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feelbokkie · 1 year

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BF!SKZ reacting to idol!reader fainting on stage (hyung line + hyunjin)

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Maknae Line

**Requested**

Bf SKZ reaction to idol reader fainting on stage from malnourishment?? It can be a text reaction or anything that’s easy for you. Angsty and fluffy if u want. Thank you! 💖

genre: angst, a bit of fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: BF!SKZ's reaction to idol!reader fainting on stage from malnourishment (not proofread)

pairing: hyung line bf!skz x fem!idol!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of food, referring to an eating disorder

word count: listed below (3,963 total)

방 찬 (Bang Chan) (1,046 words)

The second you got on stage, Chan knew something was wrong. You just didn't look like yourself. You looked drained and your dancing was nowhere near as good as it normally was. He's watched you perform hundreds of times, he knows your routine like the back of his hand and he knows you do too. So when you were a few seconds out of sync from your other members, he was at the edge of his seat watching your every move.

The boys watched as Chan sat there in his chair, hands on his knees and slightly bouncing his leg. They couldn't catch what he was seeing in your performance. They knew you were a good dancer and that your timing was a bit off, but they didn't see how you were completely fumbling around missing steps and mumbling your lyrics.

You weren't feeling well. Truth be told, you haven't been eating much for the past couple of weeks. Last month, your group made an appearance on Weekly Idol and all the netizens could talk about was how much weight you had gain recently. It wasn't a lot, your company wasn't even putting you on a diet. But the amount of comments that you read about yourself had gotten to you. It started off simply at first. You didn't eat anything after 4, you worked out on days you didn't have dance practice, and you cut out snacks and carbs from your diet. But the closer it got to the current award show that you and your group were scheduled to perform for, the less you ate. You honestly can't even remember the last time you ate a proper meal.

Your performance was two minutes long, but it felt like it was 2 hours. The sound coming out of your in-ear starts getting further away, like you're in a car driving away from the music. Your field of vision slowly starts getting darker, making it harder to see your members in front of you. No, I can't pass out now. Just a few more seconds, let me at least get off the stage.

Chan sits in horror as he watches your eyes roll to the back of you head and your body slump to the floor just as the lights cut out to signal the end of your performance. He immediately jumps up and rushes backstage, not caring if his reaction sparks dating rumors. By the time he gets to you, staff members had gotten you off stage.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to move someone who fainted!" Chan shouts, not caring that he causing a scene. Your group members were hovering around, not sure what to do while a staff member was fanning you. There was not a single person from the medical staff nearby yet.

"We can't just leave her on the stage, the show has to continue." Another staff member says.

"Excuse me?" Chan doesn't even turn to face whoever had the audacity to say that to him, instead his attention is still on you. The staff member could sense the tension in Chan's voice daring him to give him a reason to hit him.

"C...han?" You mumble, finally starting to stir. You're eyes are still closed but you could feel him near you.

Chan kneels down next to you and takes your hand. It's cold and clammy. Getting a proper look at you, he can see that your makeup artist put way more makeup on you than they normally do.

"I'm right here, Y/N. What's wrong with her?" He gently strokes you hand as the medic works on you.

"Her blood sugar is extremely low and she is a bit dehydrated. Luckily, we have stuff here for her. She's going to be okay." The medics carefully sit you up and hand you a juice box.

"How much sugar is in that?" You ask as you hesitate to take it.

"Enough," Chan takes the juice box and opens it for you, placing it in your hand when he's done.

Knowing that you're okay, your manager and the rest of the staff clear the room to give you two privacy. Another staff member comes up to you with a bag of chips. Chan also takes the snack from the staff member.

"Drink your juice, Y/N." He says, pushing the juice box to you mouth.

"You should go back to your group. We're going to be on dispatch tomorrow if you don't." You mutter, not taking a single sip of the juice. Instead, you turn it over to the nutrition facts and read every bit of information before putting it down.

"I don't care," he looks between you and the juice box, "they can write about me all they want."

"Chan,"

"You need to eat something."

"I'm fine,"

"Like hell you are!" You slightly jump at Chan's sudden outburst. Various staff members who were still in the area turn to see what the commotion is about. You know Chan has a temper, but he never yelled at you before.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It just scared me watching you go down like that. I knew you were getting hate comments after your Weekly Idol performance, but I didn't know it was this bad. I should have realized--"

"It's not your fault. Truth being told, it wasn't that bad before. But the idea of being on camera again scared me and I kinda went overboard I guess." You take a sip from the juice box to put Chan at ease.

“I wish you came to me. I could have helped in some way.” He takes one of the chips and puts it in your mouth before you could protest.

“Might not have worked. You know I have trouble with food sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you still need to eat. You need to take care of your body.”

“I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” He shoves a few more chips in your mouth.

“Do you want me to start eating with you again? Would that help?”

“Maybe, but you have a busy schedule after today so it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll video chat you then. And I’ll text you reminders to eat too. Just please, no more missing meals.”

“I’ll try,”

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (733 words)

Minho hung around backstage after his performance to watch you. He knew that by the time he got un-mic'd and back to his seat, your group would have already started performing. He would have a bad view watching from the wings of the stage, but at least he would be able to watch your full performance.

It was your groups first time performing a new song, and the choreography is the most difficult in your group's discography. The idea of performing it made you anxious. Being the main dancer of your group meant that you had the most difficult parts of the dance, adding to your anxiety. Wanting to perfect your routine, you opted for dance practices over meals, especially in the past few days. Your anxiety wouldn’t have let you enjoy anything anyways, you’d have just throw everything up. You just need to get through this performance and everything is going to be okay.

Your brain is foggy. You're not sure how you're hitting every move correctly. Maybe it's muscle memory. Or maybe you've been running your routine so much that it's all you can do. You move in sync with your member, moving with high intensity.

Minho watches as your backup dancers lift up you and your members. He also freezes in horror as he watches your body slump and hit the floor with a loud thump. The music stops, your members and the backup dancers surround you as you lay motionless. Various staff members run around backstage.

MInho blinks a few times, not sure he actually just watched you faint. He snaps back to reality as two of your group members help you backstage. You're awake, but sluggish, leaning on both of your members. Your head is bleeding and you look dazed. Everyone is murmuring about how the backup dancer dropped you, buy Minho knows better. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and your head fall back before you fell. He walks over to you and helps you walk over to a chair, taking the position of both of your group members.

***

"Y/N, will you please rest? You have a concussion." Minho calls from your kitchen. He was making you food, soup to be specific. The two of you went to the emergency room after your fall. They diagnosed you with a concussion. They gave you stitches and your manager care instructions and sent you home. Minho insisted on being the one to take care of you.

"If I rest, I might fall asleep." You call.

"The doctor said that you're allowed to sleep. He just said that I'm supposed to wake you up every few hours if you do for the next few days. So if you're tired, go ahead." You lean back into your couch and stare at the ceiling. Minho was strict about the no screen rule that was advised by the doctor. He even went as far as to confiscate your phone.

He comes into the living room with soup and lemonade. He set it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.

"You fainted, didn't you?" Minho asks as he picks up the bowl and gets a spoonful of food for you.

"I think so. I feel bad, everyone thinks that, that backup dancer dropped me. And I can't even say anything because my manager says not to." You watch as Minho blows on the spoon before feeding you.

"Why do you think you fainted?"

"Promise not to get mad?"

"I'm not promising that." He gets another spoonful of soup for you.

"Well, I don't want to lie to you anyway. I may or may not have missed a few meals."

"How many is a few?"

"I honestly don't know." You eat a little more soup.

"You hyper focused on dancing again, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately,"

Minho knows you well enough to understand that when you're too focused on dancing, your health is once of the first areas to suffer. He hands you the bowl of soup and leaves.

"I want you to eat every last drop of that soup." He calls from the kitchen again. He comes back a few minutes later with a sandwich.

"I don't think stuffing me with food is going to make up for the past few days of me not eating."

"I don't care, eat well and then rest."

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (647 words)

"She looks skinnier than when I saw her last... Doesn't she look thinner?" Changbin asks Jisung, who was standing next to him, during your performance.

"Hyung, I don't spend time ogling your girlfriend." Jisung pipes up next to him.

"Babo, I'm not setting you up. I'm just worried and I need to make sure I'm not seeing things."

"I genuinely don't know if she looks skinnier. But she does look paler--" Jisung is cut off as the pair watch you drop on stage.

Changbin doesn't hesitate making his way on stage to be at your side. Luckily for the two of you, the stage crew turns the lights off. He scoops you up and takes you backstage. He can tell that you've lost weight just by picking you up, it shouldn't be as easy as it was to pick you up. He felt like he was going to throw you. He lays you on a couch on backstage as the medical staff storms your still unconscious body.

"She hasn't been eating, she might be dehydrated." Changbin says from the side.

He knows you struggle with your weight. Being in the public eye had damaged your self-confidence and he constantly watches you struggle with food. To be completely honest, this isn't the first time he's watch you faint from lack of food. It's just the first time it's happened while you were working.

He tried to help you lose weight in a healthy way, not that you needed to. But you were adamant about it and he at least wanted you to be safe with it. As more people commented on your weight, the more you abandoned those safe methods. Normally he would catch on and try to intervene, but he just got back from tour two days ago and hasn't been able to see you until today.

"Hyung, they're calling us to go on next." Innie says softly.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go on without me. I can't right now." He says, not taking his eyes off you. Jeongin gives Chan a worried look. Chan nods and calls Innie to join the rest of the group.

"I'm...I'm fine, no need to make a fuss." You mutter, finally stirring and pushing the medical staff away from you as they try to put an IV in.

"No the fuck you aren't." Changbin didn't care if he was going to cause a scene. He didn't care if it was going to cause a scandal, either his behavior with you or the fact that he swore. He just didn't care.

"Binnie?" You look over to your side to meet your boyfriend's worried face.

"Just let them take care of you, Y/N. We'll talk later." He says softly. You nod your head and slowly lie back down.

***

You and Changbin sit together on the couch backstage, watching his group perform without him. Your head is resting on his shoulder and he is holding your hand. Neither of you care about hiding your relationship anyone more. You both know that none of the other idols are going to say anything and if the staff value their jobs, they won't.

"You should be out there with them." You speak softly, poking his sides.

"Why didn't you come to me when things got bad again?" He asks in the same tone, his eyes not leaving the stage.

"Changbin," You forgot how one-track minded he is, "I didn't want to bother you."

"I'm your boyfriend! Your problems are my problems!"

"Okay, shh..." You take your free hand and rub his back.

"I shouldn't be able to pick you up like a ragdoll." He whispers, finally looking at me. His eyes are red and glossy, like he's about to cry.

"I know, Bin. I'm sorry."

"You don't have you be sorry. I'll help you, okay? When you're ready, I'll help you."

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (1,537 words)

"Hyunjin? Are you okay?" Chan asked the younger man who was currently glues to his tablet.

"I am, but I'm not sure Y/N is. She looks...off." He squints his eyes focuses on you.

Your group is currently doing a concert. And while it’s local, Hyunjin had to miss it because the kids had to record for their next album. Instead, he has to watch you perform from a shitty live stream. When he’s not in the booth recording his parts, he’s watching you on his phone.

“It’s probably just the stream.” Felix says, looking over Hyunjin's shoulder.

“It’s not even fair! Why do I have to be here? I already recorded all my parts!” Hyunjin whined, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’m going to kill him. I’ve had to listen to this all day. We’re all okay being just 7, right?” Minho pipes from the other side of the room.

“Minho, I know he’s annoying, but please don’t kill Hyunjin. Hyunjin, I tried to get you done early so you could go but you were so excited you kept messing up. Now can you guys please shut up, I’m trying to focus on In.” Chan is right, he got Hyunjin in the booth first and even tried to record his parts in all of their songs instead of recording each song one by one. But unfortunately, by the time he finished recording, the concert had already started and it would have been half over.

You had been on tour for the past few months and today is your last show, ending it back home was almost kismet since Hyunjin was also back home from his own work promotions. He was planning on surprising you at your show, but because of their hectic schedule, the boys only had today to record all of the songs before they had to get them mixed.

Slumping back into the couch, he brings his tablet to his face and tries to focus on you. The fan who was recording the live stream was close enough to see most of the stage. But the connection from their phone with the combination of their camera was bad. Every few minutes, there would be a couple minutes where he could watch a bit of your performance. Watching you do your solo in one of his favorite songs, he was mesmerized. His head bopped along to the song and he was calm for a second, content with just being able to watch you. When you're voice cuts out, he assumes the stream is acting up again. He sits, drumming the side of his tablet like it would fix the problem. He doesn't realize that for once it's not a technical error, but something is wrong with you until he watches your blurry body drop. He sit up quickly and just stares at his screen.

"What's wrong now?" Seungmin asks, not even looking up from his phone.

Hyunjin ignores Seungmin and continues watching the stream. He can hear the fans panicking in the background as the music stops and your members rush to where you remained on the ground.

"Hyunjin?" Changbin asks, nosy after Seungmin's question went unanswered.

You still hadn't gotten up from the floor and your leader and a couple of other members are now addressing the audience as some staff members make their way on stage. Hyunjin pulls out his phone and immediately goes to Twitter. He's not sure what happened. He assumed you fell but the way that you haven't even moved it worrying him. You, your group, and your concert are all already trending on Twitter. He nearly drops his phone as he reads multiple tweets saying you fainted and had to be carried off the stage.

"I need to go." Hyunjin shuts off his tablet and quickly gathered his stuff. He pulls opens up a car service app and orders a car to take him to the venue.

Everyone in the room stops what they're doing and watch Hyunjin move around the small room. Normally, they would just make fun of him and assume that he was being dramatic, yet again, and just trying to go see you. But they can sense something is wrong. Chan stopped the recording and turned to Hyunjin who looked very obviously frazzled.

"What's going on?" Chan takes his head set and turns to Hyunjin, who was now putting on his shoes.

"I don't know. All I know is that Y/N went down and everyone is saying that she fainted and they had to carry her off the stage." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Hyunjin, I know you're scared but wait a minute. If she really fainted and didn't get up they're going to take her to the hospital. You don't even know which one, so wait and try to contact her manager. Going to the venue would be pointless, especially with the traffic from the concert. I'll go with you, just wait like 15 minutes." Minho says, getting his stuff ready to go.

"Hyung--"

"He's right. I know you're scared and worried. We all are, but you need to wait." Chan says, standing up and putting his hand on Hyunjin's shoulder.

"I should have been at that concert, not here recording this fucking album." Hyunjin pushes Chan hand off of his shoulder, so full of anger and anxiety with no place to properly direct it.

"Okay, I think we've been pent up in this room for a while. Hyun, let's go get some air." Minho grabs Hyunjin by the crook of his neck and forces him out of the room.

The second they're outside, Hyunjin pulls out his phone and tries to contact your manager. The phone goes to voicemail. He crouches down to the floor and runs his hands through his hair. Minho puts his hands on his distressed younger member's head.

"I'm sure everything is okay. Maybe she slipped. You know how the stage can me sometimes."

"I was supposed to be there, hyung. She could be seriously hurt and I'm not there." He cries.

Minho pulls out his phone and types something in quietly. After he's done looking for what he wanted, he tapped Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Let's go. Odds are, they're going to the nearest hospital. I know which one it is."

***

By the time Hyunjin and Minho make it to the hospital, you and a few of your members are there. You're awake, hooked up to an iv staring at a wall. You don't even look away when someone knocked at your door.

"Hey," Hyunjin's familiar voice pulls your attention away from the wall.

"Hyun? What--what are you doing here?" You sit up at Hyunjin makes his way to your bed.

"I came to see you, obviously. How are you feeling."

"Tired. Embarrassed. I'm going to be all over the news tomorrow, I just know it."

"If it makes you feel any better, your fans are sending you well wishes." He places a hand on yours.

"I'll have to look later. I just don't feel up to it right now."

"I heard you haven't been eating well."

"It's not what you think."

It's exactly what he thinks. Hyunjin knows that you struggle with food. It started when you first began training with your company and they refused to debut you the first few years you were there because your looks weren't up to their standards. You were fine most of the time, but every once in a while you relapse. A tweet a fan made with a picture of you commenting on how you've been "eating well" on tour set you off this time. That and the added stress of touring, promoting, and working on new music. Everyone started commenting on the weight you gained while touring and it made you self conscious. You started restricting your diet a few weeks ago. Today was extra stressful so you somehow managed to forget to eat on top of everything.

"Please don't lie for my sake. You don't look like you."

"What? Fat?"

"You're not fat."

“Hyun—“

“Hey you,” he presses a finger to your forehead, “stop being mean to my girlfriend.”

You softly giggle. You reach for Hyunjin’s hand and hold it. You missed this. You don’t want to say that your mental health depends on one person, that too much pressure that you don’t want to add on Hyunjin. But normally when you felt like this, when you would start hating yourself, Hyunjin would notice the dark cloud forming over your head a brush it away. But with both of you being busy with work and being several thousands of miles apart, and the toll of of both of your jobs it wasn't possible this time. And when Hyunjin couldn't read your cues, you would come to him. But you knew he was busy getting ready for a comeback and you didn't want to bother him.

"I'm just glad you're okay, babo."

"Hey, a babo can't call someone a babo. And at least I'm not the leader of baboracha."

"Okay, okay, you win. Scooch over," I move over to the side so Hyunjin can climb in.

"We'll talk more tomorrow. Let's just rest, okay my muse?"

"Okay,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

2K notes · View notes

spectersgirl · 8 months

Note

what if harvey specter’s wife worked from home and has a last minute work emergency, so harvey had to take their daughter to work? hope that made sense 😭.

I loved this prompt! I changed it eeeever so slightly but it doesn't affect the overall product. I'm working on making these longer which does mean that it'll take me longer between posts but I'm hoping length makes up for it?? Or maybe this is too long. Idk. I've been writing it for daysssss. I think I don't love the end quarter or so, but I wanted to get it out there. Also I decided to name the daughter, I'm not sure how I feel about doing that versus just using Y/D/N so let me know what you all think? I'd use a different name each time I wrote something with a daughter in it so that it doesn't feel like a series or the same character in different universes.

-----

Work with Dad

Harvey Specter x Reader (except you're barely in it lol)

You rolled over at the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand, fumbling for it and answering sleepily.

"Hello? Oh shit, okay I'm on my way." Immediately, you got up and began rushing around to get ready.

"Who's that?" Harvey mumbled, having woken up to your call.

"Work, there's an emergency and I have to go take care of it. I know you have to work but, I can't take Olivia with me to the restaurant and my parents work today... Do you think you could bring her with you?"

Harvey sighed, knowing you were right. It would be easier for him to bring the four-year-old with him to his office as opposed to the very high-end restaurant you ran. Normally on the days you worked away from the house Olivia was in preschool, but today wasn't a school day for her.

"Yeah, that's fine. I have a pretty easy day today, and it's been a while since she's seen everyone anyway." He said, getting out of bed himself and heading to take a shower.

You quickly yelled to him before you left, thanking him for taking one for the team.

Once Harvey finished his shower, he pulled a suit from the closet and put the dress shirt and pants on, opting to leave his suit jacket off for now, knowing he'd likely have to do some wrangling of a certain toddler. As he had this thought, tiny footsteps sounded down the hall toward the bedroom.

"Hi Daddy" Said the tiny voice of his daughter as she ran toward him, arms in the air.

"Good morning princess! How'd you sleep?" He asked, lifting her with ease and kissing her cheek.

"Good, where's Mama?" She asked, knowing the two of you normally got ready together each morning. She was pretty damn smart for her age, and Harvey knew this fact would get him into trouble someday.

"Mama had to go take care of something at work, but guess what? You get to spend the day with Daddy at the firm!" He told her excitedly, raising his eyebrows.

Olivia was hesitant at first, she didn't know exactly what it was that her dad did every day, but she saw him on his computer a lot, and that didn't seem very exciting to her. She was about to protest this, but then she remembered some of her most favorite people worked with her dad.

"Can we see Mike and Rachel?" She asked.

Harvey laughed, nodding.

"And Donna?"

"And Donna." He confirmed with a smile. "You wanna get dressed so we can go see them?"

Immediately, she began squirming to get down from his grasp. Harvey obliged, following the girl to her room to help her pick out an outfit. She eventually elected for her favorite pink dress with flowers, and Harvey approved, finding her a pair of shoes to match.

A short while later, Harvey and Olivia were headed up to the Pearson Specter offices. She couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to see everyone, and Harvey had to keep reminding her that they had work to do and that they might not be able to be with her as much as she had hoped. Harvey had packed a day's worth of activities in a backpack to keep the little girl occupied in his office, and hopefully out of everyone else's business.

The elevator doors opened, and Olivia nearly pulled Harvey's arm out of the socket trying to get to her favorite people as fast as she could. He scooped her up into his arms, foiling her plans. She adorably crossed her arms in frustration, making Harvey chuckle as he walked toward his office.

"We just have to drop our stuff off in Dad's office first, then we can go see your friends, okay baby?"

She agreed, understanding that the quicker she cooperated, the quicker she got what she wanted.

Harvey put all their stuff down in a small pile on the couch in his office, telling himself he'd deal with it later. He knew Donna wouldn't be in for a little longer as he was earlier today than he normally was, but Mike and Rachel were more than likely already hard at work.

"Alright princess, wanna go see Mike?"

Her eyes went so wide Harvey thought they'd pop out of her head. He laughed and opened his door, pointing down the hall and following as she ran ahead of him. She nearly missed his door she was going so fast, but stopped herself when she noticed him seated at his desk.

"Knock before you go in, Liv" Harvey reminded the girl, grinning when her tiny fist tapped the glass of Mike's office door.

He looked up, not seeing her at first and waving Harvey in and looking back down at his stack of papers.

"You're in early, something wrong?" "MIKE!!!" Olivia yelled, startling the junior partner before realizing what was going on.

"Livi! How's my favorite Specter?" He asked, getting out of his chair to lift her into a bear hug.

She giggled uncontrollably until he set her back down.

"Well, I'd be offended but she happens to be pretty cool, so I'll let you have that." Harvey said, grinning as he watched his daughter run in circles around Mike's office while he chased her. There wasn’t much space in the junior partner's office, so the chase didn’t last very long.

"Where's Rachel?" Olivia wondered out loud. Mike kneeled down to her level.

"Rachel has school in the mornings, so she won't be here for a little bit longer." Mike explained, but this only confused her further.

"But... isn't Rachel a grown-up?" She asked, making Harvey and Mike smile.

"She's in law school, baby. Some grown-ups go to extra school so they can do their special jobs. Daddy went to law school too, and Mama went to business school and cooking school." Harvey explained.

“Did Mike to go extra school?” Olivia asked

Harvey and Mike share a look before looking back at Olivia.

“Mike’s a long story.” Harvey said.

Olivia seemed to be satisfied, or she stopped caring about his answer. Either way, she nodded and continued laughing and playing with Mike while her dad stood off to the side, only a little offended that she hardly even remembered he was still standing there.

He looked down at his watch, noting the time and figuring Donna was probably at her desk by now.

"Liv, do you want to go see if we can find Donna?" Harvey asked, and the little girl screamed like she was at a Taylor Swift show, jumping up and down with pure glee.

"Did she get this excited to see me?" Mike asked. Harvey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not even close, sorry Mike. C'mon kid, let's go" Harvey said, lifting Olivia high in the air and onto his shoulders, holding tightly as he walked.

"Oh Donna, I have a surprise for you," Harvey said over the sounds of his daughter's laughter.

"Well, I wonder what the surprise could be! Hmmm, is it a pony? Oh a pony wouldn’t fit in the elevator… Maybe you should give me a hint." She said facetiously, acting as if she had no idea Olivia was there.

"It's me!" Olivia yelled, unable to keep the ‘surprise’ of her presence in any longer.

"Oh it’s Olivia! Hi beautiful! That’s a way better surprise than a pony!" Donna exclaimed. "How'd you get so lucky to come to work with your dad?"

"Her mama had a work emergency so daddy got to take her in with him, huh Liv?" Harvey explained, and Donna nodded in understanding.

Olivia nodded, smiling down at both Donna and her dad, still up high on his shoulders. She reached her arms toward Donna, so Harvey lowered her to the floor. Donna quickly scooped her up and placed her on her hip, giving the girl hugs and exaggerated cheek kisses.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, who let you get so big?”

Olivia pointed at Harvey, smiling happily.

“Umm no ma’am, I specifically told you to stop growing, if it were up to me you’d still be my tiny little baby.” Harvey said, poking her side playfully. She giggled, pushing his hands away with her tiny ones.

"Have you had fun so far Livi?" Donna asked, and Olivia smiled and nodded profusely.

"I ran down the hall soooo fast and Mike chased me in his office and then me and Daddy found you!"

"Wow Olivia! That sounds like a really cool morning!" A voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see none other than Jessica strutting down the hall.

Harvey knew Jessica wouldn’t particularly love the idea of his four year old daughter hanging around in his office all day, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. He was a parent above anything else, so he was going to do what he had to do.

“Livi, do you remember Jessica?” Harvey asked.

Olivia nodded, a bright smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again cutie” Jessica said with a smile of her own.

“Look I know you’re probably mad but-“

“Harvey relax, I’m not mad. Just as long as she doesn’t get into anything she shouldn’t, she's welcome here." Jessica stated, easing Harvey's mind. He nodded in understanding and watched as she walked back to her office.

"Alright Liv, I've got some work to do in my office and I brought you some fun stuff to do while I work. Maybe later we can come back out and see Donna if she's not too busy, alright?"

Olivia huffed in disappointment, but she knew better than to fight with her dad. He placed his hands out to grab her from Donna, who regrettably handed her over. She had known the little girl since before she was even born, and she loved her like she was her own blood.

Harvey was actually able to get some work done, and Olivia enjoyed her time coloring in her coloring books and playing with the toys her dad had packed for her. Soon enough, she was hungry for lunch and Harvey took her into the kitchen to retrieve the lunchable he had brought her. Eventually, she grew tired and ready for her nap. When Harvey looked over at his couch after a suspiciously long period of silence, he saw her fast asleep. He smiled, standing and taking his suit jacket off, draping it over her small frame. She napped this way for about an hour, and when she woke up, she was overjoyed to learn that Rachel had finally come to the office.

"Rachel!!!" Olivia yelled in the doorway of Rachel's office, and she was quick to run in for a hug.

"Livi! Hi cutie! I heard you were here today, I couldn't wait to get done with school so I could see you!" Rachel said as she scooped the little girl up for a big hug. Olivia wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck happily.

"Do you have fun at big girl school?" Olivia asked.

"Law school is very different from normal school, so it's a lot harder, but it's what I love doing so that makes it fun!" Rachel explained.

"Do you get to color there?"

"No, theres no coloring. There's lots of reading and talking to other students and learning though!"

"I think I like my school better, we get to color and play and sing!"

This made Rachel laugh, and nod her head.

"Keep it that way as long as you can girly." Rachel said.

"Liv, it's almost time to go home. You wanna come say goodbye to everyone?" Harvey interrupted from the doorway.

Olivia nodded sadly, crossing the room to take her father's outstretched hand.

"Bye Rachel, have fun in big girl school."

"I will, bye Livi"

Harvey led her back through the office, stopping at everyone's offices so she could say her goodbyes, stopping at Donna's desk last. She gave the red-haired woman the biggest hug she could, Donna was her most favorite person after all.

When Olivia got home, she was thrilled to find her mom was there waiting for her and Harvey with dinner in the oven. She couldn't resist telling her mother about every last detail of her thrilling day at her dad's job.

"Well that's exciting! It sounds like you were a good little employee for daddy" You mused, looking up at Harvey with a grin.

"She's the best damn paralegal I've ever had. Might just have to hire her" Harvey joked.

"Does that mean I have to go to big girl school? That sounds really not fun."

You and Harvey laughed.

"Baby, if you don't want to go to big girl school we can talk about that when you're older." You reassured.

"You think with that attitude she has she won't want to be a lawyer like her old man?" Harvey said, smirking.

"Oh, she'll want to be in debate before she hits high school."

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #suits #request #requests open

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miraclewoozi · 11 months

Text

ODE TO A CONVERSATION (STUCK IN YOUR THROAT) - c.sc

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else, anyway. (and it hits me — i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do, like i do, like me. is it okay? that i don’t want anybody else touching you like i do.)

pairing; choi seungcheol x fem!reader. genre; smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) with a little bit of plot. friends-ish to lovers to (healthy) exes to fwb to -- warnings; writing early parts of this felt low-key pretentious but it was kinda on purpose because i was trying something stylistic and outside my normal?? so??? but on a real: swearing. alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk at the time of having sex). reader is written to be wearing makeup. it's kinda just filth. proof read but all the words just melted together eventually (if i missed a typo, no i didn't <3) smut warnings under the cut! w/c; 6k. a/n; del water gap’s ode to a conversation stuck in your throat was my most listened to song last year. i now can’t listen to it without thinking about s.coups (i also just point blank can't stop thinking about s.coups) -- enjoy x

smut warnings: big! dick! seungcheol!, making out, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected p-in-v sex (make good choices), lil bit of edging if u squint, overstimulation if u tilt ur head like 82º to the left, manhandling, soft-ish dom!cheol, lotta praise, use of pet names (babe, baby good girl, my girl, sweetheart), kinda possessive!cheol, jealous!cheol, biting and marking (hickeys, digging nails in), light light light light light crying/dacryphilia (not really, like there are Some tears in eyes but just to be safe ig)

Everything with Seungcheol has always been easy.

Easier than with anyone else, anyway.

You’d known him in passing for a long time before anything happened. A friend of a friend — someone you always smiled at and chatted with at social events, because he was easy to smile at, and so very easy to chat to. You can’t even remember which birthday or New Year’s party or Halloween bash or Saturday night jamboree was the first: they’ve since all just dissolved into one pleasantly foggy memory, and every time you saw him thereafter he made you feel so comfortable, so at home that it felt like the hundredth.

And it continued that way for a few years. Pleasantries exchanged in friends' kitchens, conversations across beer-garden tables. Catching up on each other's lives in a hallway outside the bathroom for handfuls of minutes at a time before one of you inevitably got tugged away by the friend you were waiting for. You were comfortable with him, around him: he just had that kind of energy. So on a big group night out one evening, when you found yourself feeling a little uncomfortable being flirted with by someone you had never met, you instinctively flashed Seungcheol a look from across the bar. He came straight over and immediately to your rescue; with him slipping all too naturally into the fake role of your unimpressed significant other, you realised that it was easy to be whisked away under his arm, easy to let him buy you your next drink, easy to let him kiss you breathless just to really drive the pretend point home.

Staring up at him after, feeling his drink-chilled hands cupping your cheeks, watching his gaze flicker between your lips and your eyes, you realised that igniting a spark had never felt so…

And it was easy to kiss him again later that night under the influence of a little too much wine and blanketed by a couple of lowered inhibitions. It was easy to giggle into the crook of his neck as he leaned against a stone wall, trailing his fingers up and down your arms, rambling about how he wanted to kiss you again and again and again and forever, maybe, because he thought your smile was beautiful and your lips were so soft and you tasted like cherries, and he liked cherries, and if you could kiss him every day he’d never have a reason to be unhappy ever again. It was so fucking easy to fumble in your purse for your phone, to let him put in his number, and when he asked you if he could take you out for dinner, when he messily typed a text message out begging the same question and sent it to you (‘so we both remember, tomorrow’), it was so, so easy to say yes.

Then, the first date? It was beyond easy. You talked and talked and laughed and laughed, each of you having a few cocktails with your food, never running short of conversation, never not finding little ways to touch each other both under and over the table. Arranging the second, and then the third, and inviting him up for a coffee after date number five was easy, and falling into bed with him was easy. Holding him close, your sweat-slicked bodies moving as one entity in the dark: it was easy, and the pillow-talk after about what this growing thing between you was, came so damn…

So you introduced him to your parents, and your other friends, and in turn he did the same with you. Two and a half years breezed by, then, and even the hard parts… Even the arguing and time spent away from one-another, whether he was sleeping out on your couch following an emotionally charged spat or trips taken as part of his job demanded he spend weeks at a time without you. The hard parts? By comparison to everyone before him, they were easy. Anniversaries and birthdays and Valentine’s days: he spoiled you, and you doted on him, and being together was just so–…

Even the day you decided to end your romantic pursuit, while impassioned, wasn’t hard. In part, maybe it was because it was a long time coming: you still loved each other deeply but your lives were so chaotic and different, and it wasn’t fair to keep waiting around for each other when it just clearly wasn’t your time. And in part, because he was so calm in how he held your hand tightly in his (even when he dried your tears), how he kissed your forehead, in how he told you that you deserved more than the life he could give you. And at the end of it all, when he promised to always be there for you, naturally you promised the same back.

Keeping that promise? Well. It was easy.

So what if it took a few weeks for things to feel sort of normal? If you had to remember how to greet him without offering your lips for a kiss or your arms for a hug? If you had to get used to sleeping alone, and waking up alone, all over again? The thing that mattered was that he was still in your life, and you were still in his: your relationship wasn’t broken, it was just different, and once the little transition period was over, once you were both used to your new normal… Being ‘just friends’ was kind of easy.

(Kind of, being the operative phrase.)

Six months post split, you mentioned to him in passing that you were going on a date the following day. As soon as you realised what you’d said, you regretted bringing it up, but without missing a beat Seungcheol lowered his drink and raised an eyebrow at you, excitedly asking you to tell him everything. The person’s name, what they were like, how you met them, where you were going. He didn’t feel like your ex-boyfriend, then and there: he felt like a best friend. So you told him every detail, and he listened intently, following up by requesting you text him when you got to the date and again when you got home so he knew you were safe. Of course, you said that you would. First, because it was sensible. Second, his requests were easy enough.

And the date went okay, all things considered: the guy was nice, if a little bit awkward, and you had a good time bowling with him and playing some games in the old arcade, but there just wasn’t a spark. Everything felt difficult. Forced. So when he was the one to say to you after that he’d had a nice evening but felt that maybe you should just be friends, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Letting out a breath and giving a genuine smile, you agreed, thanking him for his refreshing candour, before bidding him good night and making your way back to your car.

You held your phone between your fingertips for a while as the engine ran and the heating started to kick in, slowly warming you from the outside, in. As you thawed, you bit the inside of your cheek absentmindedly, a potentially questionable decision planting itself in your mind. Your body didn’t mind how good of an idea your brain thought it was, though. Your fingers moved entirely of their own accord; finding and pressing Seungcheol’s contact name was so starkly different to everything else had been, all damn night. It was easy. His sleep-roughened voice drifting down the phone sounded so easy. Asking if he minded you swinging by his place for a coffee and a debrief felt easy.

Two hours later, writhing on his mattress, two orgasms deep with his head still buried between your thighs and one of his hands groping at your tit as if his life depended on it?

Fucking. Easy.

So then, started the pattern. Waking up the next morning absolutely swimming in one of his oversized t-shirts should’ve felt like guilt and a betrayal of all your self-growth, of your moving on, of your friendship. It should’ve felt uncomfortable and gross and maybe a little panic-inducing, but it never did. It was warm and cosy, it was familiar and comforting, and when he greeted you ‘good morning’ with a pillow to the face, you knew that nothing was ruined; rather, this was just another new difference to your ever-changing relationship with him. Waking up this way… Well, it felt—

Look, you’re only human. You both have needs. After spending two and a half years learning each other's bodies, being together in that way again came so, so…

After every date gone wrong, after every stressful week at work, in the midst of every family drama and friendship breakdown, you found yourself seeking respite in his apartment, between his bedsheets. In his tongue lapping at your pussy; in the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat until he spilled his release into your mouth; in the slow, deep, precise thrusts of his hips as he buried himself inside you over and over and over and over, taking your mind off the stress and concentrating only on making you feel good, on helping you forget everyone and everything else–…

And now?

Well, now, you’re on your way back from yet another miserable date.

About three months ago, you stopped even considering giving the taxi drivers directions to your own place. Now, when you slide into the backseat, you automatically reel off the address you always end up at after a night like this. When your dates only talk about themselves, or say something so wildly out of pocket that it makes your toes curl (and not in a good way), or exclusively go on and on and on about their ‘crazy’ ex partner, you’ve grown all too used to showing up pouting at your friend’s front door.

What?

Being greeted by his knowing smirk and him inviting you inside is familiar; stepping across the threshold and kicking off your shoes in the hallway feels just so… easy.

Flopping down on the couch is easy, and waiting for Seungcheol to come back into the living room with two gleaming glasses and a bottle of wine is easy. Shuffling closer until you have your head resting against his shoulder is easy. Sipping at a chilled glass of rosé with his arm around you, the tip of his finger rubbing tiny circles against the point of your shoulder, eyes fluttering at this perfectly normal, totally platonic, absolutely-not-leading-anywhere-this-time contact is…

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks a few seconds after you set your now half-empty glass down. Your lips curl a little into a grimace on one side and a soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest.

You swear you can feel it vibrate all the way down to your bones.

“What is there to even talk about?” you sigh. “He wouldn’t stop comparing me to his mother, strike one. Spent twenty minutes explaining the plot of my favourite movie back to me, strike two. And then, after all that, threw a tantrum when I swerved his kiss goodbye after he’d eaten basically a whole loaf of garlic bread. Strike three. You’re out.”

He laughs again, and you adjust your head to peer up at him but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring off at the opposite wall, not even glancing down when his arm tightens to pull you even closer. On cue, you nuzzle your head down into the muscle beneath his t-shirt, and you sigh.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says breezily. “Just… You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“I don’t deliberately go out with people one screw short of a toolbox, Cheol,” you grumble, lightly slapping his chest. “They always seem fine when we start talking.”

“Mhm,” he hums. You feel him move slightly and then his lips are being pressed to the part of your hair. You’re sure it’s supposed to be a little condescending, but it kind of tingles instead. But that’s just because of the way his breaths play over your roots. Isn’t it? “I know.”

“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to find someone who—”

“Hey, I know, y/n,” he says again, still softly but just a little firmer this time. “It’s not your fault all these guys are dicks. But-…”

He trails off, tongue pressed lightly against his top teeth, and decides that maybe finishing this sentence isn’t the smart way to proceed. You wait a few seconds, just in case he changes his mind, and poke at his chest again when he doesn’t.

“But what?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It was a stupid joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me,” you whine. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

It’s his turn to sigh, now. “But…” he starts, pausing for a mixture of allowing his nerves to settle and for dramatic effect. “I’m not complaining: the worse your date goes, the better sex we have after.”

It momentarily stuns you into silence and you suck your teeth at the remark, shaking your head. But you don’t sit up, you don’t shove him away, you don’t argue the point he’s just made whether it was a joke or not. Because…

“I hate that you’re right.”

His hand slides down behind you until it’s wrapped around your waist, his bicep strong against your back and his fingers light as they fiddle with the fabric of your blouse.

“No you don’t,” he tells you, lips tweaking up on one side.

You sigh, burrowing closer into his chest. He’s wearing the cologne he knows you like most and it smells faint, worn, as if he’s had it on for hours, all despite being only dressed in basketball shorts and a white vest. His plans tonight started and ended with you, and showing up here wasn’t promised until you were on his doorstep. Something about knowing he wore it just in case triggers an all too familiar ache between your legs.

Giving in to it?

Ha.

It’s too fucking easy.

“Shut up,” you grumble. Your hand uncurls and your fingers splay over his chest, confessing your agreement and laying the foundations for you even if you deny what you want out loud. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” He asks at the exact moment you can feel his nails graze at your skin beneath your shirt. “Do you really?”

“Yeah.” You shift slightly, searching for just a crumb of relief from the press of your thighs, but it never comes.

“I see.” He flattens his palm against your side, the other hand tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes not quite meeting yours as they fixate on the strands already sliding back to their former place against your cheek.

He gently clears his throat, tongue darting out over his lips for the most fleeting of moments, and when he speaks again, it’s lower, quieter, softer. “But if you hate it sooo much…” he ducks his head, close enough that his lips brush the corner of your mouth as he moves them. “Why are you here?”

He bumps the tip of his nose against your cheek, subtly turning your face so if you so much as shuffle, hiccup, breathe in too deeply, your smiles would meet. But they don’t. A hair’s breadth apart, you linger, eyes meeting his in a scorching challenge. One he doesn’t back down from. One he holds, and holds, and holds – waiting, for you, for his answer.

“Because,” you croak. Your throat feels dry, your eyelids suddenly heavy, lashes fluttering.

“Because?” he taunts, his chuckled exhale tickling the tiny hairs all over your skin.

You maintain his gaze still, and he chuckles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. when you don’t speak for a few seconds more, he takes it upon himself to finish the sentence for you.

“Because you know,” he drawls, gravelly but still somehow heaven-sent and honey-sweet. “That no-one else does it for you the same way I do. Do they?”

You shake your head, the muscles in your neck tight as you wrestle with them not to surge forward and topple against him in a kiss. Seungcheol is an easily pleased man, but you know he loves a bit of a chase and it would be a little rude not to reward his hospitality by giving him one.

“Say it,” he urges. You’re acutely aware of how his breaths stop fanning against your face once the words are out of his mouth, but you don’t give him anything yet. “Come on. You could have any one of those idiots if you wanted them, but you don’t.” A pause. “Do you?”

You swallow hard, cheeks growing hot. You shake your head again, “No.”

“Because…”

And after one, two, three, four, five thundering beats of your heart—

“Because I want you.”

Seungcheol smirks as he pulls your chin up, finally bringing his plush lips down against your own. It’s soft. almost tender. Barely moving — just a press, but it sends waves of energy through you anyway.

“You’ve got me,” he says, pulling back an inch, studying your desperate eyes with his own. “Always gonna have me.”

And suddenly, it’s like his entire world might stop if he lets you go.

Both of his hands cup your cheeks as you shift up onto your knees, your own fingers grasping for dear life at his vest. He kisses you as if he could swallow you whole: hard and deep, breathing hot through his nose as his tongue works its way into your mouth and finds your own. You groan, and hearing the sound draws one out of him, too. There’s just something about kissing Seungcheol, and being kissed by him: you don’t even have to think. He just does. You just do. It’s easy.

His hands find the bottom of your shirt and he pulls upwards, separating from your lips to pull it over your head and toss it haphazardly towards the floor. He reconnects with you almost immediately, hands sliding down from your face to your exposed neck, to your shoulders, toying with the strap of your bra.

“You wear this for me, or him?” he asks, breathing heavily as he looks down at your covered tits, the red and white garment sitting pretty against your skin.

“Who d’you think?” you ask, equally fighting to gasp air into your lungs.

“Better not have been for fuckin’... Captain mommy issues,” he mutters, kissing you hard one more time before his lips attach to the side of your neck. “Never liked the sound of that guy. Thought you were too good for him.”

“S’that right?” You ask, tilting your head back and stuttering out a sigh, lacing it with wisps of a laugh. “You never said so.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth and you swear you can feel every capillary beneath the surface burst one by one, your body-heat climbing to almost unbearable territory. “You were excited,” he says. “Just ‘cause I don't agree with your choices, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be an ass about it.”

And for someone trying their best to cover your throat in as many bruises as possible (no doubt so that if you bump into the asshole from HR who took you out tonight when you’re back at work on Monday, he’ll see that you had a plenty good time without him), it… feels kind of sweet that he’d hold himself back in the name of your theoretical happiness.

“Too good to me,” you chuckle. You’ve long since released your hold on his vest and are now threading your fingers through his hair. He kisses and sucks down over your collarbone, grinning against your skin all the while.

“So?” he asks, tugging the top of your bra in between his teeth.

You glance down at him, biting your bottom lip at the sight. His pupils are blown-out, drowning his familiar warm, chocolatey eyes in black pools of desire. No lies, that’s always been your agreement. No lies. So you tell him the truth, pushing your chest up towards him and pressing his head down slightly so his top lip brushes against your tit.

“Wore it for you, Cheol.”

“Mhm. That’s my girl.”

He sits up straight and pulls you down to him, smashing his lips against yours again as his hands slide around your back, fingertips making quick work of your bra clasp. He pulls the straps down your arms, grunting at the feeling of your breasts relaxing against his own chest; the bra joins your shirt on the floor, and soon after follows his vest, your hands clawing at it to get it off him as fast as you can.

“Up,” he says as your hands trail over his stomach, fingers dipping into every groove of muscle, feeling how they ripple as he reflexively tenses them under your touch. “Now.”

You oblige, climbing off the couch and standing upright. His hand finds the back of your shoulder and he guides you around to the side of the sofa, promptly pushing you down over the arm-rest so your face meets the cushions you were both just sitting on. He pulls your pants down your legs and helps you step out of them, dropping down to his knees and kneading at your thighs with a guttural moan.

“Gonna make you forget all about him, y/n,” he says. “Make you feel so good you won’t even remember his name.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your ass. “So-... fucking good to me…”

He adjusts the position of your legs, bumping them apart until he can settle on his knees between them. His nose drags against the crease between the top of your thigh and the bottom of your ass, his lips trailing kisses all the way from the outside of your leg to where your pussy is throbbing for him. He skips over it, though, nipping and licking at the back of your other thigh, until you’re rocking your hips back to try and push him into your core.

“Be a good girl,” he chuckles, thumbing over the wet-patch in your panties. “I’m gonna look after you. I promise.”

His tongue meets your wetness just a moment after, dragging over the fabric and making you whimper. Your hands scramble to clutch onto something, one grabbing the edge of the seat cushion and the other balling into a fist.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss, feeling the heat from his mouth all over you. “Please – I need it. I need you.”

“Shh,” he says. You can feel his lips twist into a smile. God, you wish you could see him right now. “I’ve got you.”

When exactly his fingers tucked themselves under the waistband of your underwear, you’re not sure: all you know is that one minute, he’s breathing in your scent through the seat of your panties, and the next he’s yanking them down your legs and diving into your cunt like it’s his last meal on death-row. The sheer force of his hands gripping your thighs and his head burying itself between them makes you stumble forwards, the couch groaning as it shifts against the laminate flooring, and you cry out a wet sob of his name.

Who were you kidding, before, when you thought that this wasn’t going to go anywhere tonight?

The build-up to this started the second you told him about the date a week and a half ago.

But you can’t think about the mediocre pasta dish you ate this evening, or the moron who sat across from you at the table who kept checking his phone and glancing over your shoulder. You can’t think about how many times he went to the bathroom after receiving a text, or how he came back grinning cockily before he sat back down.

All you can think about is how deep Seungcheol’s tongue fucks into you. How he fucking slurps all the wetness your pussy can give him, how he groans and moans and chuckles every time he shifts his head forward and flicks the muscle over your clit. Your head is spinning and your eyes begin smarting at the corners when his nails on one hand dig harshly into the fat at the top of your thigh. It stings, but it feels so fucking good. Your knees are weak, you’re about to bite clean through your lip in an attempt to be respectful to Seungcheol’s neighbours, and your knuckles are sore from the force with which your fist is clenched.

Lord, he’s good.

“Don’t hold back,” he gasps, pulling away from you, a string of his own spit and your arousal still connecting him to your pussy. “C’mon, babe. I can feel you’re close.”

The loss of his mouth genuinely feels like the end of the world and you could buckle, in this moment. But he’s done this on purpose: he always does. He knows you. He knows the sounds you make and the way your body moves when you’re tantalisingly on the edge of your climax. His thumbs rub circles into your thighs and you just know he’s got the most obnoxious, insufferable grin on his face behind you while he does it: you can picture it, so perfectly. So easily.

The orgasm you didn’t quite reach starts to ebb away from you and you give a grumble of frustration, pushing up onto your palms to turn around and look at him.

“You’re such a bastard, Cheol,” you hiss, and he grins back at you, his lips swollen and shiny as he licks over them.

“Get that pretty face back down, baby. I’m not done.”

It feels like a delightful punch in the gut, so you do. You drop back down onto your elbows, feeling him shift his position but you can’t see to what; his body heat never leaves yours even when his hands aren’t on you anymore, so you know he hasn’t stood up or gone far. It’s only when you clear your throat that you feel him again. Sat down with his back to the couch, between your thighs, nosing at your clit to get you worked up all over again: his fingers trail over your folds, collecting your arousal, spreading your lips and tonguing between them. You whine for him, keening and confused but overwhelmed at the stark shift from before. How he touches your pussy like it’s the first time, like it’s the last.

He presses one long finger inside you, free hand pushing your hips into just the right position that he can suck your clit into his mouth. You feel yourself grinding down against his hand, begging him for more without having the words to ask for it, but Seungcheol doesn’t need to be asked. It’s intuitive to him. Eating you out could well be his day job. Another finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out of you at a pace you adore, his tongue flicking precisely over the bud in his mouth.

Your disappointingly lost orgasm from before starts to creep up on you again, and you know he knows it too. But this time, he doesn’t slow. This time, he doesn’t stop. He hums in the back of his throat: it’s permission, you realise, to come undone; burying your face further into the cushions, you let out a muffled series of expletives, sobs, moans of his name. You tumble over the edge with a broken cry, fingers curling into the couch cushions, and he only pulls away when your knees actually give out.

His strong frame is the only thing still holding you up by the time you’ve stopped twitching through the aftershocks, remembering how it feels to have full lungs and a working pair of eyes. You roll your head to the side as he slips out from beneath you, immediately sliding his arm around your waist and leaning over you to keep you steady. Through the material of his shorts, you can feel his hard-on poking at your ass: the fact that you’re this fucked and he hasn’t put his cock inside you yet makes your eyes water.

“Okay?” he asks, pressing tender kisses down the length of your spine. You just breathe, nodding with difficulty owed to your current position and the way all your muscles suddenly feel a hundred times heavier than normal. “Talk to me, sweetheart. You okay?”

“M’okay,” you say. “Just… gimme a sec…”

He keeps pressing his lips all over your back, hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips as you fully recover. You nod again when you’re a little more communicative, pushing up onto your elbows once more.

“Said I’d look after you,” he says. “And you were so good for me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, swallowing hard as you twist your spine uncomfortably to look back at him. Fuck it, maybe he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Is that some great secret? Is it such a crime?

“You always are, baby.”

He looks down at you again: at the shape of your body, bent so crudely over the arm of his couch. At your messed-up hair, your smeared makeup, your soft, dewy eyes. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing hard, running a finger from between your shoulder-blades all the way down towards your ass.

“Can I?” he asks, pushing his hips against you again, your still-soaked pussy smearing arousal all over the front of his shorts where it meets them.

“Please,” you nod, shifting your legs slightly to try and get more comfortable. He drops his shorts in a matter of seconds, cock springing free from their confines. It’s thick and veiny, leaking in his palm as he strokes it, one hand coming back to rest on your hip.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighs. “You’re doing so good.”

The head feels delicious against your swollen cunt and you gasp at the pressure of him sliding through your folds, leisurely lubing himself up with your arousal. It glides over your clit and you can’t contain the slight hiss that escapes you. He starts to say something, his voice just audible to you where you’re propped, but for some reason he stops short, and you don’t quite hear him anyway. There’s not enough time to dwell on it though: your eyelashes flutter closed when he prods at your entrance, pushing into you with hardly any resistance at all, and his unstarted, unfinished sentence is forgotten.

It’s still a stretch to take him and he eases himself deeper until his hips are pressed fully against your ass. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust, letting your body mould to the shape of his own, and it’s only when you reach back with one hand to gently nudge against his wrist to give an okay that he starts to move.

“Good girl,” he says, quieter this time. Like he’s distracted. Like he’s contemplating. But you don’t ask, because you don’t really want to know: every drag of his cock against your walls feels like fireworks bursting over every inch of your skin, like being engulfed in flame, and nothing could take you out of how electric you feel. “Taking me so, so well.”

His hips start to thrust against you quicker, snapping so his cock buries itself deep but mercilessly quickly into your pussy. It’s only a matter of minutes until you’re clenching around him and when you do, Seungcheol – who you noticed early on into your relationship was one of the most vocal men you’d ever had in the bedroom – stops holding back the sounds you think back to when it’s just you and your trusty vibrator against the world. You swear that half the reason your sexual chemistry with him is so unrivalled is because of how loud you can both get.

You don’t know how long he’s fucking you for, sweat beading over both of your bodies and leaving you slick all over. What you do know, though, is that when he bends down over you, supported by one hand bracing his weight against the cushion by our head, he’s close.

He isn’t groaning and grunting anymore. He’s whining. So agonisingly hard and so painfully wound up that he could snap. His voice is little more than a whimper in your ear when his lips ghost over the shell of it, thrusts slowing as he tries to stave off his high just a little bit longer.

“Wanna drown in this pussy,” he says, eyes squeezed shut, jaw falling slack as you spasm around his length again. “Shit – I love y-... love this… love this so much-...”

And this time, you fucking notice.

This time, you hear him. You know what he said before, now. When you didn’t care, when you just wanted him to fill you up, when you just wanted to have him pound into you until your brain disconnected from failed romances and shitty dating apps and people who weren’t him. Because he started to say it then, too – started to say I love y–

And this time… you say it, back.

“I love you too, Cheol.”

Jesus, fuck.

Loving Choi Seungcheol is the easiest thing in the world.

He freezes, buried inside you all the way to the hilt, a bead of sweat running down the bridge of his nose and hanging onto the tip for dear life. His eyes shoot open, his head turns, and you meet his gaze by turning your own. He’s feeling everything. All at once. So are you. Arousal and need and fear – God, so much fucking fear – but love. Adoration, affection, endearment, devotion – shit, he feels it all, and it’s written in every line of his face, and when his lips move into a smile, when the corners of his eyes crease, when he lets it wash over him, it feels better than any orgasm he’ll have for the rest of his life.

Even the one that explodes through him when you start to grind yourself back on his cock and he lets go, fingers scrabbling to hold your hand, lips finding home on the back of your shoulder. He paints your insides with his cum, fucks it into you for as long as he can physically withstand. You don’t even have it in you to chase another climax of your own, too blissed out in the relief of your own feelings to feel inclined to try.

So, maybe there’s a reason you kept accepting dates with men you knew you weren’t compatible with.

Maybe there’s a reason you didn’t give those other people a real chance.

Maybe there’s a reason you always found yourself looking forward to the end of every night having dinner with a stranger.

Because all the roads lead you here. Because it’s easy being here – it’s where you belong.

He stays sheathed inside you for a little while longer, pressing kisses everywhere his lips can reach before he has to pull his softening cock from its home between your legs. You lament at the feeling of emptiness, even as his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright for the first time in so long that your legs feel like jelly. It’s okay, though. He holds you against his chest, burying his head into your neck – there’s no way you’re going to fall.

(At least, no more than you already have.)

“I’ll give you everything,” he whispers to you, moving your hair out the way so he can press small, doting kisses to the line of your jaw. “I can give it to you. I was a fucking idiot before – I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t know if I can be perfect but anything you want–...”

“I just want you, Cheol,” you tell him. “Everything – screw all that. I just want you.”

“Be with me?” he asks. You nod, feeling him light up in a smile for the hundredth time tonight. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure it’s as blindingly beautiful as the first smile he sent your way, all those years ago. (It was Joshua’s birthday. You remember that, now.) And the second. And every damn time since. “Forever, this time.”

“Forever, this time,” you agree.

Because spending forever with the man who lifts you into his arms and carries you towards his shower, so you can clean down and get ready for bed? Right now, it sounds so –

But everything with Seungcheol has always been easy. Easier than with anyone else.

thank u so much for reading! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so appreciated<3

#s.coups smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups x reader #j writes.#*#i am running into the woods and never coming back. i don't know who i became while writing this. it wasn't me it was patricia.#send help. i had one singular marble left. seungcheol has fucking FLOWN away with it. i have gone fully fucking insane.#good BY E

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angel-kyo · 4 months

Text

Pay it no mind

Part XIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a mention of a small accidental cut on reader's hand and broken glass.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII

----------------------

“Are you sure you don’t want me to heal it?” Shoko was covering a cut on your hand. “I’ll get it right this time.” She had disinfected and treated the small cut, and now she had secured the bandage tightly around your palm.

Shoko had found you fumbling around in the infirmary for something to cover your cut with. She was still just starting to dive in the possibilities of her healing technique, but when she held your hand with such care, you had no doubt: She will make a great doctor.

“Are you sure you don’t just want another test subject for your technique?”

She smiled. “I have plenty of those,” but her smile faltered as she saw your eyes fixed on your injured hand, “so don’t make it a habit of showing up hurt. I don't need more practice, okay?”

When your eyes flickered back to her, you saw her gaze was softer.

The cut in your hand was not deep, and it was not the work of a curse of any sort; in fact, the reason was pretty mundane: a crystal-made object had broken in your room, and you had hurt yourself accidentally when trying to pick the pieces up. That was what you had told Shoko, and that was what you were going to tell anyone who asked.

Although that was a summarized version of the truth. Something had been broken, yes, but that had been Gojo’s fault, or so it seemed, but you were not sure. In his words, it was an accident.

You wanted to believe him. He was not the type to break things when upset after all. However, it felt as if your friendship was breaking apart as well, and that, you did not know how to mend.

***

Satoru had been odd around you for the last couple of weeks, and he had been particularly upset after you showed up a few minutes late to his birthday lunch, as if he himself did not show up late everywhere, every time. Then he stopped by your room to invite you to the arcade with him and Suguru as if everything had been perfectly normal.

“What’s this?” He was trying to peek into the paper bag sitting on your desk while you were looking for a sweater that was warm enough. “Late birthday present?”

“Why do you think everything is a present for you? I already gave you one for your birthday”, was your response as you finally pulled the sweater you had been looking for from your closet. “Don’t touch it, it’s frail.”

That made him arch an eyebrow.

You narrowed your eyes in his direction as a warning. Satoru was nosy, always had been. When he was a kid and you refused to tell him something, he would sulk until you gave in. Telling him you knew something he did not know was an easy way to tease him, and he had not changed much.

You stood next to him and took the contents out of the bag, taking off the wrapping that was meant to protect it, and held it up to him. A pretty crystal figure you had gotten during your last outing. The item could be considered a collectible of an anime you liked, but it was nicely shaped, and it had been the way it looked in the light what had caught your eye at the store where you got it.

Satoru was not a fan of that same anime, but even he recognized it was a pretty thing. He was about to grab it when you said “A bit pricey too, but Haruki helped me buy it.”

You did not notice how his smile dropped.

“So I guess it technically belongs to both of us, but he said I could keep it.”

It had been a most generous gesture. When Haruki had seen how much you wanted to take the figure home, he was more than willing to pitch in a little despite your protests. You assured him you would pay him back as soon as you could, but he said it was fine; he liked that franchise too, so it was not a loss to him.

Satoru’s hands were redirected to his pockets. “That was nice of him.”

You nodded and put the figure on your desk, admiring it. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

He hummed in response, and you said “Well, we should get going if…”

“I thought you didn’t like it when people bought you stuff.” Gojo’s gaze was fixed on the figure you had just put on your desk.

He was recalling the gifts he had presented to you through the years. More than one had been “overpriced”, “too much”, or “too lavish” for your taste. You had always been too ready to decline anything from him, but you had no issues with accepting someone else’s help?

“And I do not,” you tried to decipher his expression, “but I paid for it too, and it’s different.” You were going to pay Haruki back, no matter what he had said.

“Because it’s him?” Satoru’s eyes focused on you.

“Huh?”

“Is it different because it’s him and you just do whatever he says?” His tone was calm, so much that it reminded you of the way Suguru sometimes reverted with the snarkiest remark while sounding completely disinterested.

It’s rubbing off on him.

“What do you mean I do whatever he says?”

Satoru knew he should bite his tongue before saying anything that could backfire, but he did not.

“If he says you will like something, you try it; if he tells you to accept something, you take it; and if he asks you to stay with him for a little longer, you’ll do it even if it means you’ll ditch your friend on his birthday.”

All right, he had said it.

“I said I was sorry for being late. How many times do you want me to apologize for it?” You understood why he could have been upset; you really did. But why was he fixating on it so much?

Sure, you and Haruki shared a lot of interests, so his recommendations were often good. And he had been so intent on helping you buy that figure that refusing him would have been rude, and yes, you had been with him that day you were late for Satoru’s lunch, but that had not the reason, and the main event was going to be his birthday dinner anyway (because yes, Satoru insisted on having a birthday breakfast, a birthday lunch and a birthday dinner). You could take the blame for making it late one time, but he was taking it out of proportion.

He sat down on the chair at your desk. “I thought you were not going to come.” Satoru sounded deflated.

Still…

“Satoru, I wouldn’t…”

“If you had to choose, who do you like better…” You thought he was looking at the crystal-made you had gotten, but he was actually looking at the small, framed picture behind it that portrayed two kids. Satoru tried to remember if it was from four or five years ago.

Before high school, you had never attended the same school. Satoru’s family did not allow it, but he was able to sneak out a handful of times when you invited him to your school festivals.

Maybe their last year of elementary school or the first of junior high?

He remembered how you pulled him around all day, introducing him to your friends and showing him around your school.

“Don’t you have to be with your friends?” he had asked referring to your classmates, who seemed to be expecting you join them on a walk around the stalls.

You looked at them and declined with a smile. “No, they are fine without me. Besides, I like you better.”

And when a friend of yours offered to take a picture of you with the camera she had borrowed, you pulled him closer to you and smiled brightly. If he focused, he could hear the shutter sound of the camera.

“Why would you ask me that?” You tried to look at his eyes behind his glasses. You thought he should know the answer, but it was not a fair question, so you settled for just stating the facts. “Both of you are my friends.”

That single phrase seemed to have slapped Satoru on the face and he turned his head to look at you.

“True, but you are not just any friend. And you know it, don’t you, Satoru?”

No, Ikeda. You were wrong.

“You can’t be serious,” he muttered.

“Would you be able to pick between me and Suguru?” You were not meaning to irritate him, but that should give him some perspective. Whenever he was not with you, he was with Suguru. It was evident he cared deeply for him.

He frowned. “It’s not the same. You like him too.”

“Because I gave him a chance. You never gave one to Haruki.”

Satoru shook his head, standing up. “And that makes us the same to you?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Of course not. You are like no other.

Could you really tell him that? It did not matter, he did not give you the time.

“Fine... I really don’t get you sometimes.”

“You don’t get me?” you scoffed. “You are unrecognizable. Why are you so pissed out all the time these days.”

He sighed, took off his glasses and put them on your desk. “Just…”

You were right. He had been uneasy since that chat with Ikeda (not that he had told you about it), but he had gone there because of you. He did not need that guy trying to get in his head, telling him he liked you, or that he was a coward. He did not need any of that.

What a terrible idea that was.

If he had not gone there, maybe he would not feel as confused, as if he needed to scream something but not knowing what it was.

Now you were looking at him with a question in your eyes, but he was not sure he could answer.

“Just...you should head out, okay?” he finally said.

“This is my room.”

“I mean, Suguru will be waiting for us.” He scratched the back of his neck.

You knew he meant ‘I don’t want to fight you now.’

“Fine.” You turned on your heels and walked out with Satoru following you but left him behind quickly.

Always a fast walker when they are upset, Satoru thought.

He was about to close the door of your room when he membered he was forgetting something.

There, his sunglasses were sitting on top of your desk. He rushed to the side of your desk and grabbed them, and maybe it was the swift motion of his arm, or he might have bumped the side of your desk lightly, but as he was running back for the door, a shattering noise reached him, and next thing he knew, he was looking at a bunch of crystal pieces on the floor.

Shit.

Satoru’s heart rate picked up as if he were about to fight a curse as he walked out and closed the door slowly. How was he going to tell you?

His hand was still on the doorknob when he heard your voice. “Satoru?”

You were coming back for him after realizing he was not following behind. “What are you doing?” You looked at him. Why was he holding your doorknob and looking at the floor?

He turned to look at you, but he did not move his hand. “I will replace it.”

“Replace it?”

“I’m sorry.” He turned the doorknob and the door swung open.

You passed him by to enter your dorm. “What are you talk-?”, you did not finish the question when you saw the mess next to your desk. Your crouched down in front of it. It had shattered entirely; you picked up the base, the only piece somewhat still recognizable.

“You are going to get hurt. Let me…” Satoru was crouching next to you.

“Are you hurt?” You moved away from him.

“[name]…”

“How?” Satoru thought he saw tears forming in your eyes. He avoided your gaze.

“It was an accident. I came back for my...”

“Are you hurt?” You were not looking at him anymore but at the million pieces scattered in front of you.

“No.”

He saw you bite your lip and nod from the corner of his eye. “Then… You should go. I’ll clean this up.”

“I’ll help you.”

“No.”

“I can pay for it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay to have broken it.” You wiped away a stray tear. Was it anger or sadness?

“It wasn’t on purpose.” Satoru defended.

“Wasn’t it?”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Okay. Then let me clean it up. Please tell Geto I’ll join you next time.”

Satoru did not feel like you believed him, but still, he stood up. “I really am sorry.”

He saw you nod and headed out.

He only left because he knew you. You were probably too angry to talk to him now. He would beg for forgiveness later and try to make it up to you. Perhaps he could ask Ikeda where you had gotten the item, but he really did not want to talk to him again.

Even if you could just take the money for it, would that make things right between you and him?

Boy, what a mess.

***

“He snapped at you too?” Shoko grinned at Suguru.

Geto just rolled his eyes and sat by her side.

“He is in a bad mood.” The dark-haired boy shrugged. “Is there any way you can ask [name] to hurry? I'm starving.”

“I doubt it.” She sighed and looked wistfully at the food in front of them and then at Gojo, who had left the table for the third time to wash his hands. He was fidgety when he waited, especially when he waited for you.

She was not going to call you. She had tried that, but your phone had probably died. Maybe if she prayed silently, her wish would reach you.

Hurry up, [name]. Annoying birthday boy won't let us eat until you are here.

----------------------

Note: Sorry for not updating sooner (sigh...what a week). It might happen again but as always, thank you for reading!

Next: Part XIV

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #jjk drabbles #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #pay it no mind

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iamwhoami · 9 months

Text

Babysitting 101

Chicago Med

You and Connor babysit Owen so that Will and Natalie can still have their date night after the babysitter calls in sick.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Nice job back there Dr. Y/L/N," Connor smiled at you.

The two of you had just finished a relatively easy surgery and had returned to the ED to help with the backlog of patients. Between the icy roads and flu season, they could use all the help they could get in there.

"You weren't too shabby either Dr. Rhodes," You shot back and Connor smirked.

"Quit flirting over there lovebirds," Maggie called out, "Y/N you're needed in Treatment 2. Connor, we have an incoming five minutes out, you're going to Baghdad."

"I'll see you after shift then?" Connor quirked an eyebrow and you nodded.

"You bet."

~~~

The rest of your day flew by without any sight of your boyfriend. You were so busy, constantly rushing from one room to next in an attempt to catch up with the schedule.

By the end of your shift, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine and put on your favourite movie while snuggling Connor on the couch.

It was that thought that managed to keep you on your feet.

"I am ready to call it a night," You breathed out while you gathered your items, "I don't know if my feet could stand a moment longer."

"Well, they're going to need to find some juice if you want to get to your car," Maggie joked.

You laughed, "Not if I can convince Connor to carry me there."

"I don't think you'd have any trouble," Maggie said and shook her head, "That man is whipped for you..."

You both chuckled at that but you both also knew it was true. Connor would fly to the moon for you.

"Well, have a good night Y/N," Maggie said and left, leaving you to wait for Connor alone.

You quietly waited on the couch for Connor to finish up his last surgery of the day. Nurses and doctors bustled in and out of the lounge and you wished each and every one of them a good night. You were mostly just on your phone, not actively engaging in any other conversation when you overheard your friend Natalie speaking.

"Sorry Will," She was saying, "The nanny just texted. She can't stay later tonight, something with her sister came up."

"Don't worry about it," Will responded, "I'll cancel the reservation then."

You spoke before you could really think things through, "I can watch Owen!"

When your sudden outburst was met with confused silence, you flushed and fumbled with your words.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard," You mumbled quickly, "But seriously if you guys need someone to watch Owen, Connor and I can totally do it."

"Connor won't mind?" Natalie asked and you shook your head.

You and Connor hadn't really talked about kids but this wasn't anything like that. All you had to do was look after a toddler for a few hours. How hard could that be?

"We don't have anything better to do tonight anyway," You told them, "In fact, I think it'll be really fun!"

Natalie chuckled at your enthusiasm, "Well I can assure you that it won't be dull."

"Exactly," You pointed your finger at her, "You and Will go on your date. Do. Not. Cancel. Connor and I will watch Owen."

Will and Natalie took a moment to look at each other as if they were contemplating your offer. Finally, Natalie turned back to face you and nodded.

"Thank you Y/N," Natalie said genuinely, "I owe you one."

You shook your head though, "Nah...you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I can help."

It was decided that Natalie and Will would go and get ready for their date and that they would drop off Owen when you and Connor were back at your apartment. You figured that you should give Connor a heads up but he was still in surgery and you weren't going to disturb him because he was suddenly on babysitting duty afterwards.

He'd get over it.

About ten minutes later, a tired-looking Connor walked into the doctor's lounge and the deepest part of your gut felt bad that you had dragged him into babysitting Owen after a long shift. That guilt caused you to just stare at your boyfriend for a solid minute before he pointed it out.

"What did you do," Connor demanded teasingly as he turned to face you.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, "Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..." Connor raised an eyebrow, "I know that look Y/N."

You feigned offence, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor only continued to stare at you and after a while, you finally caved.

"Okay fine," You sighed. "You have to promise that you won't get mad."

Connor nodded, "Okay..."

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "I kind of volunteered us to babysit Owen while Nat and Will go on a date."

Silence.

“So…” You stared at Connor, “Thoughts?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You voluntarily agreed to look after a toddler…after working a 12 hour shift…”

“Correct.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, unmoving. After a hot second, Connor let out a slightly exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alrighty then, I suppose we should get going then,” Connor gave you a small smile, “wouldn’t want to keep Nat and Will waiting now would we?”

~~~ Perhaps you had underestimated how exhausting looking after a toddler could be.

No, you definitely had.

Dinner had been tiring enough. Somehow more food had gotten on you and Connor than into Owen's stomach.

"You've got a little something there," Connor teased and wiped mashed potato off your eyebrows.

You laughed, "What? Are you sure it's not my new makeup?"

Game after game. Activity after activity. It just didn't end, and yet somehow, it was you and Connor that were tired out, not Owen.

"Y/N!" Owen's little voice gleefully called out. "Come play!"

You huffed but smiled big for the little boy before pushing yourself onto your feet.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you having some regrets right about now?"

"Pfttt, never," You shook your head as you sat yourself down on the ground next to Owen. "Right buddy? We're having a blast?"

Connor smiled at you affectionately. He couldn't deny that he was tired but he also had zero regrets. You were so good with Owen. The way you spoke to him. The way you naturally were so attuned to his needs. The way you understood his toddler language.

It took about another hour before Owen's energy began to wane. After a ten minute chase around the apartment, you had managed to wrangle Owen into his pajamas and Connor convinced him to brush his teeth.

Another twenty minutes later and Owen was passed out in bed and you and Connor collapsed on the couch.

"I'm not sure which was more exhausting," Connor joked. "Our twelve hour shift or this."

You teased, "Did a toddler outdo you?"

"Absolutely," Connor shook his head. "I was absolutely outdone by a toddler."

Laughing, you leaned against Connor who wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

"You're really good with him you know," Connor softly said.

You hummed, "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Maybe we should babysit more often," Connor added and you scoffed.

"I think we need a few weeks to recover before making any big decisions."

#chicago med #Chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine #chicago med imagines #connor rhodes #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes imagines #connor rhodes x reader

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strniohoeee · 7 months

Text

Confidential

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N travels to the US for the triplets tour, and what happens when Matt takes a little extra liking to her, and invites her beyond backstage.This is for a request I got asking for an international reader having some fun backstage with Matt😏

Warnings⚠️: This is SMUT. I mean I think there’s smacking like one time. Other than that it’s POUNDTOWNNNNNN

Song for the imagine: Backstage Passes- EST Gee, Jack Harlow

Read part 2 here🫶🏽

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

These girls will do anything for some backstage passes

Yeah lights, camera, action

I had flown into the US for the triplets tour because I loved them so much, and simply couldn’t pass on this offer. I was so sad they weren’t touring international, but I was so fortunate to be able to go to the US for them.

I had arrived to the states, and had two days to kill before the tour. This was easy I went shopping, out to eat and just chilled in my hotel room.

The day of the tour I was up and out early, so I could get a good spot on the line. I had seen that many people were waiting hours to get in, and I didn’t want to be that person.

I had pre show small talk meet and greet, pre show photo op, and I had backstage passes. I mean I loved these guys so fucking much I had to interact with them at any cost

I waited a good two hours before we got in for the small talk, and when it was my turn I was so nervous and excited!!

I first met Nick. I ran over to him, and gave him a hug

“Hii, how are you?” He asked giving me a hug

“I’m good! How are you?” I asked him

“I’m good thank you” he said

We took pictures together and chatted before I moved onto Chris, and it was the same with him picture videos and chatting.

It was now my turn to say hi to Matt, and this is who I was the most nervous for because I was team Matt, and he looked so fucking good today

“Hi! So nice to see you” he said giving me a hug

“Hii! It’s so good to see you! How are you?” I asked him

“I’m good! How are you?” He asked me

“I’m good! I’m rooting for team blue” I told him flaunting off my blue outfit

“I see that! We’re gonna win tonight baby” he said, but my head lingered on him saying baby….

“I have backstage passes, so I’ll be there to congratulate you when you win” I said to him

“Oh yeah?” He responded giving me a smirk, am I going crazy, or is Matt being flirty with me????

“You already know!” I told him

That interaction ended, and then we did the photo op, and we waited for the show to start which took a few hours of waiting, so I snacked and drank some water

After the show was over, and Chris had won I was devastated. Matt had this in the bag, but he fumbled horribly. Tril came out to perform, and then by 9:30 they were calling everyone for backstage to get on line. I waited on this line while they did the after show photo op.

I was the third and final group. I was so nervous and excited, and I just couldn’t wait to see Matt again so we can talk about him losing

I had met Chris and then Nick. We chatted and took pictures together, and even filmed a few tik toks. Finally I was the last person to talk to Matt

“So good to see you again” he said before giving me a hug

“So great to see you. You had that in the bag I thought you would’ve won” I said to him as he signed my stuff

“Man, I know! I was so so close” he said shaking his head

“Maybe next time? I could be your partner next time, and we’ll win” I told him

“Oh with you on my team. Id be winning in every aspect” HES FUCKING FLIRTING HE IS

“Is that so?” I asked with a flirty ring to my tone

“Very much so. You in another body con dress…on my side. Yeah I’d be winning” he said winking

The wink? The fucking wink?? I know I’m not going crazy.

At this point the security was telling everyone that there was two more minutes before it was over.

Matt went over to speak to the security guards, and they nodded while looking at me.

“Hey so stay at the back of the line, I want to chat with you a little longer” Matt told me

“Oh okay sure!” I said super excited. Its not everyday that a fan gets to stay extra long backstage with their celebrity crush

Everyone had left, and they shut the door before I walked out.

“Hey follow me” Matt said as he started to walk to another door that led to another long corridor

I followed him till we got to an extra room. I assume it was for any of their guests that came to this venue

Matt had locked the door. Something I took note of

“Take a seat” he said gesturing to the couch in the corner

I sat down, and he sat next to me. Not too far, but not too close either

“So…” I said trying to break the silence

“What would you do for backstage passes” he suddenly blurted out

“Ummm pay for them?” I said laughing

“No. I mean like if you couldn’t buy them, and all you could do was bribe your way in…what would you do” he asked me now completely turned towards me

“I’d do just about anything” I told him

“Would you suck a dick” he said

“Matt….where’s this going?” I asked getting a little uncomfortable

“Would you suck a dick for backstage passes” he asked again

“I mean it depends” I told him

“Depends on?” He said prying

“Depends on who they are, and if I find them hot” I told him

“So would you suck my dick, would you fuck me for more backstage passes?” He asked licking his lips

“Matt that’s….I don’t know” I told him looking down

“Well look at me. I’m powerful, I’m hot it’s not everyday I’m asking a girl this question” he said standing up

“I…” I simply could not form an answer

“What if I said you had to suck my dick.” He responded now standing in front of me

“Why would I have to suck your dick?” I asked looking up at him

“Because I’m in charge, and I said so” he told me

“And if I Don't want to” I said back

“Then there’s the door” he said moving and waiting for me to get up, but my feet weren’t moving

“Exactly my point. You want to” he said now standing in front of me again

“I never said that” I told him back

“So then leave” he said pointing to the door

“No” I told him, honestly my mouth was moving fast than brain

“So then stop talking, and use that mouth of yours to suck my cock” he said. My mouth dropped. I was genuinely shocked by his vulgarness. This was not Matt

Within a few seconds my hands were on his waistband and I was tugging his pants down allowing his dick to spring upwards

Am I really about to suck thee Matt Sturniolos dick?? God what has my life come to, and I never want this to end

“You in that tight dress hugging your every curve has made me so fucking horny” he said petting my face

“Now suck” he said lightly smacking my face

My mouth opened and immediately I took his dick into my mouth. Allowing him to slide all the way to the back of my throat before I gagged

“Fuck” he said inhaling sharply

I pulled back, licking the tip and sucking harshly before going back down. Jerking whatever wasn’t in my mouth with my right hand

I had to take a second to get my breathing back, so I slowly started to stroke his dick.

“You look so hot with your mascara running down your face, and your lips all swollen” he said looking down at me

“You look so hot like that with your dick in my hand” I said looking up at him through my lashes

“Do you wanna fuck?” He asked

“Yes” I said looking up at him and licking my lips

“Good cause so do I” he said lifting me up and placing me on the table that was in the room

He started kissing my neck and down to my collar bone

“I don’t kiss, I hope you understand” he said looking at me

“Tuh. But you fuck and get your dick sucked?” I asked rolling my eyes

“Yeah cause I’m in charge. I say what goes” he said looking at me sternly

“Yeah whatever you say” I said back to him smugly

He slid my dress up and moved my underwear to the side

“So fucking wet” he said slowly rubbing my clit

“Fuck Matt” I said sighing and throwing my head back a little bit

He started to jerk his own dick before slowly inserting himself into me.

“Fuckkkk” I said now completely throwing my head back

“Ready?” He asked me grabbing onto my hips

“Yes please” I said propping myself on my elbows

Without a second thought he immediately started to point into me ruthlessly. Hitting my g spot in all the right ways

“Fuck you take me so well, doll” he moaned out

“Fuck matt keep going….HARDER” I yelled out to him

Matt gripped my hips harder and started to slam into me at an ungodly pace. Anybody walking by would hear skin and moans, and this table creaking under us

“Fuck just like that” I said with my brows furrowed

Matt was relentlessly thrusting into me. Moaning and groaning every single second

“Oh goddddd” I moaned out letting my jaw fall slack

“Fuck keep clenching on me, and I’m going to cum” he said pounding into me which caused me to clench down on him again

Matt picked up his shirt and put into his mouth biting on it before grabbing my thighs and pushing them back a little bit, so he could screw me at a new deeper angle

This caused me to fall back and grip the edge of the table for support

“Fuck fuck fuck oh my goddddd” I moaned out completely loosing my mind

He let one leg fall down and used that hand to start rubbing at my clit

“Shitttttt” I said picking my head up to look at him

“I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum” I said clenching down on him. This made him rub my clit harder and faster

“FUCKKKKKK” I screamed out before I came all over his cock. Shaking and trembling and speaking gibberish. This was the best orgasm I’ve ever had

He let me calm down before pulling out and jerking himself off. It took about thirty seconds before his mount went slack, allowing the shirt to fall from between his teeth

“Fuckkkk” he said as he came on my lower abdomen. Shaking and convulsing

Once we both came down from our high he picked his pants back up, and walked over to grab some napkins before wiping me clean

“How sweet…cleaning me up” I said to him as he finished wiping me off

“I usually try to keep my cum sluts nice and pampered” he said before walking to the trash to throw out the napkin

“God you have a way with words” I said hopping off the table and sliding my dress down again

“What can I say?” He said smugly

He helped me gather my things before deciding which one of us would leave the room first.

I decided to leave first.

“Bye Matt. I guess I’ll see you at the next tour” I told him giving him a kiss on the cheek

“Yeah. I hope to see you on the next tour. So we can do this again and again” he said kissing me on the cheek

“Still no kiss?” I said half joking

“I told you I don’t kiss, but maybe next time” he said giving me a flirty smile

“See you then!” I said and turned to the door. He smacked my ass before opening the door for me

“I’ll see you around” he said nodding his head

The End

Hiiiiii I hope you guys enjoyed this one💋. For the person that requested this I pray to the lord above I didn’t disappoint ❤️❤️ I got so many more stories coming for yall 😁😁

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #smut #Spotify

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oohtobeagooner · 7 months

Text

Nonsense

Alessia Russo x Female Reader

This is my first ever fic… go easy on me 😅

Fluff, mention of alcohol.

——————————————————————————

Alessia’s busy thinking about tonight’s team outing. It’s her first one as a gunner and she is incredibly nervous. She’s snapped out of her thoughts as a thick Irish accent fills the locker room ‘’Less, you coming?’’ she smirks ‘’Race you out there’’ and she leaves Katie stunned chasing after her until she spots Alessia on the floor in a slightly compromising position with Y/N L/N – Arsenal’s new CB and Alessia’s crush. ‘’You two get a room’’ Katie says and smirks at Alessia. Her cheeks are red and she offers Y/N her hand to help her up. ‘’Sorry er- I was running away from erm Katie and I didn’t see you there’’ she fumbles over her words. Y/N smirks and takes Alessia’s hand pulling herself up. ‘’Less I know you’re clumsy but maybe next time don’t take me with you?’’ you laugh and leave her walking with Katie as you runs off to the pitches. Katie laughs as soon as Y/N runs away ‘’You’ve got it bad girl… tell her!’’ Alessia sighs ‘’I can’t McCabe she doesn’t like me like that’’. Katie pats her on the back and smiles.

Jonas splits the group into 4 teams for the last bit of training for matches. Y/N realises that she is marking Alessia and her nerves settle in. She’s fancied her since her first England senior appearance but Alessia signing for Arsenal has only made you catch more and more feelings. Y/N had recently signed from Brighton after an stand out season. Jonas had been delighted with the signing after losing Rafa Souza early in the window.

Y/N’s on Leah’s team. You’re winning 2-1 when Jonas calls for the last 30 seconds. Little picks up the ball and passes to Pelova who goes past Leah and puts Alessia through 2 v 1. Katie shouts at Y/N to foul her but Y/N knows that she can make the tackle. What she did not expect though was to end up on top of Alessia in the same compromising position as this morning with the ball running out of play. Jonas blows the whistle and Y/N get up holding out her hand to help the Italian up ‘’Better luck next time Less’’. Katie jumps on Alessia’s back ‘’Cat got your tongue Less?’’ she smirks and walks away.

Entering the changing rooms Leah has ‘Freed from Desire’ playing as if they had just won the world cup. Alessia shakes her head as the winning side celebrate their victory. ‘’Save it for tonight Williamson’’ Lotte laughs. Y/N looks over at Alessia who is putting her boots away and smiles to herself but not without Leah noticing ‘’See something you like Y/N/N’’ she whispers in your ear you look like a deer caught in headlights.. ‘’erm.. I was.. yeah..’’ Leah laughs and announces that she will see you all tonight at 7. You grab your kit bag and follow behind her.

Leah mocks you the entire car ride. She knows you have feelings for Alessia and has been encouraging you to come clean to her. ‘’What if she doesn’t feel the same Le? I potentially make it so awkward for all of us as a team!’’ Le smiles at you, pulling up to your flat ‘’Y/N that girl is a blushing mess every time you are in her presence. For some reason I doubt that will happen but a little risk won’t harm you’’. You smile as she opens the door to your shared flat.

Your head hurts from what Le had just told you. Could Less like you back? You try not to overthink it as you make a smoothie and head in the shower. ‘’LEAH!!!’’ you shout hoping your flat mate heard you. Almost instantly Le runs in ‘’What’s wrong?!!!’‘ ‘’Can you help me pick something hot to wear tonight please?’’ ‘’Seriously? I thought you were hurt’’ She scoffs at you but helps you anyway.

Alessia arrives at the venue 15 minutes before she is supposed to, she’s nervous. Lotte arrives shortly after and orders Lessi a drink to calm her nerves. ‘’It’ll be a great night Less don’t worry!’’ the blonde smiles ‘’I’m sure Y/N will love it too’’ she smirks at Alessia ‘’what? How do you know?’’ ‘’Less I’ve known you for long enough now, I’ve seen the way you look at her. Plus Katie isn’t very subtle… speaking of…’’ In walks Katie, someone Alessia has grown to love very much since arriving at Arsenal. One by one the Arsenal girls arrive but it gets to 7:15 and no sign of Leah and Y/N.

‘’Shall I call them Less?’’ she looks stressed and thanks Lia seconda later in walks Leah and Y/N arguing about always being late because of a certain England Captain.

Y/N walks up to Less clearly seeing her stressed and offers her apologies and hugs the tall blonde. Their hug lingers a bit and Leah coughs to break them apart. They both blush. ‘’Let’s get this party started’’ Leah shouts. It’s comical really, none of the girls could sing particularly well… somehow a girl band formed of Leah, Lia, Kim, Beth and Viv and you can’t help but laugh as they sing ‘Wannabe’ at the top of their lungs. Shot after shot the songs became funnier and every seemed to be having a great time.

Alessia relaxes. She smiles whilst sat on the sofa sipping her cocktail. ‘’Not singing tonight Russo?’’ she locks eyes with the brunette. ‘’Maybe I’m waiting for you to show me the ropes’ Y/N’’ she is taken aback by her boldness but rolls with it ‘’See I’ve been trying to save your eardrums but you asked for this…’’ and up Y/N gets, determination mixed with liquid courage coursing through her veins.

Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter begins playing. Her eyes fixated on Alessia as she sings ‘’Looking at you got me thinking nonsense, cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in’’, fumbling words but making her point nether the less. The rest of your team are vibing with you whilst Leah and Katie smirk at each other knowingly.

Alessia feels a lot of things in this moment as Y/N approaches her on the sofa. ‘’Hope you enjoyed the show Russo?’’ smirk plastered on her lips. Alessia pulls Y/N outside ‘’Are you trying to play with my feelings here Y/L/N?’’. You grab Alessia’s hand as she tries to walk away and smile, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and tilt her chin up to your face. ‘’Alessia Russo… you are beautiful’’ she looks at you confused but holds your gaze. She leans up and connects your lips in a gentle kiss as you both smile into it. As you pull away, Less pulls you into a hug ‘’I take it you have feelings too?’’ you smirk into the hug. Alessia pulls back from the hug and smacks your shoulder lightly ‘’Shut up, I thought it was so obvious!’’ you smile. ‘’To be honest I did not realise until Leah had me thinking earlier’’. Less pulls you into her side and kisses your head, ‘’Would you like to go on a date tomorrow?’’ you smile up at her ‘’I’d love nothing more, let’s just hope you remember this tomorrow!’’ Alessia smiles but knows she has waited for this moment for a while… there was no way she was forgetting.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader

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howlingday · 2 months

Note

Ask

Everyone goes back to beacon during the reunion. Jaune was voted most likely Die in his class.

Q to everyone in the reunion. Watching the news as jaune the rusted knight. Medal gear rising rules of Of nature a gigantic grimm.

"Wait, wait, so you were The Rusted Knight the entire time?"

"Pretty much." Jaune shrugged, taking a sip of his fruity beverage. Shade Academy, despite the rumors and tales told from his close friends, was still an academy for students and just as strict for being so. Not that he was complaining, since he never really got into the harder drinks, partially because of Ruby's uncle. "That's not even the craziest thing to happen." Everyone gave him a weird look. He scratched his cheek. "Okay, it was, but it's not the last weird thing to happen to me."

"What was it?" Velvet asked.

"While we were making our way to Shade, we ran into some Grimm, these huge worms with big ol' red eyes-"

"Blind Worms." Everyone said in unison.

"Oh, uh, you guys know about them, too?"

"We've been in Shade for a while now, dude." Neptune answered.

"Some of us longer than others." Sun added.

"I was actually eaten by one." Coco said, drinking from her canteen. It could have been coffee, or it could have been soda. Jaune wasn't sure what Coco's tastes were. "Pretty dark in there."

"Tell me about it." Jaune said with a sigh. "Thought I was going to die for a minute, which would have sucked since I just came out of the Ever After."

"How did you get out?" Cardin asked with a quirked brow.

"Did the Vomit Boy induce vomiting?" Russel sniggered before being elbowed by his leader.

"No, I just kinda... cut myself out." At this, everyone glanced at one another before passing a judging gaze at him. Sure, Jaune had grown since his departure from Beacon. Everyone saw the message Ruby sent out AND the video beforehand of Jaune fumbling with the camera controls, but they paid less attention to how much he'd physically changed and saw that he was still the lovably dense goofball that was Jaune Arc. He might have changed, but, at his core, he stayed the same. "What are you guys looking at me for?"

"If you were small enough to be eaten by a Blind Worm, then there's no way you could have just "cut your way out." No offense, of course." Neptune said.

"It's true, though!"

"Yuh-huh! I even have the video!" Everyone turned to see Jaune's team, Nora and Ren, standing by, with the former holding a scroll out. "Ren and I got the whole thing on our scroll!"

"I got it on my scroll." Ren clarified, tapping the screen to unlock it and prove that it was indeed his scroll in his girlfriend's hands. "Nora provided commentary while she fired mortar shots at the Grimm around them."

"Enough yapping!" Nora shouted, tapping the now unlocked scroll. "Check out my sick as hell fearless leader!"

The video played and, just as Ren had said, Nora was shouting profanities and making... disturbingly cheery remarks as the Grimm had been blown to pieces. In the distance, Team RWBY and Jaune were being surrounded by the Blind Worms while a huntsman team was dispatched to assist after almost an hour of fighting. The smaller ones were easy to dispatch, but a much larger one was taking potshots with its acidic spit from a distance. Jaune then broke from the group to engage the larger one alone, but soon realized none of the smaller Grimm were following him.

The sand beneath Jaune began to shift until he was then swallowed whole by the larger Blind Worm. The massive Grimm then dove back down, taking Jaune with him. The camera began to shake as you could hear Ren grinding his teeth at the sight. Faint whispers of, "Come on, Jaune" were uttered for everyone to hear. By the third iteration of the chant, the worm emerged once more, letting out a howling scream as it was sliced in half. Unlike the other instances when this happens, in which the Blind Worm would retreat to grow into two more Blind Worms, the titanic creature began to fade away into dust and ash from being sliced in half longways across its entire body.

It was at this point that the backup huntsmen arrived and Ren screamed "HOLY SHIT!" for everyone to hear. Cardin and Russel mocked the exclamation for a bit, but this didn't detract from everyone sharing the same reaction as they all looked at Jaune.

"Did we miss the video?" Ruby asked, running up to the group.

"You've already seen it a thousand times." Weiss groused as she followed behind. "How many more times do you need to see the same thing?"

"At least a thousand and one." Ruby replied, after thinking about it for a few moments, earning a groan from her partner.

"It's really not that impressive, Ruby." Jaune shrugged. "Pretty sure you could pull that off ten times over." At this, the group erupted into a mixture of emotions, ranging from guffaws of disbelief to outcries of disparages to uproarious laughter at the strangely humble and awkward Jaune Arc.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #lie ren #cardin winchester #coco adel #velvet Scarlatina #russel thrush #sun wukong #neptune vasilias

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luvring · 8 months

Text

UNIVERSITY WITH BOKUTO

gn!reader | late bokuto birthday post. kyaaa.. sorry for using sociology btw. i’m coping

university student!bokuto who you meet the first day of classes. it was hard not to notice him on the train, nor how you seemed to be taking the same path. you’re speed-walking down a pedway—just a few minutes from being late—when his eyes flicker over to you. “we were on the train together, right? i thought it was funny we started walking the same way. what class are you going to?” he asks with a smile.

and it’s a cute smile, but you wish it wasn’t because you’re starting to run out of breath and you don’t think the one you flash back is anywhere near as easy. “sociology with, uh, philip.”

your new-found acquaintance lights up. “really? me too!”

“yeah, i had him last year and he was really good,” you reply. and maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the way he seems so friendly despite how little you’ve spoken, but you decide to introduce yourself first.

the stranger grins again. “it’s nice to meet you,” he says your name hesitantly, as if testing it out for the first time. “i’m kotaro!”

university student!bokuto who has an impressive skill for keeping small talk going in a way that isn’t awkward or miserable. he sits across from you on the train every morning you have class—taking the side that keeps you from squinting at the sun, which, of course, garners a thank you—and talks about anything and everything. he tells you about his other courses, asks for yours, what you had for breakfast, whether you prefer pancakes or waffles, and even describes how he likes to drizzle on designs with his syrup. (one of his favourites was a wonky little owl, and kotaro swears he managed to draw mario once—or at least his long-lost twin.)

it’s easy talking with him, and even when you want to skip and sleep in, you find yourself getting ready, just in hopes of seeing him again.

university student!bokuto who has a pad of sticky notes in his backpack, filled with reminders and drawings and scribbles from testing if a pen has ink left. the professor is going over the syllabus when you turn to see his brows furrowed, pen doing something on the paper. you have to stop yourself from smiling too big when kotaro passes you a note—a little doodle of the you holding hands and cheering, “SOCIOLOGISTS! >:)” written in block letters above. you have a collection growing by the end of the first two weeks.

bokuto who offers to hang out with you while you wait for your next class, and even walks you there when you’re ready. forty minutes—it’s an awkward amount of time where you can’t really do anything, or sit outside the room to wait, so having someone with you is always nice. you’ve just sat down when you remind him again, “you could just go home, kotaro. you don’t have to wait for me.” and kotaro shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink before replying. “you can’t get rid of me that easy. i like spending time with you, anyway, so don’t worry about me.”

bokuto who stops mid-bite of his lunch when you use his nickname for the first time. “kou, did you get napkins?” you try to ask casually, ignoring how foreign the name feels on your tongue. kotaro stares, cheeks filled on one side with rice. “…kou?” “huh? oh, yeah! uhm.” he fumbles, but manages to hand them over. you thank him quietly and he smiles. he considers himself lucky that you’re looking down at your food, and can’t see how he’s holding back what could possibly be the biggest grin of his life.

bokuto who casually mentions his birthday is coming up, much sooner than you’d expect, and much sooner than you’d hope considering you wanted to get a gift. you lightly hit him on the shoulder. “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“aw, you don’t need to get me a gift. but if you’re free, i was gonna have dinner with some friends,” he offers. “which probably sounds awkward because you don’t really know them, but i told them about you and they’re really nice, and i’d be there so i don’t think it’d be too bad? and it’s after your assignment is due for your other class, i think. or we could do something another day? if you wanted to.”

your ears heat up when he says he’s talked about you, the rest of your face following suit when you realize he's been paying attention to your schedule, but you bite the inside of your cheek and say nothing. “no, it’s okay, i’ll come to dinner, if that’d be okay with them.”

any nervousness that was building inside him evaporates, and kotaro is suddenly back to his usual grinning self. “awesome! it’s my birthday so they’ll be fine, promise!”

bokuto who, himself, is not fine when the day comes—who starts shaking akaashi’s shoulder when you text to say you’ll be there soon. he’s barely paying attention to how his other friends are snickering, or even to akaashi’s reassurance that yes, bokuto, your outfit looks nice, and yes, he’s sure you’d have mentioned any allergies to his cake and no, he doesn’t think he’ll need an epipen by the end of the night.

bokuto who had no idea you managed to text akaashi and the others privately to figure out what the best short-notice gift would be. they told you that kotaro would appreciate anything you bought or made, even if it was just a simple card. they’re all a little surprised when you show up with not just a card, but also a sweater, owl plushie, and collection of sticky notes.

“i mean, i just thought the sweater was pretty soft and the owl was cute. but the sticky notes are ‘cause you always draw on them during class. so i sort of…made you little drawings? of you, stuff you like…they aren’t the best since i had to make them fast, but...” you trail off as he flips through each one.

one of his friends—kuroo, you think—looks over kotaro’s shoulder and snickers. “huh? i don’t know what you’re talking about, i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him make that exact face before. are you considering going into the art industry?”

you smile as everyone else looks over your gift, but your eyes are fixed on the birthday boy himself. he’s smiling widely as he takes in each sticky note, making comments and laughing when he reads an inside joke you have from class.

bokuto who takes you to the side while everyone else is talking amongst themselves, surprising you with a hug. “oh!” you take a second to process the fact that there’s arms wrapped around you, but eventually wrap yourself around him in return.

he says your name, dragging out the last syllable as he squeezes you tighter, moving you side to side. “thank you for the present!”

you snort and pat his back. “i’m glad you liked it, some of those sticky notes took a few tries to not look like shit.” you joke.

when he finally lets go, kotaro has a look of determination on his face. “i’ll be sure to make a birthday present just as good as yours, or even better! i didn’t miss it, did i? is it close? i should have asked earlier,” he panics. “well, even if it’s tomorrow, i’ll make sure it’s super good. it isn’t tomorrow, is it? or are new year’s presents a thing?”

bokuto who’s already planning what to do for a gift after you’ve all left, wearing the sweater and holding the plush, with the drawings on his desk, waiting to be put up in the morning.

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #happy belated birthday...#sorry taglist friends . i do not have the energy right neow

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illneverrecover · 2 months

Text

god dammit i like it (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: card shark/gambling Changkyun, cocktail server reader, poker!AU, hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff (in that order). ➛word count: 9005 (oof) ➛rating: M ➛warnings: excessive alcohol use, cursing, dirty talk, very very soft femdomme energy, oral sex (female and male receiving), changkyun begging, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, very brief mentions of blood, more soft clown changkyun. ➛summary: One last game, he tells himself. Just one last game, and he'll have enough money to take care of you the way you deserve, to show you how much you mean to him, to give you the life that you want... as long as he doesn't get caught. ➛notes: My second time writing Changkyun and as always, it's for the one and only @taetaesbaebaepsae. She had commissioned me (back when I still did those) to write something based on the God Damn MV, and then patiently waited for me to get my life together. I thoroughly enjoy creating new ways to hurt you with your ult bias, so I hope you enjoy this one! I did edit this one, but just barely, so please be gentle with me. Let me know what you think! ➛song: God Damn - I.M | Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo (Hippie Sabotage Remix) ➛tagging: @taetaesbaebaepsae @lvupmushroom @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife - thank you for letting me use your likeness for this, and for looking it over to make sure it would truly hurt Kristy's feelings. Teamwork makes the dreamwork, bbs.

He’s an idiot, but you already knew that.

The alcohol in his gut sloshes as he moves to stand, his glass painfully empty. Changkyun stumbles towards the bar, the thrumming in his head keeping pace with the bass thumping through the speakers of the club.

His eyes are glassy, faraway when he reaches his destination, the cup fumbling out of his grasp as he indicates to the bartender he wants another. The bartender looks him over, seemingly debating on following through with the request, but he turns to grab the bottle of whisky regardless.

Changkyun hates it. Hates that he’s so drunk, that you’re not here, that the guy serving him thinks he’s a mess. He knows he’s an idiot, that he should stop. Put down the glass and pick up his phone. That he should just call you and tell you he’s sorry for being such a moron all the time, and that he’ll listen to you from now on. That he does love you, and wants to take care of you, and he can fucking prove it, if you’ll let him.

But then he recalls the look in your eyes when you caught him – the disappointment, the pain – and he reaches for his now refilled glass, taking a swig before facing back towards the club.

He doesn’t deserve it – doesn’t deserve you, to provide for you, to do any of it. Not when he’s such a jealous asshole, not when he’s such a fuck up. You deserve the world. Someone who can really give you what you need.

Fuck, he wants to be that. There’s some moments when things are good, when you’re tucked into his arms in bed, sleeping softly beside him that he thinks he might be that – someone who can provide, be reliable, strong. But then he remembers your fights; his words of jealousy and anger, his avoidant nonchalant fake ass attitude, his fragile little ego shattering with a flick of your eyebrow and a sharp word.

So he leaves his phone in his pocket, instead slinking back towards his booth before dropping into it. It was easy to ignore his friends’ questions, to insist that he was fine, to pretend to be more interested in the tray of shots being dropped off at the table. He accepted the small glass, slamming it down before he could think about the burn, about the empty churning in his stomach.

It was easy to ignore his friends, but damn, Changkyun was tired of pretending he wasn’t fucking exhausted of trying to be okay without you.

It had always been push and pull with him.

From the minute Changkyun had walked into Yvonne’s, the lounge where you worked, you could feel the snap of electricity, the buzz of magnetism that pulled you to him. He would’ve stood out from his clothing alone; his lithe form draped in a bright red perfectly cut suit, shirtless under the vest to show off his tanned, broad chest. The combination of cut and color was lethal on him and he knew it, his dark hair swept back to allow the full potency of his sharp gaze. The group of men he was with were also impeccably dressed and attractive, but there was something about him that had your eyes following him, unable to look away.

Luckily for you, he had seemed to feel the same way.

His friends had gone to sit at the Baccarat table in Kat’s section, but he had stayed behind, noting which tables your body was sliding between as you delivered drinks before he made his selection at the blackjack table at the end of your section.

He couldn’t keep his gaze off of you, ordering more drinks than he was actually playing cards you were certain, but you weren’t going to stop a paying customer. The table he was at was pretty low stakes overall; the crowd was a bunch of casual players, but he had enough money to keep up with the table, so they were willing to ignore his flirting.

You were also trying to ignore it, playing into him enough to ensure your tip would be secure, but also knowing that this was likely all just fun for the rudely handsome stranger. And if there is one thing you enjoy doing, it’s having a little fun – especially while at work.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, the way that he spoke to you, that had you hanging on a bit more than you’d care to admit. You wanted to tell yourself it was just the fact that he looked like that in that suit – that his tattoos and cocky smirk on top of it all was just too much for you – but you knew it was more than that.

It was when you were dropping off his umpteenth cocktail that he finally made a move, his tattooed hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you and slide a piece of paper into your palm.

“When do you get off?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood in your veins at his skin touching yours. “Why? Who wants to know?”

His face deadpanned, his mouth dropping to a pout, and the juxtaposition of such a cute expression on such a lethal man made you laugh.

“I don’t even know your name,” you clarified, pulling away from his grip and tucking the paper into your apron.

“You could call me whatever you wanted,” he replies, voice low, glare fixed on you, “but others call me Changkyun.”

The same things that had drawn you to him also made you roll your eyes, his cockiness frustrating just as much as it was attractive. He insisted on waiting until you had finished your shift, ensuring that you made it safely to your car before reminding you about the paper tucked into your apron pocket.

“It has my phone number on it so you can text me and let me know what time you want me to pick you up tomorrow.” He had murmured, his face so close to yours that you had forgotten to breathe.

“Pick me up, hmm? Well aren’t we feeling awfully sure of ourselves,” you replied in a shaky breath, hating how much he was affecting you. “What are you picking me up for?”

“I was hoping to take you on a date, but if you have things you need to do - errands, work - that’s fine with me too. Just let me take care of you.”

It was as easy as that, the way he slid into your life. You hadn’t believed the offer, not really, but decided to text him anyway. You had some things to do before your shift, why use your gas when you could waste his?

But Changkyun was effortless, showing up in gray sweats and a black t shirt promptly at the time you requested, ready to chauffeur you all over town. He kept up with your teasing about his sad fuckboy music he was listening to, and let you mess around with his AC without complaint, like he had been doing it for a hundred years.

Maybe that’s how he broke your walls down – acting so nonchalant, while also being dependable, always showing up when and how he said he would, always ready with an easy smile and a light joke.

It could have been days, maybe weeks, but it didn’t take long for you to realize you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. That you didn’t think you wanted to.

Which was a complete contradiction to what you had told him – that you weren’t interested in anything serious, but if he played his cards right, you could be convinced for an evening of fun. An offer he had declined, telling you that he would wait until you changed your mind and wanted him fully. An answer that had infuriated you to no end, but one that felt inevitable.

It was the 14th or 15th day of hanging out that he finally said the words, putting the feelings out into the space between you. His “I love you” came out rushed, as if the words had pained him, but the flush of his cheeks and shimmering soft eyes had you cracking, reaching for him to smash your mouth into his own.

The kiss was unlike anything you had ever felt; the intense rush of heat nearly choking you when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. He groaned when you had opened, the feeling of his tongue on yours sending the kiss deeper, starved for each other. He tasted like whisky mixed with the faint hint of gummy bears he was always snacking on, and you were drunk on his mouth, drunk on him. You don’t even remember if you had said the words back, the volatile energy between you now snapped and now your full focus until it was fully satiated.

Changkyun slotted into your life like he had always been there. The familiarity of it soothed you, brought you a deep peace that you didn’t know you needed – but there was the other side of you, the one that had never allowed anyone to get this close, that was terrified of what this would mean. That knew letting someone in also gave them the power to break you.

It was always a push and a pull with him, an intoxicating desire to give in, to let your heart find a home with him – mixed with the fear that eventually, that home would be ripped away.

“Fuck,” Changkyun cursed, and your fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, tugging.

“No marks,” you reminded him, though you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his mouth at your throat. His tongue was laving at the junction of your skin between neck and collar bone, suckling it between his teeth before soothing it with sloppy kisses.

You had been pressed against the wall of your apartment, him latched to you like a man starving until you had coaxed him down the hall towards your bedroom, letting him push you down onto the bed before resuming his work on your neck.

“Mmm,” he acknowledged, though he didn't stop his ministrations. “I wish I could mark you up, make sure everyone at Yvonne’s knows who you come home to.”

You had let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling though he couldn’t see it. His silly jealousy over the stares you got while working at the lounge was just that - silly, nothing of merit - and yet, you couldn’t help but play into it just a little bit.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” you whispered, using your hand in his hair to guide him to your mouth, only stopping his descent when he was a breath away.

“Don’t play games, sweetheart,” Changkyun leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip, and your grip deepened. “We both know I’m the only one you’d let stick around this long.”

He was right about that.

Closing the distance, you melted your mouth into his, letting him take control of the kiss for just a moment before you tug at his head once more, dragging him down your body. He complied quickly, pressing small kisses into your flesh as you guided him lower.

“I don’t know,” you breathed, eyes hazy as Changkyun settled between your thighs, a groan leaving his throat when he saw you had forgone any kind of underwear beneath your skirt. “That one guy at table 7 was tipping really well, I bet I could-”

Your words were choked off with a moan as Changkyun dragged his tongue from the bottom of your cunt to your aching clit, giving it a singular swirl with the offending muscle before pulling back.

“What was that?” he asked, but he didn't wait for a reply, not before delving back between your legs. He lapped at your center, taking his time tasting you before he settled up near your clit, sucking it between his lips.

Any retort you had been working on died as he made quick work of you, sucking and licking until you were bucking up into his face, both hands tugging at his hair to hold him in place. He had become pliant beneath you, molding himself just where you needed in order to push you over the edge. Just when you felt like you couldn’t take any more, that you were going to snap, Changkyun slid two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards.

“Please, come for me, sweetheart,” he begged, murmuring against the heat of your flesh. “I want it so bad.”

His words were your undoing, and you find yourself doing exactly as he asked, moaning out his name as he takes you over the edge, his mouth and fingers working you through it in tandem.

You exploded, white bursting behind your eyelids until you were boneless, unable to do anything but ride out your orgasm at the will of the man in front of you. Changkyun made sure to taste every drop of your release, slowly sliding his hand away from you only to quickly replace it with his tongue to lap at you until you were shoving him away.

You wanted to make him feel as good as you did in that moment, wanted to return the favor, so you pushed him off of you and onto his back, switching positions to settle between his legs.

Hands tugging at his boxer briefs, Changkyun complied to your silent request, lifting his hips until you could drag them off. You were quick to palm his erection in your hand and squeeze, relishing in the hiss he rewarded you with, your thighs squeezing together.

“Please,” he groaned, and fuck did he beg so prettily. “I just want to be inside you already, let me be inside you, yeah?”

Teasing the head of his cock with your lips, you hummed, playing as if you were considering his words. The truth was, having a beautiful man like him pleading you for anything was your kryptonite, and you would give him anything he asked for as long as he sounded like that.

Taking a final swipe of your tongue over his sensitive flesh, you gave him a smirk, moving until you straddled him, hovering for just a moment. Grasping his length, you line him up with your dripping cunt, sinking onto him slowly, tortuously.

You may be giving him what he had asked for, but only because you wanted to, because you had deemed it aligned with your desires. Changkyun gave you full control over your pleasure, and you took it greedily.

Once fully seated, you moaned, hips beginning to undulate and swirl against his. Pressing your palms into his chest, you began to work yourself over him, sliding back and forth until you were panting, thighs burning.

His eyes searched yours, waiting for permission before he did anything more than take what you were giving him. “Fuck me, Changkyun,” you gasped, voice teetering into a whine. “Wanna come on your cock.”

Changkyun didn’t need to be told twice, didn’t need any more instruction before he was thrusting up into you, pelvis meeting yours. His hands tugged you down until your chest was flush with his own, his mouth seeking yours and coaxing it into a filthy kiss.

“Fuck, yes, please come on my cock,” he rasped against your lips, his pupils blown as they make contact with yours. His gaze was intense, searing, but you couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. You wanted to be engulfed; consumed by him. “Use me, baby.”

Slamming down onto him, your pace began to turn frantic as he matched you thrust for thrust, each connection against your tender clit sending you further into oblivion.

“You feel so good, Kyun,” you praised him, adjusting until your face was pressed to his neck. “So good for me, so perfect.”

His answering moan reverberated in your chest, his arms tightening around you as his pace turned punishing, and it drove you crazy how something as simple as your words has him frenzied, falling apart beneath you.

Drunk on the power, you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, nails digging into the skin on his back as he relentlessly slammed up into you. “Fuck, yes,” you cried, letting yourself go, giving in until you were over the edge, orgasm overtaking your senses.

It was too much for Changkyun; the way your scent was all around him, intoxicating him, the way you were moaning curses and his name, the way you were clenching so fucking tightly against his cock. Before he could stop himself he was chasing his high right alongside you, shuddering as he pumped his release deep, unable to still his hips even when you were mewling from the sensitivity.

Panting heavily against each other, you had tried to pull away only for Changkyun to roll you beneath him, pinning you under his weight. He was still fully lodged inside you, face nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your still sweaty-from-sex skin.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” you chuffed, making a feeble attempt to lift his weight before letting him resettle against you. It was all for show, the response he expected from you. The truth was you didn’t mind it - the feeling of him still inside you, the familiarity of his lips on your skin, the intimacy of it all - you didn’t mind it if it was with him.

“Just let me hold you like this for a bit, hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, and you hummed your agreement, letting your eyes fall closed. He pressed a few lazy kisses to your throat before his breathing became measured, even, and you decided joining him in slumber wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Promise me,” you murmured, voice thick and lazy. You were still naked and draped across his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart. You had already woken and showered, deciding that clothes weren’t necessary before jumping back into bed together. That was several hours ago now. The smoke coming from his cigarette was curling up towards the ceiling, leaving a dreamy haze in the room.

“I’d promise you anything,” he replied quickly, taking a drag, “but what specifically am I promising you this time, sweetheart?”

“No more going to Kihyun’s high roller floors, Kyun. I know the pots are bigger, but you don’t know those men at those tables - not like I do.” You paused then, taking a shaky inhale.

Being in your line of work, you were no stranger to dangerous men, however you purposefully stayed away from serving on those floors of the lounge for a reason. Those men were the worst of the worst, and even if they weren’t, they rubbed elbows and served those who were. Either way, the money may be sweet, but the risk wasn’t worth it. You made better than you ever had at the lounge with the sections you served, and that was fine with you.

But Changkyun had always wanted more.

Ever since you had told him about your lofty dreams - the ones that you had saved for yourself in the darkest parts of the night, when your mind was racing and you couldn’t sleep - he hadn’t let them go. Truthfully, you always loved the idea of retiring your waitressing shoes and being able to finally write full time, working on the novel you’ve been imagining for years in some quiet home somewhere, tucked away from the world. But it broke you to see Changkyun willing to risk his life to see it come true by hanging around that crowd, placing higher and higher bets at Yvonne’s most hazardous tables.

It was strange for you to accept that he would even want to do this for you, to support you in this way, but he always knew how to soothe those concerns, promising you that he genuinely wanted to care for you before gently ribbing you to stop being so damn stubborn.

However, it was his stubbornness that had been creating a wedge between you.

“They’re bad people, Changkyun. And I don’t mean like - scamming old ladies for their pension money bad, either. I mean like extremely shady dealings with people who are involved with things that would get them sent to prison, bad.”

His free hand fell to your head then, smoothing your hair back as he took another puff of his cigarette.

“I know they are. I’m only just polite enough for the rules of the game, I never engage with them more than that. I’m not there for friends or connections, just the money.” He took a final pull before dropping the spent butt in the ashtray on the bedside table, his other hand moving to rest over the one you had placed on his heart.

“I get that, but it doesn’t take much to get on their bad side. It could be the slightest thing. Sometimes, just winning is all it takes.”

He sighed, but let the silence linger, instead letting himself get lost in stroking your hair softly. You were about to say something again, to make sure he had heard you, when he finally spoke.

“I just want to take care of you, you know?” His voice was low, thick with emotion, though he tried to swallow it back. “Give you what you deserve.”

That pain came back, the one deep in your chest, and you sat up to face him. “I know that. But I already have everything that I need, right here.”

You tap his chest once, twice - his hand still firmly resting on top of your own.

He met your gaze, giving you a small, cocky smirk, as if his eyes weren’t shiny with unshed tears. “What, you mean this hot body?”

You scoffed, eyes rolling. Maybe you should’ve called him out on his side stepping, forcing him to vocalize that look he had been giving you, but instead you fell back into step with your teasing. It was, after all, the familiar dance between you two.

“No, stupid. I meant you - you’re all I need. The rest of this shit is just noise.”

“I bet I can make you make some noise–”

“Changkyun–”

“Okay okay,” he laughed as your soft touch turned into pointed jabs into his chest, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and stop your onslaught. “I hear you, sweetheart. You’re right. I’ll stay away,” he said, pulling you up and back until you’re leaning against his chest, arms still wrapped tight around you.

“Promise me?” This time when you say it, you made sure your eyes were locked on his, made sure the fear you felt was evident behind the words.

“I promise.”

It felt like a sign from the universe. Well, either that, or a promise from the devil.

But sometimes, those can look the same.

The posting for Kihyun’s upcoming game had just gone up, but it was already making the rounds. Games like these were advertised in a certain way - you had to know where to find it in order to play, and the regular gamblers all knew the common message boards to keep an eye on. Changkyun hadn’t been looking for it, wasn’t even checking the forums anymore – but had gotten a text about it from Joohoney, a screenshot of the flyer accompanying his message of “Bro, did you see this shit??”

A high stakes game, in two nights. The winning pot large enough that he would be able to retire you permanently, and he wouldn’t be too far behind you, honestly. You were already off work that night, plans in place for a girls night with Kat and a few of the other servers, so you wouldn’t be at Yvonne’s.

It would just be one last time.

One last game, and with enough luck, he could finally give you the life that you’ve always wanted, provide for you in the way a man should. Sure, you wouldn’t like it – the idea of him going to the tables again – but that was only if you found out, and the chances of that were slim.

He could win the money and set it aside, give himself a week or two of regular games to make it seem a bit more feasible. A few days of being off your feet and back on your laptop would have you forgetting about work anyway, and the top floor of Yvonne’s would fade quickly away from your memory.

It had to be a sign. He could do it, could pull it off, could be the man that you deserve.

His fingers hovered over his phone, the reply ready to be sent to Joohoney. It would be just as easy to delete it, to tell him that he’s done with that shit. To text his best friend back and tell him that he can’t, because he told you he would walk away and stay away from those men. Joohoney might give him some shit, but he would understand, likely wouldn’t push the matter.

But the money…

It didn’t take long for Changkyun to do the math; it would take months at the regular tables to get this kind of money, and that’s only if he kept winning. Which didn’t seem like long in the grand scheme of things, but when he thought of how your eyes lit up at the idea of writing full time, made it seem like it was centuries.

You wouldn’t have to know. It would just be one last time.

He pressed send on the text, foot tapping nervously until he saw the read receipt pop up under his message.

“I’m in - one last game.”

You were mad at him again, but your friends didn’t need to know that.

All they needed to know was that you were in the mood for a girls night out, and if they knew what was good for them, they’d be there in their sluttiest outfit ready to indulge with you.

However, it only took you ordering the second round of shots to have Bri’s questioning stare fixed on your own.

“So, what did he do this time?” she deadpanned, sipping from her straw.

“What? Who? I don’t know what you speak of,” you replied. “I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.”

“Sure, okay,” Kat nodded, giving a convincing performance of someone who actually believed your nonsense. “If he didn’t do anything, then why isn’t he here, buying us all drinks?”

She had you there. Changkyun was always wanting to show up on your nights out – not to crash them, but so that you and your friends could enjoy your time without having to worry about a single thing. He covered the tabs, made sure everyone was having fun, and ensured each person got home safely – all while staying tucked away at a nearby table until you needed him, never putting too much pressure on you.

It had pissed you off the first time he had suggested it, but after he showed you what he meant, showed you how he could be supportive in the shadows while still letting you shine, you had slowly given in. Part of you loved being able to enjoy yourself with your friends while knowing he was always looking out, even if he wasn’t directly visible.

“Maybe he’s busy.”

Twin glares pinned you to your seat, and you allowed several beats of the bass blaring in the speakers to pass before caving.

“Okay, fine, yes. We’re having a slight disagreement,” you conceded with a sniff, “over something that happened at work.”

“Wait a minute - is this about what happened with Vanda?” Kat questioned, mentioning the newest server at the lounge. She had only started a few weeks prior, but had been making a lot of work for you - constantly acting like she knew what she was doing in front of management, only to flounder and follow you and the senior staff around asking a million questions the minute they weren’t on the floor.

It wasn’t her confidence in her lacking serving skills that had bothered you, not really. It was more so how the minute she did get called out on a mistake, she was quick to try to throw you and your friends - the same people who had just been helping her ass - under the bus.

You had told Changkyun about an incident earlier in the week of this exact scenario – she was flirting with another customer instead of checking on the tables in her section, and a patron of hers ended up getting up to go to the bar to order a drink. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal, mistakes happen after all, except she had immediately told the manager on duty that you had promised to cover that table. Which was news to you.

“Are you serious? After all the help you’ve given her?” Changkyun had shook his head, irritation evident in his voice. “Did you tell the manager the truth? Who was on?”

You had smothered a smile at the question, trying and failing to hide how much you loved him wanting to know more about your life.

“It was Amy, and yeah, I told her. She believed me, but still. I don’t get it, I’ve never done anything to that girl.”

“Want me to show up to Yvonne’s and request her section with the guys, give her some shit? You know how annoying I can be when I want to,” he offered, brows raised in a teasing lilt, but you could tell by the line of his mouth that he meant it.

“Yes, I do know how truly annoying you can be. It’s almost like a super power.”

He grinned then, a full one, and you wanted to kiss his stupid mouth.

“But no, it’s fine. I got this. I know how to handle people like this, and having anyone else fight the battle for me will only make her more bold about it.” This wasn’t your first rodeo, after all - you had been serving a long time, and doing luxury serving at Yvonne’s for even longer than Vanda had been out of diapers. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was handle people.

But did Changkyun listen to you?

Well no, of course not.

He did exactly as he had threatened - showed up the following day with his full group of rowdy friends, sitting in her section and dedicated to being the most obnoxious people Vanda dealt with all night. They didn’t do anything harassing or illegal, just toed the line of being pretentious drunk pricks gambling and drinking – sending back drinks for being made incorrectly, asking for complicated cocktails and shots, requesting a rundown of the entire menu before telling her they were no longer hungry.

Kat and Bri had found it hilarious, stating that your boyfriend’s malicious compliance of the rules while still making Vanda run around so much she was pouring sweat was truly an artform. And there was a tiny piece of you, deep in your soul, that was pleased at the lengths he was willing to go for you.

But you were also pissed, because you had been exactly right. It did nothing to stop Vanda from sending bullshit your way; if anything, it had spurred her on, the following shift of yours even more annoying and mind numbing after hours of her questions and subtle sabotage.

“Yes, it’s about what happened with Vanda! I told him to let me handle it, and he didn’t listen. I know he meant well, I get that, but still. He didn’t listen.” You had known his heart was in the right place - you hadn’t questioned that. But it didn’t negate the fact that it made you feel so small when he didn’t listen to your requests.

“I thought that was hilarious,” Bri said, arm reaching out for another shot glass. She had one already prepped in front of her, but preferred taking her shots two at a time. “But I get it. Vanda’s been worse since.”

“I can handle Vanda, I don’t really care about that. But it feels like our fights are usually because he just doesn’t listen to what I’m telling him. It’s like he thinks he knows better than me.”

Deep down, you know he didn’t mean it in this way, but it was like he didn’t trust you - your judgment, your read on the situation, whatever it is – and that hurt, especially when you had worked so hard to open up that piece of yourself to him.

“And I know that I’m not always right, and it’s not like I don’t want to hear his opinions, but I don’t like the choice being taken from me. Or worse, dangled in front of me like he’s going to consider my feelings, only to have him do whatever.”

Downing her two shots in rapid succession, Bri shook her head, reaching for her chaser before speaking. “I think that’s part of the problem, he thinks he is considering your feelings. He thinks he’s standing up for you and fighting for you. He thinks he’s taking some of that burden off your plate.”

“I don’t need, I mean, I don’t-”

“When is the last time you let anyone fight a battle for you?” Kat interrupted, elbows leaning on the table to make direct eye contact with you. “You tell everyone that you got it, that you can handle it. And we’ve seen you do it, so it’s not that we don’t believe you. But sometimes, we want to help you, for no other reason than we love you. And we can.”

The direct read into your defenses had your throat tightening, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to form and ruin your makeup.

“He should listen and take your feelings into consideration, absolutely,” Kat continued, voice gentle, “but also, you should let him support you and help more. I think if you let him be there for you in smaller ways, he wouldn’t feel the need to be the knight in shining armor so much.”

There was a lot of wisdom in your friend's words, and you had taken a moment of silence to chew on it, to let it sink in.

“He really loves you, you know that, right? So stop being a dumb bitch about it,” Bri deadpanned, but her expression was soft, “and let him love you. And you know I say that with affection.”

“I know,” you said, nodding at your friends. As much as it wasn’t easy to admit, they had a point, which also meant that maybe Changkyun did, as well. “Thank you both, seriously.”

It had only taken one text message, a quick “This tab isn’t going to pay itself” with a kissing emoji to have him showing up at the bar, settling into a table a few down from your own with a wink and a sly smirk, where he proceeded to wait out the evening, taking care of you and your friends as always when the time came.

“I’m still annoyed with you,” you had panted against his mouth when you got home, letting him push you up against the wall and cage you in with his arms. He was on you like a starved man, and it had made your buzz intensify, making you drunk on him, his kiss.

“Of course, I understand,” he mumbled, words barely intelligible in the urgency of his lips.

You had to fight to pull away, using one hand on the base of his throat to push him back for a moment to catch your breath.

“But, also, thank you. For what you did with Vanda. And for always wanting to protect me.”

If Changkyun noticed how soft your voice got, he didn’t say anything, instead leaning down to press his forehead against yours. You could tell he was going to say something – probably something devastatingly sweet – and you needed to finish what you were going to say, before the bravery lost you.

“I’m not used to having someone who wants to fight with me, or for me, you know.”

“I know,” he replied in a rush, like he had already known your confession, knew what you were going to say long before the words had formed. “I know, and I also shouldn’t be an ass and push all the time. But I will always protect you, yeah?”

Nodding, you fought back tears for the second time that evening, but this time you didn’t shy away from letting him see the emotion in your face.

“You’re mine, and I will always fight for you, sweetheart.”

This time when he kissed you, it was slow, purposeful, heated. Like he was going to make sure you felt and wanted for nothing other than him, his touch, and that you could allow yourself to fall into him forever and would always have a safe place to land.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, to be vulnerable with someone, to let them in, if you could feel like this.

Or maybe it wasn’t so bad, only because it was Changkyun.

Tonight was the night, and everything was in place.

So why did Changkyun feel a ball of anxiety forming in the base of his gut?

Everything had been going according to the plan so far, not that there was much of a plan for any of this. It mostly relied on you and your friends being away from Yvonne’s for the night, which was easy enough since you were all off on the same evening. A rarity that you all were going to take advantage of, and had planned for movie night with drinks and sushi take out over at Kat’s place, an event that was common enough that Changkyun knew it usually ended in a sleepover.

He had dropped you off an hour prior, kissing you gently and shouting a greeting down the hall to the girls before heading back to the car, ignoring the feeling of guilt roiling in his stomach. He had just kept reminding himself that he was doing this for you, doing this so he could support you and give you the life that you deserved.

It was one last time, one last game.

But that pit didn’t dissipate as the evening went on, not even when he met with Joohoney who had insisted he take a shot when they arrived at Yvonne’s to help with his nerves. It had burned his esophagus, blurring the edges of his tension a bit, enough that he felt confident walking through the lounge next to his friend..

“You good?” Joohoney asked, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

Changkyun nodded. “Yeah, just really wanna win some money, you know?”

Joohoney had given him an understanding grin before guiding him past the tables in the lower section of Yvonne’s towards the stairs leading up to the high roller tables.

“It's our lucky night, Kyun,” Joohoney said, pausing in front of the door leading to where the game was about to begin. Through the heavily frosted glass, Changkyun could see several bodies already seated at the few VIP tables, and he felt his pulse spike. “We’re going to win.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The sleepover at Kat’s had been just the reset you needed.

A night of screaming at the television, drinking cocktails and eating your bodyweight in sushi with your friends was healing in more ways than one, and you had left the next morning feeling lighter and more content than you remembered in a while.

It was surprising to find your apartment dark and quiet when you returned, as you had assumed Changkyun would be there waiting for you, like he always was. You had given him a key long ago, figuring there was no point in pretending like he didn’t spend all of his free time glued to your side, but not fully ready to give up the independence of living alone quite yet.

Sending him a quick text, you let him know that you’re home and about to catch up on sleep before your shift later. He replies quickly that he had fallen asleep at his place after a late night with Joohoney, but that he would be there once you got off work.

Nothing had felt out of the ordinary, and you felt energized enough from your nap to get ready quickly, getting to work much earlier than you normally would for a shift.

You should’ve known something was up the minute you walked into work and saw that Vanda had a shit eating grin on her face.

She kept sneaking side glances, watching you with a scrutiny that made you uneasy. She’s normally more obvious in her attempts to annoy you, and her passive aggressiveness is setting your teeth on edge.

After the third glare and giggle on your way to drop off more drinks, you decide you’re going to confront her and ask her what her deal is, when she beats you to it.

“Did you have fun last night?” Vanda questions, a stupid smirk on her face.

“Why do you care?”

“Seemed like Changkyun did,” she continued, like you hadn’t asked a question. Your stomach dropped.

Raising a brow, you wait for her to go on, not wanting to give her any more satisfaction. She clearly knew something that you didn’t, and she was already well aware of that fact.

“How much did he actually end up winning last night? I mean, him and Joohoney were upstairs until last call, and he seemed pretty happy when he left.”

Instantly, your throat tightens, unease now unfurled into full blown anxiety. He was here last night? If he was here last night, and with Joohoney upstairs, no less…

“I didn’t manage to hear how much he won, just that Changkyun shouldn’t worry, because you would never find out.”

It was enough. You had heard enough.

It was surprising how quickly you switched into autopilot, spinning on your heel and striding out of the room before your throat tightens, before your vision fully blurs. Vanda says something more behind you, a lilt of concern in her voice, but you can’t hear her, not anymore.

Your mind quiets as your body takes control, moving you to find your manager to tell her that you need to leave, before grabbing your purse and coat, and leaving the lounge. Turning towards your apartment, your rage fuels your step, gut churning with the betrayal of knowing the only reason why Changkyun would be upstairs at Yvonne’s last night, why he would be leaving looking so pleased with himself.

The wind bit at your face, chapping your lips, but you didn’t care; needing the night air in your lungs and for the anger to be burned out in your movement before seeing him.

Because once you walked out your anger and faced the betrayal, you would need to deal with the deep seated fear for Changkyun’s safety, and how the hell you would be able to protect him now.

Changkyun wasn’t expecting you so early when you barged into the apartment, and the mix of confusion and excitement quickly bled away once he saw the look on your face.

He strides towards you, grabbing your shoulders, concern knitting his brow. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Blinking, you allow yourself a moment to stare at him, to drink in his full mouth and stupid handsome face, before you swallow around the knot in your throat.

“Tell me it isn’t true, Changkyun.”

You hate how your voice sounds; weak and strained and like you’re just bone deep tired, defeated. Maybe you are.

“What are you talk-”

“Tell me that you weren’t upstairs at Yvonne’s last night,” you sigh, irritated with the ruse. “Tell me that you didn’t go and do the exact thing that you promised me you wouldn’t, and that I didn’t have to find out from fucking Vanda, of all people.”

Pulling away, you slide from his grasp, tucking your arms around your middle so that you wouldn’t be tempted to reach back out for him. It was tortuous, how much you want to reach for him, even when your heart is breaking.

“Sweetheart, I just- it was just going to be one last time, one last game. The pot was too good, it was enough to get you set up, so you could quit,” he lets the sentence hang, almost waiting for you to interrupt, but when you stay silent, he continues. “Joohoney made sure everything was good, and we won just enough to get what we needed, not enough to rock too many boats. I had it under control.”

Closing your eyes, you let the last sentence settle around your shoulders like a heavy weight, the same old feelings bubbling up. “It wasn’t about you being in control or not, Changkyun. It was about listening to me, actually listening to me. You promised.”

It was on the last word that you broke, that the tears started to fall, and for once you didn’t turn away, wanting him to see.

“You promised me you would stay away, and then you didn’t. You hid it. You thought you knew what was best for me, instead of just listening to me.”

Pain laces Changkyun’s face as he takes a step towards you, only pausing when you take an equal step backwards. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I know better, I just-”

“Please leave. I’m done.” Your voice is low but measured, certain.

“Baby, please, let me just explain, and- and-”

“I don’t want to hear an explanation. I want you to leave.” Tears continue to fall, but you don’t drop his stare, willing him to understand just how serious this all is, how serious you are.

He wants to fight it, wants to say more, but something in your eyes must convince him, because he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he moves back to the couch, grabbing his coat and phone, before making his way to the door. His gaze is mournful as he gives you one last look, lingering, before shutting the door behind him.

You aren’t sure how long you stand there, unmoving, before the autopilot kicks back into gear, forcing your limbs to move. Heading towards your room, you place your phone on the charger before you curl into your bed, surrounding yourself with the blankets and the lingering scent of Changkyun.

And then you let yourself break down.

Changkyun was drunk. Too drunk.

He shouldn’t have taken that last shot, especially not after that last drink from the bar. It was too much, but fuck it. Who cares?

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” he mumbles to himself, not caring how crazy he looks. He wishes someone would just give him some direction, tell him what he would need to do in order to fix this.

He didn’t listen. He never listens.

And now he’s lost the only good thing he’s ever fucking had, the only reason he got up each morning and what’s the point, if you’re gone?

Fuck. Fuck.

Sliding down low in the booth, he lets his head hang, the whisky glass precariously dangling in his hand. His body felt so heavy, so numb, and yet the anguish deep in his chest only worsened, throbbed along to music blaring in the club.

If only he could apologize, he’d beg for mercy, he’d promise he’d never fuck up like this ever again. Explain how you were right - how he doesn’t need the money, or any of that shit, as long as he had you.

He needs you.

His heart is in a vice grip, squeezing so tightly that he thinks he might explode from his body, his skin, until he’s nothing but red.

Pain suddenly licks up Changkyun’s palm, and he looks down to see the glass cup gone. In its place are thousands of tiny shards, twinkling in the dim club lights, reflecting everything back to him. More red, but this time welling in his palm, pooling in the deep lines of the skin.

“What the fuck, are you alright dude?”

Changkyun thinks it’s Joohoney who asks him, or maybe it’s Hyungwon? It doesn’t matter either way, because it’s not you.

He goes to stand, to ask for a bandage or a rag or something, but instead his vision blurs, the room spinning. And then he’s flat on his back, blinking up at the cacophony of lights, faces coming in and out of focus, but not the one he needs, not the one he’s looking for.

He can faintly hear his friends talking to him, feel them digging in his pockets for his phone, but he can’t be present anymore. It’s too torturous, too heavy. Much easier to close his eyes, to think about your face. To let himself get lost forever.

He’s happy to die here on the floor of this stupid club, imagining your smile, your laugh, your lips as you say his name.

Changkyun just wants to take care of you, just wants to give you everything that you deserve. How can he do that if he’s here? If he can’t listen?

He lets the darkness swallow him.

Changkyun isn’t sure where he is.

He feels like he got hit by a truck, his head specifically feeling like it had been trampled on, though it’s his right palm that's aching in time to his pulse.

Without moving, he opens his eyes slowly, trying to take in his surroundings. It’s dark, wherever he is, and his head is propped on a pillow, body stretched out on a couch. He can see a small trash can directly in front of him, as if whomever brought him here wasn’t sure if he’d be capable of finding a bathroom if the contents of his stomach decided to make a reappearance, and he groans.

Fingers swipe through his hair, easing the pounding in his skull by a fraction.

“Hi, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Changkyun thinks he has to still be sleeping, must be having a very good dream if it’s your voice he’s hearing, your scent he’s inhaling as he settles onto the pillow. He smiles to himself, not wanting to speak and having the dream fade too soon.

“Changkyun? Are you going to answer me?” This time, you peer over him, leaning down to stroke his face. You let your fingers linger briefly on his cheekbone before lightly touching his lips.

His eyes snap open.

“Is this real?” He asks, voice hoarse, gaze searching your own. He doesn’t feel strong enough to sit up quite yet, but you don’t seem to want to make him, either. “Are you really here?”

“Technically, you’re here at my place, but yes, it’s real.” You reply, your nails sliding back up to his hair to give his scalp a soothing scratch.

He swallows as he stares at you, as he drinks in the tenderness in your eyes that he thought he wouldn’t get a chance to see again. It took him a moment before he recognized your apartment in the dim light, and another more before realizing the pillow he’s laying on is settled in your lap.

Even knowing that this was real, that you truly let him back in, he was still too scared to speak, not wanting to scare you off. Not wanting the moment to end.

When he finally gathered enough courage, he cleared his throat.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. I don’t listen. I hear what you say, and then just act like an ass who thinks he knows everything.” Changkyun swallows thickly. “The only thing I do know is that you’re my everything. You’re all I need. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”

His pleas make your eyes well, and you force yourself to take an even inhale before speaking.

You want to tell him that you couldn’t give him up, that you had tried because you knew it would be easier in the long run, but your heart wouldn’t allow it. You want to say that you had regretted telling him to leave the moment the words left your lips, that you hadn’t meant them. You want to say that you were just so tired of not being heard, of people making decisions for you.

Instead, you roll your eyes playfully. “Now why would I do that, after all the trouble I went through to patch up your hand while you were black out?”

You will tell him those things, but later. When the sting of last night had faded a bit from both of your memories, and the impact intended can land.

He gives you a small grin, meeting your gaze. His hand - the bandaged one - raises slowly, tentatively, until it’s cupping your cheek.

“I just wanted to give you the world,” Changkyun murmurs, almost reverently. “I will give you the world, the right way. It might take me longer, but I will.”

His words soften you more, and you reach for his other hand, pulling him up until he’s facing you. He’s slow to move, the onset of a hangover taking hold, but eventually he settles sitting upright, eyes still intense on your own.

He is always trying to take care of you, trying to lessen your burdens. You know you’re not the best at accepting the help, but dammit, you were trying. For him. And he was trying for you, too.

You lean forward until your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling.

“I already have it, stupid.”

He kisses you then, a gentle press of lips that quickly builds, as everything always does with him. A push and a pull. Changkyun leans away slightly, grins against your mouth. “I’m an idiot, but you already knew that.”

“You’re my idiot. The rest is just noise.”

#changkyun x reader #changkyun smut #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #IM x reader #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x x reader #ksmutclub #im changkyun #i.m monsta x #my writing #fic: god dammit i like it #fic: gdili

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darlingsfandom · 8 months

Note

no thoughts just cillian taking you from behind

happy sinday!!

Happy sinday ✨

not sure why my brain first thought about public-ish sex but that's where it went !

The studio was a bit chilly as you sat behind the camera next to the snack table. You put on your little jacket over the spaghetti straps of your dress and flipped your hair out of the way once you were done. You were a bit exhausted since this was Cillians fourth interview of the day, but it's how you got to spend time with him when he wasn't off filming.

As the interview went on you suddenly felt your ears burning.

"Now Cillian, we have to know about these rumors that have been surfacing over the last few weeks.... do you have a girlfriend who's half your age?" The interviewer smirked to himself as Cillian rubbed his mouth and looked over at you. It wasn't like you two were trying to be a secret , it was just easy to be one since you didn't go out much. You both liked being in each down company and privacy. Cillian looked back at the interviewer as he looked at you and all you could do was give a small wave . "Is that her?? She's a beaut!" Cillians eyes quickly turned dark as your cheeks turned red.

"Yes that's her, she's MY lovely girlfriend." Cillian sat up straight as you felt the familiar heat pool between your legs. You carefully got out of the chair and excused yourself to the bathroom. Cillian excused himself after you to check on you to make sure you're okay after all you weren't use to all of these interviews in one day or so he said so no one would get suspect anything.

It took Cillian a few minutes to find you standing outside the bathroom. He grabbed your hand, pulled you inside and into the stall. His lips latched onto yours hungrily. "Cill... are you sure you want to do this here?" You mumbled between the sloppy kisses. You read his face and nodded before you turned around and lifted up your dress.

"Good girl!" He gave you a harsh spanking as he grabbed your hips and straightened you while your cheek was pressed against the cold stall door. His hands fumbled with his pants until you heard the clink of his belt of the ground. "Look at that baby, you're already wet and I haven't done one thing to you besides look at you." The stretch when he slid his cock into was the familiar burn you were use too. Cillian waited a minute before slowly thrusting into you. He was gentle at first making sure you felt every inch of him deep inside of your wet cunt. You looked over your shoulder at him with those precious doe eyes of yours before he yanked the ends of your hair and pulled you so your back was flat against his chest while his thrusts got faster. His free hand stayed covered over your mouth to make sure your moans were kept for his ears only.

Cillian breathed hard into your ear while pumping into you harder and harder as he let go of your hair and used that hand to reach into your dress and squeeze your breasts. You yelled into his hand as he toyed with your nipples while the sounds of his balls slapping from behind you echoed into the bathroom. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your orgasm took you by surprise because it wasn't your normal one, you had squirted. It wasn't your first squirt but it still took you by surprise to see the evidence all over your legs , the stall and the bathroom floor.

"Good girl!" Cillian kissed the back of your neck as he held you up a little to finish fucking you from behind until his own orgasm filled you up. You could feel the stickiness ooze down your thighs as he pulled out slowly. Cillian grabbed some tissue to clean you up and himself before he turned you around and kissed you lovingly. Once you to were cleaned up, you left the bathroom one at a time before he returned to his interview while you were back in that seat that you started in.

"Good to have you back Cillian, seems like you had a good time." The interviewer pointed to his own neck as Cillian put his hand on his neck and cleared his throat when he realized that you left a nice surprise called a big fat hickey on the side of his beautiful neck .

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x fem!reader #emsblurbs

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fairy-writes · 3 months

Note

Hi! I saw that your requests are open, would you be down to write any Edward Elric fluff? I just love him and I really like your writing <33

DENIAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): FLUFF, Female!Reader, Alchemist!Reader, mildly sexist behavior from Ed in the beginning (but he gets better)

Notes: This was going to be a songfic but instead is based on the song “Despair” by leo. But now it’s not. Mostly because I couldn’t find a website to copy and paste the lyrics from.

__________________________________________________________________________

Edward met you when he was twelve years old. You looked around his age and, sadly, was a few inches taller than him. You were both in Central Command and waiting for the State Alchemist Exam to start among all the other candidates. You were sat on a chair in the corner, pouring over a small pocket notebook with scribbles and writing that looked worse than his own chicken scratch.

Of course, he only knew this because he happened to be doing the same thing.

Not because he thought you were pretty. No no. That would be preposterous!

He wished Alphonse could be there. But after they found out there was a physical evaluation, he dropped out and left the prospect of being a State Alchemist up to Edward.

The exam proctor for the written portion of the exam came out and called everyone inside the exam room. You stood, pocketed your notebook, and went inside. Your eyes caught his, and you offered a friendly smile. Edward just scowled back.

He wasn’t here to make friends.

However, you didn’t let that annoy you, and you took your seat where you were assigned. Coincidentally, it was right in front of Edward. It was obvious that you were both the youngest two at the exam. Everyone else was middle-aged or, at the very least, in their twenties at best.

The exam proctor clapped his hands together,

“You have two hours. Good luck!”

Edward flew through the exam. It was reasonably straightforward, with only a few questions mildly stumping him. Most of the questions were multiple-choice, with a handful of essay questions.

Ha. This written exam was all bullshit if the military thought this would stop him.

Soon enough, he finished the last question in his best handwriting and turned it in to the proctor at the front of the room. He was the first one done at approximately an hour and eleven minutes. He could feel the glares as he exited the exam hall and found you sitting on a bench, pouring over your notes yet again.

“You!” He jabbed an accusatory finger. How were you here? He didn’t see you leave! And you had been sitting right in front of him! You look up, startled like a deer in the headlights, but soon, your face smooths to that irritating friendly smile.

“It’s you again! How did you do on the exam?” You say conversationally, and his brain stalls.

Something about your voice makes his heart stutter.

“Uh… what?” Edward fumbles, and you shut your book and slip it into the back pocket of your overalls, stretching your arms above your head.

“Man, I thought it was hard! Those field questions were tricky!” You forge onward with your rather one-sided conversation, adjusting your shirt under your overalls. You wore dirty overalls, a dirty black long-sleeved shirt, and dirty rubber-soled sneakers. The left one was untied. Overall, you looked… not… very well put together. He was pretty sure you had mud smeared above your eyebrow. Hell, even Edward wore his best clothes, a button-down and some slacks, at Granny’s insistence.

“The test was easy.” Edward eventually says, and you huff playfully,

“‘Course it was for you. But I still finished first, didn't I?” You tease, and he feels his cheeks flush.

“This isn’t a competition!” At that, you stare with your eyebrows raised,

“Not everyone becomes a State Alchemist, y’know. So it kind of is a competition.” You say, and he throws his hands up and storms away. He didn’t have time for you. He had to go back to his hotel room and prepare for the practical phase.

Edward met you next in Colonel Roy Mustang’s office.

He had just received his certification as the Fullmetal Alchemist when there was a knock on the door. Alphonse turned, his armor clanking slightly as he moved to open the door.

“Come in,” Mustang called, a grin on his face that Edward did not like. “It seems like your partner is here, Fullmetal,” he said as the door opened, and you peeked your head in.

“You!” He jumps up and points yet again. You cringe but recognize him easily enough and jab a finger at him.

“You made it through the exam!” You shriek, and he flinches himself at your volume.

Mustang quirks an eyebrow,

“You already seem acquainted.” He comments almost dumbly, and Edward grits his teeth.

“She finished the exam before me.” He grinds out, and Mustang’s eyebrow raises even higher. He leans his chin on his clasped hands.

“So this is the one who got a perfect score. You don’t look like much,” He muses, and Edward bites back a snippy retort. The fact that he hadn’t gotten a perfect score was a touchy subject. After all, he had missed one question—one!

You give a mock bow and straighten,

“Well, you don’t look like much yourself, sir.” You quip, and Alphonse stifles a laugh. Mustang sighs and mutters under his breath something that sounds suspiciously like, “Great, now there’s two of you.” He then claps his hands together softly and looks at both of you, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Now, Fullmetal, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner. This is the Ink Alchemist. Ink, this is the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric.” He said, and immediately, Edward spotted a problem.

“Partner? No way! I’m not working with some girl!” He snaps and sees you roll your eyes out of the corner of his vision.

“So you’re one of those people?” You sneer, and he bares his teeth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Before you two can start bickering, Mustang interjects.

“It’s under orders of the Führer himself that you two work together. So I suggest you both put aside your differences and get along.” He says, and you almost snap to attention like a dog looking at its master. Which Edward supposed, in a way, you were.

Just like he was.

Dogs of the military.

“So… what kind of alchemy do you do?” Alphonse said awkwardly as you and Edward scowled at each other. You three are on a train, heading toward Resembool to give Granny and Winry the fantastic news of Edward becoming a State Alchemist. But, of course, you had to tag along to “as his partner.”

Edward was partially tempted to ditch you at a random train station.

But he had tried that already, and it hadn’t worked.

You perked up at the question and reached for your long sleeves. Your shirt was at least clean this time.

“Oh wow! That’s beautiful!” Alphonse gasped, and you grinned.

Even Edward has to admit your transmutation circles are indeed beautiful.

Extra lines swirl out from the circles themselves, decorating your arms like vines of flowers. He even spies a few doodled flowers in the bare spaces between circles. They dot your arm in varying sizes and intricacy, with the largest being the size of your palm and the smallest being almost the size of Edward’s thumb. Even the tiny ones had an insane amount of detail.

You preen under the attention but soon work your sleeves back down your arms and sit back in your seat next to Edward.

“I designed ‘em myself! That’s where I got the name the Ink Alchemist!” you say, and when Alphonse asks more questions, you are happy to launch into a lecture worthy of his old school teacher.

Edward has to admit… you looked really pretty when you were excitedly talking about alchemy with his younger brother.

Admittedly, Edward’s little “crush” (though he refused to say it was one) grew bigger and bigger each day. Days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years. And that meant it grew harder and harder to hide from your keen eyes. You were brilliant—one of the smarter alchemists he knew—and pretty. Even though you were taller than him, he could look past that.

Alphonse picked up on it, Winry picked up on it, and even Colonel Mustang picked up on it! And truthfully? Mustang was the absolute worst about it. He always watched you and Edward interact with a smug smile as if this was all his doing.

And Edward had the inkling that it was that you two were paired together. Because why would the Führer pair two prepubescent teens together?

But as the two of you hit eighteen and Edward finally grew past you in height, things changed.

It was the week before you confronted Father and his plans.

Edward meandered away from the dying campfire and found you under the stars in a meadow. Darius, Heinkel, and Greed were all presumably fast asleep in their sleeping bags, and it was his turn to keep watch.

They were in the middle of nowhere. Edward could spare a few minutes from night watch to talk to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and you jump, nearly spilling your pot of ink that was balanced precariously on your knee. You hold a paintbrush in hand and are retracing the many transmutation circles that litter your arms.

He could never get over how pretty they were.

“Not really. I wanted to get these redone before… y’know… everything.” You say, and he takes a seat next to you, his automail leg creaking as he does so. He hadn’t maintained it in forever, it was stiffening up.

“We still have a whole week before the eclipse.” He reminds you, and you look up at the stars, tracing the constellations with your eyes.

“I know, but I can’t sit here and do nothing.” You reply, and he hums, thinking back to when he first met you.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts into the night sky and sees you frown and look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“For what?” You ask, and he shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up. It wasn’t like him to be so sentimental! What was wrong with him?!

He only got like this when you were around.

“For how I acted when we first met… Ditching you at the station… refusing to work with you… And—”

“Woah, woah, woah, where’s this coming from?! We aren’t going to die next week, are we?!” You cut him off, panicked, and nearly spilled your ink again. He caught it with his left hand right as you grabbed it, and your fingers brushed.

“I don’t plan on it… But all these years have had me thinking how awful I was to you. And for no reason other than my pride.” The words come tumbling out, and he gets more and more heated until you kneel in front of him and cup his face.

That gets him to shut up real quick.

“You were twelve, Ed.” You say gently and he huffs, opening his mouth to speak some more when you put a finger to his lips. Your skin is soft against his mouth, and he can smell the ink staining your fingertips.

You continue to talk unabashed,

“You were twelve, and I forgave you a long time ago. I care for you a lot. We’ve been working together for what, six years? I know I didn’t make it easy to work with me either.” You finish, and he sighs, ducking his head in embarrassment. Then, before he can stop himself, he pulls you into a tight hug. You return it immediately.

“I have something to tell you after all this is over.” He mumbles and hears you chuckle. His heart, as it always does, skips a beat at the sound.

Maybe when they defeat Father, he can tell you how he really feels.

Instead of living in denial.

#edward elric x reader #ed elric x reader #edward elric x you #edward elric x y/n #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fullmetal x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fairy writes

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biisexualemma · 8 months

Text

happier (pt.6). rafe cameron

word count: 3.8k

warnings: unwanted passes, bit of angst, mostly fluff

requested: i guess soo

plot: you and rafe are figuring out this dating thing

a/n: it has literally been 6 months since i last updated series… whoops… i have some much written for this series but it’s all in bits and pieces and i’m trying to rewrite bits / put stuff together and it’s taking a minute lol but anyway enjoy the 2 people who will read this lol

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / masterlist

texting

bold = rafe

italics = y/n

hey

very ominous first text rafe

all i said was hey

exactly

and it's you so

what else am i supposed to say?

idk

'hey y/n'

'hi how are you?'

''sup what you up to?'

you'd rather me start the conversation with 'sup'

it's less serial killer-y so maybe

alright next topic please

YOU texted me rafe

yeah and you said i sounded like a serial killer so excuse me if i'm a little wounded

didn't think that was even possible mr big-shot kook prince

please never call me that again

because it's too on the nose?

you always this annoying?

nah i just like making things difficult for you

cuz your life is too easy as it is

you think you're so funny

i know you do too :)

you're still hanging around sooo

your eyes dragged away from your phone screen, and away from where rafe was currently typing out his response, when you heard a honk from outside your house. you peeped out the window and saw the twinkie pulled up outside, lights still on and engine running as they waited for you.

you grabbed your shoes and jacket, still holding onto your phone when another message popped up as you were making your way out of your house to meet your friends.

yeah yeah

just tell me what you're not doing tonight so i can come pick you up

you rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness, a small smile on your lips as you grabbed your keys and closed the door behind you. you texted back as you walked to the twinkie, hardly looking where you were going.

believe it or not i have plans

i don't sit around waiting for you to text me you know

> why not? >:(

you let out a snort, shaking your head as you typed out a response just as you approached the beat up van where sarah and john b were waiting for you. you clumsily climbed into the back, sarah watching you fumble as your fingers and eyes remained glued to your phone screen.

my life does not revolve around you rafe cameron

as much as i'm sure you want it to

yeah i do actually

guess we don't always get what we want

this is a valuable lesson that you're long overdue to learn little trust fund baby

wow

you're actually so mean and for what

yeah i'm not very good at this flirting thing tbh

yeah i got that

yeah? did the serial killer comment tip you off?

amongst other things

ok well maybe i'll just remind you that i think about you more than i care to elaborate on right now

that was better...

you're learning

thank you

i'm trying my best

we'll circle back to that comment at some point though

don't think i'll forget that one

yeah you think about that while you're home alone tonight

wow

wait not like that

don't take it back now that was good

it's not what i meant!!

"what is she grinning about?" sarah quirked an eyebrow, muttering to john b as she watched you trying to buckle up with one hand while you texted with the other.

john b watched you in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. neither of them could recall a time they'd seen you look so giddy, you were always misplacing your phone and now you couldn't tear your eyes away.

sarah gasped softly and john b's eyes quickly darted over to his girlfriend, wide and wondering what she suddenly knew that he didn't.

sarah grabbed john b's arm and shook it a little, all giddy herself now but john b still looked just as confused. "what? what? tell me!" he whined.

"she asked me and kie for advice the other night," she clarified, lowering her voice a little, though you were entirely consumed in your own conversation. john b's eyes were still full of confusion. he didn't understand girls at the best of times but this was beyond his comprehension all together. sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "about a boy."

john b glanced at you for a second before moving back to his girlfriend, shaking his head. "i didn't think y/n was even interested in guys."

"oh just because she didn't fall at your feet john b doesn't mean she doesn't like guys," sarah scoffed, hitting his chest lightly. john b went to defend himself but quickly stopped because he thought she might be onto something.

you suddenly grew aware of your surroundings, realising the twinkie was still stationary. your eyes lifted up from your phone for a second to see sarah biting back a grin and john b staring you out in the rearview mirror.

"uh," you looked around like something was wrong. "are we waiting for something or what? why are we still sitting here?"

"nope," sarah narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned at her, mouth opening slightly in confusion. she looked like she knew things. "c'mon get going, john b."

weird you thought, shaking your head when another message appeared on your phone.

i know what you meant don't worry ;)

no you don't

you'll know what i mean when i actually mean it

tease

shut up

i gotta go rick

who tf is rick

you

i'm rick?

yeah you're rick

i don’t understand

that's your name from now on

at least via text

so if anyone sees these messages they don't get suspicious

that's crazy

i lose my phone a lot it's not that crazy

that's not the crazy part

just play along please?

i'm not ready for people to find out about this yet

whatever this is

what is this again?

that's a question for another time

see you around

- rick

you fell back against the blanket you'd laid out on the grass, eyes immediately falling upon the stars above you. you sighed contentedly, oblivious to the curious eyes that were watching you from beside you.

"you seem happy," jj spoke up from where he was sitting next to you. "what's that about?"

you snorted, your head rolling to the side so you could glance up at him. "what? i can't just be happy?"

he made a face at you, his hand nudging your arm. "you know what i mean," he shook his head. "you've been so tired and grumpy lately, no offence," he said the last part quickly when he saw your face contort into one that looked offended. "you just seemed like normal today. it was nice."

you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching the rest of the gang who'd gone for a quick swim. kie had launched herself onto pope, dunking him under the water and laughing hysterically when he came back up for air looking bewildered. sarah was floating on her back, eyes up at the stars while john b held his hands underneath her so she wouldn't sink down. you didn't feel like swimming after the amount of food you'd eaten so jj decided to sit with you and keep you company.

you shrugged. "i don't know," you could feel jj's eyes watching you. "i just feel more like myself i guess. i don't know why."

it was a bit of a lie. with everything out of the open between you and rafe, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you thought it'd be hard to lie to your friends about it, but none of them really asked you outright so you didn't find yourself having to lie at all. everything just seemed to be going better for now.

"well i'm glad anyway," he gave you a soft smile. jj was a good friend, and most of the time he played into the reputation he had, but every now and again he would show the other side of him. he was loyal to his core and just wanted to see his friends happy. "you feel like swimming yet?" his lips stretched into a wide grin, nudging your shoulder as he tried to encourage you.

you couldn't help but smile back, he was infectious. you let your head roll back before sitting yourself upright. "fine, c'mon," you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it at his face. "race you," you quickly jumped up, undoing your shorts as you ran towards the water, only stopping when you got to the edge to pull your shorts off the rest of the way.

jj was racing behind you, not bothering to remove anything other than his shirt as he whizzed past you and threw himself into the water, shoes and all. "cannon ball!" he screamed and pope, kie, john b and sarah all tried to clear out as quickly as they could but he didn't give them much notice before a crashing wave of water soaked them all even more. a chorus of angry jj's followed but you couldn't help but laugh before throwing yourself in after him.

—

texting

you awake pretty girl?

hey

y/n

rafe it's late

you asleep?

fast asleep yeah

that's why i'm txting you right now

come to the party

rafe it's 1 am i'm with my friends

still?

haven't they had enough of you

rude

i mean they're hogging you

how old are you?

ditch em c'mon

i'm more fun anyway

i'm gonna bet you're drunk

or high

and?

doesn't change anything

still wanna see you

you always this clingy with girls?

mmm funny

you know it's just you

you think i'd be texting you at this party if it wasn't just you

maybe no ones caught your eye yet

yeah you have

so get your ass over here or i'm coming to get you

relentless

you love it

hmmm

just come and get me

everyone will be asleep by the time you get here

on my way

can you drive?

'course i can

ok but are you sober enough?

don't worry about it

rafe

i'm good i promise

swear?

swear

half an hour later and you'd sneaked out of john b's house unnoticed and were sitting in the passenger seat of rafe's car. last time you were in this seat he was driving you home from a party, and now you were going to a party... with him.

"hey," he mumbled as you secured your seatbelt, his eyes raking over you, smile on his lips.

"hey yourself," you chirped, still pretty awake considering the late hour, you were used to running off no sleep most of the time. you noticed him staring at you instead of starting the car and driving. "what?"

"you look really pretty right now."

you glanced away from him, feeling your cheeks grow warm from the compliment. "shut up and drive, rafe," you mumbled, meeting his eyes quickly as he shook his head and breathed out a laugh.

"yes ma'am," he did as you said, driving you to the other side of town, to a house you didn't recognise but was probably four times bigger than your own. you felt a wave of anxiety all of a sudden when rafe parked the car and got out. he appeared again on the passengers side where you still sat, seatbelt on.

he opened the door, leaning on the frame of the car and ducking down to see you sat still. "c'mon," he urged but you quickly shook your head.

"this is a bad idea," you blurted out, eyes shifting to meet rafes. "i don't think i should go in there— definitely not with you."

rafe, for a split second, looked wounded but he quickly played it off. "you're overthinking it."

"rafe, your friends hate me," your lip involuntarily slipped into a small pout, your eyes not moving from his. "i can't just go to a kook party, when i hate kooks and they hate me."

your eyes moved down to your thigh where rafe had moved his hand to sit against your skin. you gulped. "i'm a kook and i don't hate you," he reassured, giving your thigh a squeeze before shifting his hand. "if anyone has a problem with you being here they can take it up with me."

"rafe," your voice came out smaller than you had intended. your mind was pretty focused on his hand and where it was moving, until you heard a click and your seatbelt was retracting. "i don't want you messing things up with your friends over me."

he shook his head, his hand latching onto yours and tugging you out of the passenger seat. he closed the car door and guided you towards the house. "'told you they're not my friends."

"still— won't it make things awkward—"

"oh my god," he turned around, smile on his lips when he came to halt, you nearly bumping into his chest. "i told you i don't care what people think, and i really don't care what my friends think."

he let go of your hand, moving his hands to either side of your face. your breath caught in your throat when he moved his face directly in front of yours. he squished your cheeks together, his stomach churning when you looked up at him with your big, nervous eyes.

"c'mon," he urged again. "you'll be fine s'long as you're with me," he offered you a reassuring smile, hands slipping from your face, his arm moving to sit on your shoulders, pulling you close into him. "you're good, ok?"

you took his word for it, trusting him in that moment that everything would be fine as long as you stayed with rafe.

—

"do you want another drink?" rafe hummed the question to you, his fingertips grazing the skin of your arm, before moving back down to sit snug on your waist. his eyes were looking up at you from where you sat on his lap.

you had relaxed somewhat since you got here, making yourself comfortable on rafes lap after he insisted that no one was watching, nor cared. you took his word for it and he wasn't wrong, the people at this party were too high or drunk to care who's lap you were sitting on.

you shrugged, glancing at your empty cup. you hadn't drank much, it was already late and you didn't feel like having a hangover tomorrow so you didn't push it. "i could do a water."

"water? sure, i got you," he nodded, repositioning you so you sat back on the sofa while he went on the hunt for water.

you propped your head up with your hand, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa. you peered out the corner of your eye when you felt someone sit next to you.

"hey you're y/n, right?" you turned to face the guy that had sat himself beside you, he wore a small smile on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. you recognised him from around town but not enough to know his name.

"uh, yeah," you gave him a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile before turning away from him, hoping to discourage him continuing to talk to you.

"i think i've seen you around the club," he carried on, not picking up on anything. you nodded, pursing your lips. "i'm alex."

he held out his hand for you to shake, you looked down at it in almost disbelief but shook it still to be polite. "cool," you said with a twinge of sarcasm.

"sorry if this is forward— i just think you're really pretty— i've been watching you for a while—"

"you've been watching me?" you repeated his words, your brows furrowing slightly.

he let out an awkward laugh. "not in a stalker-y way— i just noticed you is what i meant."

"sure," you nodded. "i'm kinda here with someone else though. sorry," you tried to let him down easy, with another small smile despite your discomfort.

"ok well you're sitting here alone," he breathed out a laugh, as if he'd caught you in a lie.

your smile drooped a little. "he's getting me a drink. not that i need to explain myself."

he huffed, seeming to grow agitated with you. "you could just say you're not interested instead of coming up with a lame excuse."

your mouth hung open slightly. "the truth actually— not that i even owe you that but sure whatever."

"last time i try talking to a fucking pogue," he muttered under his breath before picking himself up and walking away. "not even that pretty," he muttered under his breath.

you sat for a couple minutes in silent disbelief, blinking a few times before pushing yourself up off the sofa and beginning your search for rafe. you'd had enough of this party and he was your ride home.

you finally found him in the kitchen on the other side of this humongous house, filling up a cup with some water. you approached from behind him, feeling his body stiffen when he felt your hands snake around his torso.

"hey," you felt him relax slightly when you spoke, realising it was you holding onto him. he turned to face you, your hands gripping the shirt he was wearing as he looked down at you.

"oh hey," he mumbled, you were standing pretty close but your eyes shifted about the room. "what's up? i was just coming to bring you—"

"can we go now, please?" you cut him off quickly, eyes moving back to his pleadingly. his brows furrowed a little when he saw your anxiety-ridden expression again.

"you're good here," he spoke in a hushed voice, setting aside the cup in his hand so he could move his hands to your waist. "we're good."

he tried to reassure you but it wasn't enough, you wanted to go home, you didn't want to see another self-entitled kook tonight (excluding the one in front of you).

you shook your head, adamant, "no— rafe— i want to leave."

his grip on you tightened a little. "did something happen?" his brows knitted together slightly, standing up a little straighter.

"no," you shook your head quickly. "i just want to go— rafe— please—"

"ok, ok," he rooted for his car keys in his pocket, his free hand grabbing yours and pulling you out of the kitchen. "we'll go, c'mon."

you followed him out of the party, trailing behind him, he helped you into the passenger seat, even trying to buckle you in until you insisted that you got it and that you were fine.

"i'm sorry," you mumbled after a while of sitting in silence, reflecting on your actions. rafe driving on the quiet roads, not saying a word or looking in your direction. "i didn't mean to ruin your night."

"you didn't," he spoke quietly.

you eyed him up, his hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road, lips pulled into a tight line. "i feel like you're mad at me."

"now you wanna talk?"

"you're mad at me."

"i'm not mad at you."

"rafe—"

"i'm not mad at you," he repeated, a little shorter than before. "i just want you to talk to me."

"i am talking to you—"

"you know what i mean," he cut you off again. "i can't help if you don't talk to me."

you were quiet for a second before speaking again. "this guy was rude to me at the party, that's all," you felt his eyes move over to you for a split second. "i felt out of place and wanted to leave."

he thought on it for a minute. "rude to you how?"

you chewed on your bottom lip, not wanting to answer him, partly because you were still mad but mainly because you were kind of embarrassed.

you huffed. "he was trying to hit on me and when i told him no he got all hurt and mean."

rafe was quiet for a minute, he was picking his words and his tone carefully, trying not to let his imagination run wild. "he was mean to you?"

"it's just guys, they get like that— bruised egos you know, kooks are the worst for it," you shrugged. "i didn't want to tell you back then because i didn't want to make it into a big thing or cause a scene. i just wanted to leave, with you."

"ok, but you're fine? did he try anything?" his knuckles were turning white at this point, you found it hard to look away.

you shook your head, but when he looked over at you for a second for confirmation you spoke, "i'm fine. it was just weird and awkward."

he nodded and you were both quiet for a while after that.

you knew rafe was a hot head, you knew he didn't always think before he acted, and maybe you should've just told him what happened straight away but part of you was glad you didn't.

"where am i dropping you off?"

"john b's is fine."

"won't your dad wonder where you are?"

your eyes focused on the road ahead still but you could feel him stealing glances at you. "i already told him i'd be at john b's tonight."

"you sure?" you nodded and so he dropped you back off at the house he'd picked you up from a few hours ago. the sun was just starting to rise, creating just enough light so that you could see his face. he still looked pissed.

you were looking at him with big, tired, bloodshot eyes when he turned his head towards you. your eyelids drooping slightly the longer you focused on him.

"y'promise you're good?" he mumbled.

you nodded. "do you promise you're not angry at me?"

he rolled his eyes, glancing away for a second, the corner of his lip curling upwards softly. "could never be angry at you when you look like that."

"like what? exhausted?"

he hissed softly, shaking his head. he reached his hand out, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you closer to him. "you're always so fucking pretty," his eyes raked over your face one last time, kissing your forehead before immediately shoving your face away with the palm of his hand. "now get outta' my sight, you're turning me on looking like that."

you snorted, ignoring the way your stomach fluttered at his actions. "you're such a boy," you joked before saying goodnight and hopping out of his car.

you walked up to the house with a small smile on your face, despite the bump in the night, you felt good about where this was going with rafe. you felt positive, giddy and your head was kinda foggy thinking about him.

"y/n?" you stopped in your tracks when you heard your name from his mouth. "was that rafe's car?"

shit.

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