm down. soobin had to pretend he barely knew you as well, but the two of you had giggled over facetime because of it—which was great for your mental state while you noticed the forced hate towards you.

“ugh, that was so weird,” you mutter. “if only they knew we’re—”

“completely off the radar,” soobin finished for you, chuckling. “like some future lavender marriage if the media doesn’t get off our asses.”

you snorted at that, “gross,” but your smile quickly faded as the weight of your current situation settled in again.

he shrugged, his smile gentle. “i don’t need to know hanni as well as i know you to be sure of this. you’re the kind of person who works through things. you always have, and you always will. you’ve told me how close you two were during your trainee days—there’s no way she’d want to throw that all away. besides, isn’t it better to have her in your life, even if you’re in love with her, than to lose her altogether?”

for someone so stupid, he’s equally as wise.

you bite your lip, a sense of helplessness settling in your chest. “i don’t know,” you say, voice soft. “sometimes, i just want to pull away, distance myself so i don’t screw it all up, but… but then i’m around her, and she’s just so... so hanni. she’s adorable and funny and makes me feel so warm inside. and then i'm close to her, and it’s like this weird feeling that makes me want more, but… i don’t want to scare her off. i don’t want her to think i’m weird.”

you could feel tears of frustration prickling at the corners of your eyes, your hands trembling as you spoke. admitting your feelings out loud made them feel so much more real, and that terrified you.

soobin leaned over, placing a hand on your shoulder, his deep voice a steadying force amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

“you’re not weird,” he repeated gently. “you just care. and that’s a good thing. but you need to trust yourself, y/n. you’re good at this—at reading people, at figuring things out. if hanni ever felt concerningly uncomfortable, you’d notice. just... be careful. take your time. you’ll figure it out. i know you will.”

you stared down at your hands, twisting the edge of your hoodie in your fingers. the weight of your confession hung heavily between you and soobin, but there was also a strange sense of relief in having said it out loud—like you had finally let go of something you’d been holding onto for far too long.

“yeah,” you said softly, nodding. “i guess so.”

—

two days after spilling your alleged unrequited love to your wonderful, amazing, stupid, and very gay bestfriend you had gotten dating rumors with—you're sent to a prada show.

being one of the faces for the brand meant being sent to fashion weeks, shows, and various other schedules that had you showing off the designer brand. and each time this happened, you went viral, because prada never fails to impress, especially when it's you.

you’re set for a photoshoot, this time for the cover of vogue. the weight of it feels significant, but not overwhelming. you’re wearing a prada crop top that shows off your toned abdomen, the result of months of dedication and hard work. the black blazer and slacks, perfectly tailored, give you an oversized yet effortlessly chic look, striking that balance between casual and captivating. everything fits like a glove, intentional but laid-back.

you admire yourself in the mirror, your eyes tracing the sharp angles of your makeup. the subtle eyeshadow that makes a statement, the clean lines, the way it accentuates your features—you can’t help but praise the makeup artist, murmuring compliments as you run a hand through your messy, artfully tousled hair. it’s wild but controlled, you snap a picture quickly for your fans.

when it’s time, you step onto the set, the bold red backdrop making you stand out even more. the lights hit just right, casting shadows that emphasize your figure, and for a moment, as you strike the first pose, you think to yourself: wow, this is for the girls.

after shooting is done, you monitor your pictures and are caught off guard from how great they look. you weren't that confident about oyu rvisuals back then, singing and dancing you could od well, but visuals got to your head. you've learned to love yourself more the more your members and the internet praised you, but mostly because hanni used to compliment you a lot even with your bare face, you wish she still did it.

"woah," you say, snapping pictures of the monitoring screen to post to bubble later.

...

hanni is sitting at the dinner table, a snack in hand as she absentmindedly scrolls through her phone. the dorm is quiet, most of the members tucked away in their rooms, and hyein isn’t around tonight since she's with her family. it’s been a long day, but she finds some comfort in texting her sister, filling the silence with their usual banter. she's distracted enough that she almost doesn’t notice the notification from the official newjeans account.

her thumb hesitates before clicking on it, already assuming it’s something from your vogue shoot. everyone knew you were out for the day, busy with your big shoot, so it seemed natural. but what she didn’t expect was how stunning you’d look.

the first picture stops her cold. you’re lounging on some plush couch, leaning back with that casual confidence she’s only ever seen in person—half smirk, half knowing gaze. hanni’s heart stumbles in her chest. you look beyond good. you’re breathtaking. the makeup, perfectly done but not too much, the messy hair that somehow looks effortlessly styled—it’s too much. she gulps without even realizing, eyes locked on the screen as she stares for longer than she cares to admit.

thirty seconds go by, maybe more, before she hesitantly swipes to the next slide. each new picture draws her in further, and it’s not getting any easier to look away. you’re a vision in every shot, and her chest tightens with each one. she knows she’s been trying to distance herself, trying to get her feelings under control, but how is she supposed to do that when just seeing you on her screen makes her lose her cool like this?

“you’ve been staring at that for a while, haven’t you?” danielle’s voice cuts through her thoughts, light and teasing. hanni jumps in her seat, turning to see danielle settling in next to her. she leans over, her eyes landing on the picture of you still displayed on hanni’s phone. “she looks pretty.” danielle adds.

“um, yeah,” hanni mutters, hurriedly swiping out of instagram, but the heat in her cheeks is unmistakable. she sets her phone down as if that’ll somehow help her case.

danielle smirks, raising an eyebrow as she gives her a sidelong glance. “you seemed to like that post, huh?”

“i was just… zoning out,” hanni tries, but the uncertainty in her voice betrays her. it sounds unconvincing even to her own ears.

“seemed like more than that to me.” danielle’s voice is light, playful, but there’s a glint in her eye that says she knows exactly what’s going on.

hanni lets out a forced laugh, trying to brush it off. “what are you even saying?”

“i’m saying,” danielle starts, leaning in just a bit closer, “that it’s quite odd of you to stare so hard at her. not just at her on the cover of vogue, but in general.”

hanni swallows hard, trying to play it cool, but the flutter in her chest tells her otherwise. danielle’s right, and the worst part is, she can’t even deny it.

danielle’s eyes linger on hanni, clearly not buying her act. hanni feels the pressure building, but she stays silent, forcing a simple shrug as if nothing’s wrong. she knows danielle is waiting for her to crack, but she’s not ready to let everything spill. not yet.

"so…" danielle starts, her voice teasing but gentle, “you’re really gonna act like that wasn’t you staring at y/n’s photos for, what, five minutes?”

hanni scoffs, though it sounds forced. “it wasn’t five minutes, and i wasn’t staring like that.”

danielle crosses her arms, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “right. sure you weren’t. you only jumped like i caught you doing something illegal.”

“i was just… scrolling,” hanni mutters, turning her attention back to her phone, trying to seem unbothered. she swipes through random apps, but danielle’s quiet presence next to her makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

“scrolling, huh? that’s what you’re going with?”

“yep.”

“uh-huh. so if i ask again why you were so focused on y/n, you’re gonna say… what?”

hanni huffs, leaning back in her chair. “danielle, it’s not a big deal. i just zoned out, okay? she’s my friend. we work together. seeing her on my feed isn’t weird.” her tone is defensive, too defensive for her liking.

danielle raises her eyebrow, unrelenting. “zoning out on the same picture for thirty seconds? then the next one? and the one after that? you sure it’s nothing?”

hanni’s lips press into a thin line, irritation bubbling up, though it’s more with herself than with danielle. why is this so hard? why can’t she just brush it off? but danielle is looking at her with that piercing, curious gaze, and hanni knows she’s not letting it go. plus, it's danielle.

“you’re imagining things,” hanni tries, though her voice wavers.

“am i?” danielle leans forward slightly, her tone is soft but persistent. “because i know what i saw. and this isn’t the first time you’ve been weird about y/n.”

hanni blinks, her guard starting to slip. “what do you mean ‘weird’?”

“you’ve been acting strange around her for a while now,” danielle points out. “you avoid her, then get all flustered when she’s near. and now you’re sitting here, staring at her photos like you’re in a trance. come on, hanni. something’s up.”

hanni clenches her jaw, trying to hold onto the last bits of defense she has. “it’s… it’s not like that. she’s just—”

“just what?” danielle cuts in, her voice more patient than accusing. “you can tell me. whatever it is, i’m not judging.”

hanni sighs, her resolve beginning to crumble under danielle’s persistent questions. she opens her mouth, but no words come out, her mind racing to come up with some kind of excuse, something that’ll make danielle drop it. but there’s nothing, and hanni knows it.

danielle’s watching her closely now, not pushing too hard but clearly waiting for hanni to finally let it out. “hanni, it’s okay. i’m not gonna force you to talk if you don’t want to. but i’m just saying, i’m here if you need to get something off your chest.”

hanni bites her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. she can feel the words bubbling up, the truth she’s been trying so hard to suppress. but how can she admit it? how can she explain that being near you makes her feel like her heart is about to burst, that every touch and smile from you sends her into a spiral? she's beyond fucked.

“danielle, it’s not… it’s not what you think,” hanni starts, but even she knows how weak it sounds. she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting away from danielle’s.

danielle lets out a soft sigh, her tone turning gentle. “hanni, it’s okay to feel something for her. you don’t have to keep it all inside.”

“i don’t—” hanni stops herself, the words catching in her throat. “it’s not… ugh, i don’t even know how to explain it.”

danielle stays quiet, waiting for her to continue.

hanni rubs her face, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “i don’t… i don’t know what to do. she’s just—she’s everywhere, danielle. i can’t even breathe when she’s around. she’s always so close, always so touchy, and it’s driving me insane. i can’t handle it.”

danielle’s expression softens further, nodding slowly as if to encourage her to keep going.

“and it’s not like i don’t like her or anything,” hanni continues, her voice wavering. “that’s the problem. i like her too much. and i don’t know how to deal with it, so i’ve been pushing her away. and now she probably thinks i’m a complete jerk, but… i don’t know what else to do.”

danielle raises her eyebrows. “you’ve been pushing her away because you like her?”

hanni groans, slumping down in her seat. “yeah. because every time she's close to me i feel like i’m gonna explode. she’s so—ugh. she makes me feel things, and i hate it. i don’t know how to be around her without freaking out.”

“so you’re in love with her,” danielle says simply, no judgment in her tone.

hanni freezes, her heart skipping a beat at the words. in love. she opens her mouth to protest, but the truth is already sitting heavy in her chest. she exhales shakily, realizing there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“yeah,” hanni mutters, almost too quietly for danielle to hear. “i think i am.”

danielle leans back, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “well, that’s a start. at least now you’ve admitted it.”

hanni buries her face in her hands again, feeling the weight of the confession settle over her. “what am i supposed to do? i’ve been acting so weird around her, and she probably thinks i hate her now.”

danielle shakes her head. “hanni, i don’t think y/n could ever think that. if anything, she’s probably wondering why you’re avoiding her. you should talk to her.”

hanni groans again. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way? what if i ruin everything?”

“you won’t,” danielle says confidently. “you’re both close. i don’t think y/n would throw away your friendship over this. but you’ll never know how she feels if you don’t talk to her.”

hanni knows danielle is right, but the thought of confronting her feelings—and you—feels terrifying.

"and if it makes you feel better..." danielle continues, "i don't think the chances of her not returning the feelings are high. she cares for you a lot and she's not nearly as touchy or close with any of us—just you han."

"oh."

hanni bites her lip, fighting every worry in her head. as she does so, the root of her crisis returns home.

both her and danielle look up to see you sighing as you close the door, waving at them tiredly as you walk towards where your room is. danielle tilts her head, looking at you closely: your shoulders are sinking a bit, your hair is messier than before, and you look exhausted.

"how was everything?" danielle asks you, ignoring hanni beside her who's trying to recover from her feelings taking over. "your makeup is still intact."

"i fear." you say tiredly, rubbing your eyes. "it was cool, but they made me do a lot of promo and interviews. it's over now at least."

you glance at hanni, who's failing to meet your gaze.

"well," you start, "i'm going to go wash up and pass out. night guys."

"night!" danielle beams, smiling.

you look at hanni, waiting for a response. she finally looks you in the eye, then seemingly scans your face and hesitating before she also says, "night y/n, rest up okay?"

"yeah, of course han." you smile softly, waving to them once more before disappearing into the hallway.

danielle looks at hanni immediately after you're out of their sight, and speaks as soon as she hears the door close.

hanni just groans, hiding her face in her hands as she mumbles, "she looks too good i can't possibly--"

"don't be like that." danielle scolds, "it'll be fine."

hanni can barely look at you these days, the fact that she has to face you while knowing everything she feels is real and inescapable—hanni might be on her deathbed soon.

—

the room is warm, sunlight streaming through the thin curtains and casting a soft glow over the space. your blanket is tangled around you, your loose pajamas wrinkled as you lay sprawled across your bed. hanni stands quietly in the doorway, staring at your still form with a soft sigh. she knows she should wake you up; you've overslept, and the rest of the members have already started their day. but as she stands there, watching the rise and fall of your chest, something holds her back.

your hair’s a mess, sticking up in all directions, and you’re wearing that loose t-shirt she gave you months ago. it’s oversized, slipping off your shoulder, and the sight of you like this—so comfortable, so unguarded—makes her heart skip a beat. there’s something about how peaceful you look that makes hanni want to crawl into bed with you, to be close, but she knows she shouldn’t.

she swallows, shaking off the thought, reminding herself why she’s here. she’s supposed to wake you up, not… whatever it is her mind keeps drifting to. taking a deep breath, she walks closer and kneels by the edge of your bed.

"y/n," she whispers, poking your cheek gently. "you’re gonna be late if you don’t get up."

you don’t move, still lost in whatever dream you’re having and turning away. hanni shifts awkwardly, not sure what to do. she leans down and lightly pokes your cheek again. "come on, y/n, wake up."

nothing.

with a tiny huff, she pokes you again, this time a bit harder. "seriously, you can’t just sleep all day. you’re going to be late!" she whisper-yells. 

you still don’t stir, and hanni finds herself smiling despite her frustration. you look so... soft like this. relaxed. carefree. she’s really tempted to lay down beside you now, more than before. she wants to pull the blanket over herself and close her eyes, pretending for just a moment that things are the way they used to be—before all this weirdness between you two. she could pretend there’s nothing on the schedule, she quite literally has free will, she could do it and nothing would stop her. 

but she can’t. she knows she can’t.

instead, she pokes your cheek one more time. "y/n," she whispers, leaning closer. "please get up."

without warning, you move, but instead of waking up, you grab hanni’s wrist and pull her closer, dragging her halfway onto your bed. she yelps, startled, but you don’t seem to notice. you just snuggle into her, wrapping your arm around her waist as if she’s your pillow, your face pressed against her stomach.

hanni freezes, her heart pounding in her chest. you’re still half-asleep, clearly not realizing what you’re doing, but that doesn’t stop the warmth from rushing to her cheeks. she feels like she’s on fire, caught between wanting to escape and wanting to stay right where she is. your warmth, your scent, the way your body feels against hers—it’s overwhelming.

"hanni?" you mumble groggily, eyes still closed. "what are you… doing?"

"uh," hanni stammers, trying to keep her voice steady. "you need to get up. you’re gonna be late."

but you don’t move, just hum in response, your hand moves to loosely hold hers. hanni swallows hard, her whole body tense as she tries to ignore the warmth of your skin, the soft feel of your fingers intertwined with hers.

this is too much.

"hanni?" you mumble again, voice thick with sleep, your hand instinctively pulling her a little closer. "just five more minutes."

hanni can barely breathe, her mind scrambling for some kind of excuse to get out of this without completely losing it. she manages to slip out of your hold, her heart pounding as she sits on the edge of your bed, trying to compose herself. "you need to get up now, y/n," she says, a little firmer this time.

you finally stir, blinking up at her with bleary eyes, confused by the sight of hanni sitting at the edge of your bed. "hanni? what are you… what are you doing here?"

she shifts awkwardly, trying to keep her tone casual. "you were sleeping in, and i came to wake you up. the others are already in the dining room."

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as you look at her. something feels off between you two, a tension that wasn’t there before, something bigger than before. you can feel it too, even in your groggy state. the silence hangs heavy in the air, the unspoken distance between you making everything feel… strange.

"hey," you mumble, running a hand through your messy hair, "we, uh… haven’t really talked much lately, have we?"

hanni glances down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "yeah," she mutters, her voice soft. "i guess we’ve both been kind of... distant."

you nod, still trying to shake off the sleep. "i don’t know why it’s been like that," you say, your voice quiet. "feels like something changed, and i don’t really get it. i’ve been wanting to talk to you, to be honest.”

hanni’s heart tightens at your words. she knows why she’s been distant—because you make her nervous, because she’s terrified of her feelings, because she doesn’t know how to act around you anymore. but she can’t say all that. not now. not like this.

"i’m sorry," hanni finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "i didn’t mean to pull away. i just… i didn’t know how to handle things."

you look at her, a faint frown creasing your forehead. "handle what?"

hanni shrugs, avoiding your gaze. "just… everything. i guess i got overwhelmed, and instead of talking to you about it, i kind of shut you out. i didn’t mean to."

you’re quiet for a moment, processing her words. it doesn’t really make sense, but it’s something. "i thought you were mad at me," you admit softly. "i didn’t know what i did wrong."

hanni’s heart aches at that. "you didn’t do anything wrong," she says quickly, shaking her head. "it’s not you, y/n. it’s me. i’m sorry for making you feel that way."

the two of you sit in silence for a while, the tension slowly easing as you both realize how much you’ve missed each other. there’s still so much left unsaid, so many things neither of you are ready to admit yet, but this… this is a start.

"i missed you," you finally say, your voice quiet but sincere.

hanni looks up, her heart swelling at your words. "i missed you too."

the weight of the past few weeks lingers in the air, but for the first time in a while, it feels like things might be okay again. even if neither of you is ready to fully address the feelings you’re both clearly harboring, at least you’re talking. at least you’re trying.

and for now, that’s enough.

—

hanni and danielle sit side by side on the couch in the waiting room, both scrolling through their phones. it’s a quiet break, the kind they savor between the chaotic schedules, but their attention keeps drifting to where you’re seated, getting your makeup done. you’re chatting softly on the phone, smiling as you talk to your parents, completely at ease in the chair.

hanni, however, can’t seem to focus on anything else. her eyes flicker over to you every few seconds, as if drawn by some invisible force. she watches how you laugh quietly, the way the stylist’s brush glides over your face, how you seem so naturally pretty even in this hectic setting. her mind is still spinning from your recent talk, even though it was brief. it lingers with all the things unsaid, all the questions still hanging in the air.

next to her, danielle finally breaks the silence.

"so," she starts, her voice casual but curious, "did you and y/n talk?"

hanni’s fingers freeze mid-scroll, and she glances at danielle, unsure of how to answer. after a moment, she sighs. "yeah, we talked… sort of."

danielle raises an eyebrow. "sort of?"

hanni shifts in her seat, picking at the edge of her sleeve. "we addressed the distance. like, we apologized for being weird with each other, but… i don’t really know where to go from there. it’s like, we acknowledged it, but it didn’t fix everything. i still feel…" she trails off, struggling to find the right words. "i don’t know. confused, maybe?"

danielle watches her closely, nodding slowly in understanding. "well, that’s a start, right? at least you talked about it."

"yeah," hanni mutters, but there’s a tinge of uncertainty in her voice. she glances back at you, still on the phone, still pulling her attention without even trying. "but it doesn’t really feel settled, you know? like, we just put a band-aid over it."

danielle sighs softly, leaning back against the couch. "stuff like that is complicated," she says, almost as if she’s speaking from experience. then, after a moment of silence, she turns to hanni with a teasing smile. "by the way, you’ve been staring at y/n this entire time. i can’t believe she doesn’t know that you… you know,"

hanni’s face flushes, and she quickly looks away, crossing her arms defensively. "i was not."

danielle laughs, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh, sure. i’ve been watching you. every time she moves, your eyes follow. it’s like you’re in a drama, and she’s the lead you can’t get over."

"i’m just… i’m just making sure she’s okay," hanni tries to defend herself, though the heat rising in her cheeks betrays her. "she’s on the phone with her parents. what if something’s wrong?"

"oh, please," danielle says, her smirk growing. "you’re just using that as an excuse to admire her. you’ve been acting like this for weeks, hanni. just admit it. remember her prada post?"

hanni opens her mouth to argue, but the words die in her throat. she knows danielle’s right, and that makes it worse. instead of responding, she just sinks further into the couch, burying her face in her hands.

danielle pats her on the back with a chuckle. "don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. for now."

hanni groans, peeking through her fingers at you again. you’re still deep in conversation, oblivious to the way she’s been spiraling.

"you’ve got it bad," danielle teases softly, her tone more understanding now. "but it’s okay. maybe just… give it time. you two are good together, even if you don’t know where to go from here yet."

hanni nods, grateful for danielle’s support, but her eyes drift back to you. she can’t help it—there’s something about you that keeps pulling her in, no matter how hard she tries to resist.

—

it’s late, and the dorm is quiet. hanni sits on her bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen. she’s been thinking about you all week (she’s always thinking about you), the tension that had built between you two finally dissipating after your brief talk. things have felt… fine, normal even, but it’s almost too normal. like the distance you both addressed had just been covered up with another flimsy bandaid, never fully resolved. 

the problem is, she can’t stop thinking about you. and danielle, who’s oddly observant, keeps urging her to clear the air.

"just talk to her," danielle had said earlier, as they watched you laugh with the others during practice. "y/n wouldn’t let this mess up your friendship, you know that."

and now, as hanni sits there, her fingers hover over her phone screen, wondering if she should actually text you. she taps out a simple message before she can second guess herself:

hanni: you up?

the reply comes almost instantly: 

y/n: yeah, what's up?

hanni: can’t sleep

y/n: aw me neither i was calling my mom earlier and after that i couldn’t close my eyes for more than a minute

hanni: :-(  sorry to hear

hanni doesn’t know what else to say, but you beat her to the chase.

y/n: come over?

her heart races for no reason, and before she knows it, she’s standing in front of your room. she hesitates for a moment, then knocks softly before opening the door.

you’re sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. you’re worried that you scared her off again after being left on read. thankfully there’s a knock at your door a minute later, and when you see her, you offer a small smile. "hey."

"h-hey," hanni says, feeling a little awkward as she steps inside and sits on the edge of your bed. there’s a brief silence, the kind where you can both feel the unsaid words hanging in the air. she picks at her fingernails, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. you’re still in your pajamas, hair a little messy, looking so comfortable that it’s hard to look away.

after a beat, you exhale, breaking the tension. "fuck this," you mutter, shifting to lay down on the bed, patting the space next to you. "come on."

hanni blinks, then, after a moment’s hesitation, lies down beside you. the bed feels small with both of you so close, but she’s trying to act normal, like her heart isn’t doing backflips just from being near you. you both stare up at the ceiling for a moment before you start talking, and to hanni’s relief, it feels natural.

you talk about everything—the group, your recent worries about the new routines, the photoshoots you’ve got lined up, how excited you are about the new choreography. hanni listens, nodding along, occasionally chiming in about her own thoughts. it feels comfortable, almost like it used to be, like there’s nothing between you but shared conversation.

"i’m really liking the new choreo," you say, turning your head slightly to look at her. "it’s intense, but it’s fun, right?"

hanni nods, her voice soft. "yeah, i love it. i think it’s one of our best routines."

there’s a pause, the kind that feels more like a breath than an interruption. she glances at you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter. like maybe this is enough—just talking, just being close like this.

"you’ve been doing great, by the way," you add quietly, eyes meeting hers, and suddenly both of you are all too hyperaware of how close and physical this is. "i know things have been weird, but i’m glad we’re good."

hanni swallows, her throat feeling tight as she stares at you. for a moment, she considers saying more, opening up about everything she’s been feeling. about how she’s been avoiding you because being close makes her too nervous, how danielle’s been pushing her to be honest, how she’s been daydreaming about you too much for her own good; she considers dropping the fact that she’s in love with you. but instead, she just gives you a small, appreciative smile.

"yeah," she whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "i’m glad too."

maybe it’s because it’s late and you’re too tired to keep pretending, sick of shrinking into some shell. maybe it’s because hanni is right there, looking like a dream, even more than that. maybe you’re young, stupid, and undeniably in love with her. the tension has been building all night, and before you can stop yourself, the words leave your lips, making your chest feel impossibly tight.

“i need to be honest with you,” you murmur, picking at your fingers beneath the blanket. “and you can pull away and leave after i say it.”

hanni frowns, sitting up slightly. “what?”

you swallow hard, the weight of your confession heavy in your throat. you sit up and put your face in your hands. “hanni, i like you. i like you the way people do in love songs. i like you like people yearn for each other in half the songs on your playlist. i don’t know any other way to say it, i’m—i’m sorry.”

there’s a beat of silence, a long, agonizing pause where you feel your heart shrinking into itself. hanni stares at you, her brows twitching, mouth slightly open, and all you can do is pray that this isn’t the moment everything falls apart.

“are you serious?”

you flinch. “i’m sorry—”

“no, no.” hanni shakes her head, turning away to stare up at the ceiling, hands covering her face. "i need a minute."

your heart shatters, the weight of rejection sinking deep. “hanni, i’m so sor—”

“don’t be.” she lifts her hands just enough to show her forehead, a wide smile breaking across her face. "oh my god. i like you too. i’ve been trying to tell you, i didn’t know how. danielle has been telling me to confess for weeks, but i was so scared."

your breath catches. "wait—seriously?"

hanni nods, still grinning, and suddenly everything shifts. the tension that had been suffocating you both breaks, leaving the air light and giddy. you both can’t look at each other for a moment, the sheer happiness boiling up inside making you fidget, trying to contain the laughter threatening to spill out. it’s a nice contrast from the (what seemed like) years of pining.

your hearts are pounding, faces flushed, and the awkward energy between you only makes it all the more real. now you’re both sitting next to each other like two middle schoolers in love—something like that—giddy, flustered, and shocked.

hanni glances at you through her lashes, then covers her face again, laughing softly. “i can’t believe this.”

“i can’t believe it either,” you admit, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

for a second, neither of you move. then, on a whim, you reach out and take her hand, the touch sending a rush of warmth through your body. hanni turns to you, her eyes meeting yours with that same mix of nervous excitement. it feels like time slows down, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. and before either of you can talk yourselves out of it, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss.

the world stops for a moment.

when you pull back, both of you are breathless, grinning like losers.

"oh my god," hanni says, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper. “was that too quick? did we rush it?”

you laugh softly. "probably. but i think i would like, die if we hadn’t… yeah.”

without saying anything else, you both lay back down, facing each other on the bed, your fingers still intertwined. it feels easy now, like a weight has lifted, and the giddiness that lingers makes it impossible to stop smiling.

eventually, the talking fades, and you both drift off, tangled together, feeling a sense of peace that neither of you had realized you were missing.

everything feels right for the first time in weeks---hanni in your arms, your arms wrapped around hanni, being close to hanni, hanni close to you---and there's nothing that makes you happier in the moment.

[nolovelingers]

hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking

——————————————————————————

 SFW !!

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.

there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.

so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.

he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.

the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.

at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.

if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.

you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.

even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.

he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.

he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.

he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.

obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?

tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.

as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.

his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.

id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.

this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.

it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.

and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.

if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.

if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.

there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.

langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.

and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.

jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.

to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.

tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”

tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)

the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.

he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.

he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.

overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.

recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.

tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.

if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.

of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.

as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.

his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.

he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.

NSFW !!

tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.

he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.

(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.

(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.

(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.

he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.

when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.

he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.

but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 3

wc: 1565, Masterpost

Danny wanted to pace. He wanted to work out the energy and anger burning under his skin by moving. But he couldn’t— he wouldn’t. Red Hood still had a grip on his sleeve and Danny wouldn’t take that grounding point from the other, not when it seemed to help the man so much. Not when Danny knew how bad the separation from one’s haunt hurt.

The touch was also grounding him, Danny could admit that much. He knew that his powers were getting away from him. He knew they were seeping in that way that they did these days, bleeding out and warping pieces of the reality around him. It was more than he wanted to show the Justice League, but he couldn’t keep it all inside. He was spiraling.

Danny took a deep breath and tried to focus.

“It’s alright, Red Hood. You don’t need to stand guard in front of me. They won’t hurt me,” Danny said. At least he hoped they wouldn’t try.

“You are a threat to them.”

Danny shook his head. He could be, of course, but he wouldn’t be. “I’m not.”

Red Hood turned his head, just slightly. Even without seeing the other’s eyes, Danny felt he was being watched. “You didn’t do things their way. That means you’re a threat. They eliminate threats.”

Danny bristled. Not at being called a threat, but because of the picture that painted about Red Hood’s captivity.

“Perhaps we should all have a seat,” Wonder Woman suggested as she took a seat sat the table herself.

Everyone else hesitated a moment, but Danny nudged Red Hood towards a seat and took one across the table from the heroes himself. He held back a sigh as Red Hood chose to stand behind him instead, one gloved hand rested on Danny’s shoulder. It was an improvement, at least.

Batman took the seat to the right of Wonder Woman, and Superman the right of him. They clearly framed the man. John very clearly put himself in the middle of the two groups— both literally and figuratively. Uneven odds, but Danny had faced worse.

“I need the whole story, Constantine,” Danny said, not waiting for one of the others to take charge. His hands were gripped white knuckled together where they rested on the table. He couldn’t keep the thread of anger out of his tone, but he reigned it in as best as possible. “Because from my point of view, I walked in on you all torturing Red Hood in a way that could very well kill him.”

“We don’t kill,” Superman said, puffing up with his pointed words.

Danny stared at him for a long moment before he glanced up at Red Hood. “Is that the way of theirs you went against? The one that made you a threat?”

The hand on his shoulder tightened subtly.

“He’s a murderer,” Superman said, leaning forward as if imparting something important. “He beheaded people to make a point.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, crinkling his brows up purposefully in confusion. “Did I ask you anything?”

While Superman looked like he’d sucked on a lemon, Danny turned to Constantine. He knew the shadows were growing around him, lengthening, and he let them this time. “I need the whole story. Now, John.”

John glanced from Danny to the others, cigarette turning restlessly in his fingers. Whatever he saw in the big three, it was enough and he slumped heavily back into is seat. The sigh he heaved was full bodied and he just looked weary suddenly. “Justice League asked me to check something out in Gotham. Which is…”

Danny nodded and motioned for him to go on. Gotham was a cursed city of pretty notorious reputation in the magical community. In general, people of any real power stayed away unless they were up to something very dark. The only ways to operate in Gotham as a proper magic user was to be supported by Gotham’s curses or be supported by Gotham herself, and her favor was rare to earn.

“So I recruited the vigilante known as Red Hood. Not… exactly the one behind you,” John said, motioning with his cigarette. “And by recruited I mean badgered him until I promised to play errand boy for a few things.”

“…and yet you claim you didn’t know he’s a protector spirit?” Danny asked sharply, the words almost hissing with his rage.

“Pomp,” John leaned forward, spreading his hands over the table top. The cigarette barely stayed between his fingers. “I swear to you, in full weight, that I didn’t. Other Red Hood was alive. He reeked of death, but all the Bats do. You do. I went to him since he uses magic, abet dubiously, and is…” John shot a glance at Batman before grimacing. He continued anyways. “He’s a sodding Son of Gotham, alright? His presence at my side let me work in the city.”

Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth. Well fuck.

“How angry is Gotham?”

John shrugged. “That’s… complicated, Pomp. Let me finish the damn story?”

Double fuck. Danny leaned back in his chair and tried to unclench his hands.

“So we go and find the problem,” John continued. “Which of course…”

“Cult.”

“Cult. What else in Gotham, right mate? We fight, Red Hood comes in handy, but then the head fucker shows some serious skills— or paid for some serious skills at least. They go on this rant about undoing what made one what they are today, motioning with this staff. I can only think that it was meant to get rid of how I got my powers, but Red Hood shoves me out of the way and takes the blast to the chest instead. There’s a cloud of magic because the whole cult is showy bastards and when it clears, there’s this Red Hood standing there and also his civilian ID, or at least a version of him. Looks a might bit smaller, mind you.”

“Okay, sure, right,” Danny said. He could feel the headache coming on. “So we’ve got the vigilante and then… who he would have been if he’d never been a vigilante?”

Danny swore Batman shifted at that.

Batman never shifted.

Danny was about to call him out when Wonder Woman cleared her throat and leaned forward. She rested a deceptively delicate hand on Batman’s arm. “No, before he was Red Hood, he was a Robin.”

“What it changed,” Red Hood explained, voice rough even for the modulation, “Is if we died. I still did. I feel it. I’m the Robin that died.”

Even Batman didn’t manage to hide his flinch at that.

Triple fuck.

-----

AN: Surprisingly, Danny hasn't gone off yet! And we're starting to get more answers! Kinda? Somewhat. Now I wonder what that other version is doing...

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the Masterpost instead to be notified!

[bianquitasworld]

could you do one where dave and reader are watching movies and being all cuddly pretty please?

Rest and Shakespeare

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

A/N: I need this man, sorry for not writing as much I’ve been caught up with studies and work. Sorry I kinda forgot to add the movie part I was so tired when I wrote this. 😥

The day had been a relentless struggle, from the demanding classes at school to the never-ending tasks at work. A grueling exam had left my mind in tatters, the pounding headache and the stress of deadlines had drained every ounce of energy from me. But all I could think about as I made my way towards Dave’s house was the comforting warmth waiting for me in Dave’s arms, being in his presence alone always helped melt all my worries away.

The cold air made a shiver run down my spine, I hug myself to find warmth. I couldn’t help but walk faster as I made my way towards his home, minutes away from being in Dave’s arms and in the comfort of his bedroom while he read some random comic to me that I knew nothing about, the way his eyes would light up when he got excited flipping through the colorful pages, I smile at the thought alone, the way he always held me as I slept, I felt the stress leaving my body already just picturing it.

I sighed in relief as I reached Dave’s home. I barely knocked, I saw the white curtains from his room move around as if someone was just standing there moments ago. I heard hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs. The door was pulled open immediately. Dave greeted me with a wide smile, his cheeks flushed with excitement. His glasses sat slightly askew on the tip of his nose, and he pushed them up with his index finger, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

His clears his throat before speaking and leans against the front door.

“S-Sorry I made you wait for so long, I was doing homework?” His statement sounded more like a question as if he couldn’t think of anything to say. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Your homework consists of you watching me through your window?” I tease him, you notice his cheeks turning bright red. I couldn’t decide if it was from the cold air being let in to his house due to the open door or the embarrassment. I shiver from the cold air. “it’s freezing-“ I could hardly finish my sentence before he’s reaching for my hand, pulling me into his home, and shutting his door. I slip off my winter boots.

“My dad isn’t home, we can watch a movie-or or whatever-psh I mean movies are lame-unless you want to watch one then we can-“ Dave’s nervous rambling is a little funny, even if we’ve been together for a while he’s still always nervous and second guessing every word that comes out of his mouth. Especially when he’s around ‘the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes upon’.

“Dave we can do whatever you want as long as I get to spend time with you i’m happy.” I say softly, tiredness kicking in. truthfully, I just wanted to curl into a cave and hibernate till the next year.

A blush returns to his face and his eyes light up in excitement. “We can go read some-some comics if you’re cool with that because if you aren’t that’s like totally cool.” I hear Dave gulp as he stares at me, his eyes falling upon me.

“Sure, that’s ‘like totally cool’ with me Dave” I say mocking him, if it’s possible his face becomes two shades redder. “Okay-okay no need to get rude” He rolls his eyes. I hurriedly make my way upstairs with Dave’s heavy footsteps following behind, after entering his room I take off the thick winter coat I had on, I can’t help but jump on his bed and crawl under his sheets making a mess of his bed, no care in the world for manners.

Dave plops down beside me with a comic in his hand, he sits up and pulls me against his chest as I wrap my arms around him and throw my leg over his torso.

“You tired baby?” Dave’s voice is soft and caring as he notices the lack of noise coming from his partner. “Exhausted, too many responsibilities and deadlines..” a sigh follows, I feel Dave’s hand slowly caress my head soothingly, he puts his comic on his night stand and lays down fully, allowing himself to be the little spoon. “You’re too pretty to be stressed, allow me to help you relax my princess.” Dave says in a British accent “You’re such a nerd babe, i’m taking those comics and weird movies away from you.”

All that can he heard is an overly dramatic gasp, what a drama queen. “Thou shall not-MHm” I shh him by placing my hand over his mouth. “shh..sleep.”

Dave gives in and smiles against my hand, he slowly pushes it down and mutters “fine, fine, whatever..I was just trying to romance you.”

“Romance me? By talking like Shakespeare?”

“Some people find it charming-“

“Name one person-“

“Okay you know what go to sleep, shhh-“

“No, who finds that cha-”

“Shhhhh you’ve fallen into a deep sleep shhh-“

“Dave I swear-“

“Oh can’t hear you, you’re not talking because you’re in a deep deep slumber-“

“Slumber?? Who even says that?”

“I thought you were tired!?”

“I am!”

“then stop talking”

“You keep talking to me! You know what good night.”

[samuelsdean]

I Don't Mind If It's You

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

genre: fluff

word count: 1081

author's notes: i missed spencer's long hair so i decided to write a self-indulging fic about playing with his hair.

SPENCER HAS ALWAYS FOREGONE STYLING HIS HAIR IN THE MORNINGS. He always thought as long as he could just flick the strands of hair behind his ear, he was good to go. And besides, he had a hair tie with him. He could just simply tie it back—no more pesky hair in his line of sight.

He has always foregone styling his hair in the mornings until he met you. While he was big on practicality & “Hairstyling is a waste of time”!” You were the exact opposite. 

It’s quite a funny thing to think about. Spencer, a certified germaphobe, was uncaring about how his hair looked, whether it was kept well today or it looked like a bird’s nest the next. And then, there’s you. You’re not a germaphobe though you pride yourself as a chic woman. Not a law enforcement job could stop you from looking like you came straight out of a magazine.

You always found the time to make sure your hair looked pretty and presentable before heading to work. In your free time—quite rare for FBI agents—you liked to read magazines for trendy new styles to try or watch videos online for tutorials.

And today was definitely your lucky day. No case. Everyone is off for the holidays.

Unfortunately, that’s where your luck ended.

You got injured during your last case. Your arm is in a cast, unable to move it around like you wanted it to. Fortunately, your hand was still good & thankfully, uninjured, unlike the rest of your arm. So, although you were free to lounge around your home, you couldn’t try that one hairstyle you found in one of those Cosmopolitan articles.

Until a genius idea came to you like a light bulb turning on.

“Hey, Spence?”

You asked your boyfriend, who was busy skimming through what seemed like his third or fourth book of the day.

He’s so cute when he’s all focused like this, you thought. 

He hummed in response, still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pages.

“I have a favor to ask you.”

This made Spencer look up from what he was reading, staring at you questioningly. You were the type of person who never asked for help or favors—unless needed. You often disagreed with him because he would prefer it if you told him whatever problem you had. Although he was a genius and could help with you, he knew lending an ear to someone was already a big help. 

"You know I can't move my arm around, right?" You asked him, to which he nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, is it itchy?” He asked, about to go off on one of his notable tangents. “It takes around six to eight weeks for broken bones in casts to heal. Also, around that time, the injured area starts to itch.”

You nodded fondly at the man, not minding a little bit that he went off-topic. You love listening to his mini-lectures—not only do you learn something new, but you’d also hear the soft tone of his voice. One thing about Spencer is he had a pretty voice. You could listen to him talk for hours.

“There are five main reasons why your casts itch—nerves, trapped moisture, immune response, dead skin cells, and body hair.” Spencer continued tattling. “Nerves cause itchiness because the nerve endings in the skin may fire as the cast begins to harden and dry, sending itch-inducing signals to the brain. As for the itchiness being an immune response, it ensues when the body perceives the plaster of Paris or fiberglass as an outside invader. Histamines may be released. Itching, redness, and swelling can be brought on by released histamine.” 

With his excitement to share facts about how broken bones heal, you couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky but adorable your boyfriend was, which made him scrunch his nose.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You are, but I don’t mind. I like it.”

At this, Spencer’s ears started turning pink, making you chuckle some more. He scratched the back of his neck in shyness as you took it as a clue to tell him what you needed from him.

“My arm isn’t itchy, babe,” you began, “What I need from you is your hair.”

“My what?” 

“Your hair.” 

It was your turn to get shy. You knew Spencer wasn’t a big fan of having his hair messed with. It’s not that he hates it. He just doesn’t like messing with it that much—minus the occasional flicking behind his ear and simply tying it back when it gets irritating.

“I—um,” you explained further, trying to fight against the embarrassment you were feeling. This was your boyfriend you’re talking to!  “I saw this cute new hairstyle online and I wanted to try it but you know, with the broken arm and all…” You trailed off.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You chuckled humorlessly, beyond embarrassed at this point.

This was such a bad idea. Why did you even bring it up? You were about to start berating yourself, ready to hop onto the next train and create a new identity for yourself, when you noticed Spencer shuffling towards you, sitting on the floor between your legs.

“You want me to style your hair?” You asked incredulously, still can’t believe Spencer would let you play with his hair.

“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world 

Like it was an everyday thing for anyone—you—to do his hair.

“I don’t mind my hair being played with if it’s you.”

At that, you blushed as you started combing through his soft curls with your fingers. Spencer merely smiled softly at the gesture and closed his eyes.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly.

“Yeah?” You asked back as you started braiding his hair. “What is it, Spence?”

“I love you.” He muttered. “I may not like it when people touch my hair out of nowhere. But if it’s you, I don’t mind having you do it for the rest of my life.”

You gasped at his sudden confession and were about to say those three words back when you felt it.

Spencer planted a kiss on your injured arm and pulled your other one down, so he could be face-to-face with you. And before you knew it, his lips brushed against yours, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

Maybe styling Spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

[danikamariewrites]

Balance

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: I reread @thehighladywrites professor Eris series and it inspired this lil mob Az blurb. Ruhn week day 1 post will be out later today, love you guys 💕

Warnings: guns, cold medicine

Cracking your eyes open, the sting of dryness made you blink rapidly. The coolness of the bed and room made your runny nose worse along with your cough. Your chest constricted, that dry cough ripping at your throat.

You reached for Azriel, desperate to absorb his warmth to stop your shivering. Touching the cold sheets on his side of the massive bed your hand shakes.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes you see the digital clock on Az’s nightstand blares two in the morning in red numbers. Letting out a groan you pull the covers tight around your shoulders. You swear he was here when you fell asleep, maybe it was a fever dream? You were still fending off a one hundred degree fever so it’s entirely possible.

Azriel was probably working, like he always was. It never bothered you unless you truly needed him like right now. There was only one thing to do now. Make your boyfriend feel guilty by wearing your cutest tired pout and wrapping yourself in a fluff blanket.

Doing exactly that (wearing your extra fluffy slippers for good measure) you head downstairs to Az’s office.

You heard arguing through the cracked door, making you second guess your decision to interrupt Azriel’s work. But, you already walked all the way down here, so there was no turning back now.

Padding over to the door you peek through the opening to assess what you were about to interrupt. Azriel was fully dressed with Rhysand and Cassian flanking him, along with a few other ‘employees’. They all faced someone you couldn’t see. A man, clearly begging for his life, vehemently insisting he did not have the information Azriel was seeking.

You should leave. This isn’t something Azriel would want you near.

But he was right there. And you were desperate for him to comfort you.

The interrogation continued as you stayed hidden behind the oak double doors, your thoughts still warring on whether to stay or leave. As one of Azriel’s men hands him his gun, your body makes the decision for you, of all things a sneeze gives you away. A small squeak coming from you as you try to hold it in. Everyone in the office freezes, shocked by the little noise. Azriel shoves the gun into Cassian’s chest, making his way to doors, his demeanor completely changing into the loving, caring Azriel you know. Pulling the door open lightly you stare up innocently at your boyfriend. Azriel’s concerned face staring back at you, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Were you sick again?” His tone was soft and worried. You step to move into him but Azriel forces you back a little, confirming that he didn’t want you to see whatever was unfolding in his office.

You shake your head, “No, I just woke up cold and needed you.” Azriel lets out a sympathetic hum, pressing his lips to your forehead. You felt his frown at your still too warm temperature and your trembling shoulders under his arms.

Turning to his men Azriel orders them to finish working. Scooping you into his arms, Az makes sure to angle you to not see inside. Mother above, if must be gruesome in there.

On the way back to your bedroom Azriel whispers calming words to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, my love. I thought the medicine would keep you asleep. We’ll get you some more before you go back to sleep.” He punctuates each sentence with a soft kiss to your temple.

Placing you on the bed with all the care in the world, Azriel slips the blanket from your shoulders, draping it over the end of the bed. Getting another pill from the bathroom he places it on your tongue, holding a glass of water to your lips as you take small sips.

Taking his suit off for the second time that night, leaving him in a pair of black boxers, Azriel climbs into bed pulling you close to his chest. You immediately feel relaxed. Your arms feel heavy as you wrap them around Azriel’s shoulder, sleep creeping back into your body thanks to the meds. “Thank you Azzy, love you s’much.” You babble.

“I love you more, sweetheart. Rest now, I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” His focus is fully on you now. His work downstairs is long forgotten.

[xfgpng]

𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 —

— : [ nsfw ] fwb, mutual pining, pet names, unprotected sex, implied infidelity, eren is whipped, fingering

— wc : 1.6k

a/n : none of my mutuals will believe me now if i say i still don’t like eren 🧍🏻‍♀️

your friends frown anytime they see his black srt parked outside your house. he has tinted windows but they don’t need to see inside to know who he is. that car has been parking outside your house for at least 2 weeks now and judging from the way your neighbours stare over the fence, they know exactly who or what he is.

while you both came from good homes, eren had a lot of issues with his parents and he found himself moving out at 18 with no actual plans for his future. he had wanted to attend college like this older brother did but when the older of the yeager siblings moved out, eren was left alone and he was over his parents, specifically his father, trying to run his life.

they threatened to cut him off but he had enough money saved up and eventually, got into business with his best friend, jean, from high school. you and jean were in the same major and that’s how you met eren at one of their house parties.

you were his type. the shy and reserved kind, or at least that’s what he thought until he had you bouncing on his cock that same night, long acrylic nails digging into his shoulders so hard it left indents for a few days that stung whenever he showered. he still shivered thinking about how you often liked to scratch him up.

he was a bit of a pervert but he kept the ring and middle finger nails that had snapped off in his wallet. the baby blue nails made him think of you more than he’d like to admit.

you weren’t like the other rich kids he’d fuck around with. you didn’t care what he did or the way he dressed. you loved his long hair, it was nice to grip and pull whenever he was eating you out and the whole “i’m too cool for you” vibe he had going was a turn on.

“your parents aren’t home again?” he asks, watching you move around the house with ease. you’re wearing nothing but a loose sweater and panties, the same panties eren had bought for you when he ripped your pair the night you met.

“hm” you hum, getting a can of beer for him and a glass of wine for yourself. he was so carefree around you and he hated to admit that he was falling for you fast.

“i saw your old man the other day” he grins, “you know he buys weed from jean?”

that causes you to laugh. you loved your parents but your mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes so it was no surprise that your dad needed some form of a stress reliever. you were glad he wasn’t chelating.

“you break up with your boyfriend yet?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looks down at your bare legs. he enjoyed having them wrapped around his waist but he could admire you from afar too. he couldn’t get enough of you even if the man tried.

“why, you want me to be all yours?” you tease, half expecting him to laugh it off or roll his eyes like he does whenever you two get a little too serious. you liked him enough that you could settle for whatever this was.

the bonus was free weed so you weren’t necessarily one to complain. at least he made you laugh.

“maybe” he grins, raising a brow at your shocked face. you weren’t the only one who could tease.

“we broke up last week” you shrug, “i couldn’t cum without faking it”

“what, can’t cum unless i’m the one fucking you?” eren chuckles. he wasn’t about to admit that he could only get off if he was thinking about you and if he happened to be fucking another girl, he’d have her on all fours so he wouldn’t have to look at her face. pussy these days seemed mediocre when he thought about it. he was content with whatever you had going on, even if he denied it whenever jean asked.

“you like when i stroke your ego” you scoff, taking a sip of your wine. you didn’t need him to know the effects he had on you or your body.

“i like when you’re stroking something else” he smirks, moving around the kitchen island to stand right behind you. you press your ass into his crotch and shake your hips teasingly.

“i especially like when you let me fuck you raw and cum inside you” he adds, trailing his fingers up your bare thigh. he kisses the side of your neck and inhales a little. you always smelled so fucking good that he thought about buying your perfume and keeping it stashed in his bedroom. “you ever let him finish inside you ma?”

“no” you gasp, biting your lip as his fingers dance across the hem of your sweater, “he’s never even fucked me raw”

“wow” he grins, “so you really let me hit it without a condom on the first night too?”

“yeah” you moan for him as he slips his middle finger into your pussy. you’re already wet and he’s only teasing you. it was obvious he had an effect on you and by the bulge in his grey sweatpants, you definitely had the same effect on him.

“want me to fuck you now hm?” eren whispers, right into your ear which causes goosebumps to rise all over your body, “want my cum spilling out and making a mess all over your kitchen floor?”

you can’t even think straight when he adds his index finger beside the other. he’s so skilled with his fingers and usually you’d enjoy some four play, you enjoyed sucking his cock as you played with his balls but you had all night.

maybe forever if he kept things up like this. you don’t think you could ever be with anyone else ever again and he knew that too.

“dirty little girl” he grins, biting your earlobe as his free hand pulls his leaking cock out. he strokes himself once, twice before he can’t wait anymore. he doesn’t bother pulling your panties down, choosing to rip it off you, the poor flimsy material tearing easily.

“eren” you pout, “i liked those” they were from him after all but you wouldn’t say that.

“i know baby, ‘m sorry” he groans as he slips inside you, not sorry at all. “i’ll get you new ones okay?”

you nod, gripping the counter as he sets a brutal pace immediately. you didn’t even care that your windows were wide open or the fact that your curtains weren’t closed and your nosy neighbours would definitely see if they looked which they always did whenever he came over.

“fuck baby, you’re always so wet for me” he moans, whimpers a little and that’s enough to have you clenching around his fat cock. you loved that he was so vocal, not shy to let you know just how good you made him feel. he really was the best at fucking you.

the best you’ve ever had.

he lifts your leg up, pushing you forward so your chest is squished against the counter and fucks into you harder and faster. your moans echo throughout the kitchen and your eyes cross. he fucks you like it’s been years when it’s been 2 days.

2 long days. it took everything in him not to show up and fuck you in his car. he hated when he got busy, it was less time between your thighs and he would rather spend his free time with you.

he moans at that, startling the both of you. he hasn’t realised just how much he was starting to like you. he wanted to be around you even without the intense fucking.

he liked you. a lot

“do you remember that pretty dress you wore that night?” he asks, slowing down as he gripped your waist.

“huh?” your frown, brows furrowing as you try to catch your breath. you were so close to reaching your high, your body was buzzing with the need to release but he was always persistent. “‘ren” you whine. you can’t even think properly, why was he asking that right now?

“come on ma, i’ll give you what you need in a moment, answer me” he chuckles, rubbing soft circles into your waist to help you calm down.

“i do” you say after a moment, “the green one”

how could you forget it? jean had joked about how it matched eren’s eyes perfectly and later that night, eren had you biting the hem of the dress as he bounced you on his dick, eyes trained on where his cock was disappearing in and out of you.

“what about it?” you turn to look over your shoulder at him. it still surprised you just how good looking he was. it should be a crime to be that hot.

“can you put it on for me again?” he smirks

“right now?” you pout

“no baby, later” he smiles, “i want to take you out”

you can’t help the smile so you turn away from him, hiding your face in your arm that’s perched on the counter.

“is that a yes?” he teases, touching the place where you’re stretched out on his cock. you moan as your legs shake, trying to fuck yourself. he licks his lips and you moan for him, nodding your head.

“good girl” he slaps your ass hard and then grips it tightly, holding onto your waist as he fucks you harder. he won’t stop until you’re creaming his cock and begging him to let you take a break.

[kvrokasaa]

Please, Don't Leave Me

Karasu x reader

cw: Gn!pronouns but afab!reader, reader has female genitalia, implied cunnilingus, and sex, suggestive themes at the end, angst-ish, fluff, kinda forced plot ngl, Karasu's accent might be off, not proofread, Otoya being respectful to a woman 😨, Isagi and Bachira are mentioned once.

2.5k words

Today felt off. Well, more specifically, the past week has felt off. You don’t know if you’re the only one feeling this way. But it’s like the shift in your relationship has turned.

Every time you try and get attention from your boyfriend, he waves you off. Literally. He waves his hand, acting as if you’re a fly pestering him.

You don’t know what started this behavior. Just two weeks ago you both were fine. Visiting your family and having a nice time. You know it wasn’t anything your family said, they don’t pry into your relationships. But you can’t seem to figure it out for the life of you.

Just last night when you came over to his place, you tried to ask if he wanted to watch a movie with you. It was movie night, every week you both dedicate a night to watching movies, whatever happens, happens. But Karasu simply shrugged and said, “ ’s late and I have early practice tomorrow.”

Karasu never shrugs off movie night.

As to get some clarification for why this is happening, you decide to show up at his practice. And it wasn’t early morning, which made you even more confused.

So much questions and so little answers.

As you make your way to the field, they stopped playing for minute to catch their breaths and drink some water, you pass by a few of his teammates. They all give you confused glances.

You’ve never once showed up to his practices. Only to his games. It’s not because you didn’t want to, he just never asked and you didn’t want to intrude.

You carry a little bag in your hand. He forgot his lunch and, being a good s/o, you decided to bring it with you.

“Hey baby,” the words come out as you rest your head on his back. “You forgot your lunch, here.”

You hand him the bag. It’s already past noon, but you’re guessing he didn’t have anything to eat unless his friends offered some of their food.

He only grunted in response and took the bag from your hand, rather forcefully too. “Thanks.” His response was curt.

He made his way to the benches and set the bag down.

“Why have you been ignoring me,” you’re not sure ignoring was the right word, but it was among the similarities of the traits he’s been showing you this past week. “I’m not ignoring ya.” His voice was laced with malice. You don’t know why, but your body reacted before your brain as it flinched a little.

His words, even the mean ones, never seemed to startle you. But after the agonizing thoughts every night, which caused less and less sleep, you couldn’t think straight. Which resulted in your body moving before you could think to stop it.

If he was concerned or remorseful about his attitude, he didn’t show it. His face was hardened and still, as if it was sculpted.

“It doesn’t feel like that. You’ve been putting me off all week. Not even a good morning text. What’s…” Your voice died off as you saw him turn around and glare at you. He’s acting like you broke one of his million dollar vases, which he does own unironically.

“Is that what ya want? A ‘good morning’ text, a ‘how was your day?’ text? I’m working my ass off all day to provide for me and you and yer complaining that I don’t show enough love? Just be grateful for once in our fucking relationship.”

You wanted to bite back, to tell him that you work too. Sure your job doesn’t pay as well as his does, but he also has the inheritance from his family to back him up. You don’t. You get up every morning and work, you don’t complain either. Sure, what you’re doing now can be classified as complaining, but you rarely ever open your mouth to complain. And you are grateful, you don’t know how many times you’ve been grateful in your relationship with him. It’s not a chore for you, but he’s acting like you’ve never said, ‘thank you,’ to him once.

But you bite your tongue when he opens his mouth again. “I don’t think ya understand, Y/n. I play soccer for me; this is the only chance I get to be away from you. But now you show up and have to ruin everything. Get it through yer thick skull, I don’t want you around unless it’s necessary.”

Your eyes widen at his last sentence. Did he think you were a chore to be around? Did he only want you around when he felt it was convenient? Did he ever think of you as his s/o?

You aren’t one to cry in public places, sometimes you even hold back your tears in your own bedroom. You don’t like the feeling of tears sliding down your cheeks. You hate the feeling of pain and failure. You’ve never even cried in front of your own boyfriend and you have been together for six months now.

But you can’t stop the tear from falling down your cheek and onto the grassy field. You manage to stop the next one, and the one after that. You sniffle and nod your head. You have nothing left to say to him, if he wants space, then you’ll give him space. This is just him setting his boundaries, right?

Right.

“Okay.” You don’t know how, but you manage to hold your head up and keep your tears at bay, along with your voice neutral. “If you really feel that way, then I’ll leave.”

There were many implications behind your words. You could mean the relationship or just the field where you stand in now. You honestly don’t know which one of them you meant. But you let your legs take you away from his one happy place.

He chose his career over you, and you’re fine with that. But you being fine with that doesn’t mean you will settle into this little routine.

You’ll dip your feet into the water, see how much of an impact his words leave in your relationship. If you don’t like the ripples in the water, then you’ll just leave.

He hears scoffs and snorts from his team as he snaps back to reality. “What the fuck dude? All they did was ask you a simple question.” Isagi chimes in. “Yeah man. You did not need to blow up that like.”

Otoya looks over at Isagi and nods his head, “I’m going with Isagi on this one.”

Karasu scoffs. “Shut it, fuckboy. You-” “Don’t tell me what to do moron. You made them fucking cry.”

He made you cry? You’ve never cried before, at least not in front of him. Was he so lost in thought that he didn’t even see your tears? Did his words hurt you that much?

“You gotta fix this before it’s too late~.” Bachira voiced Karasu's thoughts.

...

Your house seems bare and lonely without the smile on your face, or the warm touches from him. Your plants seem to reflect your emotions, droopy and sad.

You make your way to your bedroom, ready to sulk in bed for the rest of the day. Thanks to it being a weekend, you have the day off. Which means you could sulk for as long as you want.

You pull the weighted blanket onto your body and sigh contentedly at the comfort. This is the only comfort you need right now, a stupid rom-com, some junk food, and a good amount of weight.

Your phone goes off before you can delve into the movie too much. You sigh, already knowing who it’s from. You picked it up and just as you guessed, Karasu.

He had a written a whole paragraph about how sorry he is and that he would be glad to make it up to you. You opted to just text him back with:

It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it haha, it’s late so I’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight!

You already know that he’s going to think something’s up. Let him, he deserves the cold shoulder, an insidious voice sang in the back of your mind. As much as you want to brush the voice away, you know that it’s true. He does deserve the cold shoulder. You’ve been nothing but good to him and he treats you like this?

You let your thoughts run wild and finally determine that you'll respect his words for a bit. If he wants you to leave him alone, you'll leave him alone. You won't go to his practices and games or make him his lunches anymore.

A few hours passed by as you dwelled in your bed. You should probably text some of your friends and ask for a night out. But honestly, you just wanted to stay in and eat all the junk you can.

You've watched at least three rom-com movies; some made you laugh and some made you cry. You want to say that you mainly cringed, but what you mainly did was wish Karasu could act like some of the male leads.

Yeah, he remembers your favorite food and gets you as many things as you want. But you wish he would put away his pride and apologize.

Before you knew it, your eyes drifted off while your mind rambled about Karasu.

...

The smell of pancakes and eggs woke you from your slumber. You yawned and stretched your muscles as you made your way out of bed. You weren't too shocked to see Karasu in your kitchen with the 'kiss the cook' apron you gifted him as a joke on his birthday.

When you two had an argument, he would always cook you food, buy you things, and spend the entire day with you. But those things are meaningless after the argument you had the other day.

But you still let him try.

He smiles when he sees your sleepy face. But his smile turned into a pout when he saw your runny mascara and puffy/red eyes. He did that. He made you cry. Karasu walks up to you and brings you into his arms.

"I'm sorry pretty baby," he kissed your forehead. "I don't deserve you."

You snort at that; there's something you both can agree on. He smiles when he hears your snort. Step one: make you laugh: check.

You both sit at the table and eat the delicious food he made. Contrary to popular opinion, Karasu is actually a good cook. The food was gone in minutes.

"I have a game tomorrow," he says as he chews the last bite on his plate. "I can reserve a front-row seat for you, like always."

You give him a kind smile; you want to say no but his puppy eyes are too tempting. "Okay." Your response was curt, you didn't mean anything by it. But Karasu took it as you giving the same attitude he gave you yesterday. He pouted and grabbed your hand, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. "I wanna hear ya cheering f'me, okay?" You nodded your head and he smiled at that, bringing your hand up and kissing it. "That's my pretty baby."

You two spent the whole day talking and shopping. You got the things you needed and wanted, and even more things that Karasu thought would look good on you.

The gifts made you smile, but they held most of the weight behind your fake smile. You didn't want to speak out that you didn't need these meaningless things, you just wanted him to hug you and tell you that he loves you. You know that you just have to speak up about these things, but you don't want to start another argument.

Your tongue was bit through the entire day and night with him.

...

You woke up a bit later than intended, but the sleep was welcomed and needed. You felt like the pain and memories of the past few days have been erased.

You felt like you were forgetting something. You yawned and turned on your phone, then it hit you.

Karasu's soccer game. It's 1:30 in the afternoon, you're sure the game is already halfway through. And it's a thirty-minute drive to the stadium. Which means when you get there, it'll be almost over. So, there's no point in going. So you opted to just grab something to eat and turn on Netflix. Yeah, you feel bad, but honestly, Karasu deserves this. Maybe he'll remember not to catch an attitude with you for no reason.

Karasu on the other hand, is distraught. He doesn't remember how many times he's looked over at the stands.

He thought that you were over the other day. He apologized and made it up to you. He took you shopping and to your favorite restaurant.

His mind was elsewhere and he couldn't get into the flow of the game. His kicks weren't on point and his precision was flawed. The coach called him in and swapped for another player.

"Get your shit together or leave."

Karasu took the latter; he needs to see you.

The drive was long originally, but his thoughts made it longer. Every second he wasn't with you, he felt that it was another second you could up and leave his life.

He finally got there and quickly unlocked your door with the spare key. No boxes, nothing packed, nothing is gone. Air came back into his lungs, and he could finally breathe again.

He rushed to your room, his pout getting deeper as he saw you on your bed watching Netflix.

Your eyes widened as he rushed into your room. You swear this man will give you cardiac arrest one of these days. "What..What are you doing here?" Your eyes followed him as he stalked to your side of the bed where you were lying. "Your game, it hasn't even ended yet." He grabbed your hands before he answered, bringing them up to his cheeks.

"Baby, I'm sorry for being a dickhead, but doncha think it's rude to not come when I asked ya to?" He almost whined out. You pouted as you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs, "I'm sorry," you cooed out. "My handsome boy, I didn't mean to."

He shook his head, "No, don't apologize baby. I shouldn't have yelled at ya. Forgive me, yeah? Just please, don't leave me." He pouted, "I don't think I can go any longer without yer kisses and hugs." He doesn't remember when he got so romantic and cheesy. He used to laugh at people who were obsessed with their s/o and used to call them mediocre. But now here he is, so fucking obsessed with you. He feels like he can't breathe when you don't give him your love. He lives off it.

"I love ya so much, my pretty baby." He brought one of your hands to his lips, peppering kisses all of it as he looked into your eyes. "Ya don't gotta say it back, jus want ya to know."

And you did know, especially through his actions. The way he kisses you, the way he dotes on you, and the way he went down on you for hours. No amount of whines and pleads for him to stop, no amount of " 's too much," were enough to stop him. His tongue and his groans against you made you feel both pain and pleasure. Karasu loves you so much and proved that while he fucked you all night.

a/n: His accent, his smile, him <3333 Karasu is just ahbsdjsdhsdje. I'm acting up for this man

[storm-angel989]

Papi! I need you! (Valentino x Daughter)

I pushed open the doors of my fathers studio. It has been weeks since I had actually had a full on conversation with my father. His work kept him busy, and to a point I understood it. But both Uncle Vox and Auntie Vel ran their own companies too and they still made it home for dinner each night. Now both of them were  busy, and I needed his help. 

Well, even moreso, I needed my dad. 

My father was on his feet as soon as he heard my voice.

“What are you doing here, niñita?” He asked as he stepped in front of me, effectively blocking the view of whatever was going on onstage. “I’ve told you time and time again I don’t want you in here.”

“I need your help with my math homework. You said I couldn’t watch TV until it was done and I’m stuck.” I said, crossing my arms as defiantly as I could while fighting the urge to run to him and wrap him in a hug. “Papi, please.”

He sighed and guided me back towards the elevator. “Isn’t that an issue Uncle Vox or Aunt Vel can handle?” He asked as he guided me back towards the elevator. “Ninita, I need you to stay out of my studio.” 

“Then Papi, I need your help with my homework.” I said firmly. “And they’re busy.”

He sighed. “Fine, mi amore.” He ensured I was safely into the elevator before he turned his back to me and hollered orders at the demons in his studio. 

He stood in front of me, his arms crossed as the door closed behind us muffling the sound of the scattering of his employees. As soon as the door closed, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. His expression softened instantly as he returned my affection, planting a kiss on my forehead before releasing me. 

“How was your day, Daddy?” I asked as I stepped out into our home. “I missed you.”

“Busy, muñeca,” he replied, “Very, very busy.”

I could feel my face fall. “I’m sorry, Papito. I can keep trying on my own, I’m sorry I bothered you. I know your works important and I know you’re really busy.” 

“I’m never too busy for you, my princessa,” he replied quickly. “I’m glad you cam and got me. Tell me, what exactly are we working on?”

“Algebra. They keep asking me to find x and I’m not a relationship expert, but maybe they should let x go.” I replied with a grin. 

If he understood my joke, he wasn’t amused by it. 

I took a seat at my pink work desk and looked down again at my math book. I had finished every problem except one. I had attempted it three times, just like Uncle Vox made me, and watched a video and I still could’ve got the problem to check. I yanked my hair in frustration as my father looked over my shoulder. I felt his hand wrap around my wrist and his other gently untangle my fingers. 

“This is a terrible habit, bebita. You’ll ruin your beautiful hair.” He pulled one of the pink chairs over next to me. “Show me what’s troubling you.”

I showed him the problem and he studied my attempts, and then looked at the book. 

“Ah. Mi amore. Try moving 3x over to the left, rather than 4 to the right. See if that fixes the issue.”

I did as he suggested and he waited patiently as I reworked the numbers. To my delight, it checked. 

“Thanks, Papi!” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his office. Strawberries, maybe. And something spicy. “Best Dad ever.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, ninita,” he said as he returned my hug. “Is that all you needed?”

I held him tight in response and rested my head on his shoulder. “Unless you want to let me read my English essay to you?’

I saw the hesitation in his eyes. I felt my heart sink- he probably did have to get back to work. I shouldn’t have interrupted him to begin with, really.  After all, he was so very busy. But to my surprise he kissed my forehead. 

“Of course mi amore, I would love to hear it.” He took a seat on my bed. “Present away, carnino.”

I felt my heart swell as I grabbed my paper. As soon as I finished, he clapped his hands. 

“Beautifully written, muñeca”

I flung myself back around him and practically toppled him in the bed. “I missed you, Daddy.” I said as I clung to him. “I want you to put me to bed tonight. Not Uncle Vox or Auntie Vel.” 

His grip tightened as he sat us both up. “ I suppose I have been a bit too busy with work, mi amore.” He tucked my head under his chin. “How about a daddy daughter night? We can go out to dinner and watch a movie when we come back?”

I liked the sound of that very much.

[theanimeroom]

DREAMING ABOUT…

SFW

💎 bf!baji who wakes you up with a rough “g’mornin princess” right before placing the softest kiss on your forehead

💎 bf!baji who initially tried to kiss you on the lips and only rolled his eyes when you complained about “morning breath”, whatever that is

💎 bf!baji who takes twice as long as you in the shower, yet is still somehow ready before you are.

💎 bf!baji who to your surprise, actually knows his way around a kitchen. the first time he ever made you breakfast your eyes followed him in amazement as he made the best omelette you’ve ever tasted

💎 bf!baji who definitely got into a fight trying to protect you. he couldn’t stand watching you shift in place uncomfortably because the dude in front of you couldn’t take a fucking hint, so he did what he had to do

💎 bf!baji who also apologized to you when you were finally alone, because he would never want to scare you :(

💎 bf!baji who despite his serious and gruff demeanor, is actually quite clumsy and just a little bit dumb 👌🏽

💎 bf!baji who will also ask you “hey babe, have you seen my glasses?” while staring at you through the prescribed lenses 👓

💎 bf!baji who nearly suffocates you at the front door while leaving for work because although he does love his animals at the store, he’d much rather stay home and hover behind you all day 🫶🏽

💎 bf!baji who sends you cute texts at work when there’s no customers because he’s bored :(

come visit me i miss you >:(

bby i’m in class

…and?

💎 bf!baji who adores you in his clothes. when you first started dating, he found it a bit annoying that his favorite shirts and hoodies would go missing, but when he finally saw you wearing one of his old band t-shirts while cleaning? he was putty in your hands

💎 bf!baji who comes home to find you in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts on the couch, and immediately crushed you with his body while smothering you with kisses

💎 bf!baji who pouts when you get out of bed at anytime because he’s tired but can’t seem to go to sleep unless his nose is buried in your hair and his arms have you trapped against him 🥺

💎 bf!baji who will do absolutely anything for you. it doesn’t matter the request, just tell him what to do and he’s got it. order out for dinner tonight? sure thing. you want to watch movies and lay on his chest? he’s at your beck and call. want him to jump off a cliff? just let him know how high bby 😌

NSFW BELOW THE CUT…

NSFW

💎 bf!baji who thinks you’re the prettiest when his cock is shoved down your throat, eyes wide and glassy as you struggle to take all of him. you gag reflexively when your nose bumps his pubic bone, and the sight only makes his jaw clench and dick throb

💎 bf!baji who actually laughs when you beg for him to slow down his thrusts, your words only inspiring him to move faster because why would he stop when you make such pretty noises?

💎 bf!baji who groans low and deep in your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine and between your legs. he’ll never tell you that he does it on purpose, just to feel the way your thighs tighten around him and pull him in closer

💎 bf!baji who definitely didn’t get a mirror installed above his bed so he could get a good view of you from all angles :)

💎 bf!baji who eats you out like a mad man. if your hands weren’t tied to the headboard then they were laced in his hair, yanking on bundle after bundle as you tried to simultaneously push him away and bring him closer

💎 bf!baji who openly admits to loving getting his hair pulled, and sends a shockwave of vibrations against your clit every time you tug a little harder than necessary

💎 bf!baji who partakes in the nastiest make out sessions. wherever you are, if he manages to get his lips on yours, expect his tongue to be exploring your mouth while you attempt to keep his straying hands at bay

💎 bf!baji who will spit in your mouth before pressing his tongue against yours again. you haven’t gotten the chance to breath in a while and once you finally manage to pull away, there’s a trail of saliva connecting your lips. like i said, n a s t y.

💎 bf!baji who is very much banned from PDA because you’re tired of scarring the old ladies that are shopping in the clothing aisle at walmart

💎 bf!baji who can say the most vile shit in bed. you knew the man wasn’t one for niceties, but you couldn’t stop your cunt from clenching around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the filth he spewed your way

“aww, what’s wrong baby? i thought you said you could take it?” “uh uh, don’t run from me. you asked for this, now take my cock like a good little cocksleeve.” “oh? did you like that baby? your cunt just squeezed around me so tight- fuck.”

💎 bf!baji who isn’t super vocal in bed, unless he’s close to coming. the most you could usually get out of him was a slightly strained grunt, which he did on purpose, but when you caught him on the right day, he would slur profanities into your ear, much to your happiness

“please baby, fuck.” “keep fucking me like that,” “you feel so fucking good wrapped around me…” “shit, just like that princess” “you’re gonna make me come.”

💎 bf!baji who wasn’t too keen on using toys in the bedroom, until he watched your legs shake for the umpteenth time as he held your vibrator against your overly sensitive clit. he wasn’t sure what exactly enthralled him the way it did, but he was willing to continue experimenting until he figured it out

💎 bf!baji who definitely fucked you in the back of his store while chifuyuu helped out a customer. the boy knew exactly what was happening the moment you two snuck into the storage area, his face turning beet red as he rung up a 10lb bag of dog food

💎bf!baji who is a bit of an exhibitionist, but let someone try and take a peek at you without his permission and watch how fast you lose the ability to use your eyes

💎 bf!baji who will choke you until you’re blue during one round, then hold your hand while moaning about how good you feel the next. there’s never a dull moment with this one

💎 bf!baji who makes you worried that the next time you look in the mirror after having sex, there will be a bald spot waiting to surprise you with how rough he pulls on the locks when giving you back shots

💎bf!baji who’s favorite position is doggy. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

💎 bf!baji who doesn’t stop until you’re sweaty, weak and begging for a few minutes to rest. luckily enough for you, those few minutes were all baji needed to slip into a deep slumber until the next morning when he’ll just wake up and start again :)

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Cut the Shit-Delusion, Sweetheart | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

summary: A young actress confesses her feelings to Cillian Murphy, this is how he responds.

warning: This is a much different story than I usually write but I think it's one that we all need in moments of pain and loneliness; to allow ourselves to feel sad and disappointment and hurt. We use people like Cillian to comfort ourselves and give ourselves reasons to be happy and sometimes we need moments to be sad. I was inspired by Fleabag (of course) and an AI edit I saw of Cillian where he turns someone down and its really sweet even though it breaks my heart lol. Age-diff, 1 noncon kiss, talk of infidelity.

word count: 1791+k

Blue Light- Mazzy Star 🎶

Don't interact if you're a Yvonne-hater, please and thanks <3

She hesitated before she knocked on the side-door of Cillian’s trailer. This desperate feeling overwhelmed her and she knew that she couldn’t sleep unless she went to him and confessed how she felt. She’d been plagued by dreams of them together, these beautiful, perfect dreams that poisoned her sleep like melatonin. She loved him and whether or not he felt the same way, she needed to tell him. She exhaled shakily as she dropped her arm back to her side. She was wearing her normal clothes, out of costume finally after a long day of shooting. She lost her sense of security behind the battlements of her gowns and numerous frilly things. She couldn’t hide her feelings behind her character anymore. 

The door opened and Cillian leaned against the doorframe in a casual greeting. 

“Don’t tell me we have a late night call time tonight, I’m fucking exhausted.” He smiled with his lopsided grin, his wide lips framing his teeth.

“No, but there is some business I need to attend to. May I come in?” She returned his smile and mirrored his posture. 

“Sure, come on.” He stepped aside and raised his arm in a welcoming gesture for her to pass through the door. She nodded in silent thanks and stood awkwardly in his trailer which was simple and quaint. Except for the unmade bed, the trailer was neat and orderly. 

“Oh fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep when I knocked?” She blushed and squeezed her palms together in an anxious gesture. 

“Nah, I was just reading the script for a movie my agent wants me to do next.” 

“Oh,” she nodded and turned her attention to the rack of costumes his character wore, ���is it any good?” 

“It's definitely interesting but I don’t think it’s t’e right film for me.” He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Cillian was wearing a plain t-shirt and pajama pants, and seeing the innocent-intimate side of his life made her want so desperately to kiss him. She sat on the small couch he had in the trailer and tried to smile. 

“That’s too bad. Is it anything I’d like?” She joked and he nodded seriously. 

“Actually, yeh. I’ll send it over once I’m through. I’ve been re-reading it.” He moved his hands through the air as he spoke, so unlike his characters. She almost laughed and he smiled. 

“So, what can I do for you? You said you had some business to attend to. Sounds serious. Should I be worried?” He raised his eyebrow and crossed his legs, his hands cupped around the edge of the mattress. She tried to speak and immediately failed. Frustrated and embarrassed tears filled her eyes and she hid them by looking up at the ceiling. Cillian furrowed his brow, concerned. 

“What’s wrong?” He leaned forward on the bed and she shook her head, laughing lightly at herself. 

“I feel so incredibly stupid now for coming here.” She looked away and the bed squeaked softly as Cillian stood and joined her on the couch. She scooted over to give him some room and picked at the skin on her hands. 

“You can always come to me. Whatever it is.” He said softly and the air around them stilled with anticipation.

“Oh don’t say that, Cillian. You’re so kind…” she started to cry and tried to hide her face. 

“Fuck, I hate tears, please don’t cry! Did somet’ing happen?” He raised his hands helplessly, holding them over her without being sure what to do with them. She nodded her head slowly and hiccuped pitifully. 

“You’ll have to forgive me for my comforting abilities. I’ve never been good on t’at front and I have boys so I’m better at comforting members of the male species.” He shrugged and smiled, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed despite herself and wiped her eyes. She stood and paced the front of the trailer, knowing that it was now or never. 

“Cillian, this is such a horrible way to end your nice evening but I can’t continue on set without getting this off my chest. I hope you’ll forgive me.” She dared herself to look at him and he met her eyes, holding her eye-contact with mature resolve. 

“Of course.” He nodded softly, wrinkling his forehead, now more concerned with what his costar was going to tell him. He was naive. He assumed she was going to tell him that she couldn’t work with him anymore or that something had happened in their scenes that had made her uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily on the couch, watching her. She tried to speak a few times but exhaled and shook her head. Cillian stood and met her where she was standing. He was a good few feet taller than her and so much older, but having him there beside her made the feelings she wanted to tell him about so much stronger. 

“Cillian, this isn’t easy to say,” she looked down at her hands and then up into his clear blue eyes. “I have feelings for you, more than our professional relationship can offer. Working with you on set all this time has… it’s made my feelings so much harder to ignore, Cillian.” 

He froze and remembered to breathe, drawing in a startled breath. 

“T’at wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.” He ran his hand over his mouth and looked away, his blue eyes moving through his hidden thoughts. 

“I know you probably don’t feel the same but I just… it’s driving me mad, Cillian. It’s becoming a form of method acting that isn’t fun anymore.” She tried to laugh lightly but grimaced and put the backs of her hands against her burning cheeks. 

“Yeh…” he nodded and sighed, his eyes wide. 

She groaned and returned to the couch, sitting on her sweaty hands. 

“I can go, Cillian. I can leave if you don’t want me here anymore.” She whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. 

“No, no. We need to talk t’rough this.” He said calmly, slowly, and covered his mouth with his freckled hand. 

“Oh God, I’ve gone and fucked everything up. I’m sorry Cillian. I knew you didn’t feel the same but I still let myself go to you.” She leaned back against the couch and pulled her hands through her hair and pulled the skin back from her face. 

“Stop it. Don’t say t'at.” Cillian snapped not unkindly but sternly and took a deep breath. “See, we need to talk about t’is so we can still work together, eh?” He ran a hand through his own dark hair and looked at her for a moment, thinking. 

“How, Cillian? If you knew how I felt about you… it’s maddening. I can’t sleep, Cillian. You’re all I think about as pathetic as it sounds,” she took a deep breath, “I love you. And now you’ll hate me.” She continued and moved her hands, clasped together between her knees.

Cillian sighed and moved abruptly to her side on the couch, opening his body towards her. 

“Don’t talk for me, eh? Look, I understand. It’s hard to not develop certain er… feelings when we do what we do, right?” He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips awkwardly.

“I know I’m childish, Cillian, but I can’t help it. I’m suffering without you… without more from you, more than we can do on set.” She whined and rubbed her shoulders as if she were cold. “Can you indulge me? Do you feel even a little of what I do?” She whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. He said nothing for a second before running his hands up and down his face, exhaling loudly into his palms. He put his hands down and leaned towards her on his elbows. 

“I’m married, sweetheart. Yvonne is my wife and I love her.” He whispered softly, his hands splitting the space between them. 

“But I love you.” She whispered back and leaned in to kiss him. He allowed her to kiss him once and when she pulled away, dejected, he took her chin gently. 

“Cut the shit-delusion, sweetheart. You’re young… far too young for me. You may t’ink you love me but you don’t know me.”

He took her face in his hands and smiled sadly as tears rolled down her pink cheeks. 

“I know you’ll find someone who truly loves you. You’re a beautiful young woman who has her entire life ahead of her. I’m flattered t'at you feel t’at way about me but we can’t, I can’t. If the roles were reversed and we were married and Yvonne approached me, wouldn’t you want me to stop t’ings before t’ey went too far?” He supported her head as she dropped it slightly to the side. She felt empty of words and so he continued. 

“You’re a darling girl but you know we can’t do t’is.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and wiped away her tears. “You need a boy your age who knows how to love you in the way you need to be loved. I only know how to love my wife… and she’s the only one who knows how to love me.”

“I could have loved you in whatever way you needed.” She whispered weakly and he smiled softly. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothed her like a father, “but you wouldn’t have been happy wit' me. You’re out of my league and you would have gotten bored of me.” He joked lightly and she allowed a pained smile to form on her lips. 

“I’m sorry, Cillian. I feel like such a fool.” She closed her eyes and he hugged her close. 

“Nah, you’re still a kid. You’re many t’ings but foolish is not one of ’em.” He squeezed her tightly and kissed her head affectionately. “You’re a good kid and a great actress. We’ll be fine, the two of us, eh?” He pulled away and she wiped her eyes dry. 

“I’ll try.”  

She kissed him briefly on the cheek and rose to her feet. She walked to the door and looked back at the actor with a small smile, the door open in front of her.

“Goodnight, Cillian.” 

He nodded from the couch. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

Cillian stood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. 

“You weren’t the only one.... That is, you weren’t the only one who felt…” he broke off and cleared his throat, “but it's better t’is way, yeh?.... It’ll pass, love. It’ll pass.” 

He met her eyes one last time and she nodded sadly yet full of a completeness found in their mutual understanding. 

“Goodnight, Cillian.” She said again and closed the door behind her and left the trailer, walking with her back to the wind. Cillian collapsed back on the couch and looked at his watch, wondering if Yvonne was awake. She always answered his calls. She put up with everything, God bless her. She was everything and more than he deserved. He rang her up and she answered after the second ring, her voice ringed with sleepiness.

"Heya, love." He whispered with a smile, "No, everyt'ing's fine. I just wanted to call you. I miss you, girl. Yeah, yeah. Put them on."

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 4

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

He actually did buy flowers to hand to Cassian, only to have a shadow whisk them away as soon as his brother started sneezing uncontrollably. 

Cassian‘s scowl was a beauty to behold after all. 

The same evening, he came to see Oriana again. It was a daily thing these days unless he wasn’t in Velaris. And if he wasn’t in Velaris, his shadows kept tabs on her for him. never telling him any more than Mistress seems happy, Master. She went out dancing with friends this evening. Or Mistress is working on Master’s armour, again. 

Oriana knew they did so and still wore one tendril unapologetically wrapped around her wrist or heck, depending on what she was doing at the time. 

And in return, Azriel was quite certain that if he weren’t already in love with Oriana his shadows would try to start a love affair all on their own. 

They tried to get as close to her as possible, always some of them staying with her and Azriel waited on the day that some of the tendrils would start a fight about who got to stay with Oriana for the day. 

The shadow travelled right inside her living room as soon as the shadows gave the all-clear. No need to use the front door like everybody else. 

Azriel found her on her couch, the low table in front of it covered with books and documents filled with loopy handwriting. 

Her own, he realised. He had never seen her write before but this was clearly her handwriting as she was diligently taking notes in the same handwriting right now. 

“Thank you for the flowers, they were gorgeous, sweetling,” she told him, looking up from her work, that bright smile that he adored on her face,  and he couldn’t help himself but to sit down right next to her, even when the couch was gonna be uncomfortable for his wings. He sat down next to her and he pulled her against her side. 

She was fresh out of her shower when the towel that was keeping her hair contained was anything to go by, dressed in a bright yellow silk robe that tied closed, and was maybe modest with long sleeves and just the hint of a v-neckline but also draped over her curves like liquid. 

He couldn’t help it when he pulled her against him, pressing a soft kiss against her lips as she turned her head into him, tasting something sweet and smelling warmth and something spicy that by now he knew was the soap she used. 

This was as close to paradise as he had ever come before. 

Whatever shit he had dealt with during the day, as soon as he got to hold Oriana during the evening…it all was fine as far as he was concerned. 

Especially when he got to kiss her like that, soft and lazy and exploratory, a warm hand curling into the back of his neck and her lush curves pressed against him. 

It made him feel warm in the best way. 

“I bought them to fuck with my brother,” he admitted as he pulled back slightly. “He’s allergic.”

“You know, there are lots of things I want to talk to you about right now, but your brother is quite low on that list,” Oriana whispered hoarsely and he couldn’t help but laugh and then groan in the next kiss as she moved so that she could straddle them. He caught her knee, carefully making sure that she wasn’t going to jam Truth-Teller into the soft flesh of her thigh and then settled his hands on her hips. 

He wanted to touch her. Everywhere he could get away with. He started with her hips, allowing himself to feel how solid she was in his grasp. 

The lightest touches because he never wanted to put a single bruise on her skin, even when he didn’t think they would even be visible on the skin the colour of the pitch black night. 

His hands slid higher up, over the dip of her waist and up her ribcage, feeling every inch, the silk soft underneath his fingertips. 

And then finally they slid even higher, up to the soft swell of her breasts, and he waited for her to call a stop to it, but she didn’t. 

Oriana didn’t even hesitate as she pressed into his hands, arching her back, her skin warm and soft and…

And then his shadows flinched violently and the smell of burning hair assaulted his nose and Oriana scrambled off his lap, the collar of her dressing gown in flames. 

He could just stare at her wide-eyed as he watched her stare at the flames, seemingly willing them into submission with not even a touch. 

It took longer than he had ever seen her need before until they went out, only leaving slight smoking fabric behind.

The marigold yellow of her gown, tinted with black, was ruined. 

“Are you alright?” he finally dared to ask her, because he had never seen her lose control of her powers in such a way. “ Oriana .”

“I really need to work on this fucking necklace,” she cursed. 

Only now, he saw that the gown was singed in the places where it touched the gold, thumb-thick necklace encircling her throat. 

This hadn’t been her losing control of her powers, he realised suddenly. It was something else entirely . 

It was that necklace with the enchantment on it that she had agreed was a chastity device. 

And he had triggered it. Not with his anger. It hadn’t lashed out at him . 

It had lashed out at her . 

“Why?” he finally breathed. This didn’t…was this the prize that she needed to pay for the protection it offered? Or was it…

“Because I was stupid when I made it, Azriel,” Oriana admitted, her voice dark. “I ignored every safety precaution I was taught to use. I didn’t use a blank necklace that never held an enchantment. I layered it over an already existing fidelity enchantment. I thought it wouldn’t do anything because the person the fidelity enchantment was locked onto was dead. But clearly, I am wrong,” she muttered. 

And suddenly the pieces came together. 

“…That’s your wedding necklace,” he brought out weakly and she just nodded. 

This was the necklace her husband had given her on their wedding day. The one that she would have only taken off after he died. 

And she hadn’t. 

“You are still wearing it.”

It was like somebody stabbed him. 

He wasn’t even sure why. He had known that she had been married.

It hadn’t bothered him. She was two centuries old, of course, she had a history. A long history, that he didn’t know about and it would be ridiculous for him to expect that there never had been anybody that she had loved. 

And he had believed her when she had told him that she was over her late husband. 

And now he found out that Oriana still wore her wedding necklace. 

“Yes,” Oriana agreed softly. “And no, it’s not because I am still hung up over Wynstan. Get that idea out of your head, please.” She sighed. “I put the enchantment on literal days after he died. Traditionally I would be expected to wear the necklace for at least a year after his death during my mourning period. I just am still wearing a century later,” she explained. “I need to take it off, but to do that, I need to break my enchantment. Which is what I was working on,” she said, a hand waving to all the pieces of paper spread over her couch table. 

She went to sit next to him again and he couldn’t…he couldn’t reach out for her. Not when…

“Well, that and some research for your armour,” Oriana explained, the flames in her eyes openly there, not hidden beneath the pitch black she pulled over it to make other people more comfortable. She sat there quietly, perusing him. 

“Please don’t look at me like you think I still love him and would pick him over you,” she whispered and he couldn’t help but flinch, because she put it into words. 

Every self-conscious thought that had been swirling through his head. All there. 

“I… You spent a hundred years with the necklace he put around your throat,” he said softly. 

That meant something, didn’t it? 

Oriana cocked her head to the side. 

“You spent 500 years in love with another woman. You have only known me for weeks,” she gave back, her voice even. 

It hit the intended spot. 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Master, she is saying the truth, his shadows whispered nearly hesitantly. 

“We both have a past, Azriel,” Oriana said quietly. “There are going to be times when that shows up again. And it will get messy. But I promise you, that I am going to be honest with you about my feelings. And I swear to you, that I am all in on this.” He could hear the truth in that. “ I swear. ”

He was too. Somewhere along the line, he had already fallen in love with her. Somewhere along the way, she had become…important to him. 

Too important to fuck this up, over this. 

“I am too,” he promised her.  “I…I want this to work between us.”

“So you aren’t going to be jealous over a dead male?” she asked him flatly and he swallowed. Oriana sighed. “You have something that he never had, Azriel.”

The way that she said that made him stare at her. 

Wynstan had had Oriana as his wife. He had married her, clearly with the agreement of her family, because otherwise, it wouldn’t have been an arranged marriage. It had been prosperous for them for some reason. They had wanted them to be married. 

And then there was him. 

An Illyrian bastard with nothing to his name, but the hundreds of people he had killed and tortured. 

Oriana mustered him, holding out a hand and he slipped his own into her. 

“Sweetling…you have me,” Oriana said with a soft smile. “You have all of me.” 

Somehow that was exactly what he needed to hear. 

Still, he concentrated on the half-burned collar of her dressing gown. 

“I liked that one,” he managed to bring out, reaching out for the still-smoking fabric. 

“I’ll get another one like it,” Oriana said easily. “Maybe in blue this time,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He swallowed, but still reached out to tip her head back and take another look at that damn necklace. Thumb-thick, round, diamonds scattered throughout.

“Did you make this?” he asked her. “Not the enchantment, the actual necklace.”

“No, traditionally, the husband makes it,” Oriana said easily. “Wynstan did. It wasn’t what I would have picked,” she admitted with a shrug. 

No, it seemed to be too….big for her tastes. Most of the jewellery he had seen her wear was gold with few stones. None of them were that massive…most of it was intricate, more like a spider web than a blunt object. 

This was the latter. 

He reached out to touch it, but she caught his wrist. “Careful, it’s hot. I don't want you to hurt your hands,” she warned him softly.

Azriel just looked at her. “They got through worse.”

She gave in with a sigh. 

The metal was hot to the touch but not painful and as he lifted it up, he couldn’t help but hiss in sympathy as he saw the skin underneath it. 

“Nothing that won’t heal,” Oriana said quietly. “Magical fire can still hurt me, but I’ll heal quickly from it.” 

Yes, but he knew burns and how much they hurt. 

And they could at least do something against the pain. 

“Where do you keep your apothecary stuff?” he asked her instead.

“Under the sink,” Oriana answered, sounding rather bemused. 

That’s all he needed to know, as he went to retrieve it and then very carefully put the salve on the burns surrounding her neck. 

It was his turn to fuss for once, he reflected with a grimace. 

Still, as he slid his fingertips over her soft skin and he watched her dark eyes slide closed, Azriel realised that he wasn’t going to just stand by and not say a single thing. 

“I really like you,” he finally said softly. He couldn’t say I love you. Not now. Not right now. Maybe never. He had never even thought of these words before but it was there. 

There was like that small kernel of fire that lit within him these days, the remnants of that fledgling mating bond, when he could feel Oriana’s happiness and how content she was, nearly every day. Especially when he got to see her. 

He liked to keep tabs on her like that, a part of him absentmindedly monitoring her moods throughout the day. She was very comfortable to have close like that, mostly because Oriana’s emotions were very…even most of the time. It was rare that he got anything but really nice feelings from her at all. 

Still, as he said these words, the soft happiness that he could normally feel from her whenever he was with her, turned into the sun, bright and shining and irrevocably ecstatic.

“I really like you too,” Oriana responded, her smile so bright that it looked like it must have hurt.

He cupped her face in his hands, so violently scarred as he held his very happiness in his hands and pressed one single chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. All he was willing to risk. At least until they got rid of that necklace of hers. 

He was not going to risk her getting hurt again. 

He was not. 

Regardless of how much he wanted to touch her satiny skin and press kisses to…everywhere she would let him touch her. 

“My grandmother’s birthday is in a few days. I am going to go back into the mountain…I am going to get rid of the necklace,” she told him and his fingers froze. 

“Can you do that? Is it safe?” he asked her carefully. 

“I created it. I can unmake it,” Oriana said softly. “I was researching it when you came in.”

“You were?” 

“That and a way to make the metal malleable but still have it keep the strength to save somebody from getting stabbed,” she explained. “I’ll get some metal in these fighting leathers of yours, even when it’s the last thing I do,” she told him fiercely and a soft smile appeared on his face at that. 

“Is it possible for metal to behave like that?” Azriel asked her and she shrugged. 

“Well, I haven’t found a way yet…but that doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. I’ll figure it out,” she said thoughtfully. Somehow he didn’t doubt for one moment that if there was a way to figure it out, Oriana would do it. He finally pulled his hands back, looking at the stacks of papers on her table. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Azriel offered. He was quite certain that he wouldn’t understand a word on these pages but Oriana just shook her head, grimacing.  

“Unless you have a huge research library, not really,” Oriana quipped. 

Azriel didn’t. But he knew somebody that did. 

“Well…if you tell me what you need, I’ll get it for you,” Azriel finally said  

The smile that she gave him was definitely worth it. 

So, when Oriana produced a list of books she wanted, on the topics she needed, he took that list and brought it with him to the House of Wind the very next day. 

Finding Gwyn was easy, thanks to her bright red hair that flowed behind her, busy putting some books back on the shelves. He made sure to make noise as he approached, not wanting to spook her. 

She turned before he even said a word. 

“Azriel!” she greeted him brightly. “What brings you here?”

“I…I need your help, please,” he said and her ocean-blue eyes widened. 

“My help? Of course,” she agreed. “What do you need?” He wanted to make a quip about her being careful what she promised, but he didn’t.

“I am working together with a blacksmith for…some weapon redesigns. I have a list of research material I am supposed to procure,” he explained. It wasn’t a lie. Not an outright one. Hopefully, nothing anybody would even think twice about if Gwyn mentioned to them. 

He had managed to keep Oriana a secret from Rhys but…well, it was always there in the back of his mind. 

He still didn’t want anybody to know, still wanted to protect the fledgling thing between them. 

It was his private life. 

He had never known happiness like he got right now and he would do anything in his power to keep it. 

And if that meant that he wasn’t going to tell any member of his family about Oriana, then he wasn’t. 

It was his secret to keep after all. 

“Well, the library is at your disposal,” Gwyn said, giving him a soft smile. “Do you have a list? Let me see.” 

So he handed over a piece of paper covered in Oriana’s handwriting and trailed after Gwyn as she led him through the labyrinth that was the library, helping him pull everything Oriana had requested…and a few books that Gwyn thought would also fit the bill. 

“Thank you. This has been…very helpful, Gwyn,” he said when he had a whole stack of them to check out and she grinned at him. 

“Of course! Can I see what you come up with when it’s finished?” she asked. 

“I’ll let you know,” he promised her. “But it will probably take a little while.” 

He wasn’t going to put any time pressure on Oriana. Not when she did all of this for him, just because. 

Every time he looked at his Siphons, he couldn’t help but smile slightly at them after all. 

“That’s fine.” Gwyn agreed, looking like she wanted to say something else, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I…Azriel…” 

“Yes?” he asked. What was this about now? Why was she looking nervous? Was something going on?

“Would you like to have dinner sometime?” Gwyn blurted out and he wasn’t the only one that froze in place. His shadows did too. None of them had expected these words. “I…Like a date,” Gwyn continued.

Oh. 

Oh. 

He opened his mouth but no words managed to come out. This really wasn’t what…he had expected. 

And he didn’t really know how to react to it, because…

Females didn’t want to date him. He had realised that a very long time ago. What he wanted never mattered either, because nobody wanted that from him. 

He wasn’t good enough to have that. 

His shadows squeezed him in warning, not liking how he thought about himself, but it was the truth. 

Gwyn deserved so much better than him.  He didn’t want to hurt Gwyn’s feelings because she was a friend…and he also didn’t want Nesta to try and kill him. Or Gwyn herself. 

He was with Oriana. Who for some reason didn’t seem to care that she definitely also deserved better than him. But nobody knew that. 

And he would like to keep it that way. 

Still, he knew how much bravery this must have taken from Gwyn and… 

“I just thought that…” Gwyn started and Azriel interrupted her. 

“Gwyn,” he said quietly. “I am…very flattered but I am… very much spoken for.” Was…was this…letting her down gently? Without hurting her feelings? 

If she even had feelings for him. He couldn’t imagine why she would have, but he still didn’t want her to be…

Gwyn’s bright blue eyes widened. “You are?” she asked, sounding surprised. “Oh. I am so sorry, I didn’t know that you…”

“No, you couldn’t have known, Gwyn,” he hurried to add. “It’s...” It was new. It was so perfect, making him so happy and…none of the words in his brain seemed to be enough. “It’s...new,” he finally settled on, the word lacking. 

He just hoped that Cassian was not going to find out about this, because if he was…then any hope of Rhys not finding out about Oriana was gone. 

The whole of Velaris would probably know.

“Thank you. Truly,” he added and then he was out there like a bat out of hell. 

Now he just needed to figure out how to explain this to Oriana. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The fact that Azriel came to her, his ears blushing beet red and nearly stuttering as he told her about being asked out on a date by a pretty female, was surprisingly charming. 

“Well, you are a very attractive male, Azriel. Being asked out shouldn’t surprise you,” she told him, halfway between teasing and being serious. 

“Nobody wants to date me,” he gave back, his voice matter of fact. “And if I want to fuck someone, I should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it,” he muttered under his breath. The crude words were in such a sharp contrast to how he normally talked that she could just stare at him, her eyebrows raised. 

These weren’t his words. 

Somebody had said that to him. 

“Who said that to you?” she asked him, the anger rising in the back of her throat, so bitter that she could taste it. “Azriel, who said that to you?”

“What?” he asked her, staring at her, hazel eyes wide. 

“Who said that to you, Azriel?” she repeated. “These aren’t your words. Who said that to you?”

She would like to have words with whoever said that to him. 

She didn’t know the context didn’t know when that was said, but she knew, she just knew how Azriel had understood them. 

“I…” his voice was so quiet and she reached out a shaky hand for his face, cupping his cheek as he closed his eyes and she could see see the disgust for himself etched on every one of his features. 

“Somebody said that to you,” she repeated, her voice shaky. “Somebody said that to you and you took it to mean that you don’t deserve to be loved or to be taken care of because the only way anybody would ever want to sleep with you would be if you paid for it.” He seemed to slump together at her words, even the wings shuddering as she hit on what must have been every single insecurity he had in one fell swoop. 

She hated herself for voicing it. She hated it, to see how he shuddered, his jaw so tight and she was sure that he was holding back a sob or something else, and all he could do was to stand in front of him and cradle his head in her hands. 

She hesitantly slid a hand up his back, careful not to jostle his wings. He slumped into her, a shaky breath escaping her, as she took his weight without a single complaint, holding him as tightly as she dared. 

“Oh, sweetling,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against his temple. “It’s alright. It’s all going to be fine.” 

She felt more than she heard him break, right there in her arms. 

She swallowed. She didn’t think she was ever going to see this. Not like this. But Azriel broke apart, his back shuddering and the first tears hit her skin, scalding hot. She ignored it. She said nothing as he cried, did nothing but rub her hands along the side of his back and pressed kisses against his hair. 

“I want to date you,” she finally said quietly. “I am dating you.”

“We don’t even leave your house,” he protested his voice shaky, head still buried against the side of her neck and she huffed. 

“That doesn’t matter,” she gave back sharply. “We got to the woods and you let me try to stab you and utterly fail. We don’t leave the house because I didn’t think you wanted to. I don’t care what we do if I get to spend time with you. We can do nothing but hang around in the forge. I am completely happy to do anything you want,” she said softly. “Maybe one day I am going to show you how we used to dance in the mountains. Maybe we’ll go flying about Velaris and you can make fun of my weak stomach and I’ll stare at your wings and want to touch them because they are so beautiful. You are so beautiful, Azriel.” 

“And one day in the future I want to sleep with you and you won’t pay me for that in any way, other than your love for me,” she said, her voice fierce. “And you deserve all of that and more.” 

She didn’t think that she was ever going to get that in his thick head. Not completely. 

“And whoever said that to you, give me a name and I’ll burn them to a bloody crisp,” she promised him and his shoulders shuddered again into something akin to a laugh.  

“I wouldn’t suggest that. He can be quite fierce,” Azriel whispered, his voice hoarse and Oriana just hummed. 

“I can be fierce too,” she said drily. 

She could be. 

And she was really pissed off right now. 

“Alright, come on,” she finally said quietly. “We’ll do my favourite thing if I feel like everything sucks,” she told him drily and Azriel finally pulled his head back. His eyes were red and he still looked…upset, but she could work with that. 

She led him to her couch, the books that he had brought back for her long forgotten as she pulled the ugliest throw blanket that she had ever seen off the back of it and pulled it over his shoulders. 

She watched him taken in the crochet squares, all of them different, the yarn a myriad of different colours. 

“Where did you get that from?” he asked her, and she sighed. 

“A few years ago, I had a phase where I tried to learn how to crochet. This was the single result,” she explained. “I suck at it.” It still pissed her off that it had been the one craft she had ever tried that she hadn’t been able to get the hand out of. 

She went to the kitchen,  leaving him on the couch, though she kept a weather eyes on Azriel as he stared at her throw blanket with more than one hole. 

A few minutes later, she came back, tugging at one corner of the blanket so that she could sit next to him and have it cover her as well. 

She handed him an absolutely massive mug. 

“Hot chocolate?” he asked her, one corner of his mouth twitching up. She nodded. 

“I have a horrible sweet tooth,” she admitted with a sigh. Oriana figured as far as vices went that one was quite benign, but still.

“You want to know a secret? Me too,” Azriel told her softly and she grinned at him, intertwining their hands. 

Crisis averted. At least for the moment. 

Still, she didn’t forget that he hadn’t actually admitted to her who had told him that. Or in what context.

“The female that asked you out. She’s a friend?” she asked and Azriel nodded, his voice still hoarse. “Yes. I…It’s a long story,” he said quietly. “She works in that library where I got your books from. We met a few years ago, I…I got her to safety after…something happened to her. She was…traumatised. But she’s doing much better now. I have worked together with her for a few years. I thought we were friends.”

“You still are friends. I imagine you let her down gently,” Oriana said, gently jostling him with her shoulder and Azriel shrugged.  

“I told her that I was spoken for,” he said, his voice sounding unsure. 

“You are,” she agreed. “I am too. And that was very gentle, Azriel. She’ll get over you,” she promised him. At least she hoped so, for the other female’s sake. Oriana wasn’t going to let Azriel go if she had another choice on that matter, after all. 

“She’s nice,” Azriel said softly. “I like her. I just…feel bad. I don’t even know why. She could find somebody better than me in a heartbeat,” he said and once again she heard the things that he didn’t say. How he deserved seemingly every bit of pain anybody threw at him and was just expected to take it all. 

“I don’t think so. I don’t think many males are better than you,” Oriana said, her voice even and he looked at her startled. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. Like you are worth nothing,” she told him tightly. She wasn’t going to stand for that. 

But that wasn’t why she had asked that question. “What does she like? She’s helping with my research. I think I owe her a thank-you gift,” she asked him and Azriel stared at her. 

“I have no clue,” he admitted finally 

She hummed. “Alright. I’ll think of something,” she promised easily. 

One enchanted teapot later, Oriana figured that it was probably the best thing she could come up with. She didn’t want to make jewellery, because even if Azriel gave it to her and told her that it was from Oriana it still had a…romantic taste to it. So a teapot it was. Oriana just hoped that the other female drink tea. 

Still, it was fun to make something like that for once. Completely not needed, and still fun to make. 

Even with that…it didn’t stop her from stewing in her own anger about what that mysterious person had told Azriel. 

It was there in the back of his head even when she finished packing up her things to take to the mountain for her grandmother’s birthday a few days later. She had said her goodbye to Azriel that morning and he had left her with one tendril of shadow wrapped around her hand. 

Cyrus showed up, his bag in hand, ready for their hour or so of travelling... to their childhood home.  

 “No Briony and the younglings?” she asked him and he shrugged. 

“You know how much she hates the mountain,” he said with a grin. Yeah, she could understand that. “What are you giving grandma for her birthday?”

“Necklace and earrings,” Oriana said, opening the box she had placed them in for Cyrus’ perusal and his eyebrows raised. 

“Very pretty,” he commented. She agreed. Opal and yellow gold. Oriana herself had a love affair with blue opals that day, squirrelling away the prettiest stones whenever she got a new shipment of them. 

“Yeah, I thought so too,” she agreed. She closed her bag, hesitating for a moment. 

“What are you thinking about?” Cyrus asked her. She turned to meet her brother’s gaze. 

“I am ready to take it off.” She didn’t need to say anything more. He understood. No need to spell it out. 

Cyrus stared at her, eyebrows raising. “Is it because of Azriel?” he asked her quietly. 

Yes, but no.  He had just been the last drop in a bucket that was already close to overflowing. 

It was…

“He deserves me being able to give him all of me,” she responded. “He’s my mate.”

They were made for each other. She knew that it didn’t promise a happily ever after…but it did give her something that she had never had before and she wanted it to work out. She really wanted it to work out. She wanted to be with him, really be with him, without even needing to spend one-second thinking about…him. 

“Has he given you all of him?” Cyrus gave back, crossing his arms. She stared at him. “I just mean, that he seems to be very…quiet,” Cyrus defended himself. “Secretive even. How much do you really know about him?” he challenged her. 

“I know enough,” she snapped. 

She did. And yes, maybe Azriel didn’t talk about his past often, and didn’t like to open up to her, but she didn’t think that he did it for any other reason than being terrified of another person hurting him. 

“I don’t disagree with that. I am just worried that you are throwing yourself headfirst into something that…he can’t give you, Oriana,” Cyrus said with a sigh.  

“He’s my mate. I trust him. He has never lied to me,” Oriana responded. “You have been on me for decades to finally take off the necklace. And suddenly you don’t want me to do it anymore?”

Cyrus rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I am not going to keep holding onto something that has only ever brought me pain because I am too afraid to take the next step,” she said quietly.  

“That’s not…” Cyrus started and she finally had enough. 

“He tried to kill me, Cyrus!”

Her brother flinched. “It was an accident,” Cyrus said quietly. 

She snorted. It wasn’t. It hadn't been an accident. None of it had been. “No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a bloody accident, and everybody knows that. He knew exactly what he was doing. Wynstan knew, Cyrus,” she forced out these words. She had never said them, before, even when she knew that they were the truth. 

What had happened that day in that forge hadn’t been an accident. And it had ended with him dead and her on the brink of it. But she knew. She knew. 

It had been a freak accident in a sense. It should have killed her, not him. 

Ruby red blood trickling down her body, as the inferno raged around her. The pain, the agony…the spearing pain…

If the wound hadn’t killed her, the magical fire should have. 

Instead, it had turned onto him.  

It should have turned on her, magical fire should have burned her to a crisp. Instead…Instead, it had hurt her. But it had killed him. 

“He knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what he wanted to achieve. And he nearly managed it.”

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day eight

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (oral m & f receiving), angst, drinking, little bit of fluff

length : 5.6k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy

a/n : It's @spikeisdaddy's birthday today! Hope you enjoy the chapter 😉

•••

day eight

We spent the night away from each other and even though we’d all just agreed to only focus on having some fun, it felt like the loneliest night yet. I found myself tossing and turning and reaching out for people who weren’t there. It seemed stupid, really. We’d only done the whole sleepover endeavour once, yet I missed it as if it was the norm. I was tired and restless when my alarm went off. At least today involved no travelling. As much as I enjoyed getting around, I needed a restful day.

If the universe decided to be gentle with me and allow me one.

I was in the middle of trying to decide whether I should call Lia or finally get back at my roommate and whatever bad news I assumed she had to tell me, when my phone displayed a new, private message from Noah.

Noah How did you realise you enjoyed giving blowjobs

I was still in shock at the words I was reading when another text came in.

Noah Okay maybe it was rude to assume you enjoyed giving blowjobs, dismiss that part Aubrey Noah, my love, I’m going to need a lot more context for this question Noah Absolutely not Aubrey Give me your room number, I’m coming over Noah Folio’s here Aubrey FINE come to mine then No more excuses

Noah, luckily, obliged. I didn’t have to kick Oli’s arse into gear for another two hours, really, so there was more than enough time to deal with whatever Noah needed to discuss. Not that I didn’t have an idea what was on his mind. But I wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. He’d have to say it out loud to get any help from me.

When I opened the door to Noah, he was blushing deeper than I’d ever seen him and I couldn’t help pulling him down for a quick kiss just for the sheer adorableness. Then I pushed him into the room, walking him backwards until he sat down on the edge of my bed and mustered him from above.

“So?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “What possessed you to get up this morning and type that exact message into our chat?”

“Nothing, it was just a question!” Noah exclaimed as if I would believe it.

“Sure. You just happen to wonder, out of nowhere, about giving blowjobs.”

“What if I am?”

“You’re not though.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

He tried to look stern, but the lingering red colour on his cheeks didn’t do him any favours. We were at a stalemate, staring at each other, trying to force the other to budge through the sheer pressure of silence. But he had no idea how stubborn I could be.

He broke sooner than anticipated.

“Fine, Folio made a stupid comment about when I was going to suck Oli’s dick and then it wouldn’t leave my head.”

“Because you’re interested in it?” I asked, carefully, stroking his head as I stepped a little closer. He immediately spread his thighs so I could move between them, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“I don’t know,” he answered, honestly. I could see the torment in his eyes, the question of whether he dared to go further, of what he wanted, of what Oli would let him do.

“Well, I guess you won’t know unless you try. But…” I sank down on my knees in front of him. “I could always show you how it’s done, if you're nervous about that.”

Noah’s laboured breathing was answer enough and when my hands reached for his belt, he leaned back instinctively, giving me more space to work with. I made quick work of undoing his belt, opening the button and fly of his trousers. He willingly lifted his hips so I could push the fabric down, immediately removing his boxers along with it.

Noah was hard. My mouth salivated just from looking at it.

“Thinking about doing this to Oli got you all excited, hm? He’s gorgeous, you know. I got to see it once, up close, just as hard as you are now.” My hand softly grabbed onto his dick, giving him a few teasing strokes. He sighed in relief. “He came all over my chest. But you? You get to come in my mouth. If you want to.”

I fluttered my eyes at him. Noah couldn’t nod fast enough, holding eye contact with me as I lowered my head and gave him a long lick, tasting all of him from his base to his tip.

“You want to start slow, you know?” I mused, before repeating my action. “Tease him a little. Get him all hot and bothered.” My hand was moving when my tongue wasn’t on him. “See what he’s into.”

I let my tongue twirl around his head a little and then, almost unexpectedly, engulfed it in my mouth. Noah groaned beautifully, a hand now holding the back of my head, I wasn’t even sure if he was aware of it. I tasted the precum already dripping, savouring the slightly bitter taste just because it was him before moving away again.

“Putting your mouth on him is when it gets really good. Don’t aim for too much if you’re not used to it.” I took him a bit farther into my mouth, just for a moment, then I withdrew. “Try to figure out what he's into. I think Oli can be pretty loud so that wouldn’t be a problem.” I grinned up at him, but he didn’t manage to look back at me for long.

As soon as my mouth was on him again, he threw his head back, eyes closed in pleasure. It was straining to look up at him from my position but I couldn’t help trying to see every now and then, trying desperately to commit the image to mind.

Noah was turning into a moaning, trembling mess, quickly. I was rhythmically moving my mouth over his dick now, taking him as far as I comfortably could, my hand covering the rest of his length. He was heavy on my tongue, slightly thick, perfect. His hand was fully grasping my hair now, bordering on painful, but I enjoyed it all the same. I knew he was going to come soon.

Going a little faster still, working my mouth and hand in tandem, it didn’t take much more for him to fall apart. His deep groan vibrated somewhere deep inside me as he came, keeping me in place as I swallowed it all, just as I had promised.

When I finally pulled off, Noah bonelessly fell backwards, breathing hard and I had to chuckle at how my efforts had worked out.

“So, what do you say?” I asked, even though I was unsure he was hearing me just yet. “Want to give it a try? I could shoot Oli a text right now.”

I didn’t expect him to agree.

“Text him,” he murmured. “But stay.”

I wasn’t one to refuse. My underwear was already uncomfortably wet. Now I was getting to see Noah give Oli his first ever blowjob? It was going to be the most delicious torture.

Still, I crawled up onto the bed quickly, taking Noah’s face between my hands and making him look at me. His eyes were glazed, but his mind seemed clear.

“Sure?”

He pulled me down for a kiss, not caring where I’d literally just had my mouth.

“So sure.”

Aubrey Come over. Noah wants to blow you.

Noah had barely come back to life and managed to get properly dressed again when a knock sounded through the room. Of course, Oli would waste no time at all after getting that message. I opened the door to a very flustered and out-of-breath singer, even though the way from his room to mind hadn’t even been remotely long enough to get so worked up. Apparently the idea was more than appealing to him.

“Is this for real?” he asked the second he entered the room, moving past me just to check if Noah was really there. “Because if not I got a boner for nothing.”

I didn’t know what, exactly, I had been expecting. But it surely wasn’t Noah all but flying off the bed, pressing Oli against the wall and falling to his knees.

“Someone's eager,” Oli chuckled, lifting Noah's head with two fingers under his chin to force him to look at him. “Let's see what you got then.”

I found my place on the singular armchair in the room, right next to them, seating myself on the arm rest to assure I would have the best view of it all. Noah deftly pulled down Oli's sweatpants, revealing both the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear and that he was growing considerably harder with every passing second. For a moment, Noah hesitated, hands resting on Oli's tattooed thighs, before looking up at me. I gave him a quick nod. It was all the reassurance he needed.

If Noah had indeed not touched a single dick that wasn't his own, he did a mighty fine job of hiding it. I watched in awe as he teased Oli with his hands, then his tongue, quickly reducing the other to a man made of nothing but groans and desire. The heat between my legs was becoming almost unbearable at the sight in front of me, two absolutely gorgeous men completely lost in their lust, but touching myself wasn't an option. I couldn't risk missing a single moment of what was happening.

“Fuck, Noah,” Oli moaned. “Don't…” How voice wavered a little as Noah wrapped his lips around his cock. “Don't take me too deep, you gotta sing tonight.”

With a hand in Noah's hair, Oli tried desperately to control the other man's sloppy but eager actions. Noah's nails were clawing into Oli's thighs, desperate for something to hold onto. My hands balled into fists at my sides, my thighs clenched. I hadn't entertained the idea that watching a man I was attracted to give a blowjob to another, equally attractive man could be a major turn on, but my bodily reactions were impossible to ignore.

Abruptly, Noah took Oli deeper, much deeper, leaving him to fall apart in an instant. Under chants filled with more profanity than I had ever heard, Oli came in Noah's mouth, back arching away from the wall, eyes squeezed shut. As soon as the feeling started to subside, Oli let go of Noah's hair and sunk down into his knees in front of him.

“Fucking hell, I told you not to do that.” His voice was harsh as he scolded Noah, but his fingers were soft as he wiped Noah's mouth clean. “You better rest your voice for the rest of the day.” Oli's eyes flickered up to me. “But I think there's some more work for your mouth to do.”

Suddenly, both pairs of eyes were on me. Oli’s face showed a grin, while there was nothing but hunger to be found in Noah’s glance. If it hadn’t been so fucking hot, it almost would have been intimidating.

In a few short steps, Noah was stood in front of me, heavily grasping my wrists to study the way I was still forming fists with my hands.

“On the bed. Now.”

“Voice rest, Noah!” Oli called from where he still sat on the floor. I studied him for a moment, looking utterly fucked out, eyes still half-lidded, pants still shoved down, not even bothering to tuck his dick back in. It shouldn’t have looked so tempting, really. Then I remembered Noah’s stern voice and when I looked up at him, I knew I better do as told.

He let go of me as I stood up, letting me crawl onto the bed until I was laying on my back in the middle of it, knees propped up and slightly spread to let my skirt fall open just that little bit. It wasn’t even close to being enough for Noah. With a predatory groan he came to kneel in between my legs, roughly pushing the fabric upwards and my thighs further apart and -

“Fuck,” he mumbled, hands tightly holding onto my legs, but his eyes were fully fixated on my left thigh.

I knew he had seen a hint of the tattoo before, as had Oli, but none of them had had the chance to admire it from the position it was meant to be looked at. The snake curled around my upper thigh, its tail end right in front in the middle, going around it once and then ending on my inner thigh, the snake’s tongue out, just mere moments away from my panties, as if ready to pounce any minute. Noah traced it, all the way, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. I gasped when they reached the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh, so close to where I wanted him. But before I could even think about begging, pleading, crying for more, his mouth descended on my flesh, leaving a bite on the head of the snake that bordered on pain. I moaned all the same, the pure satisfaction of the sensation overpowering any possible negative feelings.

“You’re fucking naughty, you know that?”

I wasn’t sure if I had ever heard Noah talk like that but combined with his low voice it left me trembling. His fingers were now at the edges of my underwear between my legs and then, without any warning, brushed my clothed centre.

“And so wet. Did you get off on blowing me or watching me suck Oli off? Probably both. Probably doesn’t take much to get you in this state.”

It didn’t. Not when it came to those two. Every look, every touch, every kiss constantly threatened to soak my panties. In fact, it routinely did. I was twitching under him now, unable to keep my reactions under control at the proximity of his face to my pussy. He finally took pity on me, roughly wrecking the panties from my legs, pulling them down and throwing them some place I couldn’t see, before grabbing and spreading my thighs again. I didn’t have it in me to feel self-conscious at the way he mustered me, committing my naked form to memory, I just needed his hands or his mouth or anything.

“Stop moving,” he grumbled before finally putting his mouth on me and I couldn't hold back a shout, the nerve endings firing through my whole body, and raising my hips up to meet him. “I said. Don't. Move.”

Suddenly, an arm was draped over me. Opening my eyes, unaware they had shut in pleasure, I saw Oli, kneeling on the bed next to me with a smirk and holding me down. “Better listen to the man. You want to be a good girl for Noah, don't you?”

I simply moaned in return, letting Oli hold me down as Noah’s tongue licked my wetness, teased my clit, somehow feeling like he was everywhere at once. I was already so impossible turned on that any playing he did with me was solely for his own pleasure - I was moments away from falling apart. Especially when he decided I was more than ready for two of his fingers inside of me, lean and long and hitting my spot so perfectly. I mewled and trashed against it all, only kept down by Oli’s strong grip.

“Such a whore for a little action, aren’t you? You’d be begging and pleading if your brain was working enough to let you speak.” Oli’ voice was so low, drenched in his accent as if it was coming out thicker than ever when he was turned on. His free hand travelled to my neck, testing my reaction if he squeezed its side a little and all I could do was arch further into it, taking it all, whatever either of them would be willing to give me.

Noah’s fingers were moving faster, the noises seemingly echoing through the room from how drenched I was and then, finally, finally, he started flicking my clit with his tongue in exactly the way I needed, hard and fast.

“You couldn’t be loud on the bus,” Oli said, “but you better be as loud as you can now.”

Staying quiet wasn’t even an option. Not when my orgasm washed over me, still rising and rising with Noah’s face between my legs, my hips buckling so violently even Oli couldn’t hold them down completely. I came with a scream, all tension releasing into the feelings of overpowering lust paired with utter trust as I was surrounded by the two men I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Comin down happened gradually, my mind a haze. I whined when Noah removed his fingers but couldn’t help but moan when I saw my wetness clinging to his face, cheeks flushed red but looking so content. Oli was softly petting my hair, all dominating features about him vanishing as checked up on my, making sure I was okay.

When Noah crawled up onto the bed with us, curling up next to me, effectively caging me in between them once again, I knew I was more than okay. I couldn’t even dream of being anything else.

•••

Noah ended up pretending he had woken up with a sore throat which caused everyone to accept his choice to be on vocal rest immediately as long as it meant he could do the set tonight. Oli and I had trouble keeping our giggles to ourselves every time someone around us mentioned it though. Only after giving Noah another stern talking to about being more careful when sucking someone off next time he was on tour. He hadn’t fought back, but the rolling of his eyes had said it all.

By early afternoon, Bring Me The Horizon had completed their soundcheck and left for food somewhere else, citing to be sick of catering at venues. I declined the invitation to come along and instead grabbed a plate of whatever the location had deemed “Mexican food” and retired to Oli’s dressing room. As nice as the peace and quiet was, I was aware I didn’t have all that much time to relax. And I desperately needed to call my roommate. I’d left her waiting for long enough.

“Would you mind moving out for next month?”

The question hit me like a ton of bricks. And not just because it was the first thing she said to me instead of greeting me like, you know, a normal person.

“I’m sorry?”

I tried recalling the current date but came up short. End of January though, surely. She couldn't seriously expect me to find somewhere new in a matter of days, right?

Right?

“My boyfriend got kicked out of his place so he’s moving in here.”

“I… I have nowhere to go,” I stammered.

“Okay.”

Well, she surely wasn’t going to be any help.

“What if I say no?” I asked. Maybe I would manage to find something for March. Mid-February if I got really lucky.

“Well, l already talked to our landlord and I’m the main renter on the contract so I was able to change your name to his.”

“So you already kicked me out, basically? What the fuck?” I didn’t even bother to keep my voice down. Asking me to move out was one thing, admitting that the decision had already been made without informing me at all was very much another.

“Yeah, sorry,” she replied without much remorse at all. “You can pick up your stuff before the first right?”

I hung up. I knew that if I attempted to say anything else, I’d turn mean and cruel and as much as I felt like she deserved it in that moment, that simply wasn’t who I wanted to be.

Sitting in the dressing room, silence engulfing me, it was like my body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to let me get into a rage or break out into tears. Either way, I was restless, panicky, unable to process what I’d just been told. I stood up so abruptly, the forgotten about plate on my lap clattered to the floor loudly. At least I’d already finished my meal - I doubt I could stomach any food right now.

I needed something to do, though. The band was still gone but the time suggested that Bad Omens would start soundchecking right about now, so I ventured into the main room of the arena. Anything not to be alone. Noah stood at the sound desk, chatting with Becky, the rest of the band already on stage and fine-tuning their instruments. I joined the two of them, ready to scold Noah for talking, but he turned to me and, in the quietest voice imaginable, told me he was only whispering. Promise.

“Don’t overdo yourself at soundcheck,” I warned him still. “Oli’s going to kill you if you can’t sing.”

He simply shook his head with a smile and brushed his hand against mine as he made his way to the stage.

“Anything I can do?” I asked Becky. “Oli’s gone, so…”

“Actually, yes!” she beamed. “One of our techs is running late after visiting family yesterday so if you’d like to be the hands to my brain and don’t mind me ordering you around a little bit, you’re more than welcome to help out.”

“Believe me, you can’t be worse than Oli,” I laughed. The heaviness of my phone call was still weighing me down, but Becky’s sunny being made me feel lighter immediately. It was far from the worst way to spend my time.

***

Noah made it through his set and with the help of a lot of shutting up and taking care of his throat, I was sure the absolute majority of people never even noticed his struggles. It was still decided he’d sit out on Antivist once more, so while Bad Omen’s packed up and left, I did my best to keep busy. I was basically begging people for jobs, double-checking if Becky really didn’t need anything more from me (I was torn between believing she could handle it and wondering if I’d maybe done so badly she simply didn’t trust me around her equipment anymore), even Oli was annoyed when he couldn’t find anything else for me to do. My frantic attempts not to let a single thought occur were intermittently interrupted by Noah texting me.

Noah You’re a right worker’s bee tonight, aren’t you? Aubrey Cutest bee you’ll ever see

I cringed the very second I sent the message. Why would I even text something like that? My mind was clearly driving me insane. I was still trying to figure out if there was a way to delete my message and pretend he’d never seen it when his reply came in.

Noah You’re the bee’s knees I don’t actually know what that saying means Do bees have knees? Aubrey You’d think I’d know all about the birds and the bees but unfortunately not in the literary way

I put my phone away as Bring Me The Horizon were about to take the stage, lending my hands to a few of the workers in the most menial ways to make sure the show would be perfect. It mostly involved me holding things or carrying them from one place to another. It sort of felt like they were humouring me, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

About half an hour later, they saw me off, thanking me for my work and telling me to enjoy the rest of my night off. It wasn’t really what I wanted, but there was nothing to do. So I set out to find a vacated seat somewhere high up in the arena where I wouldn’t bother anyone and pulled my phone back out. It seemed Noah had been providing me with a string of consciousness. I scrolled through his messages with a smile until I reached the end.

Noah Wish you were here with me

What followed was a picture of his face, half of it under the water of the bathtub he had apparently gotten into, wet hair proving he’d already dunked his head all the way before, big, brown eyes staring back at me. The soft, relaxed expression on his face made me want to throw my phone away and run to him.

Aubrey I’m surprised you’re fitting into the bathtub Did you even get your feet in? Noah Very spacious bathtub

Another photo, now facing away from him, most of his body hidden under a thin layer of bubbles, showed that he did, indeed, fit quite well.

Noah Definitely place for you here too Aubrey I feel like that heavily depends on what you aim to do with me in there

I knew what I expected. Flirts. Inappropriate comments that I would give back twice fold. Dirty thoughts, dirty words. Possibly a picture or two than promised more. But none of that appeared.

Noah Make you sit between my legs so I can embrace you A little massage for those hard working muscles Definitely enough space to wash your hair Hold you close until the water turns cold Wrap you up in one of those fluffy towels Fall asleep with you

It didn’t matter that I was sitting in a massive, 11,000-capacity arena. It didn’t matter that Shadow Moses was currently making the whole place shake. That I was surrounded by people focused on nothing but shouting out the lyrics so loud they would drown Oli out. All I knew was that I was staring at Noah’s words and I couldn’t breathe.

Was this the same man that suggested all of us only being in this for a bit of fun? Who didn’t want anyone to get too close to him? Who was so convinced of his own shortcomings that he wouldn’t even dare try? It didn't make sense.

I pulled up the last photo again, just for something to do, for something to look at, while I tried to make my mind up about what to do. About whether I should let myself fall and allow this… sweetness that didn’t have anything to do with hooking up in my life. Or if I should push back, call him out on it, stay strong, keep our resolution.

I found myself zooming in on the picture. A bottle of wine. Empty. Another one reflecting in the mirror, half full.

Aubrey Are you drunk? Noah Would you mind?

There was an anger rising up in me, a bitter taste that suddenly has a clear origin. So it wasn’t real. The clarification that sounded through his text hit me in the face with force. It wasn’t him changing his mind, it wasn’t him opening up and actually wanting more. It was simply him being wine-drunk, needy and alone. I didn’t care how soft his words were. Not when I was sure he wouldn’t have typed them quite the same sober.

Noah I miss you, angel Already Come over when the show is done

I stared at the words. My heart wanted to jump at the chance, tell him yes, yes I’ll come to you, take whatever he would give me, indulge in the brief idea of this being more, him being serious, him wanting me for real. But I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. I’d fucked up before, back in Manchester, in a different way. I wouldn’t let us go down that path again. I couldn’t let him change his mind on a whim, again, and again, and allow myself to believe.

Aubrey I’ll see you tomorrow

•••

The tears started pooling in the corners of my eyes before I’d even properly shut the door to my room behind me. Everything I’d been trying to push away caught up with me all at once. Noah being unpredictable in his actions and his words. My roommate all but kicking me out. No job lined up once this tour ended.

I dragged myself under the shower, trying to wash away the bad feeling, thinking I could hide my tears if only I stayed under the stream of water for long enough, but my hair had been washed and conditioned, my body shaved and scrubbed and taken care of and I still couldn’t stop crying. It felt pathetic and weak. I should be able to handle this better. I’d always been able to handle myself.

But it was all too much, this time around. I’d never had to deal with the loss of a place to stay, no job prospects and the reality that I was catching feelings for people who didn’t reciprocate them all at the same time.

That was a lie. I wasn’t catching feelings. I was deep, deep into them already. There was no way to deny it anymore, not even to myself. The way my belly fluttered when I saw Noah or Oli wasn’t pure sexual attraction. Wanting to hold their hands, fall asleep next to them, sharing everything I could with them wasn’t platonic. Needing to get my hands on them, have their hands on me, feel them all over and inside wasn’t a friendship.

A sob wrecked from my mouth as I desperately tried to go through the motions. Drying my hair. Putting on a shirt to sleep in. Brushing my teeth. Yet I couldn’t stop. Every time I thought I had a chance of calming down, another wave of despair came over me and held me under.

A knock on the door made me jump, then freeze in the middle of my motions. Surely no one would come around this late? Maybe someone had the wrong room. I’d simply ignore it.

Another knock. I put my hand over my mouth to keep the sobbing at bay, trying not to let the person know I was even there. Angrily, I wiped a tear away that had slipped between my fingers and tickled my lips.

“Aubrey.” Oli’s voice was unmistakable. “Aubrey, I know you’re there. I can hear you crying.”

Fuck. There was no way I’d be able to get rid of Oli, no matter how much I hated the idea of letting him in and letting him see me like this. But my feet carried me even before I’d actively made the decision and when I saw him standing in front of me, all soft and worried, remnants of make-up lingering on his face, I all but fell into his arms. I only realised that there was something in his hand when he struggled to hug me back.

“Alright, on the bed you go, I’ve got you a hot chocolate and there’s a few pieces of chocolates in the pocket of my hoodie unless you’ve just crushed them.”

And just like that, I broke out into tears once again.

Oli ushered me on the bed, making sure I was tucked in nicely as I sat against the headboard before sliding under the blanket himself, his warmth immediately transferring to me. He handed me the mug, which felt like pure love between my fingers, and then scattered a few individually wrapped chocolates in front of us. When I leaned into him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders as if it had always meant to.

“Talk to me, love,” Oli whispered into your hair and it was all it took for my worries to pour out of me. Well, most of them. The mess in my head about Noah and him stayed hidden, tucked away in the fathers corners of my brain.

Oli held me close, letting me talk and talk and drop tears on his hoodie until I’m all cried out.

“How long have you known?”

“About the roommate situation? This afternoon. The job thing… well, it’s been an ongoing problem.”

He squeezed my body against his and for a moment it felt like he squeezed at least some of the pain away. I didn’t tell him that, but I buried my face a little deeper into his neck.

“Have you talked to your parents? Moving back home and asking for help is probably the last thing you want to do, but, you know…”

The question is enough to let tears well up again. So much for being cried out.

“I…” I swallowed, trying to force the lump in my throat to disappear. “I don’t speak to them anymore.”

Oli pushed me away a little bit, just enough to see my face, but still holding onto me.

“What happened?”

Somehow, the fact that he sounded genuinely shocked made it worse.

“It turns out, dating a girl was enough for my father to assume the devil had gotten into me. And my mother just follows whatever he says. So now the only contact I have with them is my father sending my mails about how to return to the good side of life and renounce the evilness that is being queer and me deleting them unseen.”

“Fuck, Aubrey, why didn’t you tell me?”

Why didn’t I tell him? I wasn’t so sure anymore, now. I knew we had drifted apart a little over the past year, keeping in contact but never actually seeing each other. I should have trusted him more.

Oli’s hand was gentle on my face as he moved my head toward him and pressed a short kiss to my lips. “Fuck them. We’re in this together, yeah? We’ll figure it out. Promise.”

And somehow, I believed him.