#I would've done the whole body; but I wanted to so it in one sitting. One day... one day...

[manasurge]

(Just reposting this here from the server) My revenge gift art for @wyldblunt for drawing my girl so good!!!!! Q///Q.

Anywho I ADORE Daimhin and her gorgeous Mordrem design, and had been wanting to draw her for a while, so I took advantage of this lkjdfs. I also just feel so bad for him and want to be his friend 😭

[lambilegs]

getting acquainted with the dildo: attempt #1

contains: sevika teaching reader how to suck the strap, dry humping (reader doing it on sev's thigh), friends with (resolved, thank god) tension, slight humiliation kink, a bit of a spit kink, teasing, inexperienced reader, implied age gap (both reader and sevika are adults), sevika calls reader "kiddo" teasingly, reader's body is referred to w/ the following terms: "pussy," "clit," "cunt"

when you tell sevika that you've never used a strap-on before, you nearly beg some higher force to let the ground swallow you whole. you two have been friends forever, but lately, it's undeniable that some sort of molten desire has been pooling at the center of what you have. maybe it was always there, and had just been in denial. but, it's undeniably present now, impossible to ignore, thick and heavy in the air, lining every interaction with a sort of hot lava.

and it's made confessions like this, ones filled with sexual secrecy and exposed desires, carry a lot more weight than they did prior. you're pretty much confiding in a woman who you're aching to have sex with about just how much experience she should and shouldn't expect of you. it's way more vulnerable, and it feels like you're spoiling her prematurely by peeling away sexual secrets that in a different circumstance, one with just regular dating, she would've discovered on her own in the context of wanting to have sex with you. but, doing it in a friendship, when you don't even know for sure what she feels, is more uncertain. it's farther away from the line of actual romance and desire, and therefore feels risker to admit. because if your inexperience deters her, maybe she'll easily dismiss and rid herself of any attraction she might've once harboured for you, since it'd be simpler to as just friends.

so, to say the least, you're scared when confessing this secret to her.

at least, that's until you see the way her lip curls up when, while laying on her couch, you confess that you're nervous about one day using the strap due to never having done it before. she seems equal parts intrigued and amused by the revelation. from where she sits, picking at one of the screws in her arm, she asks, tone low, steady, "well, do you feel ready?"

"I don't know." you stare up at the ceiling, for the thought of maintaining eye contact through this conversation is a bit too unnerving for your liking. "I mean, I'm sure everyone feels... not ready when they start using it, right?"

she shrugs. "maybe. to a degree. but, you don't need to push yourself if it really scares you." her voice has turned tentative, face absent of the initial mischief. with the way she angles herself away from you, it seems that she's somewhat uncomfortable with giving such earnest advice.

"thanks for the sex-ed," you laugh, trying to ease the mood some.

"well, considering I've actually worn the strap and you've barely touched it, you could use all the advice you can get."

you try not to visibly tense up at the casually tossed comment. you knew sevika has used a strap, of course you did. you've been at her apartment enough times to catch sight of her lube or dildos (because, yes she has several) scattered about. but, god, the idea of it taut on her pelvis, ready to be used to pump into you, has your thighs tightening.

"well, then, oh-wise-one, what would be your advice?"

she shrugs, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before saying, "getting acquainted with it. with things like sucking, touching, you know."

"sucking?"

"yeah." the corner of her lip quirks up as she raises an eyebrow at you. "never done that either?"

you feel your face warm, feeling awfully pathetic under her pointed gaze, years of experience behind it. "no." you groan, swiping a hand across your face. "god, I'm gonna be so horrible at it when I first do it."

"then, practice."

you scoff. "with who?"

"by yourself?" she drawls, casting you an incredulous look as though she aims for you to question your own stupidity.

you huff, turning away. "I can't do it on my own, how will I know if I'm even doing it right?"

"then, I don't know," she sighs exasperatedly, lighting her cigar. "someone you trust, I guess. someone who wants their dick wet."

"the only person I know who wants to get their dick wet is you," you snap, a petulant part of you hoping you can embarrass her as much as she does with you.

her lips wrap around the tip of the cigar, that scar on the bottom one seeming to deepen. it's almost entrancing, hooking your eyes in and leaving you resistant to its power.

you only snap out of the spell when she says, "is that your way of asking for it to be me?"

the words have your lips parting before you can force them shut. what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you're well-aware of the tension that's been there between you two, of course you are. but, you never imagined that sevika would actually initiate anything. sure, she's flirted here and there, and you're convinced she's started purposely mentioning stopping at babette's for the sole purpose of making you jealous (after all, she always has such a shit-eating grin whenever you fidget or glare at her in response). but, still, it's never amounted to an actual offer, an actual step over the threshold between friendship and, well, something else.

you know it's the more responsible decision to say no, and shut this down before things get complicated. or at least until you clear up whatever it is you guys consider yourselves to be in relation to each other, and if it's something that carries as much emotion to her as it does to you.

but, part of you wants to give into the throb between your legs, the thick tension crackling in the air, the way her gaze is resting on you calmly, as though debating whether or not she should pounce. and god, you want her to, itching with curiosity as to what she'd say if you teased back.

and so, you do. "why, are you offering?"

you get a world of satisfaction from the way she coughs at the question, puffs of smoke blowing from her mouth as she roughly clears her throat. beneath it all, though, is a very apparent underbelly of nerves in your stomach, tingling in anticipation for her answer.

when she finally sets the stupid thing down, giving her lungs a well-deserved break, she says, "why, do you want me to?"

you grit your teeth, a spark of irritation set aflame from this back-and-forth. you wish she could treat you with the courage she does anyone else, just answering your question then sweeping you off your feet with no action required of you. but, no, she just has to be cautious, and hesitant, and sweet. today, of all times.

you sigh. you suppose it's on you to end this game. your chest is tight with anxiety, the words about to roll off your tongue heavy and filled with consequence. but, you push through, anyways. if you remain vague, she will too. if you say no, you may lose your chance with her for god knows how long. so, the only option is: "fine, yes."

immediately, regret weighs upon you, sinking down into your guts. you shift, eyes pointed down to your knees, trying not to panic, when a small huff meets your ears.

it's sevika. sevika chuckling.

your eyes tentatively raise up to her, nails digging into the plush of the cushioned seat you're on. her small, endearing gap flashes as she shakes her head slowly, her laughter sounding split between amused and incredulous, bordering on a scoff.

you feel nearly glued to your spot when her eyes finally rest upon you, the grey shine in them wrapping around you and pulling, pulling and pulling.

she leans back in her couch, spreading her legs out. "well, then, hop on, kiddo."

and that's how you wind up on her thigh, her arm wrapped around your torso as you fist at the fabric taut over her broad shoulders. her mechanic hand squeezes into the silicone balls of a dildo, eyes stuck on your lips as she traces the tip over them. your breaths are heaving with anticipation as she strokes the head along the inside plush of your lips, getting the bulb of it wet and slick with your spit. the experience is exhilarating, for you know she's capable of going harder than this, of fucking your throat raw. but, no, she wants to take her time with you, draw out every drop and dribble of pleasure for the both of you.

"who knew you had it in you?" she muses with a raspy laugh.

before you can even speak to protest, she slides the entire head in, capturing your voice and transforming it into a broken, wanton moan of surprise. her eyes practically gleam at that, and she slides the dildo out of your mouth's confines with a pop before sliding the tip back in. your lips latch on automatically, hugging around the head and letting it roll around the flat of your tongue. despite the sheer anxiety of having sevika's attentive eyes on you, the motions of her push-and-pull into your mouth is almost -- well, relaxing? the repetitiveness of it, the way it gives you something to direct all your five senses to as it lolls about in your mouth, your lips tightening and loosening -- it makes your brain feel softened, hazy, lost in this.

"ah, look at that," she coos, her tone hushed and sharpened with an edge of mockery. "sucking on that like that's all you're good for."

the playful degradation makes your clit fucking throb, and without meaning to, your hips automatically jerk forward, the firmness of her thigh making your eyes nearly roll back.

"oh, someone liked that," sevika mutters.

her thigh suddenly bucks up, sending you bouncing on her lap and nearly toppling over if not for her muscular arm steadying you. the pressure against your pussy makes you whine around the toy, your lips stretching open to release the noise only has her pushing it in deeper, nearly a quarter of it now sliding up and against your tongue.

"suck it in and out, just like that," she whispers, her eyes burning into your skin as she intently watches you. you try to follow her directions, but your sucks are too eager, too fast, and sevika reaches her hand up and gently grabs your jaw, coaxing it into fluid motions that has the dildo being softly pressed and released by your lips' grip, over and over and over again.

you know this is a horrible idea, a fact that only becomes more punctuated with every thrust of the toy into your mouth. you know you should've had some more self-control, and should've put a stop to this inane idea before it had manifested into a reality. but, no, you just had to think with your pussy, and now look where it's landed you? on your friend's, a good, loyal, helpful friend's, lap, practically rutting like you're in heat and sucking dick with zero technique.

"when that gets a bit too repetitive, you can lick it." she abruptly yanks the dildo from your mouth, and an embarrassing wad of spit stretches out with it, spilling thickly down your chin. your face is practically burning from the heat of humiliation, but sevika doesn't seem to mind, only smirking and saying, "now, I was gonna tell you you can get messy with it, but you're a step ahead."

now that your mouth is finally freed, at least you get to spit out, "you're such a dick," as though your pussy isn't practically leaking with arousal.

"oh, so you suck off any asshole, then?"

"maybe I will once you're done with this lesson," you haughtily snap back.

her eyes narrow at that, but she says nothing to it, smacking the tip lightly against your mouth. "open."

despite your snapping, and much to your annoyance, your mouth immediately goes slack, falling open for her.

"tongue out, now."

you obey, sticking it out.

she snorts, shifting in her seat as she raises the dick to you. "such a little sub."

you roll your eyes at her words, jerking when she grabs your jaw, forcing you to face her. "keep those eyes on me."

your pussy clenches down on nothing. god, you need her. not that you'd ever admit it -- the last thing she needs is another ego stroke.

"show me how you'd lick this."

giving you so much control causes your confidence, however little you had of it, to waver. you hesitate before tentatively stroking the flat of your tongue along the head, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. a tiny burst of pride ripples through you when you see her eyes widen imperceptibly. it's barely there, but you know her well enough to know it wouldn't have happened unless, at the very least, a small part of her was surprised, or maybe even impressed.

the reaction eggs you on, and you do it again, running your tongue along the entire length of the dildo, using the tip to trace along the bulging veins. when that's done, you lap at the head, the flat of your tongue quickly moving along it in steady movements.

when sevika speaks, her jaw is clenched, and the deep breath she takes shudders. "good."

"yeah?" the clear effect you're having on her is most definitely getting to your head, and it makes you desirous to push and prod at her more. "am I being good?" you end the question with a kiss right to the tip.

almost as though sevika is tethered to the toy, she swallows hard at the sight. "yeah," she says, her voice firm. "you're doing good."

the praise has your hips bucking again, and you internally curse at the leverage you've so clearly given her, another wicked smile curling at her lips.

her thigh resumes its actions from before, pumping up to meet your clothed core as her arm grips your waist tightly, keeping you anchored as she encourages you to rub yourself on her. your body acts before your mind can catch up, hips pressing down so that your clit receives some friction through the layers of fabric. you hate to admit it, but sevika's muscled thigh is a perfect helper.

"you can flick your tongue on the tip, too," she says, her voice a lot rougher than it was a few minutes back. you derive some pleasure from it, for even if your resolve is loosening and waning in wake of her touch, at least hers seems to be too.

"how?" you ask, your voice an embarrassing pitch from the desperation accompanying the word. but, as soon as it slips from you, your mind conjures up a single image, and it drives you to ask, "can you show me?"

"you kidding me?"

"no." you bat your eyes, hoping it'll get her more susceptible.

"I'm gonna need a bit more convincing than some pretty eyes."

oh, well, never mind. you deflate physically, though something tickles your stomach at knowing she finds your eyes pretty.

"oh, c'mon, please, sevi," you say, tugging on her arm with a jutted bottom lip.

after a few moments of casting you a deadpan stare, she sighs, tentatively turning the dildo around and raising the head to her mouth. voice warm, so velvety, she murmurs, "like this."

you hold your breath as the tip of her tongue pokes out, flicking along the head of the toy, flapping over it fast and hard. she may not realize it, but she's giving you a crystal clear shot of exactly how she'd look devouring your clit. you pocket the mental image, already knowing you'll pull it out the next time you get off.

when you follow suit, lapping at the tip, your tongue's point making little zig-zag wags, sevika's hand tightens on your hip, and with just one pull, you're back to riding her thigh. the pleasure coursing through your pussy, deep and aching from the pressure, is making you lost in sensation. your eyes flutter close as your hole clenches and your clit swells up, sevika's muscular thigh hard and lovely.

meanwhile, she's easing the toy into your throat, laughing when you gag all over it, spit gushing from your mouth. she's relentless in her practice, just coaxing you to move faster on her thigh as you struggle to accommodate the dildo, pathetic whines tumbling from your mouth everytime she pushes it in and your throat seizes with a choke. it leaves you more sloppy, more wet, more nasty than you were before, saliva trailing down your chin and getting your neck cool and sticky.

sevika's hand slides up your waist, just barely grazing the side of your breast on the way up, before brushing a thumb against the corner of your mouth, wiping away the residue. the touch seems wholly intimate compared to the ones that preceded, especially when she uses the digit to encourage your mouth to open and take the dildo in again. she seems to be more cautious of your limits now, easing it only halfway in. your eyes flutter shut, sucking nonsensically at it, losing yourself to the rhythm as you jut against her thigh faster.

sevika's eyebrows furrow in as you speed up, her breathing laboured, and you nearly giggle around the toy at the evident impact you're having on her. but, that's not all there is to it, for her expression only has a series of more hot, tempting mental images bursting through your mind. her panting like that when thrusting into you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration like that while she lavishes attention all over your soaked cunt.

the thought has you bouncing faster, and sevika growls. actually fucking growls. her hand abandons your face, opting to grip your ass tightly and drag you harder against her. your bud is practically weeping with desire now, desperate to have its wants sated as you grind down harder. the weight of the toy on your tongue, the way your mind is numbed from the bodily chaos of sucking, thrusting, clutching -- it sends you rolling close to your orgasm, just barely teetering on the edge of it.

what finally sends you hurdling past it is how sevika bites her lip when she pulls you forward again, her thigh pumping up and down to meet your thrusts. she looks so concentrated on you, her dark eyes hooded and intense, and the pure want on her face makes you feel so desired, so aroused at the idea of how many ways you can get that expression on her face again. that, paired with another aggressive press from her thigh, and a tight suck on the dildo, sends your body crashing with an orgasm, walls spasming as your thighs go taut. you writhe in her arm, nearly tipping all the way back if it weren't for her catching you and holding you close. your chest presses flush to hers as you tremble like a leaf, clit sopping and stinging in sensitivity as she continues pushing against it.

you whine in protest, slightly lifting your hips, and she immediately takes the hint, slowing her movements to a stop. all the while, you keep sucking on the dildo, the shape of it in your mouth, the way it offers you something to latch onto and ground yourself with, practically addictive.

sevika watches you carefully for a few moments before gently tugging it out, a string of saliva hooked between the head of it and your bottom lip.

you moan in surprise when shr leans in and runs her tongue along your chin, curling it right at your bottom lip, swallowing down the saliva all for herself.

"you're such a mess," she mumbles, sucking languidly at your chin.

"it's not my fault," you grunt, voice raspy from all the noises you made. now that the heat of the moment has worn off, the searing burn of embarrassment begins to imprint itself on you. god, you were so loud, so desperate, so--

"you looked good."

you lick your lips, some of the nerves calming. "yeah?"

"don't let it get to your head."

"that's true, I already had my fair share of head for today."

her eyebrow raises at you in a distinct lack of amusement. "you're lucky you're cute."

your stomach sizzles with oh-so-stupid butterflies. god, why does she have this much of an impact on you? and it's so effortless on her end too, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

"you think I'm cute?" you ask, forcing your tone to sound teasing so she doesn't realize just how earnest you are.

when she falls silent for a few moments, you tense up, wondering if she can tell how serious you are.

"who's the one leaking through my favourite pants right now?"

or maybe not. face twisted into a cringe, you grip her shoulders to stumble into a standing position, her hand still loosely hanging by your waist. "on that note, I think I'll go wash up."

her fingers dig with a bit more pressure into your skin, and to your shock, she says, voice gruff, "not just yet. just sit for now."

you let her tug you back into her lap, your arms immediately winding around her neck. "what for?"

she shrugs. "just comfortable." her eyes finally lift to you, and it's like you could plummet to the ground with how swept over her steady gaze makes you feel.

"was it not you who just made made that stupid pants comme--"

"do I need to get the dildo again?"

you burst into laughter, eyes crinkling as you shake your head at her. "is that gonna be your go-to whenever I piss you off now?"

"amongst other possibilities." her fingertips ghost your waist, and you shiver.

other possibilities? you know it's not the smartest thing to dwell on -- after all, she might've just said casually with no serious intent. but, sill, your stomach warms from something you had been trying your best to avoid this entire interaction.

hope.

but, when she touches your waist like that, and seems to struggle to remove her hand from you as you walk away, you can't resist the little part of you of that whispers, maybe it's warranted.

but, you don't want to get ahead of yourself. so, you keep it at just a maybe.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Yandere! Kidnapper

warnings: captivity, forced infantilization, nonconsensual themes, physical violence, drugging, collaring, stalking, dead dove: do not eat

—becomes increasingly more unhinged, lowkey inspired by a disturbing manga I accidentally read twice, so take that as you will.., so yeah that's my last post of 2024, happy 2025 people!

©Copyright -2024- thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Y! Kidnapper that hunts you through the forest and tackles you to the ground after an escape attempt only to scold and berate you for every little scrape on your body, as if it wasn't his fault in the first place, as if you're just too clumsy for your own good.

Y! Kidnapper that never would do anything sexual without consent, but doesn't take no for an answer when you tell him you don't want him to bathe you—you are his, so of course he will rub you clean, even the spot between your legs.

Y! Kidnapper who tells you his entire day, everything, as if you're his lifeless oversized doll, only to pinch your nipples whenever he asks a question, daring you to answer and enjoys your torment in staying quiet and pliant for him

Y! Kidnapper who sits you down, clips even your toenails for you, kneads your sore muscles from doing nothing all day, carries you everywhere, doesn't even let your feet catch callous from walking on them, only to treat you absolutely diabolical in bed, branding each inch of skin he took such good care of either with his hand, a belt or whatever he gets his hands on..

Y! Kidnapper who's obsessed with providing warm meals for you, the highest quality ingredients are used—everything to accommodate your sensitive gut, only to drug you out of your mind and giggle while doing nothing else but cuddle you while watching TV and popping chips in his mouth, all while commenting on the script of the particular horror movie he’s watching and listing thousand of things he would've done better than the director

Y! Kidnapper who before capturing you was the weirdest fucking stalker in existence— openly groping you, offering you food with a smile (mind you he’s a complete stranger???), appearing in front of your doorstep at night to holler at you, banging his fists on your door and actively breaking in only to stare at your sleeping form while jacking off. Did I also mention he would email you like you're his secret rendezvous? Oh and he went along and introduced himself to your whole family with a fake identity over email (like—wtf is whatsapp?), hahaha..

Y! Kidnapper who wants to control every single aspect of your life—from how you pluck your brows to when you're allowed to use the restroom. Will literally stare you down with a hand on the chain connected to your collar, that he forced on you after your latest escape attempt, while you're pants are pooling at your feet and you’re trying to pee. (Why? Because the window is a few feet away..)

Y! Kidnapper from who, let's be honest here, you will only ever escape in death and that will probably be in old age, with how well he takes care of you, having baby proofed his home enough to ensure that you couldn't hurt yourself even on accident and don't even think about using a razor! he will do that for you, just sit down in the bathtub, all drugged out of your mind, dumb and drooling, losing touch with reality, while he does everything for you

—just be his passive little kitten he declawed, and that's enough for him, just dependent on him and he will paint your cage gold, even if the paint will chip away one day

[jeansjolly]

You stare at your manager a little too long. Who could blame you? He's just that hot. If you told yourself this just happened, you would've slapped yourself across the face.

☁︎ cw: office setting, smut, pwp, fem!reader, f!oralsex, tongue fuck, ass-eating, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, getting fucked/eaten out from behind, he has a big dick, creampie.

☁︎ wc: 2.9k

☁︎ inspired by this audio

☁︎ a/n: sorry if it's a little messy, I did proofread by myself but ehh wtv, enjoy :)

— 18+, mdni

“Excuse me?” You inch closer to him, holding your laptop with both hands.

“Mhmm?” He nods, hands in his pockets, watching you as you approach.

Gosh. You want to just kiss him right now.

“So…” you trail off, fingers resting on the laptop’s mouse pad as you tilt the screen slightly toward him. “I’ve got just the right idea for how we should promote our upcoming products.”

You click a bit more on the screen. “I had a few discussions during our ‘unofficial’ team meeting, and they suggested we create more content on social media apps to engage customers. And as you can see…” You press play on the video on your laptop.

You show a draft of you and your team making videos to promote the products. His shoulders slump a little as he tries to focus on the screen, so you lift the laptop a bit higher. Your eyes flicker to his, and you almost cringe as he watches with full judgment.

With his body so close, you catch a whiff of his perfume– a hint of sandalwood and oud. The faint scent convinces you he definitely wears expensive fragrances.

He hums and circles his pointer finger over your screen. “This is neat. I’ll write the letter to the higher-ups.”

Your eyes widen. “No– it’s okay! That’s my job anyway. I’m just asking for approval, that’s all.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Hey, it’s fine! It’s a good idea. You’ve done your part.”

Your eyebrows scrunch as you begin to bicker with him. One thing about you, you definitely love to argue with your crushes.

He sighs and raises both hands in surrender. “Okay, how about this? Let’s do it together.”

That makes your mouth fall open slightly.

You chuckle nervously. “Are you even sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

He lifts a hand and gently places it behind your back, guiding you toward his corner office. Just the thought of entering his office makes your stomach twist– in a good way.

When you both reach his office, enclosed with glass walls, he twists the knob and you step inside. Once the door shuts, the sounds from outside become muffled and fade away.

He swivels his office chair toward you and gestures to the seat across from him. “Please.”

You hesitantly plop down into the chair, knowing full well that even if you try to argue, he’ll stay firm in his stance.

Now sitting beside you on a cushioned stool, he taps the spacebar on his keyboard to wake up his computer.

He grabs the mouse, dragging it across the desk as he clicks into Word. A few clicks later, a pre-made template appears on the screen.

Your eyes widen. No wonder he was so eager to write it for you– he already had a whole template ready.

“Geez,” you snicker. “No wonder you’re so eager to write this.”

He passes you the mouse, resting his cheek on his palm. “Been doing this for a while.”

You reach for the mouse, dragging it across the screen toward the template text.

What should have been a ten-minute task turns into forty minutes of non-stop bickering between you and him.

“That’s too casual,” You say plainly.

“You’re too casual. I’ve been–”

“‘I’ve been doing this for years,’” you cut in, lowering your voice to mimic him. “Just like you said. But in the end, I’m the one who has to put my name and sign it.”

He smirks. “Who says it’s going under your name?”

“Excuse me?” you exclaim, slamming your fist lightly on the desk– just enough to rattle a few things. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled the manager card on you yet, considering how often your voice rises when he snickers at your reactions.

You tilt your head toward him. He still has one hand on his cheek, grinning at you. Then, with his other hand, he curls his fingers outward toward the screen.

“Go on.” He says.

You sigh as you type. He leans over and asks, “When you write it in your own style, do the higher-ups actually approve it?”

Your fingers pause above the keyboard before you resume typing. “Sometimes. I mean, of course, they don’t agree with everything.”

He hums at your answer. Just as he gestures toward the screen and starts to speak, you cut him off.

“What? No, I’m not adding slang!”

“No,” he says, closing the distance between you and him as he points at the first row of names. “I should be listed first. I’m the manager, you know.”

There it is. This time, you give in. “You’re right.” You hit backspace, removing a teammate’s name and replacing it with his.

As you type the final words on the last page, you glance at him and raise an eyebrow at him.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment before he looks at the screen and clicks his tongue with a smirk. “I’m just messing around, you know.”

You grumble as you type your name at the complimentary close of the letter.

Once you finish, you swivel your chair to face him.

“I’ll print these out later. In the meantime, I’ll let the team know you’re considering the idea,” you say, rising from your seat.

“Mhmm,” he hums, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll walk you there.”

“How noble of you.”

He scoffs. “Well, with a beautiful woman in my office, sitting in my chair like that. How could I let her walk alone?”

Your jaw drops slightly. Did he really just say that? You shut your mouth quickly and tilt your head.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He leans in closer. “Been doing it for the past 50 minutes. Thanks for finally noticing.”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Looking away, you mutter, “Well… I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

He tilts his head to meet your gaze, grinning. “Is that so?”

He takes your hands in his and closes the gap between you. When you look up to him, his tongue swipes on his bottom lip, moistening it. You feel his hands slide around your waist, and you stop him immediately.

“There’s a single-user restroom on the way there.”

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

You press the lock button on the bathroom door, and as you turn around, his lips crash into yours. One arm wraps around his neck, while the other trails up to his chest, your lips moving in sync with his.

Your head spins– you're kissing him. And god, he’s a really good kisser. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting yours in a heated dance. His hands grip your waist tightly before he pulls back, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He pulls you further into the bathroom. His lips drag to your neck leaving wet kisses.

“Turn around,” he commands.

Your mind buzzes with arousal as you follow his instructions. You plant your palms against the bathroom wall, and you hear him shifting behind you. When you glance back, he’s already on his knees.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slightly confused.

His hands rest on your ass, and he looks up at you with a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m an ass guy, if you don’t mind,” he admits.

“Oh!” you squeak, turning your head toward the wall in embarrassment. “No– well, sure…” is all you manage to say.

Slowly, he lifts your pencil skirt, bunching it at your waist. His fingers hook the waistband of your panties and slide them down to your ankles. He grips your waist and gently parts your legs, causing your back to arch.

His hands spread your cheeks, giving him a better view of your most intimate part. One thumb drags from your puckered entrance down to the folds of your pussy, then both thumbs move to spread you open.

“Cute,” he murmurs from behind.

His tongue wastes no time, immediately dragging along your folds and lapping at your entrance. You moan at the sensation as he pushes his tongue inside your pussy, curling it deep within you.

“Haa…” you gasp when he pulls back and trails his tongue down to your clit, flicking it expertly over your most sensitive spot. He alternates between licking your pussy and moving his mouth higher, until his tongue lays flat against your asshole and begins to swirl against it.

You call out his name as you pant, your voice a mixture of surprise and pleasure. You turn your head, catching his eyes locked onto yours as he plants wet, deliberate kisses on your sensitive rim. Before you can fully process it, his tongue slips past the tight ring of your ass.

“Such a cute hole,” He says as he pulls his tongue out before darting back in.

You gasp, your eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure ripple through you. His tongue works you relentlessly, eating your ass out with such intensity that you can’t help but cry out his name again and again.

“Keep doing that… haa…” you moan, eyes squeezed shut. One hand finds your dripping pussy, plunging two fingers inside while the other circles your clit, desperate to reach your climax.

Your mind goes hazy– the pleasure too overwhelming to think straight. Then, with a loud moan, your vision goes white as you finally fall over the edge, orgasm tearing through you in blinding ecstasy.

He gives your ass one last kiss before getting to his feet. You hear the rattle of his belt as he pulls out his cock. He slaps your ass, and you whine at the sting.

“Ready to take my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, tilting his head toward you, his hands resting on your hips.

You huff, “Just fuck me already.” You plant your hands back on the wall, looking at him from over your shoulder.

He moves one hand from your hip to guide his cock into your pussy. You gasp as he slowly pushes in.

“Wait– fuck,” you breathe, stopping him for a moment to accommodate his thick girth. He’s not even halfway in, and you already feel like you’re being split open.

You spread your legs wider, whining nervously, then nod for him to keep going. He begins to move, dragging his cock in, drilling into you. The feeling of him inside has you moaning and cursing under your breath. It makes you feel hazy as the pain of his stretching is replaced easily with endless pleasure.

“You feel so good, baby,” he moans, watching his cock disappear into your pussy.

When you feel his hips flush against your ass, you instinctively grind back against him, letting out a soft mewl. Breathing heavily, you murmur, “You're so big…” Your teary eyes lock with his as you whine, “Go slow, okay?”

He only groans in response, beginning to thrust into you at a steady pace. You moan and mutter curses as his thick cock pushes deep into your tight pussy.

“Taking me so fucking well. Fuck, you're so tight,” he growls.

You manage a breathy chuckle between moans. “Yeah?” you hum, lips curling into a teasing smile until it fades into a gasp as he suddenly quickens his pace. You hiss, eyes rolling back, as he grips your hips tighter and fucks you harder.

The sound of skin slapping and his groans, along with your moans, echoes through the restroom. “Feels so good… so good…” you babble incoherently, panting as his cock hits that perfect spot deep within your spongy walls.

“Yeah, you like that? Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Taking my cock so well. You love it, don't you?”

You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as tears stream down your face. “Yes! I love it. Oh, fuck, please, please, please…”

Waves of pleasure hit back to back with him buried balls-deep inside you. Your blood feels like it pumps only into your pussy as he pounds you from behind. You cry out when he suddenly pulls out completely. Looking up at him, you breathe heavily.

“Why did you stop?” you whine.

With his hands on your hips, he turns you around and leans in, his mouth close to your ear. “At least let me see your face when I fuck my cum into you.”

He helps untangle your panties from around your ankle, scrunching them into his fist.

You shudder as he places his large hands under your thighs and lifts you up. One arm hugs your waist, the other guiding his cock back into your aching pussy. Once the tip is in, he holds you tight and thrusts forward hard.

You moan breathlessly, brushing the bangs from his face. He breathes heavily with you, and your lips crash into his, tongues tangling.

You moan into his mouth, then pull back slightly. “I'm close, I'm close!”

He pants, jerking his hips faster. “Yeah, fuck.” You almost scream when he slams in deep, cock kissing your cervix.

“Let me shoot my cum into you, yeah?” he groans, his hips moving fast and sloppy.

“Yes! Cum inside me, fuck. Fuck–!” Your eyes roll back as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave.

He gasps, thrusting deep as he releases inside you, shooting his warm load into your tight pussy.

You grip his shoulders as both of you catch your breath, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. You chuckle and tap his shoulder.

“Put me down,” you say, cupping his cheek and giving him a kiss on top of it.

As he sets you down, he instinctively lifts one of your legs to glance at the mess between your thighs. Your pussy clenches as white liquid drips down from your sore hole. He let's out a breathy laugh. “Beautiful.”

You scoff, grabbing a few tissues and sitting on the toilet bowl. When he keeps staring at you, you ask him to turn around so you can pee and clean yourself.

He shoves both hands into his pockets and turns his head slightly. Before you can snap at him for peeking, he quickly says, “I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply, crouching slightly to wipe the cum off your legs.

“I’ll see you around.”

He closes the bathroom door, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As you finish cleaning up, something clicks in your mind. Shit.

He walks away from the bathroom, smirking as he pulls one hand from his pocket and pats the top of it– your panties safely tucked inside of his dress pants.

JEAN kirstein, eren yeager, reiner braun, NANAMI kento, gojo satoru, NAOTO tachibana, hanma shuji + your favs

[mimipolo]

Nam-gyu x GN!reader headcanons

I started writing just because I had so many scenarios of him in my head I needed to get out so tysm for liking my last post.

No this is not proof read, I MIGHT edit it later.

This man is horribly clingly to an extreme. Will hold onto anything in reach clothes, arm, shoulder. Honestly anywhere you'll allow him to. He won't touch the obvious places that would vouch for consent but he'd definitely be eager if you say he could.

And if you're someone's that's not into being constantly touched all the time he'd try his best to respect that but there'll definitely be moments when he reaches out for you and stops midway or his hand brushes you briefly. At some point he can't take it and takes a different route by standing so close your shoulders touch or instead urging you to initiate.

I feel like he takes care of his hands the best, his hair is choppy and his apartment is a state but he'll always make time to trim and take care of his nails. You asked him about it before and he just said he bites his nails a lot and didn't further explain why.

He seems like the type to be jittery a lot even when he's not high, in fact I think his hands would possibly shake less when he is. His hands shaking doesn't always necessarily means he's nervous but if you take them in yours to comfort him he'd definitely milk the hell out of it and hold out his hands to you expecting you to run your thumbs over them, that playful grin he always wears when he knows he's about to get what he wants on his face as he tilts his head at you.

Jealousy is in his top three emotions. He's far from perfect unfortunately and his possessiveness is definitely one of those defining traits. He would casually bring up bad things a person you're getting close to has done (like he's any better). Rubbing your back and preaching about how you should just stick with him.

Likes it if you run your hands down his back and sides, at first he found it annoying because of how ticklish it felt but shut up when you pointed out how hypocritical he was being. Being the fraud he is he quickly grew to like it, slumping his body over yours and as always expects to receive the embrace.

Lets you cut his hair, it's honestly the least of his concerns, is what he tells you at least. Sometimes you'll catch him picking at his hair in the reflection for too long. He's sat on the floor of your bathroom as you sit on the bathtub rim facing the mirror, his eyes are trained on your hands the whole time and he just couldn't help constantly making distracting pointers, a nudge to his side earns you a scoff before he eventually just let's you work.

Would constantly be twirling your hair if he's on call, he's persistent. If you have short hair or bald he'd scratch your scalp or nape of your neck, anything nearest to him.

He'd genuinely be happy if you initiated touch, even if it's not in public. He just liked the knowledge that you also like him enough to reciprocate.

This guy definitely has a staring problem, usually on your side or back profile but sometimes he zeroes in on random places that make you raise an eyebrow at him or push his head away flustered. And no you can't stare at him back he'll start blubbering about something that doesn't make sense and rubs his hands together to ease the nerves.

Defends you quietly, anyone that has talked behind your back gets confronted away from you. Obviously if they insult you in front of him he's swearing and throwing out threats he can't stand up to. If he wins (if) he'd try to act cool as he shrugs and wipes the blood from his nose and nudges you playfully, scolding you for "always getting him in trouble."

Absolutely insufferable during movies, won't shut up. Constantly pointing out bad acting or something he would've done in the characters position. Will only be quiet if you take charge of feeding him popcorn when you can tell he's about to yap, the instinct comes naturally after being around him for so long. Only times you'll mostly let him talk is during tense scenes in horror movies, it's alright then as he talks your ear off about random stuff in the movie that's somehow not relevant. Your eyes screwed with anxiety to the screen as he laughs and pulls you closer to his side (he starts talking to calm himself down because he's just as scared.)

Likes how warm your stomach is, always coming up behind you just to lay his cold hands on your stomach, causing you to jolt because he's like freezing?? He only chuckles and presses himself closer against you as he squeezes your sides. It's almost as if he knows how annoying he is.

Whenever you two lie in bed there's always a moment where he's lying on your chest, he honestly just looks thoughtless as he stares into the gap where your shirt meets your collarbone. Sighs heavily like a burdens been lifted when he smooth your palm over his hair and kiss his temple. You always fall asleep before him, I honestly believe he's an insomniac or at least has some problems sleeping, he's content just lying on you as you doze off though.

If you had a specific or unique style he'd admire it a lot. Honestly proud because he can't be asked to put the same effort into himself. If you do dress him up he'll feel good for a moment before feeling like an imposter and taking it off. The only accessories he has are his necklace and rings (you complimented them once and he hasn't thought of going back since.)

As much as he refuses to admit other people's views and opinions of him are a big part of his life. And after so many negative comments about himself he didn't see the point in trying to change it, instead he indulged in all the guilty pleasures they accused him of because what did he have to lose? But any kind words you give him he hangs onto like a life line, even just saying his name correctly has him hooked(Thanos...). He'll act all smug as you praise him, nodding and grinning while his ears flush red.

He also loves your hands. Kissing the tips, knuckles, pulse joint, everywhere. Makes you involuntary hold his face or put your hands on him. Likes seeing your hands intwined a lot, it feels solidifying.

Geekiest smile ever oh my days. He always looks so intimidating when he's outside but the moment another person (especially you) enters his bubble he's all smiles and chuckles, ducking his head softly as his hand covers his mouth. He could not handle being alone for too long.

The type of guy to randomly show up outside your apartment with takeaway with no warning and fully expects you to let him in, he knows you don't go out so it's the least you could do. Is already a foot inside your doorway when you finally open the door when you stop him, hand on your hip as you look him up and down.

"Since when did you have takeaway money?"

"Do you not wanna eat? Damn just let me in."

Chat can you tell I adore him 🤓

[kuurechr]

Note : This can be read as a standalone but it's technically a sequel to this

"You sure this fits me?" Sukuna asked, pulling at his tie.

You groaned. "I just helped you put that on, 'Kuna!" You made him sit back down so you could help him again. "And you look great. If it was really that tight, you wouldn't be breathing."

Sukuna huffed, and raised his head so you could help out with his tie. He didn't really need your help, he was raised by two older men – he knew how to tie a tie. But one time when he was struggling, you helped him out because you assumed he didn't know how. And since then, he liked how you did it better.

"When are you getting ready?" Sukuna asked, eyeing your hair and outfit – you were in sweatpants and a tank top and your hair nor your makeup was done yet.

"Once you're done," you finished up with his tie and he moved to get up but you put a hand on his shoulder, wordlessly ordering him back down. You grabbed some gel and ran it through his hair. Sukuna sighed, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hands through his hair.

It was moments like these that he liked being human – moments with you.

"Okay, all done," you grinned, kissing his forehead. "You're all handsome."

Sukuna grinned, grabbing your chin, and bringing you into a kiss. You whined, hitting his shoulder. "What?" Sukuna asked. "I gotta kiss you before you don't let me cause 'it'll ruin your makeup.'" Sukuna's voice lilted as he mocked you.

You frowned at him. "I do not sound like that."

"Yeah," he snorted. "You sound dumber."

You pinched his arm, and walked over to your bed, grabbing your phone. "You have to drop me off at Kaori's place."

"Huh?" Sukuna frowned. "Why?"

"I'm her maid of honour," you reminded him, "You'd think I would've been there last night, but nooo, you needed me here with you overnight."

Sukuna rolled his eyes. "Okay, you're putting words in my mouth – I just didn't want you getting your head filled with her stupid thoughts."

You looked up from your phone. "I thought you were fine with her now?"

Sukuna's lip curled. "You think I'd switch up from hating someone so quickly? My feelings aren't that feeble."

"Of course not," you smiled, nodding. You eyed a message from Kaori, narrowing your eyes on it before looking up at Sukuna again. "'Kuna?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been to a wedding before?"

Sukuna scoffed. "No, woman, at my ripe age of 21, I haven't set foot near a chapel." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Alright, alright, no need to get feisty," you quipped. "Kaori just wanted me to remind you that you shouldn't let Jin see her before their big moment. It's really important to her."

"What does she think I am, stupid?" Sukuna scowled. "'Course I know that!"

You pulled Sukuna outside of the venue to get some fresh air.

"Wasn't that beautiful?" You sighed, leaning against the brick wall.

"What?"

You looked at him, eyebrows knitting. "Don't give me that. The whole ceremony! Their vows – I was about to cry but I remembered how nice my makeup looked."

Sukuna scoffed. He didn't really pay attention to the ceremony much. He zoned out as he stared at you, on Kaori's other side, your smile so radiant that whatever dress Kaori had picked out couldn't compete.

"I hate these westernized weddings," Sukuna grumbled. "This is Japan!"

"Oh, isn't that old-timey of you?" you teased, grinning up at him. He stood next to you, letting his back rest against the wall as well. It hurt your neck to look up at him, so you lowered your head, looking down at your footwear next to each other. You took in another deep breath of the cool air. "What type of wedding do you want, then?"

Sukuna looked down at your head. All he could see was the top of it. "What're you thinking about that for? We're barely adults."

"I didn't ask about us," you clarified, looking up at him again. "I asked what you want."

Sukuna ran pretty hot – his body was always warm. But he felt his temperature rise as he got slightly embarrassed. Stupid human body. He cleared his throat. "Who even needs all this? Men used to just visit the woman they wanted for three nights in a row and then there would be a large feast! That's much better than this ceremony – I was about to fall asleep."

"Right, mister traditional man," you scoffed. "Suppose you'd like concubines as well?"

Sukuna tensed at that. You didn't know this, obviously, but you both had fights over that before. His concubines. He killed each and every one of them. And when the guilt ate away at you, you fought with him about that as well.

"So you think wedding ceremonies are stupid?"

Sukuna took a moment. He swore he'd had this conversation with you before.

"No," Sukuna hummed. "Not if it brings a smile to your face."

You chewed at your lip to fight back a smile.

"You're stupid." You let your head fall to the side, resting against his arm.

He snickered. "Love ya too."

[ynsvnte]

Oh! Nerdy Boy! - Lee Heeseung

Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!) fluff, college, classmates to fwb

word count: 1k+

warnings: unprotected sex. Fingering, nipple sucking, pet names creampie. Swearing. Teasing. Kissing

pairing: nerdtutor!hee x fem!reader

Masterlist

You tapped your pen lightly onto the table, stressing over the question. You didn’t get it and recently you’ve been failing this class. Only if you had a tutor. You could just ask the nerdy boy. Lee Heeseung, but you don’t want to seem like a loser.

“I’m failing..do I really have a choice?” You asked yourself. You were desperate to get your grade up. Having someone smart like him wouldn’t be so bad. You get up and start walking towards him. “Hey..” you spoke up. Catching Heeseung’s attention, he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” He said ever so gently. You could melt right away. “So I kind of, well not kind of, I have an offer for you..” you spoke awkwardly. Heeseung hums signaling for you to continue. “I was wondering. If you could perhaps Yknow…umm tutor me..?” You were panicking inside. Please say yes.. you thought to yourself. You were lost in your thoughts, overthinking, heeseung response cut your thoughts off.

“Sure..” Wait, really? you were shocked. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much I’ll make sure to pay you!” Gosh you were so excited, now you don't have to seem like a disappointment to anyone.

And ever since that day heeseung has been tutoring you every week. Your grades were decent, but you still wanted to be near him. Having spent a lot of time together, made you want him closer and closer. You would try to tease him. By of course the classic wearing tiny shorts. That would have your ass barely covered with a tiny tank top, that would barely hold your tits in. Sometimes you wear normal shirts but without a bra leaving your nipples bare free for him to see.

Heeseung of course took notice of your teasing, but he never said anything. Not wanting to seem rude. But after months and months of teasing. He hasn’t done anything yet. And today will be that day. Just like any other day heeseung came over to your place where you both had the tutor sessions. He knocked on your door until you opened. With of course clothes that could barely hide your nude body as a whole. He greets you stepping foot inside and heads to the living room.

“Soo…” Heeseung says, as he sees you reach out for your laptop. He can see your panties. Smirking at the sight of them. You sit back down and open up your laptop. And so the tutor session begins. But not 15 minutes in and you’re already “dropped” your pen so you bend over reaching for it. Giving heeseung a nice view of your ass. So he takes the chance grabbing you by your hips and settles you onto his lap. Pressing his raging boner against your clit.

“You think I wouldn’t notice sweetheart..hm..?” You were speechless.. “Aweee cat got your tongue, you seem so bold to wear such skimpy clothes and yet don’t have anything to say?” He teases you. Fuck you can feel yourself getting wet. “I-I’m sorry..” Pathetic.. Heeseung would've punished you. But you look so cute and all flustered. He grabs you and flips you around, caging you between his arms while you're trapped between him and the sofa. Heeseung begins pulling down your skirt revealing your soaked panties. He also removes your top, leaving you only in your underwear. Heeseung kisses you harshly, making you moan into his mouth. The kiss doesn’t last long before heeseung goes down and starts sucking on your nipples, making you gasp.

“F-fuck..hee-“ heeseung moans onto your chest. He’s busy sucking one while his hands play with the other. Heeseung boner is raging. So he pulls away from your tits. And quickly removes his own clothes. While he’s naked and returns back to you. Gripping you panties..

“Can I?” He asked to which you nodded. He removes your panty. Heeseung smiles at the sight of your cunt. He grazes his finger on top of your cunt, collecting your wetness, before plunging in a finger inside of you. You moan out loud. Already going dumb.

“Hee- fuck feels so good…” you start playing with yours tits. Pleasure taking over your body. You. And feel your high coming really fast. To which made heeseung pull out his fingers, making you whine.

“Ah no no. You won’t be coming on my finger. Instead you’ll be coming on my cock..” Jeez this man. Heeseung grabs his cock and begins stroking the base. Moaning before he gets to your entrance..tip near he looks up at you

“You ready?” You eagerly nodded making him push himself inside of your tight hole. You gasp out loud. His size being a little above average. He still pushes until he’s fully inside of you. He waits waiting for you to get used to his size. He leans in kissing you to make you feel better. He pulls away watching your face for any sign of discomfort. That’s when you speak. “You can move..” and so he does. At first his thrusts were slow. Before he begins to pick up his pace.

“Fuck yn..such a tight little pussy, all for me..” he buries his face into your neck. The sound of skin slapping is so loud the neighbors can probably hear it. Along with your moans. Your eyes are rolling back for too much pleasure. You can feel your high coming again..

“M-hm so close..” you moan.. “Shh hold it longer for a bit…I want to cum together..” you could only nod your head. Enjoying the pleasure of his tip hitting your g-spot over and over. But sooner heeseung can feel that he is close too. “Yn..holy shit I’m close..” he speaks near your ear. He quickened his pace. Making you both moan out loud. And soon enough you feel him fill you up. You moan at the feeling of his cum inside. Also slightly cringing from it leaking out of you. Heeseung is full of sweat, but lies on your chest. Gasping for air.

“That was good…” heeseung said.. to which you only nodded your head too. He looks up at you smiling.. “This isn’t a one time thing right?” He asked you..

“No…why would it be..?” You giggled..

“Good..I loved the way your pussy was sucking me in..” he said shamelessly

“Oh my heeseung!!” You said flushed. He smiled at you enjoying your reaction.

Author’s Note: first ever smut hehe umm it’s 1 am and need to sleep so goodbye I hope you like? I suck at smut sooo bare with me PLEASE!!!

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[ssentimentals]

second chances {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

prompt: time loop (going back in time to fix mistakes)

warnings: angst with a happy ending

wonwoo thinks you never looked more beautiful than right now, standing next to the altar in a wonderful wedding dress. it looks stunning on you, you look stunning and he carefully puts down his glass of whiskey out of fear that he might break it with his grip. your smile is radiant and there are a lot of unthinkable things he's ready to do to have it directed at him. but no, your radiant smile, your sweet voice, your gentle touches - they are for another man, who's standing next to you in a nice suit, face beaming with pride. wonwoo knows he would've been beaming with pride too if he were to marry you.

mingyu taps his shoulder empathetically. 'you good?'

wonwoo snorts loudly, not bothering to dignify this stupid question with an answer. no, he's not good. he's attending wedding of his best friend, who he always loved more than his own life. he's standing next to all other guests instead of standing next to you, all because of his own stupidity and fears. this is what breaks wonwoo the most - the thought that he could've had this. the knowledge, this deeply rooted confidence, that he really could've had this if only-

'slow down, wonwoo'. mingyu tries to snatch another glass of whiskey out of his hands. 'you'll be drunk in no time.'

'sounds good.' wonwoo mutters, swatting mingyu's hand away from his drink. 'i won't survive this without getting drunk.'

mingyu's eyes soften. 'hyung.. don't do it. she just-' mingyu turns to look at you and then back at wonwoo. 'right person, wrong time. you know? or- i don't know, hyung, what's done is done. let it go.'

wonwoo loves mingyu, but he wants to kill him right now for saying all this stupid shit. let you go? wonwoo doesn't know how to do that. he fears he won't be able to let you go even if he tried. how does one let go of your person? of everything you ever dreamt of? wonwoo doesn't know how, so he downs one more glass and signals waiter to bring him another one. he needs to get obnoxiously drunk to be able to look at you in that dress, knowing full well that you're not marrying him. and he follows this plan dutifully, getting so drunk that standing is not an option. for whatever weird reason his head doesn't hurt though; he just feels like something died in his mouth. his heart stopped beating at the same time you said 'yes' in front of all other guests, in front of god and - wonwoo is not okay. he wish he could just cry it out, but he can't. his fingers tremble when he latches for huge bottle of - scotch? vodka? whiskey? - something and pours it into his glass. he's pretty much alone here, everyone else is on the dance floor, enjoying the night that killed wonwoo. or maybe this night didn't kill him? maybe all these others nights, when he didn't make a first step towards you, when he was too afraid to ruin your friendship - maybe all these nights killed him? you two never really got to the point of being single at the same time, can he blame everything on this? can he blame you too, maybe? you surely knew what he was feeling. you surely felt the same, wonwoo knows, he motherfucking knows. but what's the point of it anyways? you just married another man, a man wonwoo will never be and now you'll never be his too. he drinks whatever is in his glass and closes his eyes. if only he could had a second chance. if only.

===

wonwoo wakes up with a gasp. everything about him feels wrong, his head is about to be split in two and his lungs feel like they are about to collapse. breathing in and out in large gulps, wonwoo sits up, clutching at his chest in panic. it takes him full ten minutes to calm down, for his whole body to stop feeling like he's about go in a kill mode. blinking, he looks around and reality kind of doesn't make sense. he is in his room, surely. but he is in his room from five years ago. wonwoo remembers this stolen from minghao's room chair, remembers those posters on the walls and surely remembers this dying lemon tree on the corner of his desk. he pinches himself hard and for a good measure runs to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. nothing changes. when minghao barges into his room, looking like himself but five years younger, wonwoo thinks he's going crazy. minghao, however, looks at him like he's the one who's crazy: 'dude, we're late. why you're still not dressed?'

wonwoo looks down at his old pjs - fucking hell, the ones he wore throughout his whole university - and almost screams. 'what?'

'it's our last year, woo, we talked how we can't fuck this up,' minghao shakes his head and starts furisouly typing on his phone. 'two minutes to get dressed, you know dr.hermos will be on our ass for being late!'

wonwoo dresses automatically, trying to make sense of whatever is happening. it takes him one lecture to figure out in what year and semester he is, two talks with mingyu and minghao to understand general situation and everything is too real for it to feel like a huge prank. wonwoo, somehow, moved five years back. no one else has memories of the future, no one else knows what's going to happen in five years and most importantly-

'woo?' you call his name, waving. 'come to lunch!'

you are here. of course you are, you are his best friend, you two are on the same course, you- wonwoo breathes out. you are single. he knows this for sure, because he remembers this one short time in the span of all these years, when you two were single at the same time. just for one week, but still. wonwoo holds his breath. he doesn't know how he's here, but if this is it, if this is his chance, if universe somehow decided to bless him... wonwoo swallows. he remembers vividly night before - him drunk out of his mind on your wedding. he remembers it. he never wants to experience it again.

'you alright?' you step closer to him, frowning. 'you look kinda out of it.'

wonwoo shakes his head. how can he tell you that he can't believe that you're standing right here in front of him? not married, not taken by a man who's not him? 'didn't sleep well,' he mutters, trying to smile.

'why?' you step closer, worry etched in your features as your hand reaches out to touch his elbow. 'migraines again?'

the thing about going back five years while keeping your memories of all these five years is how wonwoo can't help but feel incredibly stupid. how could he not propose to you within all these years? how could he be so stupid? how could he ever think that someone else will ever make him feel the way you do? 'nothing to worry about,' he assures you, gentle and soft as he always is with you. 'let's go eat.'

it's weird to come back to the last year of university. wonwoo knows it all, sure, but it also feels foreign. being student felt like a distant memory to him and now he's back to discussing lectures and professors, he's back to - wonwoo freezes. he's back to walking you to your dorm, back to eating dinners with you, back to always spending his time with you. his heart speeds up at this realization. wonwoo has no idea how much time he has: this day, this week or even just few hours, but he has to make most of them. he grabs your wrist right when you enter cafeteria, stopping you shortly: 'can we go outside?' he asks hurriedly. 'i need- can we just go outside?'

you look confused but nod, following him outside. wonwoo doesn't hear a thing apart from his own heart beating loudly. what if this is a weird dream? what if he got so drunk that he literally died and this is some kind of limbo in which he stuck before going to heaven/hell? wonwoo shakes his head, breathing out. he can't think about that now. whatever the hell it is - a dream, hallucination, a divine intervention - wonwoo is not going to waste it. if this is his last chance - fuck, he will risk to ruin your friendship. he will take you never speaking to him again, he will risk it all to never again be on your wedding as a guest.

'you wanted to talk about something important?' you ask after a lapse of silence, turning to him.

your shoulder brushes his arm. wonwoo presses closer, tongue-tied. why is it so hard to form sentences? 'yeah,' he finally croaks. he realizes that he's leading you towards the park where you both met for the first time. 'i...need to say something. important. yes.'

'you're kinda freaking me out, not gonna lie,' you say jokingly with a hint of nerves. 'but take your time. tell me when you're ready.'

how can wonwoo not love you? how can he not when you're this considerate, this sweet, this caring? wonwoo is helpless. he chuckles and shakes his head. your sincerity disarms him and makes it easier to be honest too: 'i'm such an idiot.'

you frown, looking at him questioningly. 'what? no. you're not, woo.'

'i am. i have been in love with you for the last four years and never said a thing. doesn't make me an idiot?' he stops, making you pause too. your eyes are as big as saucers, but you're not running away so it's a good sign. 'i feel like we're always in some relationship with other people and i- it doesn't feel right. i never said anything cause we're friends.'

wonwoo wants to add that he knows where it got him, knows how the future goes in the case when he doesn't say a thing to you. wonders if he should tell you that, but then thinks better of it. you look shocked, but there's hope glimmering in your eyes and wonwoo presses on: 'what if we tried? you and i. just one chance. that's all i'm asking for - one chance.'

you lick your lips. 'you think it'll be good? us, i mean.'

'i think- no, i know that i will regret it my whole life if i don't try.'

and this it, isn't it? that's the main point - wonwoo knows how he felt on your wedding day. nothing can be worse than that, surely. you bite your lip and wonwoo takes your hands in his, giving them light squeeze. 'just one chance,' he repeats, slowly. 'we can be so good together.'

when your lips slowly transform into a smile, wonwoo feels like he can breathe again. 'one chance,' you repeat, shyly looking up at him. 'let's make most of it.'

wonwoo wants to scream. jump up and down like a kid. instead he grabs you by the waist and spins you around. your laughter rings in his ears like the best melody and when he hugs you and you hug him back, he silently prays for this to not end. prays for anyone to not take this away from him. you giggle and he presses a kiss on top of your head, sighing. he will hold on to this one chance and he will never, ever, let you go.

a/n: time loops are my favs! hopefully you liked it, let me know! <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika x reader who has faded stretch marks + a little bit of loose skin from weight loss :)

Slight angst?

Stretch Marks

Sevika x Fem!Reader

Angsty, EATING DISORDER, starvation, mention of vomitting.

★ It had to be the marks that decorated your otherwise plain skin. All over your stomach, your inner thighs and hips— you felt disgusting. You had been struggling so long with an eating disorder, trying not to vomit at the sight of food or even at the mere thought of gaining weight. The rolls of fat that caught onto your hands every time you caressed your own body— nothing but disgust flooded your mind and you wondered how was Sevika in love someone who ate like a pig? "Don't." Sevika said, her voice always firm, but this time there was a hint for something akin to desperation, "Don't," she repeated, "Don't do this to yourself." You didn't exactly know what that meant but you could guess she didn't want you to spiral into an unhealthy eating disorder. But it couldn't be helped.

★ You stepped on the scale everytime and the numbers carved themselves into your brain, and everytime you'd look at a sweet treat— the sight of the scale saying those numbers would make you shake your head. "I can't. I need to lose weight first." It's as if your cravings didn't matter. You saw the ice-cream truck that day, but instead of tugging at Sevika's sleeve like a starved child with those bright eyes filled with child-like happiness, you retreated into the depths of your bedroom.

★ Sevika noticed the way you pretty much gave up eating at a whole, the sight of food served on a plate? Don't even question it, you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom as politely as possible to throw up. Sevika stood outside, listening to the sounds of you retching and she'd feel bad because she couldn't do anything about it. She'd love to fight the demons that occupied your brain all the time now and repeated the number on the scale to you— but it was impossible and a part of Sevika still hated herself for that. Sevika needed to understand, she couldn't do anything about it. She tried everything she could but it simply couldn't be helped.

★ Your mood continued to decline and you skipped pretty much every meal until your sunken cheeks started to show, and your ribs began to stick out a little more than usual. When Sevika got back from work, she hugged you and tears flooded her eyes because she could feel how small you'd gotten. "Let's go out to eat?" "I'm sorry, 'm not feeling it..."

★ Now what was left of you? Not a skeletal figure but the loose skin from the rapid weight loss and stretch marks that stained your body. If possible you had only wished the transition would've been smoother than that. "I look horrible. Look, what I've done to myself." Sevika didn't say anything, stubbing her cigarillo out and pulling you in a bone crashing hug. "You're fine. You're okay, now." She whispered in your ear, her voice faltering. Sevika wasn't one to cry but seeing you withering in front of her very own eyes while all she could do was sit and watch, cook and watch every plate being pushed away or the food being played with but never ate?

Your hands found their way around her body and hugged her back, "I'm sorry." You said but your apology fell on deaf ears, Sevika didn't care. All she wanted was her angel back, and she was glad you were starting to realise what was wrong in your routine all along. "We'll work through this," she breathed out, and for once after a long while, you could feel her heartbeat in sync with yours again.

[that-hazbin]

Sorta AU/story idea where Alastor's a serial killer but he doesn't... completely realize that he's a serial killer.

He's super mentally Not Okay with a whole load of traumatic baggage, and sometimes when he gets past a stress threshold, he sort of... blacks out. Not faint, exactly, but his body moves on autopilot while his consciousness is just. Not there.

The first time it happened, he was fourteen. His father had beaten him black and blue, and left him limp on the floor to go beat Alastor's mother. When Alastor came to the realization that his mother stopped moving, his vision went blurry.

When he regained consciousness, his father was on the floor, bleeding from the head, eyes glazed over. It looked like he fell and hit himself on the corner of the dining table. Alastor lost both his parents on the same day.

After that, Alastor started having "episodes" a bit more often. A majority of the time, he manages to get home, and when he wakes up, he's hiding under his bed or in his closet, confused as to how he even got home. He doesn't want to be admitted into an asylum, of course, so he keeps quiet about this.

Sometimes, though?

Sometimes, he'll wake up knee deep in water, staring into the dark of a bayou. Sometimes, he'll wake up half-submerged in his bath, red going down the drain, with no clue as to where he's injured. Sometimes, the person who was screaming at him before the episode hit just went... missing the next day.

Alastor keeps quiet.

Naturally, when Alastor dies, he goes to hell. He doesn't remember the crimes, but he did commit them regardless. Of course, when people ask him what he did to end up down there, he can't give a real answer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. Sure, he has... suspicions. Theories. But he doesn't know.

Things happen. He has several black out episodes in Hell before they simply stop happening, because he's stressed all the time and he can't just block every single second of every day from memory. He learns how to consciously survive in hell. Makes a name for himself.

Things roughly stay truthful to canon from there.

Then, one day, Charlie has a brilliant idea for a hotel activity. Part of redemption means acknowledging what brought you to hell to begin with, and what you can do now to make up for those actions! They go around the room, talking about the sins they committed, and what they can do now to improve. Alastor fully intends to stay out of the activity, he's not working towards redemption after all, but... Of course, Lucifer has to taunt.

Lucifer: What, you're just gonna sit around judging us?

Charlie: Er, dad—

Alastor: Hilarious coming from you, your majesty, truly. In any case, your memory seems to be failing you, I'm not here for redemption. I have no reason to participate.

Lucifer: Uh huh, neither is the bartender or the maid, you think you can be exempt just because you're staff? I'm the King of Hell and you don't see me skipping out. And here I would've thought you would have taken the chance to brag about the fucked up shit you did up there.

Charlie: Hey, guys, I don't think—

Alastor: Husk and Nifty are grown adults who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. I am also a grown adult, and my decisions don't need to reflect theirs.

Lucifer: Oh, I see, you're a coward then?

Alastor: Believe whatever you want to, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: Sure it doesn't. Why don't we make this a game, huh? I'll guess your sins, and you stop me when I get it right.

Charlie: Dad, Alastor—

Lucifer: Can't imagine you fucked before marriage or anything, I mean, you scream prude. Bet you died a virgin.

Alastor: Hah, I wouldn't know. Are you done with your childish taunts, or are you going to allow your daughter to continue?

Lucifer stops dead, both because of the reminder that he's interrupting Charlie's activity, and also because he's replaying Alastor sentence back in his head. And, as the father of lies himself, he realizes that Alastor... wasn't lying when he said he didn't know.

Charlie: Great, yes, thank you Alastor! So, anyways—

Lucifer: Wait.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Seriously, wait. Bellhop, what the fuck do you mean you wouldn't know?

Angel: ... Oh shit.

Alastor: ... Charlie, continue your activity.

Charlie: Uh.

Lucifer: Oh, FUCK YOU! No, what the fuck did you mean by that?! What, were you like, drugged or—

Angel: HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT MY DEEP DARK PAST AS A MEMBER OF A MAFIA FAMILY!

Charlie: YES THANK YOU ANGEL LET'S TALK ABOUT IT! I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR VOLUNTEERING!

Alastor gets the fuck out of dodge, and Lucifer finally gets the hint that he definitely stepped on a landmine that he very much should have not touched. Unfortunately, Lucifer alongside everyone in the hotel are left with a misunderstanding regarding Alastor's history.

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

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[lsunstreakerl]

i cannot stop thinking about the ear piercings for max in the darkbull verse

this was also sticking in my head a bit, so here's 930 words of Max POV. hi! darkbull :) but tame darkbull, all things considered.

Max leans his face into GP's palm, eyes gently shut as a hand drags softly through his hair. The piercer is holding his ear, gloves cool against Max's skin.

GP is cradling the side of his face, tilting his head carefully so the piercer has a good angle. Max is only a little hazy- GP had passed him a water in the car earlier, and Max had made a face. He didn't particularly want to be fucked up today, but it's not like he can refuse everything from the team, all the time- it's just not realistic.

He wouldn't put it past them to figure out some other way either, and Max enjoys keeping his life as painless as possible, so he'd drank the whole bottle on the way in.

It must be a diluted dose though, because he's not checked out the way he usually is. Instead it's a pleasant buzz, drifting Max away from his body just enough to soothe his nerves, leaning against GP.

He barely feels the sting near the top of his ear, careful fingers adjusting the piercing. They're all small studs at the moment, silver and navy placeholders while it heals before Max can have nicer ones. There's the swift heat of an alcohol wipe, and then the piercer leans back, giving GP a nod.

"That's all of them. It's important that they get cleaned frequently, don't try for anything decorative until they're healed. Keep a close eye on the rook on this side, and once they're healed up I'll do the conch and the daith on the other, sound good?"

Max isn't even sure which ones they've done- he's got quite a few, but he hadn't bothered counting. Apparently there'd been a discussion about trying to get them all in once, or scattering them out, but the team had decided to do as many as possible in one go, so that Max only had to deal with the healing process for a little bit. It would've been much more drawn out if they'd waited- although the piercer had wanted to stagger out the last few.

Max doesn't mind. They'll have to figure something out for his in-ears on race day, but he's sure the engineers are already on it.

GP leans over him to shake the piercers hand.

"Thank you, really. We'll keep in touch about that follow up- and he'll take good care of them, don't worry."

By "he" Max knows they actually mean the team. He doesn't mind it anymore- never has- and it's nice sometimes knowing he doesn't have to worry about anything.

They'd been careful with him when he'd first gotten back and had the tattoo redone- not that he remembers much of it. Brief flashes of large hands gentle against his ribs, warm baths, team dinners. They'd done a good job bringing him back into the fold, even deeper than before, stitching together all the flayed parts of him Charles had left behind and weaving him into the team.

He'd be nothing without them.

He's still leaning against GP as they stand, a steady arm wrapped around his shoulders as GP walks them back to the car, a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"You did a good job, Max."

All he had to do was sit still and let them put a needle in him- Jake does that all the time when he's drunk anyways. It's still nice to hear GP say it, and Max lets the praise settle warm in his chest, humming softly.

He flips the visor down in the car, tilting his head each way to really look.

There's four on the left side, scattered across his ear, and three on the right. The studs are small and flat, mostly silver with some deep navy blue here and there.

Max snorts.

"Mate, I look like a Red Bull can."

GP laughs lightly, one hand snaking across the console to squeeze Max's knee briefly as he reverses out of the lot, eyes on the rear view mirror.

"Was it ever going to be anything else?"

Max flips the visor back up, settling into the seat. He knows the answer already.

It's a bit like his life with Red Bull, when he thinks about it- doing his time with the navy and the silver, belonging to the team entirely before he can have the gleaming gold he knows is coming.

He's sure there's probably all kinds of conversations happening right now about what the team wants the piercing layout to be.

Daniel, Carlos, and Oscar should all have a say in it as well, but Max really doesn't understand the hierarchies there- and it doesn't impact him any, beyond that they probably shouldn't use his mouth for a few days while his ears are still tender. One wrong hand placement could lead to a very painful night.

They'll be dramatically devastated about it until they remember Max has other things to offer.

It might even lead to something creative, depending on how they're feeling.

He leans his head back against the seat, eyes drifting back shut. GP's palm is warm over his knee, and he feels good, just on the edge of hazy.

Sometimes he wonders if he should be horrified, letting the team do whatever they want. Half the time the drugging isn't even subtle anymore, but there's something reassuring about it. The team doesn't need to be secretive about it, Max knows they just want what's best for him- and he clearly doesn't know himself, so it's better to let them handle everything.

All Max has to do is drive and listen.

[mastermindmiko]

Mornings

pairing: Harry Potter + reader Warnings: bad dreams, death, lmk if you find anything else Summary: A morning with Harry word count: approx. 850

I woke up and it was one of those rare occasions where I turned to find Harry not lying beside me. I sit up, and sigh, knowing what must’ve happened. I go to the bathroom near our closet and brush my teeth, quickly washing my face as well. 

I open the door of our room and the smell of pancakes invades my senses. I can hear the low humming of Sirius’ radio, and recognise one of the songs playing as Sirius’ favourites. I know who the nightmare was about at least. 

I sneak up behind him and wrap my arms around him. If this was only a few months ago, he would've jumped, terrified by the action. I try my best to always remind him that he's safe now, it’s over, but that can only do so much. 

He flips a pancake onto a plate, and turns around to kiss me. He rests his chin on top of my head, and squeezes my body. I ask, “You okay?” 

He doesn’t answer, he only smiles, as he presses a kiss to my head. We stay like this for a few minutes, in situations like this, I like to give Harry his time. He moves away from me and makes a final pancake. 

I sit down on the kitchen counter, and excitedly await the food. He places a plate in front of me, and in the middle of the counter maple syrup, chocolate syrup and honey. I make a mixture of the three and start eating. Harry sits beside me with his arm around my shoulder. 

“Thank you.” I say once I’m done with breakfast. Harry’s been done for a few minutes and has been watching me. I've told him several times not to do that since it’s creepy, but the boy just won’t listen. Harry smiles and presses a long kiss to my lips. He sighs, “Do you know that I love you?” 

“Yes, Harry, I do. And I love you too.” I reply, and grip his hand in between both of mine. His eyes turn sad again for a moment, and I can’t help but ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” Harry replies, and I nod my head understandingly. I look sadly at my boyfriend. It was unfair that someone as nice and kind as him had to suffer that much, and still suffers now. I squeeze his hand, and reassure him, “I’m always here if you need anything, you know that right?” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Harry says before pressing another kiss to my lips, this one longer and more sweet as I taste the sugary sweet chocolate syrup on his tongue. I begrudgingly part away from him, and stand up. He groans and wraps his arms around my waist. I say, “Harry, I have to go to work.” 

“You don’t have to go to work.” 

“I have to go to work, if I want to get paid.” I retort, and he pouts, “I can get your boss to let you off the hook.”

Harry Potter and the benefits that come with that are something that I will never stop being grateful for. He saved the wizarding world after all, so some people were bound to give him some things, like letting me skip a day of work. 

I head to my room, and change. When I come back, Harry’s staring off into space. I place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he starts, “It was about Sirius…I dreamt of the whole moment again.” 

He doesn’t have to say which moment, I already know which, he’s talking about when Sirius died. I sit beside him on the sofa, and wait patiently as he unravels his feelings. He continues, “Sometimes, I can’t believe he’s gone, and other times, I can’t believe I even allowed myself to think that anyone stays.” 

“Don’t say that, Harry. Every single person in your life who’s gone now would’ve stayed for you. Besides, Ron’s here, Hermione’s here, and you sure as hell can’t get rid of me, if you tried.” I say, and Harry gives me a hug. 

“I wish that we’d met sooner because then you would’ve met him.” Harry says, and I nod my head. I always think what if instead of meeting Harry the first day of work, I’d have met him the first day of school, I would’ve helped him through so much of that pain. 

“I would’ve loved to have Sirius meet the girl I’m going to marry.” Harry mumbles, unfocused, and I tense immediately. My eyes widen, and I push Harry by his shoulders to get a look at his face. His eyes are wider than mine, and he slaps a hand on his face. He groans, “I can’t believe I said that, I’ve been planning this for months, and I just ruined the bloody secret.” 

I grin wider than I already have, and I take his hands off of his face. Harry relaxes when he sees my smile. I bite my lip when I feel the smile begin to grow uncontrollably. Harry says, “Try to forget this moment, so when I actually propose, you’ll be surprised, okay?” 

“Okay.”  a/n: Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, death is mentioned and tyler gets close to it not explicitly, kissing, swearing, baby as a nickname for your lover, lot of made up family members + names

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

He started it off as a bull rider for a rodeo, and though by the end of it he was regarded as the star bull rider and sometimes even the star of the show, there was a big learning curve that ended him with a couple (something closer to four dozen, really) kicks on the ol' noggin. Luckily, none of it sprouted within him either physical or mental problems by the time he decided he wanted to move on; his mother always said he had a thick skull, anyway.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

A peculiar fact that came with it was that even after landing a more dangerous job, he sustained less injuries than bull riding by a substantial amount. Suppose the thing is that the moment he gets his first serious one, he's likely done for.

You've been through it all.

You met him before he even started this life, in high school; your first kiss was at his bedside after a particularly harsh fall and kick, you persisted through the busier university schedule, and you supported his dreams to be a storm chaser.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

For years, you've been grateful for him. As much as you've been his anchor, he's been yours...but he'd have made you a widower, even if you were married or not, and you just couldn't take that possibility.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

You point the utensil at him as threateningly as possible, although it's practically the same thing as pointing a spoon at him. "I don't need you for a taste-tester, Owens, you best take note of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole family, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

"Haha." You laugh sarcastically, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning his way. "No, my sister just so happened to marry a blonde. Even if she was somehow ours, I would've never kept you from her."

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

The kid outside is your niece, a twelve year old girl shipped out of bustling New York City to the backdoor of America for being "too addicted to her phone", as your sister says. Despite her self-proclaimed hatred for the outdoors, she's actually having a lot of fun with the ranch dogs, who indulge her when they're not working.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could never biologically create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, pressing his chest to your back. "Huh."

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

His hands are settled on the edge of the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. "I thought you'd flinch."

"I learned to expected the unexpected around you, Tyler Owens. Never a day went by that you didn't surprise me, so I decided I'd simply never be surprised."

Tyler sputters out a laugh. "Oh, hobble your lip!"

"It's true." You reply, offhandedly, fully concentrated on chopping some carrots, and Tyler hates that because you're not giving him attention.

So he opts to do something you'll obviously never expect and prove you wrong. He leans down to press his nose against your neck, and you think he's only going to kiss it, but instead...

Thbptttttt!

"Ew, Tyler, you did not!" It's a miracle you have the self-restraint to put the knife down, let alone only push him away and not slap him on the face. You clutch the spot where he just blew a raspberry and instantly regret it, recoiling away from the feel of his saliva like it's acid.

Tyler laughs. Despite your best efforts to push him away again as he approaches, he only dodges your hands and traps you against the counter again. His plan is accomplished, as he now has you facing him.

"You asshole." You snarl.

Tyler only smiles. "Yours, all the same."

He leans down to kiss right where he'd blown that raspberry, collecting most of his own spit on his lips and saving you the trouble of cleaning it himself.

Even when you wipe off the rest of the spit you'd previously touched on his sleeve, he laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" You sigh, cupping his cheek and tilting his gaze towards yours.

He's a damn bastard, having the audacity to grin at you as if he's won some kind of victory. "Kiss me."

So he's a puppy, then. Licking you like it's a way of kissing and expecting a proper kiss back. "No, you don't deserve that."

He rolls his eyes, though his eyes find yours immediately after. "Yes I do. Kiss me."

You don't know why you let Tyler Owens walk back into your life like nothing happened. You don't know how you let him kiss your neck, or how you let him even ask to kiss you, or how you're even being friendly with him.

Scratch that, actually. You don't know why he kissed your neck, why he wants to kiss you, or why he's being friendly with you.

You walked out of his life, for God's sake. You walked out of his life because you feared dealing with the aftermath of his death.

He's a tornado. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangling cowboy, is a tornado. He's a fire twister, even, the worst of the worst, a category F5. The damage he'll leave once he dies out won't be devastating, it'll be incredible.

That's what you're trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Tyler's smile has faded, his expression sobered up. Of course he can still tell when you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Nothing." You shake your head, wipe your nose to hide your sniffle and thus let go of his face. "Hey, how about you go check up on Sophie? My sister would kill me if she got hurt."

"Right, sure." He can sense something's wrong, but he withdraws anyway, respecting your decisions. He always does that, and you hate him for it, because he's so good.

You watch him head out the back door, and even as he closes it, you watch on.

He's too good for you.

When the distant sound of the boiling soup catches your ear, you inevitably tear your eyes away.

Right, let's make the best soup there ever was.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler had unknowingly picked the right time to show up at your front door when he did.

"Aww, come on, you didn't have to make such a big fuss," Your great uncle speaks with those sloppy dentures of his, but even with the wet sound of his gums and lips, he sounds entirely endearing. "Tyler's back! This party should've been his."

Tyler's always been the life of the party ever since you brought him home for that first Thanksgiving (his "trial", so to speak), and that apparently hasn't changed.

"Oh, no, no, you're kiddin' grandpa!" Tyler only raises his glass from where he's leaning against the punch table. "It's your birthday! Hell, I didn't even bring a gift!"

"Your fine ass is all you needed to bring." Your famously single aunt grins and sends a wink, holding a glass full of wine she snuck in despite all the children around.

Tyler directs his own glass towards her to thank her, his smile never waning. "Oh shush, aunt Delilah."

As Tyler greets the family one by one, all of which clearly miss him, you're in the corner of the room pointing out each of them to your niece.

"Those are your cousins...I think. They're your mom's cousin's kids, and well...whatever, they're Jonas' kids. Becky, Jake, Bean–"

"Bean?"

"Sorry, his name's Nick, we just call him Bean 'cause one time as a toddler we found him sitting on a sack of raw beans, shovelling them into his mouth."

"That's crazy."

Even after you've named every face in the room and sent Sophie away with a pat on the head to mingle with her...cousins, Tyler's still talking to everyone.

Your heart burns like you've had some of uncle Dick's famous dripping fried chicken at the sight of it because nobody's ever like this when it's just you.

It's not even about the fact you're forgotten, it's a big family and you have your own close group of cousins in the middle of all of them, it's the fact that they missed him.

While you're distracted, your mom pulls you down to sit beside her on the couch, where your dad is telling another story of his. Many of your aunts and uncles and distant cousins are gathered around him, listening intently, but as you actually hear the contents of his speech, your attention fades away. It's one of those stories he always tells, about how the crop cycle was ruined until he had this eureka idea.

Distantly, you hear Tyler droning on about his whole tornado wrangling cowboy thing, explaining his latest feat like it's nothing but a regular Tuesday. He's got a lot more people gathered around him than your dad; not to discredit your dad, as he's doing his best trying to compete against Tyler in storytelling, but you know how that will end.

You kiss your mother on the cheek and stand up to find your more amicable cousins, only to be interrupted by your aunt Sissy, Delilah's sister.

"Hey, darling! How've you been?" She calls you over and immediately slings an arm around your neck, holding you close and rubbing your cheeks together in greeting.

"Good, good." You say immediately, an instinctual white lie as you wipe her transferred makeup off your cheek.

She doesn't even notice you're lying to her, maybe doesn't care enough to notice, before she's nodding her head towards Tyler and his crowd. "I'm so happy you're back together with Tyler, he must have so many new stories to tell."

"Um, actually, auntie," You try to correct her, then bite your lip, pausing suddenly to think. It'd probably be a lot better if you let her believe you were back together, but you've already dug yourself into saying actually. "we're–"

"Hey, auntie Sissy!" Tyler suddenly appears beside you like he wasn't just across the room, leaning down to gracefully accept the cheek kisses in greeting. He somehow comes out of it without getting stained. "How have things been? The old cat still slinking around the neighbors' yards?"

The two of them exchange a few words before he's slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Can I borrow this one real quick? It'll just be a sec."

"Sure, sure!" Whether an insult to your presence or a compliment to his coercion tactics, she's more than happy to let the two of you go. "Don't let me hold up your fun."

You're grateful for him steering you away from the party and out onto the front porch, but you're also dreading being alone with him after the whole thing in the kitchen.

Tyler doesn't seem too far off.

"Whew, I did not miss being around your family." He breaths out, leaning against the porch's railing.

The whole dread fades into confusion as he says that, and you lean against the spot beside him. "You didn't?"

"No...well," He shakes his head, "I missed hanging out with them. I did not miss having to tell them every single detail about where I've been since I've last seen them."

"I thought you liked telling them stories." You hummed, turning your gaze from the scenery ahead to him.

"Eh...I much prefer intimate crowds." He sends a wink. You flush and try to turn away, but he catches your cheek and stops you.

Tyler knows something is wrong, has known since you discreetly pushed him away earlier today in the kitchen. Looking into your eyes only further convinces him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

His eyes narrow. His stupidly beautiful blue-green eyes narrow at you, and you know you can't lie anymore...but you can deflect.

"Did you know your eyes are blue and green?" You ask, lightly tapping his hand that sits on the railing.

"(Y/N)."

"Blue rim. Green...center? No, that's not the word, the inner? God, I don't know." You shake your head, and despite the movement, his hand doesn't leave your cheek.

"(Y/N)."

"They remind me of the classic scenery." You hold a pointer finger out. "Blue sky, green lawn, right? Or the Windows default wallpaper. Both are iconic."

His other hand leaves the railing and takes your other cheek. "Baby, look at me."

Baby. You used to hate it when he called you that, you weren't some baby, but now...now, how you've missed it.

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. No more deflecting and no more lies. You actually had to talk about your feelings now.

It had taken a lot of courage the first time, telling him: yes, I still love you, I'm just selfish and think that if you die, you'll take me down with you; no, I know you won't actually kill me, but you'll take my soul with you, and that's practically the same thing, isn't it?

"You don't have to tell me anything." Tyler speaks up before you do, beckoning your eyes open. "You just have to tell me to go away again, if that's what you want."

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

No. No, how could you? You did once, and you're not sure how.

"Stay." You say, because you want it, you want him to stay.

"Okay." He says it easily, and his hands fall to his sides. He's willing to take that, just that, because...you don't know, maybe he still loves you. You're not willing to admit that.

You're not willing to accept that he still loves you after you told him you wanted to break up.

You take his hand before he can walk back into the party. "Why'd you come back?"

"I..." Tyler almost shrinks back, but you intertwine your fingers, and now you're the angler reeling him back in. "My car got flipped onto it's roof."

"Baby." You breathe out, pulling him in, pulling him closer to you, almost like he's not living flesh in front of you and you need to make sure he's breathing by feeling his chest heave against you.

"I was in the hospital for a little while...just some cuts." He assures first, to not worry you. He grabs both your hands, presses his nose to the knuckles, inhales the scent of their sweat like it's that of an apple pie, and it's weird but he needs it. "The glass broke, obviously, all of it, and some of my equipment, and, well, fuck, it was worse than a couple cuts."

"Ty."

"I'm okay, you see? Not scarred. I'm tough." He lets go of your hands momentarily to do a little twirl for you. He looks just the same as you left him.

"You almost died." You say anyway.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, he can't lie, because he can see through your lies as well as you can see through his. "I wanted to see you again, because...I wanted to see you in case the next time I got into an accident, I actually died. And you know what? I feel selfish for it."

"What? No." You shake your head, step closer. You're about to say more, but he starts first.

"You told me to stay away, but I came back into your life and I acted like nothing happened. You know, the life you're living? It's kind of what I wanted for us. A little ranch, some cows, some dogs, a farm. We get our own milk, our own eggs, grow our own food, and it's just the two of us..." His fingers climb up your arm like a little spider, and his gaze follows it absentmindedly. "Until we decide to adopt a little girl. You drive her to school, I drive her back home. We're happy, raising her. We teach her not to be like us, and she still turns out an exact replica of us, anyway. She's our princess."

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

He sniffles. You tear your hand away from his only to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"No, I–"

"No, shut up." Despite the severity, you laugh, and he does too, until you're speaking again. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed right there with you. I'd have been right at your bedside, you know? I'd have kissed you like the first time. Remember what I said?"

He laughs again, "That my breath tastes like cow shit?"

"Yeah, that." You grin at him, and he loves to see you grin like that again. "I was selfish."

"I understood you completely, though. I thought I was saving you the grief." That's why he let you leave so easily, and you realize it now, looking into his eyes. "You were right. You always are."

"I'm not, Tyler. I was wrong." You shake your head, "I thought it worked. Weeks went by when I didn't think about you, because I fought the memories of you back. A year after, it settled in that I wouldn't be seeing you, so I thought I wouldn't even think about you anymore, but...the memory of you, your smile, your kisses, your warmth resurfaces every month, and god, I missed you. And missing you without the possibility of having you is just grieving you."

"...and now I'm here." He leans a bit further away, and you see all of him. You see the way his blue-green eyes are glassed over, and you've no doubt yours are the same; you see the familiar way his hat is perched above his head and how he still wears the top two buttons of his shirt undone and how his smile is just the same.

"And now you're here." You nod.

He places his hands over your wrists, holds them, presses his nose against yours. "I missed you too."

"Mhm?" You hum. Your breaths mingle with his, pressed this close together.

"And I love you, too. Still do."

"Fuck." You laugh, a teary little thing, but it's real and genuine and not a figment of his imagination. "I love you too."

And then you kiss, and he's missed it so much, and you've missed it so much, the two of you. You're slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle. You're not you without him and he's not him without you.

When you part, you wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks, and he does the same for you.

"Should we..." He chokes a little on his words, then shakes the nerves off. He has you back, and his smile returns. "head back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we should." You find yourself leaning back in, anyway.

You share another kiss, maybe two. If he'd brought a friend or three along, he'd have signalled them to light the fireworks in his truck to add a little magic to it, even if it already feels like fireworks are going off between your lips.

You could spend eternity like this.

When you've had enough of each other for the moment and finally head back in, your great uncle raises his spoon at you and laughs. "There you are! This soup is amazing, kid!"

Or at least that's what he would've said, had his dentures not gotten stuck in a hard carrot and splashed right back into his bowl.

One of the carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

The tornado wrangler of a boyfriend you've regained is laughing his ass off beside you, while you cringe. So much for the perfect soup.

"Come on, (Y/N)." Tyler wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you're so happy he can do it casually again.

"Let's get us a bowl."

[lversturns]

a warm surprise ⊹˚˖

hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader

in which… chris surprises you after a rough practice...

word count: 805 | warnings: swearing, makeout scene, a little suggestive towards the end | not proofread + english isn't my first language so grammar might be a little off!

it was no lie that your instructor taught with tough love, but sometimes, she really let her harsh side get to you

you had worked your ass of the whole afternoon, flying, turning, spinning and doing every possible move you could. but no matter how hard you tried, it still felt like nothing you did could satisfy her

"come on missy! you can do better than that, we both know it!" she shouted out

a quiet sigh rolled out of your mouth as you skated back to where she pointed you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at her attitude, something that didn't go past her

"don't you roll your eyes at me young lady!" your instructor scolded

"ugh. i've been training foreverrr! can't we be done soon?" you complained back, rolling out the r's

"five more exercises and you can can go home."

finally, after what felt like eternity, you were finally slamming down on the nearest hard, wooden bench. your whole body ached and you wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower and curl up in bed with chris

speaking of chris...

while you had been through a practice sent straight from hell, chris had been packing up at home after being away with his hockey team for games the whole past week and you had missed him, a lot, and he’d missed you just as much

with a loud groan, you pushed your usually comfortable sneakers on, now sitting painfully on your already swollen feet. your hair laid damp against your forehead and your (chris') hoodie was clinging awkwardly against your body

rising from the bench, you walked with heavy steps towards the locker room, pulling your key, that you'd tied to a hairtie earlier, from your wrist. you sighed and started grabbing your things one by one, already more than ready to get home

after grabbing your jacket, you closed the locker and turned around, flying five feet into the air and dropping everything in your hands when a smiling face appeared right before you

"holy fuck!" you croaked out, gasping for air

"surprise mamas" chris grinned, waving his left hand excitedly at you

"you scared the shit out of me, idiot!" your faux annoyance sipped away by your large grin

chris chuckled before pulling you in a tight embrace, holding you as close as he could while your arms flew around his neck

"'missed you lots ma'" he mumbled against your hair, stroking his free hand down your back

you hummed into his neck as a response, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. if you could have your say in the matter, you would've stayed like that forever

“when’d you get back home?” you asked

"a few hours ago and be careful, you're smushing the flowers, gorgeous" chris whispered in your ear, pulling back slightly to pull the bouquet out from in between you

"you got me flowers?" you gasped

the bouquet was beautiful mixture of all your favorite colours, the petals blending together in a perfect array of light and dark. you were pretty certain that your love language was physical touch, but oh how your heart melted when chris did things like this

"i love them, but now i feel bad i didn't get ya' anything!"

"well there's one way you could make it up to me" he winked

a soft gasp escaped your lips as you lightly slapped his shoulder, grabbing on to it and pulling him towards you and interlocking your lips. the kiss started of as soft, but quickly turned more sensual as his tongue teased your lips, begging to enter

you moaned softly, resulting in his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth. your tongues danced together while your hands went up to his brown locks, tugging at them lightly. chris sunk his teeth slightly into your bottom lip before groaning against your mouth, sliding his hands down towards your ass and grabbing on to it

heat spread through your body and a content hum slipped from your lips. chris grinned against your lips, slowly pulling back from them

you smiled up at him, both of you out of breath staring at each other with swollen lips

"wasn't exactly what i meant, but i'm not complainin'" he chuckled lowly

"oh shut up"

he flashed you a toothy smile while grabbing your coat and placing it on top of your shoulders. he then took your bag and threw it over his own shoulder, before putting your hand in his and starting to walk towards the exit

"i had the shittiest practice today" you mumbled, placing your head on his shoulder

"oh really? do i gotta beat someone up?"

"well, only my trainer, but i don't think that'd pass over lightly"

"maybe not"

you smiled up at him, giving him a light peck on the cheek before interlocking your fingers

"what you say about me givin' you a massage when we get home? that sound good?" he asked

"mhm" you sighed back in response, fully aware that a massage wasn’t the only thing that was going to be “given” that night…

lia's words: i can't tell if this sucks or not...

all dividers are tagged in my main post !!

remember that you are beautiful and so loved!!

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: kwon soonyoung

love at first sight (or meet cute au)

'did you hear wedding bells ring? cause that's what i heard when i saw you'

it wasn't supposed to happen. hoshi knew better but he's been sitting at the hotel whole day and boredom clung to his whole body like that stupid fly on the ceiling that refused to budge no matter how many pillows you threw her way. and he knows that it's all for his own safety, knows that fans went ballistic since they learned he landed in this city and he knows that his managers actually want only the best for him. it's just their version of best for him is basically imprisoning him in the hotel and hoshi's version of best for him is letting him roam around the city unguarded. so yes, him walking out of the hotel unsupervised was not supposed to him but oh well, it's too late to think about it now that he's hiding in the very first shop he saw on his way, running away from overly excited fans.

said shop turned out to be a small coffee shop in a ghibli movie characters theme. it's cute, hoshi notes from his position behind the counter. he climbed here the second he entered, quickly realizing that hiding under the tables will not help him. there's no one in the cafe and he has half a mind to call someone from staff when door from his left opens and a person walks in. hoshi instantly shoots up, apologies on his tongue when you finally look up and- oh.

not many things can leave hoshi speechless; he's been in this business for such a long time that it feels like he's seen it all, even some stuff that he wishes he could un-see. he's very used to perfect faces, perfect settings, perfect speeches - he's been trained to know what to say in any situations but right now he's at loss. you are so-

'what the hell you are doing standing behind the counter?!'

-rude. yeah. blinking, he snaps back to reality instead of getting lost in your eyes. it's almost five and sun dances beautifully on your face, it illuminates all your features with an orange glow and he wishes he had a camera with him because whoa.

'i'm gonna call police if you don't step back.' there's slight tremor in your voice but you still try to look confident. 'how did you even-'

'door was open!' hoshia blurts out in his defense, belatedly realizing that this is not a good excuse for hiding behind the counter, where only staff members can go. 'i had to hide, i'm so sorry, but they would've spot me if i chose just take any table.'

your face is very expressive. miriads of emotions change themselves until you settle on confusion. 'hide from who- oh my god, are you a gang member?'

'i-what-' hoshi sputters, looking himself up and down. does he look like a gang member? 'no, i'm- uh, a singer. popular one.'

hoshi is not sure why he added the last bit but it's too late to take it back now. your gaze focuses on his face and he takes this time to study you too. it's hard to pinpoint why, but there's something so interesting and fascinating about you (apart from you generally being really, really pretty). like hoshi could stare at you all day and not get bored, could see you as his muse even.

'okay,' you exhale, looking very done. 'okay. you are a singer. a popular one. hiding from..fans, i presume?' hoshi nods. 'okay. that still doesn't mean that you can stand here.'

hoshi moves like a lightning, quickly jumping to the other side. you're not wearing any badge with a name and he suddenly really needs to know your name. 'sorry again. uh-' he looks around, trying to keep the conversation going. 'can i get one ice americano, please? name is soonyoung, by the way.'

you look... amused. baffled. shocked. hoshi likes how he can pull out so many emotions from you but he is yet to see you smile and that makes him sad. 'okay, soonyoung. one ice americano coming right up, anything else?'

'your name,' hoshi says, beaming, not caring how awfully cheesy that sounded. he goes for a killer: 'i can't keep callling you 'pretty girl' in my mind.'

and there you go, there's your smile. it sets fireworks in his chest and his grin broadens. you look much better with that smile on your face, he decides and proceeds to tell you this loudly as well.

'thank you,' you say, blushing but also laughing.

you don't say your name but laughter is good, hoshi decides. laughter is almost love, no? it can start with a laughter, he is sure. his mind conjures thousands of pick up lines that can you make laugh and maybe, just maybe, if he makes you laugh often enough you'll tell him your name. and then he can get your number and then he can facetime you from whenever and will always be able to look at your pretty face. now that's a solid plan in hoshi's mind and he's never happier for not listening to his managers and running away from the fans because meeting you is worth it ten times over.

a/n: and i finished my 'seventeen members as love tropes' series with hoshi! hope you liked it, let me know! - nini

my other seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here