#c: stranger things requests

[lemon-boy-stan]

Can I have a Steve Harrington x Munson female reader where she's the one that gets dragged into the upside down instead of Steve and is the one that gets hurt. Lots of Steve fluff where he's just worried about her being hurt along with Eddie telling her she's stupid for doing that and being worried brother

hiiii anon, tysm for this request, i cried while writing it so i hope you enjoy lol (also im so sorry i forgot about the munson!reader 😔😔, hope you like it anyway??) I DID NOT SEE THE FLUFF PART I AM SO TREMENDOUSLY SORRY

"0x1 = LOVESONG"

summary: steve's girlfriend dives into lover's lake instead of steve. genre: angst. warnings: swearing, sexual references (literally just one), mentions of death, death scene. pairing: steve harrington x reader. an: based on this song by txt. also, i don't know the word count but its long asf lmfao

in this world of zero / i know / you're my / one and only.

in this endless darkness / like / oh my god, / so / holy.

from the / tip of my fingers / everything / runs / far away

my life / before you / was a mess,

couldn't win / this one round / of chess.

Steve turned to you with a growl, continuing his rant. "I swear to god, Y/N, if you die here I am going to kill you. I will kill you dead." you grinned at his words, "yeah, 'cause that's what 'killing you' means." and Steve glared at you. You rolled your eyes.

Eddie snorted, "your love language is one kind of strange, Harrington." Steve huffed loudly, puffing out his chest. You nuzzled your head into his neck, kissing his skin softly. "Don't worry, Stevie," you whispered softly, "I'm going to be okay. We're all gonna be okay." Steve nodded uneasily, letting out a shaky sigh. "I know," he said quietly, "I know. I just... I can't loose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't loose you, baby. I don't wanna love anyone else."

You let out a broken sob, trying to muffle it in his shirt, "you won't. You won't, I promise." The boat was silent for a while, with nothing but the tide of Lover's Lake and the shuffling sounds of Eddie playing with the sleeves of his leather jacket to keep you company.

Robin slid the antenna of the radio up towards the sky and spoke into it what you were sure she thought was quietly, but evidently was not, because it broke the long, suffering silence. "Uh, Dustin. Your compass has gone from broken to completely screwed with a capital - ahh!" the kid spoke from the other end of the receiver, "then I think you've found watergate."

Steve frowned, clearing his throat, "what's Watergate?" you shrugged. Nancy turned to where you sat, "uh, I think 'cause it's under water and it's a gate." you nodded your understanding. Steve gripped your hand even tighter.

Robin radioed off, "alright, well, it's in the Lake, but I think we should try and see where it is first before, you know, jumping aimlessly into the beyond..." you stood up. "I'll do it." no one else had as much under water experience as you did.

Steve shook his head violently, standing up too. "Y/N, no. You're not going down there alone. You're not." eyes looking like they would start flowing with tears any minute, you hated how stressed this was making him, but you were the only one who could go down there.

"Steve," you said slowly, "Steve, baby, I've got to go down there and see where it is. I need you up here to come get me if anything happens, but I need you up here if anything happens to me down there." this only made him panic more but you kept talking anyway, "but I'm the only one who's qualified to go down there, baby. I've got eleven medals in diving and I've done three years of lifegaurd training, but I need you here to come get me later."

And then Steve started yelling, "NO, Y/N! YOU'RE NOT GOING DOWN THERE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Robin and Nancy jumped in shock at the tone he never raised.

His eyes started to glint with tears but nothing actually fell, "WE ARE NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION! YOU ALREADY PUSHED IT BY GETTING ON THE DAMN BOAT. I'M GOING DOWN THERE, I WAS CO-CAPTAIN OF THE SWIM TEAM AND I CAN DIVE, TOO. END OF CONVERSATION, STAY ON THE FUCKING BOAT."

You sighed softly, knowing he would forever hate you for doing this, but shrugged off the denim jacket anyways, Steve's cotton shirt hugging you tightly.

"Sorry, Steve," you whispered the words before pivoting quickly, staring into the murky obsidian lake water; and you dove. Steve roared loudly, rocking the boat angrily, making the girls shriek and Eddie swear in shock.

"Fucking bitch!" grumbled Steve, panic, worry, fear rolling in his mind, "fucking crazy bitch! She can't even see anything down there, she's gonna get herself killed, for fuck's sake..." he let out a tearless sob. Robin grabbed his shoulders, "hey, Steve. Your girlfriend's right, she is a really good swimmer. And besides, saw Eddie pass her a torch just before she went in." and Steve's breaths began to slow. Robin was right, Steve had seen yn dive from the highest platforms. He'd even seen her save kids in riptides who were close to drowning. She would be okay.

You let the torch in your hand guide you, the yellow light illuminating the dark blue waves of Lover's Lake as you swam through the bitter cold. Steve's shirt was not barely enough, and didn't even cover your arms, but you knew that the denim jacket would just drag you down.

You were counting in your head, how long you'd stayed under the water, and were up to just past thirty seconds as you kicked harder and swam below the darkness, towards the glowing red, away from Hawkins above.

And that's where you saw it, at the fifty-second mark, blaring through a heap of jagged rocks, brighter than police sirens, angrier than bleeding blood red. The vines crept along the center of it, hiding watergate from the deep.

In your head, Steve's voice told you not to go near the vines, but the vines themselves were pulling you near them, calling you. So you swam closer to Watergate, close enough to see that there was white in the red colouring of the lights.

And then one of the vines shot upwards and you screamed, silent bubbles leaping from your mouth, dropping the torch as it floated in the lake. You kicked, as fast as you could, back up towards the Lake, up to where the shadow of the boat was. "Just kep Swimming," said the Steve in your head, "you can do it. I know you can." fifty-five. Fifty-six. Fifty-seven Fifty-eight. You were going to die. Fifty-nine. You were going to die. Sixty - "hi guys."

The watter rippled beneath the boat and Robin swore loudly as head popped out, then your shoulders. Steve let out a gasp of relief. "Hi guys," you grinned widely, swimming over to the boat, "So the kid's a genius. I found Watergate and I think -"

But then Steve let out a horrified scream, an actual scream as your hands lost grip of Eddie's boat. You tried to look at what he was screaming at, but you felt it for yourself. The vines guarding Watergate had grabbed your ankle. You were screaming, too, heart thump, thump thumping. Steve gripped the surface of your hands, but the vines were stronger. They pulled you down, all the way down. Your heart was beating too unnaturally fast.

Steve screamed in horror, gripping on to your wrist, he didn't care if you would break. He couldn't loose you. He couldn't. But the words tumbled from his mouth, "baby, no!" and you slipped from his grasp, the current tumbling over your head, breath fading as the bubbles leapt in a wordless scream of your boyfriend's name.

And suddenly it was all over, the drowning. The vines dragged and dragged, under the water, under Hawkins. The water was gone, and for a while you thought you were dead; you opened your eyes and your breath vanished again, for a split second.

The upside down. You'd remembered listening to Will's tales of it in '83, but you'd never actually believed it. The place might as well be hell. It was like a bad joke, dead, blue, and red all over. But you didn't get to marvel at the place long enough. Because the vines, the vines were still attatched to your ankles.

And there were more or them now. More of them, that came from the blue-grey ground. They were taking it, your breath, as they wrapped around your limbs and skin and body. You'd thought you were going to die in the lake, but you knew you were going to die here now. There was no point in screaming. No one was going to hear you from another dimension.

from this / bottomless pit / you're the only one / shining gold.

now, i can't / stop thinking about you / when i'm sinking / alone.

And so you searched and searched in your mind until you found him, found his calm, safe words. Steve coaxed you, "it's okay to die. It's okay. I won't be upset, I promise. You can let go, baby. You can just let go." but then the other Steve, the other Steve spoke in shattered sobs, "you can't die, baby. You can't die. You've got so much for you, we have so much ahead of us. We haven't even gone to the Grand Canyon. We have to go to the Grand Canyon. Please. Please don't leave me."

And as the bats tore away at your skin and the vines wrapped around your limbs, you hung on. Clinging to his voice, both his voicees inside your head, trying to wrestle free from the grasp of the vines. "Keep fighting," said the Steves, "you've gotta keep fighting." they were the same person now. Keeping you going.

The tears, even though you didn't want them to, fell from your cheeks, you let out more sobs as they mixed with your blood, stinging the gashing scars. "It's okay," cried Steve softly, "it's okay. You're gonna be okay,"

the angel who one day, / appeared / to me

take me away / to your / hometown

i know / it's real / i can feel it

im full of problems / lovesick / nowhere else to go / i was fine to die, / i'm a loser / in this game.

the only one / rule / of this world / save me / take my hand, / please use me / like a drug.

"FUCK YOU!" Steve's voice rang low and loud, echoing throughout Hawkins. You craned your neck up because you didn't believe what you were hearing, you didn't believe it at all. Steve.

Not the Steve in your head, the real Steve, tears streaming down his stranger cheeks that never recognised crying. Steve roared loudly, "FUCK YOU!" a boat oar in his hands, "FUCK YOU AND YOU AND YOU!" Steve leapt at the bats, taking them out in groups of three and five.

Nancy shot them with her rifle, and Eddie and Robin tackled with them until the remaining two squeaked and flew away into the crimson red night. Eddie pumped his fists in the air, "EAT SHIT, DRACULA!" he turned to Steve and grinned, "guess there were vampires after all."

But Steve wasn't listening. He didn't care about the vampires. He just cared about getting you to saftey. Steve tore at the vines, ripping them in half. He thought that maybe it was the sudden course of adrenaline making him stronger, or the fear of loosing his girlfriend.

Either way, he tore through them, grabbing you rougly and ripping you from the ground. You cried out in pain and he almost broke down right there and then, but he told himself to get his shit together.

say you love me / say you love me

till the / end of the world. / all or nothing,

i want all of you / i know i love you.

i'm not going to make it / i won't be able to get / into heaven / i don't / belong there / there's no place / for me / in heaven.

at / the tips of my feet / everything / turned / pitch

"Steve," you sobbed loudly, "Steve. It hurts." Steve choked back his own sob, "shh. Shh. know. I know. You're so strong. We're gonna get you safe, okay? You're so strong. Just hold on for me, okay, baby? Can you walk, princess? Can you stand up for me. Please."

You coughed before nodding grimly, "yeah. I think. I think I can. Not ready yet. Not ready to go. Gonna - need you help me stand please Stevie please," Steve choked again as he watched you cough up blood, wiping it gently away from your chin. "Yeah, of couse, of course,"

Steve took three deep breaths, "I'm just gonna lift you. I'm gonna lift you now, okay, sweetheart?" you nodded at him, mind blank, focusing completely on his words. "Steve," you whispered, "keep talking. Please. I don't wanna die, please keep talking please."

black / in this world / of ice / you're my one /

shining glow. / now i can't / stop / thinking about you / when i'm / sinking / alone

i'm full of / problems / lovesick / no way /

to go / i was fine / to die / im a loser / in this game /

the only one rule / of this world / save me

take my hand / please use me like a drug / i know

i love you

Steve nodded, "okay. Okay, baby. Shh. Just listen to me talk, yeah?" it hurt to move, but you hoped he knew you were listening. Steve let out a shattered breath as he got you on your feet.

He smiled, "do you... do you remember how you alway got mad at me for walking into rooms when you were alone in them?" he chuckled softly, "it was - it was because you would always sing when you thoight I wasn't there. And I said you should consider it, singing, I mean, but you always said no because you said you sounded like Tammy Tohmpson."

"And I said, 'no, she sounds like a muppet. You sound actually good.' and you said, 'no, I sound like a muppet.' and also, also -"

You let out a sharp cry of pain as you walked.

Steve tried not to sob, "also do you remember that night in freshman year at Josh's party where you got really drunk and when you gret drunk you get sad and you told me, you said you were fat and ugly and I got so mad I got so mad because it's not true at all and oh my god we went for so long that night oh my god. I kept telling you how pretty you were."

He still kept talking.

"Or that time. '84. Where you - you saved me from Billy and you kicked his ass and I kept on thinking, you're so fucking hot and awesome - no. No. No, no, no. Please. Please baby. Please don't go. Please. Please, no! Please baby. Please. NO, DON'T FUCKING LEAVE ME DON'T FUCKING LEAVE ME PLEASE Y/N PLEASE PLEASE DON'T GO DON'T GO,"

But you were going. You knew you were going. You smiled softly, "it's okay, Stevie," standing limp on the ground, "I - It's okay." and Steve cried, sobbing big loud tears, "no, nononononono." you held your smile, "I could never make six kids anyway." giggling quietly, ignoring the blood. Steve sobbed, "I don't need six kids. I don't even need one kid. I just need you. I love you. Please. Please I love you so much." your ankle twisted so you fell and he held you in a bridal position, "it's okay, Stevie. I love you too. It's okay. I wanna... tell me ... the ... the Grand Canyons. And... and the Rockies."

Steve nodded but he was still crying, "we'd go... in a caravan. Just Like Eddie's. Every Summer. Our kids. Would... they would be so fucking loud and noisy, Y/N, you have no idea. Even more annoying than those little shitheads.

It would be so hot in there but I don't think they would mind, and on late nights we'd just chill under the stars and I'd try to stargaze but you know stars are difficult so anyway I think we would just sit there and watch them.

We would have three boys and three girls and they would run around the backyard and they would always be fighting with each other but that's okay because I mean, like, Dustin and stuff fight all the time and anyway I don't think that would matter.

We could have a dog. It would be because the kids wanted it and they said they'd look after it but it would always end up to be you and I who looked after it, we could call it Gumbo like that little green dude, you know... and I don't think we'd live in Hawkins but I do think we'd come back sometimes, just for old time's sake..." and Steve kept talking, talking long after he knew the lights had gone out, because he knew it was what you wanted.

>> stranger things masterlist << requests are open!

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[rainypebble07]

Heard a plea for requests? Happy to deliver!

Would you be interested in byler as surgeons? (No extensive medical knowledge required for this btw, because we both know they will throw it out the window in favour of accidental malpractice anyways)

this was actually really fun bc I feel like they’d be so bad at it

(No one was harmed in the making of this drawing)

[cirixwqnd]

‘ 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ’ ✧ byler

read it on ao3 | masterlist | navigation

summary ; mike sees the painting in will’s backpack and his curiosity got the best of him. why would will even pack the painting anyway? was this girl really that special that he had to keep this paper fully intact and protected? (I am not very good at descriptions lol)

pairing ; will byers/mike wheeler

word count ; 3.4k

additional tags ; third person pov, but we mostly lean to mike’s pov, late at night confessions, first (sudden) kiss, slight internalised homophobia, has way too many heartstopper references i’m sorry lol, purposely cliché

a/n ; most of the italicized text and the ones between the ‘’ (i have no idea what those are called) are his thoughts btw!!

It was late at night and all four of the boys have decided that they need a rest or take a break at least, so they sleep in the van. Jonathan and Argyle are sleeping at the front seats while Mike and Will are at the back.

It wasn’t exactly as comfortable to sleep as it was on a bed but considering how things are going right now, they’d rather not complain.

They took turns staying up as they thought one of them keeping an eye out would be a good idea, in case they were attacked or some car was suddenly headed towards them.

Though Jonathan insisted on just Argyle and him to stay up so Will & Mike would get enough sleep, they protested (mostly will) and he didn’t want to argue because of how tired he was.

It’s Mike’s turn after Jonathan. He was doing whatever they told him to do. Look out the windows, but keep your head low, check the back, both sides, etc.

Then suddenly, a bag fell on his knee. It was a black backpack.

It wasn’t his.. so who’s was it? Will’s probably, he thought. Mike places the bag back to where it was but it was then he noticed a roll of paper. It looked familiar.. but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Great. Uh, what’s that?” he asked curiously. Was it a gift for him?

Will hesitated, thinking of something to say.

“Um, it’s nothing. Just this painting I’ve been working on.”

‘Oh. It’s that painting. The painting for the girl he likes. Since when did Will even start to have feelings for girls?’ Mike thought. Did he suddenly change his view on them and he didn’t even bother to tell him?

He stares at the painting blankly, as if it meant nothing to him or he was annoyed by it.

“Cool.” he says, looking at an unfamiliar guy with long dark hair afterwards.

It was that damn painting again. Why would Will even pack the painting? Was she really that special that he had to keep this paper fully intact and protected? Why would he even make one for her? And who was this girl anyway? Was it Angela? Mike had so many questions in his head that he desperately needed answers to.

But.. he just decides to look away, hoping to forget about the painting that bothered him oh, so much. Then he hears his friend shifting in his sleep, he turns around to see Will was now facing away from him.. and away from the bag.

Mike thinks about it for a second, wanting to respect Will’s privacy but also kind of offended that he didn’t even tell him that he had feelings for someone.

They are best friends after all.

No, wait, were best friends.

Now, they’re just.. friends. They’ve grown apart. Even before Will moved away, their relationship was growing distant by the minute. He wished they were back to how it was back then. Closer than ever, and nothing getting in the way.

But everything was different now. Now Mike has a girlfriend, and Will likes someone else. Someone that’s not him. He should be happy right? Happy that his friend is finally getting out there, meeting new people and having new friends.

But somehow, he isn’t. He feels jealous.. and angry. Not at Will, but at himself. If he just paid more attention to him, maybe they would get closer, maybe they could be best friends again, or.. something more..?

“No,” he muttered. ‘Don’t be stupid. Will isn’t like me — he’s not one of those people.. he’s not gay, right? If he was, he would’ve told me by now.’

Mike closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, and out, then opens them again.

Fuck it! It’s not like he would even notice it got unrolled. Plus, he could always just say Jonathan or Argyle did it, not him.

He turns his head back towards the bag and carefully unzips it, worried that he might wake someone up. When there was enough space, he gently took the roll, glancing at Will every now and then to make sure he didn’t switch positions.

Ahah! Now he has the painting. He faced the window so he could perfectly see it under the moonlight.

Mike then realises that Will hadn’t made a drawing for him in years. He remembers receiving them on his birthday.

Every year Will would draw him, his D&D character or a memory they shared together and it would be one of the greatest gifts he’d ever gotten. Probably even the best.

Don’t get him wrong, toys are great and all, he loved it when Dustin and Lucas gave him a lego set or a new Star Wars figurine but Will’s just felt different. Maybe it’s because he made it, himself? Mike doesn’t even know.

He shakes his head, trying to focus on the painting, right now, in front of him. ‘Okay, I’m gonna stop stalling and actually open it.’ he says to himself.

Mike then starts a countdown in his head.

‘Three,’ he pulls the string up from the roll.

‘Two,’ he places it beside him.

‘One.’ he grips the paper.

He then unrolls it, expecting to see Angela or some girl beside Will. Or maybe a portrait of someone twirling their hair.. but it was neither of those things.

It was a painting of him and Will. The day they met. They’re on the swings, together. He rubbed his eyes, surely his vision was just messing with him?

They weren’t.

Was this.. a gift for him? But El said it was for a girl. Maybe the person beside Will is a girl.. they both just shared the same hairstyle and colour?

No.. it was wearing the same exact outfit he wore years ago. It was him.

There was a big tree on the side, clouds above, some grass at the bottom and the swings in the centre of it all. Both their faces were looking at each other, filled with nothing but pure joy.

He remembers it perfectly, it was one of the few memories he could and would never forget. How could he? It was a beautiful moment.

“Wow..” he whispers, very shocked at how wonderfully made it was. Oh, how he wished he could relive that memory. Mike wishes he could stare at it for hours and not get caught but he couldn’t; no one even knows that he’s seen it.

He takes a deep breathe and begins to roll it back when—

“You weren’t supposed to see that..” A voice spoke in the dark, startling Mike and making him jump.

It was Will, he’s awake. How did Mike not notice? He must be too busy observing the painting..

“Not until I give it to you anyway.” Will added.

Mike closes the painting and puts the string back on.

“Sorry, I was curious..” he admits.

He hands the paper back to Will, thinking he was upset.. he surprisingly wasn’t.

Will stares at him, taking it. “No, I.. I should’ve just handed it to you at the airport. But you just seemed out of it.”

“Out of it?” Mike asked.

His friend sighs, thinking of a response.

“I-I don’t know, you.. you seemed like you didn’t care at all. I thought it was because you didn’t wanna see me, that you only wanted to talk to El and spend time with her — well, you probably did.” Will stares at him with what seemed like a sad look on his face.

Mike furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Now I was just waiting.. waiting for the perfect time to give it to you but it looks like you’ve already seen it. There goes the surprise, I guess.” He lets out a nervous laugh, moving closer to his bag and putting the painting back inside.

Mike opens his mouth, thinking of something to say to make him feel better.

“Listen, I.. it wasn’t because I didn’t care about you.. I did want to see you, Will. I did! El, she told me that you were painting something, for a girl. And I guess I just got a little jealous.. you know?”

Mike glances up at Will only to see his eyes had grown wider along with a confused look on his face. He then realises what he had said, ‘Jealous.’

“Um, no wait, I meant— I got—”

“A girl? What girl? Weren’t you the one to tell me I didn’t like them?” Will raises his eyebrow, interrupting him.

Mike swallowed, remembering what he had said a while back, still regretting it. “Yeah, but that was months ago and.. El said that you were acting weird — you still are by the way.”

His friend scoffed, but he laughed softly.

“She thought you had a crush.” He added.

Will sighs once more, “Well, she’s not way off..”

His smile dropped, now curious as to what Will meant. “Not way off?”

“Even after all these years you still have a habit of repeating words, have you ever noticed?”

Mike ignored it, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay, well.. uh, how do I say this?” He stares at Jonathan and Argyle at the front of the van, like he was.. making sure they weren’t awake.

“I- um, are they asleep?”

Mike, who's still confused, glances at them.

“They should be.”

He turns back to Will, noticing his worried look.

“Hey.. are you okay?” Mike whispers, lightly brushing his fingers against Will’s. That seemed to grab his attention.

“Y-Yeah, yeah..”

“How about we talk outside and get some air? We won’t wake them up that way.” He offers, glancing at the full moon outside.

Will hesitates, but nodded ‘yes’ afterwards. Mike carefully slides the van door open, lending him a hand to hold as he gets down.

“Thanks..” His friend says awkwardly.

Mike looked around for a thing they could sit on, something that wasn’t too uncomfortable. He then spots a huge rock not too far from the van and points to it.

“There. We can go there.”

Once the two of them reached the rock, Mike jumped up to sit (it was a tall one). He stares down at Will and held out his hand for him to reach. It was just now he noticed how soft his friend’s hand is.

How Will could paint and draw yet manage to keep his hands like that is one of the mysteries Mike, himself, still can’t figure out.

Will took his hand, jumping up to sit next to him. He then adjusts his sleeve — he always fidgets with his clothes when he’s nervous or thinking and this worries Mike. What was he gonna say?

“Could you promise me something?” Will asked, without looking at the boy beside him.

Mike was now puzzled (again), more than ever. What was he gonna say that was so bad it would require a promise? “Yeah man. What is it?”

“Could you promise me that no matter what happens, we’re still friends? That you won’t think I’m different after this? But if you don’t want to talk to me ever again, it’s fine, I totally get it.”

He was taken aback. Nothing could ever make him stop being friends with Will, nothing. “Will, of course we’ll still be friends. We’ll still be best friends. Crazy together, right?”

Will smiles fondly at the memory coming back to him. “I don’t think you’ll think that when I say it to you.” the happiness on his face quickly disappears.

Silence filled the air around them. The two of them clueless as to what to say next.

Will speaks, “What you said about El.. she’s, uh, well, not wrong..” his hand shaking on his knee.

“You.. you have a crush?”

“Well, I—I mean..” He stutters, not even knowing if he should say it or not.

“I don’t even know if it’s a crush anymore, if I’m being honest. I really like this person, I have been for the longest time. And I’ve been giving them the most obvious hints, like making them a painting but.. they’re so oblivious. Now it looks like it’s too late, they already like someone else, a-and I don’t understand if they’re stupid, angry or purposely ignoring me — I-I don’t know but.. I really like them. Even they don’t like me that way, it’s fine.. but they’re really special to me and I’ll always be there for them, even if they’re not there for me.”

Mike’s heart drops. El turns out to be right all along. Who was he kidding? Will’s not like him, he doesn’t think of him that way. There’s no way he does.

“Oh wow.. um, she sounds really, really cool.” His eyes stinging with tears but he refused to let them out. Not here, not now, and definitely not in front of Will. “W-What does she look like?”

“You’re just gonna assume they’re a she?”

He turns to face Will, one of his eyebrows raised.

‘She—they— what? Did he say ‘they’? How did I not notice? Does he—Is he— is it a boy..?’ Mike’s head was racing with thoughts. It was then he saw that there were tears falling from his friend’s eyes. They were both crying.

“Are they.. are they not a girl?”

“Yeah—I mean, no.. h-he’s not..” he managed to say through his shaky breath.

It took some time for Mike to get through his trail of thoughts.. he wasn’t even sure if he heard Will correctly. He chews his lip, unsure of what to do, say.. or ask.

“You probably think I’m disgusting now, do you? It’s okay, Mike.. I completely understand. I don’t even know why I’m like this — like a mistake. I really wish I wasn’t but I just.. I don’t know.”

“No.” Mike replies sternly. “Listen to me Will, you’re not disgusting, okay? And you’re not a mistake. I don’t know where you got that from but you’re wrong. We—we just can’t help who we like. It just happens, i-it’s not a choice and we can’t control it, you know?”

His friend finally turns to him, rubbing his nose. “Yeah.. you’re right. That’s probably the most smartest thing you’ve ever said in your 14 years of life,”

“Hey! I’m gonna turn 15 in a few days.”

Will lets out a teary laugh. “Then 15 years of life then, which is worse!”

Mike beams softly, noticing how.. great — or cute Will looks. The moonlight perfectly highlighted his features, his smile, and those dark green eyes he could get lost in forever.

No. Stay focused, Mike. This is not the time to get distracted.

“So.. what’s he like? Is he kind?”

Will sighs. “He is, he actually is. I.. I actually don’t know what went wrong between us or what I did wrong but I hope he’s happy. I just wished he didn’t.. push me away. My friendship with him is more important than my feelings but even that is falling apart. We don’t even see each other anymore. I have no idea what to do..”

He looks down, who is this person and why would he even think of pushing Will away? He’s the kindest, most talented and amazing person ever.. there would be no reason to. “You can try talking to him.”

“That’s the thing, I have, on multiple occasions. But guess what? He pushed me away, again. I wished he called more, or just checked up on me. A letter or two would’ve been fine but I got nothing.. absolutely nothing.” Will says, wiping the tears away from his face.

Mike frowns, something inside him aches with guilt. He hates seeing Will cry. Mike remembers taking him home or hugging him when he’d get those visions from the upside down years ago. He wished he could do the same now but he can’t.

Well, there is one thing he can do right now, he can try to comfort Will.

He hesitates for a moment, deciding whether or not it was even a good idea. Mike brushes his thoughts away and wraps his arms around him.

Will sniffles and gives in, crying on Mike’s shoulder as his shaky palms clung onto him.

Mike takes a deep breath and softens his voice.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, Will. It’s gonna be okay. Of course he I wanted to talk to you. H-He probably I was just too scared that you don’t feel that way about him me.. that he I might just embarrass himself myself by telling you. He’s I’m just so lost now that you we don’t see each other anymore.”

His chest then starts to feel tight; he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold his tears back this time.

“A-And he probably doesn’t I don’t know when or how to tell you — he probably doesn’t I don’t even know if he I should be liking you this way. Maybe that’s why he’s I’ve been ignoring you.. because maybe.. just maybe, he’ll I’ll stop having these stupid feelings. But he does I do care about you, Will. I do He does. More than you know.”

Will slowly lets go and faces Mike.

“You really think so?” He smiles weakly, a tear falling from his eye.

“Yeah.. yeah, I really do.”

He chuckles, but it wasn’t just any chuckle — it was a genuine one, like he was actually happy.

Mike admires him, glancing between his two green eyes, thankful that he at least cheered his friend up a bit. Then, without any hesitation or even thinking, he cups Will’s face and leans in to kiss him.

Will’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened.

All Mike could think of was how right this felt, how long he’d been wanting to do this, how soft Will’s lips are. He never really believed it when people on TV said kissing someone you liked so much for the first time would feel like time had stopped and you’d feel butterflies in your stomach.. but now he definitely does.

Well, he did kind of feel that way when he first kissed El but there was one exception.. it didn’t feel right. Sure, he felt a bit happy and flustered when it happened but this kiss with Will was somehow different. It didn’t matter why, it just was.

He slowly pulls away, his eyes meeting the ones he was so lost in just a few moments ago. He realises what he had just done.

“Oh, s-shit. Will, I’m—I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking I—”

His words are cut off by Will closing the air between them.

He drops whatever he was thinking and just leans into it. Afterall, this wasn’t something he experiences everyday so it’s better to enjoy it while it lasts, you know?

Mike wipes the almost-dry tears on Will’s cheeks as Will gripped onto the fabric of Mike’s shirt.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before both of the boys pulled away, looking in opposite directions.

Nothing but the sound of wind faintly swirling around them could be heard.

Still not daring to face each other, Will smirks and blushes. His hand moves to find another to hold.

Mike, however.. his entire face was red, his eyes wide open, still trying to process what just happened.

‘Did.. we.. just… KISS!?’ as childish as his thoughts were, he didn’t care. He just couldn’t believe it.

‘Will likes me too? Was I the one he was talking about? How long has he liked me? Why didn’t I notice? How didn’t I notice?’

He sheepishly turns back to Will, who was still facing the other way. He sees his hand between them just laying there.. like it was waiting to be held or something. Mike scoffs, and takes it, putting it on top of his.

Will finally looks at him with a soft smile on his face. He intertwined their fingers, reciprocating Mike’s feelings.

“Soo,” Mike scratches his head. “Was I.. the one you were talking about?”

The brown-haired boy giggles.

“Mike, oh my god.. sometimes your total obliviousness just blows my mind. Of course, I was talking about you. I even said that I made ‘them’ a painting and you just saw mine minutes ago!”

“Ohh…” Mike laughs and covers his face in embarrassment. “I’m so stupid!”

Will smiles fondly. “I’m so glad you finally admitted it.”

“Hey! At least I’m not the one crushing on a stupid person.” They both laughed.

Mike gently squeezed his hand, still overwhelmed by the fact that his ‘stupid feelings’ were reciprocated after all.

“I love your painting by the way.”

“Yeah?” Will’s thumb slowly caresses Mike’s hand.

“Yeah. You’re gonna have to make me another one when all this is over.”

He chuckles. “Oh? So the kiss was just a secret ploy for you to get another gift from me to hang up your basement wall?”

“Maybe..?” Mike smirks jokingly.

“Wow.. so sneaky, Michael.”

a/n ; thank you for reading! I’m such a sucker for first kiss one-shots, and this is the third one I’ve written. also the second byler fic I’ve published (on ao3)! i mostly listened to the heartstopper soundtrack while writing this. and yes the title is a song from there. 🤧

okay bye, I hope you have a wonderful day! :D

[sea040561]

Any recommendations for the following fics:

Joseph Quinn/Jamie Campbell Bower

JQ/reader

JCB/reader

JCB/JQ/reader

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

[hellisharchive]

Heyoooo! You probably know me from messaging you but I wanted to ask if you could write a Vox x Fem!reader where reader just takes care of a really wasted but infatuated Vox?

My Queen

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▏C/TW! ▬ 18+, drunk Vox, jealous reader, fluff fluff fluff, bathing

▏C/TW! ▬ Literally wrote this at 2 am and got done at 3 am, so not beta read <3 TYSM for the request! I hope you enjoy it!. AGAIN HOW THE FUCK DID I ACCIDENTLY POST THIS THIS WAS A DRAFT. I dont like how this turned out tbh

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You and Vox were close, but you wouldn't dare say that you two were dating. You did have a small crush on him and was scared that confessing would ruin your fiendship. Little did you know he also had a crush on you as well, it was just unfortunate he was letting his business and brand take importance over his personal life. You were an honorary Vee and his best friend. Sure, Velvette and Valentino were his friends too, but you always got jealous as you watched Val and Vox act in such a romantic way with each other all the time. You always suspected that they were a thing, and even if they didn't have a label, you respected it. So, you always kept your feelings hidden deep down

. But you did need a break, it got so tiring having to watch and hear them act all cute and making sexual advances from the time to time. You've been ignoring Vox for at least two weeks, probably not the best choice but your emotions got the better of you. But tonight, you decided to get out of the tower and have some fun. You went to a pretty well known nightclub- not owned by Vox, a rare occurrence- to let off some steam. Your goal was to get laid by the end of the night with a convenientially attractive stranger, but life doesn't always work out as you want.

Yet, when Vel called you as you were about to get on the dancefloor with a hot bull, you dropped everything to take care of the television that was drowning his sorrows in alcohol. According to her, he kept talking about how he wished he could tell you something and how beautiful you were. You mulled over it as you walked back through the tower in your fancy nightclub dress just an hour earlier. While on your way there, you came across Velvette who looked very pissed off and scrolling through phone in the main living area of the personal living quarters. When she saw you, she flipped you off and rolled your eyes.

"Fucking finally! Vox has been throwing a hissy fit waiting for his queen to come and shut him up. Fuck you for taking so long, he's called me twenty fucking times asking where you were bevause he forgot he changed your contact info!" That was all she said before growling and walking away, signalling that you were going to handle this yourself like normal. You never let what Vel says get to you, that's just how she normally is. But he changed your contact info? What to? You've calmed down a drunken Vox many times before, but this time seemed bad.

"Vox?" You knock and call out before opening his door to find a very wasted man laying on his couch, hiccuping and looking incredibly sad. He was slumped over with a wine bottle in his hand, no wine glass, and the red liquid was spilled all over himself. Wine? Really? He got drunk on wine out of his entire collection? He's usually a fun drunk, cracking jokes and overall being the most funny in the room from the out of pocket shit he says. So seeing him so down makes you feel guilty for ignoring him. But as soon as he looked at you, his face lit up and a smile immediately popped up. He dropped the glass and stood up, trying to rush up to you. However, because he was so inebriated, he started to stumble, which caused you to rush up and catch him from his shoulders.

"My Queen! Where did you go? I missed you my sweet!" The comment about Vel calling you his "queen" you just passed off as Vel being Vel, but now he was calling that you too? Maybe playing into this fantasy would be best, drunk people are never rational and don't know what they're even saying.

"Well my king, I had a very important meeting with another kingdom to attend to. But you requested my presence immediately!" You spoke matter-of-fact as you navigated him to the bathroom, it was hard already with him being unable to properly walk, but he also kept staring at you, so he stepped over his own feet countless times.

"Hehehe...I like when you call me that. YOUR king. I'm your king! How lucky am I?" He giggled and that made your heart beat faster. How lucky was he? What was he talking about? Maybe this was just his drunk self talking, you knew he didn't feel that way, he absolutely had a thing for Val, not you. Gulping, you finally manage to drag him to the bathroom where you sat him on the toilet. He would be so sticky with all that wine that soaked through his clothes, so you were going to bathe him. Sure, getting him in and out his going to be a challenge, but you still cared for this man a lot and wanted the best for him.

"I'm getting you your pjs, do not move ok?" You started to leave the bathroom when he whined loudly, making a swipe for your wrist but missed as he looked at you with puppy eyes. Due to his television screen head, his facial expressions can get extremely animated, unlike normal sinners. His eyes basically took up his entire screen, only leaving a little bit of space for a pout. The sight made your heart ache.

"Don't leave again my lovely queen! I need to tell you something!" Sighing, you gave him a soft smile and walked back up to him. Picking up his hand, you put your other hand on top of his and gave him the most softest smile you muster..

"It is bedtime, my king, you must be bathed before heading to our bed. You can tell me once we retire" Our bed. Saying it made your heart do flips.

"Oookkk my beautiful queen! Hehehe you're so pretty..." He had a dopey smile as you walked away, heart hammering so loud it should have been echoing in the room. He thought you were pretty? Fuck- why does he made you feel this way? You knew that look too, it was a look of complete love. He certainly couldn't love you though, that has to be impossible. He was with Val, he had to be. Going on autopilot, you gather up his favorite pyjamas and mentally prepare yourself for going back into the flames. When you get back, he was still sitting on the toilet, giggling and staring ahead as he was talking to himself about how in love with him he was.

What?

He was drunk, he was drunk, he was drunk- why couldn't you even entertain the idea of him returning your feelings? Why was it so hard to accept that fact? Taking a deep breath, you walk into the room and he lights up again.

"My queen! Are thou ready to bathe me? You got my favorite pjs! And you have an amazing ass! There's a reason why I married you!" Freezing once again, you ignoring his comment about your ass in luei of the last thing he said. Married...you? Did Vox think you two married each other? The thought made you shiver and face warm with how amazing that sounded. Being officially tied to him forever, waking up with him together, and getting to love him forever. Standing up after finishing setting the dials to the right temperature, you looked at him and now needed to know more.

"And why else did you marry me my dear?" Battting your eyelashes with the most innocent face you could gather, you started to stip him of his clothes. You've seen him naked a handful of times which always made you incredibly flustered, but undressing him? It made you nervous, especially with how he's acting towards you.

"You're the beeeeest, like, THE best! You're so pretty and gorgeous and have SUCH a hot bod! But you're so so sweet and amazing and help me with everything!" Did he...did he actually love you? Was whatever he was doing with Val was nothing? Shakily manging to get him completely undressed, you stood him up to maneuver him into the large tub. Not trusting yourself to say anything more, you gently lay him down in the perfectly warm water and start lathering him up. You also never bathed him before, so your nerves were going to overdrive. He took your silence and silenced himself too, maybe he somehow knew you were really anxious right now. Taking great care in not getting water on his head, you see as his face turned from a happy one, to a somber one.

The rest of the process of getting him out, drying him off, changing into his pjs, and moving him to his bed was deadly quiet. You felt like you would be breaking some unsaid rule. Tucking him into bed, you left a glass of water and painkillers on his nightstand, turning off the big light and turning on the lamp. Sitting down next to his curled up body, you rubbed his back and felt conflicted. He's drunk as balls. He probably won't remember any of this. Getting up and saying goodnight, he yells for you one last time.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong but I'm sorry. Is it Val? We aren't anything serious. I was too scared to tell you because you're so beautiful and I didn't want you to leave me. I love you" Vox looked down at his lap with a sullen expression. Heart hurting for the countless time today, you gave him a kiss on his screen and turned away with a smile

"Tell me when you're sober"

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Cramps | D.M

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Request: Yes

w/c: 1.1K

You groaned once more as you rolled over in bed, grabbing hold of your covers and bringing them above your head to try and muffle the sound of your roommates talking. On most days, you’d be right there alongside them, complaining about your most recent potions assignment  and gossipping about who is taking who to the upcoming Yule ball. But today, all you wanted to do was lay in bed, curl up in a ball, and die; any means of escape necessary to help ease the pain that was going on in your uterus.

It was already noon, and you were still in bed. You had no plans on leaving soon, even if it meant sacrificing your weekend trip to Hogsmeade that you had been planning for the past few weeks. Your friends only giving you looks of sympathy, as they started grabbing hold of all their things, getting ready to leave for the day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” One of the girls asked you, as the group started heading for the door.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you squeak out, “I don’t think it’s going to get any better any time soon. Can you just tell Draco I’m not going?” 

They give you a small nod as they close the door behind them. The room finally silent after a full morning of chatter, at last you could take a nap. 

You bury yourself deeper into your sheets as you try and find a more comfortable position. The warmth of the blankets hugging your body as you found yourself drifting further and further into sleep. Nothing could disturb you now.

Nothing except for Draco that is.

The door flung open, a loud bang ricocheting off the walls, as he rushed over to your side. A worried look plastered on his face as he went to put his palm on your forehead. A look of confusion now taking over once he realized you weren’t actually ill. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he asked, going in to give you a kiss on the cheek, “the girls told me that you were sick so I decided to stay behind as well. But you don’t seem ill.” 

You didn’t know whether to be angry at him for disturbing you, or appreciative of the fact that he cared about your well-being. You sat yourself up from the bed, a cramp hitting you as you did so, causing you to let out a little yelp in pain and clutch your stomach. Draco gave you a look of sympathy as he realized what was wrong.

“I’m not sick Draco,” you let him know, “just on my period.” 

He let out a small hum and gave you a gentle kiss on the nose. It was days like these that you were thankful for the blonde, mean-eyed, Slytherin boy that you were able to call your boyfriend. It was no surprise to you as to why so many people saw Draco as cold, you weren’t a stranger to his rude remarks and cold glances, but thankfully throughout your years at Hogwarts, Draco and you managed to develop a strong and unbreakable bond. One that gave him the confidence to show you this soft side of him, and for this you were grateful.

So, by routine, the boy got up from your side and started heading out the door. 

“I’ll be back with your tea and a pumpkin pastry.” He put his hand to the knob and started stepping out.

“Wait!” You interrupted. He turned around and gave you a confused look. It became habitual for him to get you tea and sweets whenever you were sick or during your period, and usually you were okay with him leaving you for just a few minutes.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, just, for the tea,” you hid a shy smile in midst of his concerned gaze, “just remember to add honey and tw–”

“Two sugarcubes, but not the ones from the first cabinet, the ones hidden behind the ugly flower vase near the window.” He finished your sentence. It was such a small and silly thing to be flustered about, especially since it is something that happens so often, but right now, all you could think about was the fact that he was in your room taking care of you and that he remembered how you like your tea. 

“I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t remember. I’ll be back soon, my sweet.” He came back up next to you and gave you a kiss, turning around and then finally exiting the room.

—-

Twenty minutes later your boyfriend finally returned. In his hands your tea, some sweets, and one of his sweaters. He gave you a flashy grin as he came to your side, placing the things down on your bedside table. 

“Drink this,” he handed you the tea, “It will make you feel better.” 

You grab hold of the small cup and start drinking it. Groaning and trying to resist the urge to curl up into a fetal position every few moments from the constant cramping. “Thank you Dray, but I don’t think the pain is going to go away soon.” 

The boy took the now empty cup and set it aside. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear as he went to lay down next to you. Peppering your face with kisses as you laughed in between, almost forgetting about the ache. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You let out sweetly, bringing yourself close to him to try and capture some of his warmth. He smelt of mint and mahogany, a scent that you knew all too well. The boy grabbed the sweater from your bedside and handed it to you, watching as you put it over your tank top. He grabbed hold of your hands and started rolling up the sleeves.

“Then,” he finally finished rolling the sleeves and gave you a small kiss, “I guess I will stay with you until you feel better.” 

“Even if it’s for the rest of the week?” You asked him, taking notice of how soft his gaze has become. 

He closed the small remaining space between you. Both of your bodies glued together as he hummed your favorite song into your ear. Forgetting about your missed Hogsmeade trip, as well as the Pumpkin Pastries that were now going cold on your bedside, he responded,

“Especially if it means the rest of the week.” 

And you didn’t doubt his words for a second.

✧˖*°࿐

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here!

[ferrstappen]

the first one l Charles Leclerc imagine

a/n: so, I just KNOW Charles is a girl dad. I know three is his sweet spot, but idk if the boy would be the middle child or the youngest. what do you think? also, I'm working on requests and the collection pls trust me, but I'm a law student trying to hold my life together and not having a nervous breakdown every day &lt;3

this first piece of dad!Charles is from this request &lt;3

pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader.

genre: dad!Charles, fluff.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, not proofread bc I don't have time for that shit.

summary: Charles tries to prepare to be the best dad for his daughter, even if she's just two days old.

It wasn't fun being heavily pregnant.

Yes, the illusion and excitement of a baby coming to complete your family was an emotion neither you nor Charles had the proper words to explain. Friends and even strangers affirmed it was going to be the most magical moment of your life, that you wouldn't even be able to imagine life before your daughter.

But that wasn't relevant now, it was the furthest thing on your mind, sleep being the only thing remotely important at the moment, and it didn't seem to come as a faint light was coming from the opposite side of the bed.

Charles was shirtless, probably cold while slightly propped on some pillows, reading something on his Kindle, a small frown noticeable between his brows. He clearly was very concentrated on whatever he was reading, the only thing that made his attention shift was the light groan you let out. Of course Charles' instantly put his attention on you, the muscles on his neck showing with the fast movement.

"What happened? Are you okay?" He asked you, his eyes fixed on your figure, very carefully placing his hand on your swollen belly.

"No, I'm not okay because I can't sleep and I have to sleep since your daughter is sucking every bit of energy and space left on my body, and to make matters worse, the light of your kindle makes it impossible to sleep," You said with a pettish tone, but Charles wasn't fazed, after almost nine months he was used to the mood swings. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm being such a bitch I'm sorry," and before you could stop, tears started streaming down your face, and that gained a reaction from Charles.

"No no no no, chérie. It's okay, it's just the hormones, it's fine," He carefully rubbed your swollen belly, feeling how the baby moved relentlessly. "Why do you move when mama is trying to sleep, mignonne?" Charles asked his unborn daughter, knowing with certainty she was listening to him.

"Because she's your daughter, why else?" You answered and he laughed, playfully rolling his eyes. "What are you reading in there, anyways?" This time you placed your hand on his hair, knowing Charles loved the little touches of affection.

He sheepishly smiled, "It's this book I found about pregnancy and the first weeks of the baby," he answered with a quiet tone, likely waiting for you to mock him.

Instead, fresh tears started streaming down your face, again. Sending Charles into a panic, again. "No no no no, chérie!"

✨✨✨✨

The apartment looked like a mess, the baby had arrived just two days earlier and didn't have time to even think about cleaning the extremely spacious penthouse overlooking the ocean, only focused on the little lilac bundle sleeping on her crib.

Since you left the hospital in the morning, where you asked for privacy and to not have any visitors, friends were constantly texting if now was a good time to visit you and the adorable newborn. You could've sworn every person in Monaco had made their way inside your family home.

First it was Carmen and George, with Alex and Lily, with a gorgeous bouquet of lilies for you, and carrying a large Zara kids bag with multiple cashmere onesies and clothes that would probably last a couple of weeks since, as Charles read on his book, babies grow up "very fast". Charles got a pat on the back.

Then followed Fred, with a huge basquet for both you and Charles, courtesy of the entire Ferrari team, and lots of small Ferrari merchandise.

Fred wasn't even out the door when Carlos and Isa quietly made their way inside, now with a bouquet of pink roses and a gorgeous and timeless Louis Vuitton baby blanket. Again, Charles received a pat on the back from Carlos as you carefully placed your daughter on Isa’s arms.

Charles had the biggest dark circles you’d ever seen under his eyes, and you probably looked worse, dealing with the recovery of your own body after giving birth. Right when you thought you could take a nap, Max, Lando, Kelly and Penelope arrived.

Of course they tried to make a statement, with multiple balloons, Gucci and Burberry bags for the baby. Of course Max was a natural holding her, cautiously kneeling for Penelope to see her. Lando nervously laughed and the only thing he was able to say was "she's so tiny", telling you he'd hold her when she was a little bigger.

It was almost 3 PM when Charles forced you to lay down, reminding you of the stages of healing after giving birth as he read in the book. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep, waking up every ten minutes because, apparently, mother instincts didn't take very long to kick in. That's why you immediately woke up when you heard low voices, quickly recognizing the voices of your in-laws. Carefully getting up and trying to look presentable, you walked towards the nursery.

No one noticed you, both Arthur and Lorenzo enthralled by their niece while Pascale held her, whispering sweet nothings in French as her granddaughter placed her tiny hand around Pascale's thumb.

Then, Charles demeanor changed.

You could see it as soon as Pascale placed the baby in Arthur's arms. His back tensed and he stood straighter, instantly moving closer towards his younger brother.

"Arthur, you have to hold her head," Charles told off his brother, carefully placing Arthur's hand on the baby's head.

He still was standing closely and worried, hand on his chin while staring at his brother. "No, Arthur don't move your arm like that," Again, he fixed his brother's arm. "No, Arthur fix your stance, you need to hold her still," His breathing was getting faster and then he couldn't take it anymore.

Arthur was perfectly holding her, but Charles simply couldn't bare with the fact of his brother making a microscopic wrong move and something happening to his daughter, his mignonne, é carina.

"No, give her to me, you're doing everything wrong." Charles carefully took his daughter off Arthur's arms.

Ignoring Arthur's shocked face and Pascale's amused expression, everyone noticed how the baby nuzzled in her papa's arms, instantly yawning and moving her hands as if she was trying to reach him; Charles instantly relaxed, feeling her against his chest and knowing she was okay because she was with him.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I think he's kind of overprotective," You said entering the room. Pascale immediately approached you, asking how you were feeling and how much pain you were in.

"Poor her, honestly. She's doomed to have Charles as her shadow forever, she won't be able to go to school or anything!" Lorenzo chimed in, making everyone laugh, except for Charles of course.

"You haven't told us her name! We've been calling her mini (Y/N)," Arthur asked, admiring his niece from afar.

The only reason Charles lifted his gaze was to find your eyes, which you took as the cue to take your place next to your family, resting your head on Charles' shoulder.

"Josephine. We are still thinking about the second, we're seeing if Jules fits," You announced, Charles giving a bright smile to his family.

"I'm thinking of Josephine Sofia Jules Gia Leclerc," Charles said. Everyone in the room looked at each other with curiosity.

"She is not having four names, Charles!" The answer came quickly from you, the tone revealing this wasn't the first time it was discussed.

"Okay then, three?"

Josephine, that's what's clear.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?

same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?

oh im curious yeahhhhh

ateez as mafia members pt 2

original post here

pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia

genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest

length: 2.1k

c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited

a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate

mingi

it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg

ccg as in cute coat guy

because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little

mingi most definitely notices your absence

but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing

not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"

after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is

("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")

mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way

at least...when it comes to things concerning you

after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again

his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop

originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him

...whenever he shows up you suppose

but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat

so you leave it as it is

in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times

you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace

but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of

you wonder if he made it back safely that night

you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight

you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening

"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause

it’s ccg

who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words

“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly

“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”

you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes

then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”

“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you

“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago

his leather coat

that you are currently wearing

you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it

your fingers get caught up in the sleeves

but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms

mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands

he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his

“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest

he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”

there is a third reason that he does not say

that he just wanted to see you

“i’m okay now,” you reassure him

because he’s back now and he’s safe

he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”

you tell him then ask him for his

“mingi”

“mingi,” you repeat

he repeats your name in return

“mingi,” you say yet again

“y/n”

you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation

“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”

and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do

closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue

but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever

even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left

and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other

you are unsure how long you two talk for

but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon

“goodnight, mingi”

mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it

he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand

and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door

except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”

a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time

but you also feel your stomach flutter

because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him

tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways

not to say that you aren’t either

“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken

and then he leaves

but just mere seconds later you spot it

his leather coat

still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier

"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it

mingi is only a few feet away

he could very easily turn around and take it from you

but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again

you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face

because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while

even after next time

wooyoung

it feels like deja vu

a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie

admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago

but still

these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces

your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week

you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now

and he always walks you home after your shift

but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it

"you usually work the night shift here?"

a voice causes your eyes to snap up

the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice

"...yeah," you answer

you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life

and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store

you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time

because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?

you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through

you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips

you just need to hold out until he gets here

wooyoung will keep you safe

wooyoung will-

"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"

wooyoung bursts through the door

"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes

you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?" 

"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both

wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"

he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store

quite unsuccessfully, you must add

"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells

"what the fuck is going on?" you demand

"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"

"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"

"stop swearing you fucktards!"

one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace

"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"

"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice

these mafia men are surprisingly kind

and normal

except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal

"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know

they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"

you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter

wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture

"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head

"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"

"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs

except with the height difference, it's more like his hips

it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness

"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"

he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes

"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"

you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors

"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else

"shut up, san!"

yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"

and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"

you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics

"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"

everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground

the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store

and then you hear a distant wail

"i didn't get my gummy worms!"

you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong

and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past

counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you

again

[lemon-boy-stan]

reminder‼️‼️ I know these are still in my inbox (and some are in my drafts) I promise im going to write them 😫😫 im just going through some stuff 🙏🙏

[roseychains]

could you maybe do relationship/nsfw headcanons for gojo and nanami. Please

Relationship and nsfw h/c for Gojo and Nanami ~

A/n: thanks for the request! This was pretty fun writing, I enjoyed it a lot and kinda went crazy ;3

C/w: fluff, sillyness. As for nsfw, written by a minor!

Sfw

Gojo

Major gift giver!! It’s his love language and he certainly has the money to do so. If he sees something that reminds him of you, he’ll buy it for you. If he thinks you’ll like it, he buys it for you. If he thinks it’s a cool thing, he’ll buy it to show you

Sooo touchy. He’s clingy and cuddly. He always has his hands on you. Holding yours, snaked around your waist, hip, around your neck, on your thigh, it doesn’t matter. He needs to hold you. When he gets home from particularly draining missions, he just wants to wrap his arms around you and sleep

Speaking of sleep, he’s really sleepy. And snores loud as fuck, almost monstrously so. That’s only for day naps, at night, he won’t let himself sleep before you are asleep

He sometimes has bad dreams, dreams where something happens to you and will wake up and pull you closer. He’s gentle enough to not wake you up but holding you is a comfort to him

Loves to take you shopping and play dress up with you. He will pick out clothes with you then send you to the changing room, and have you walk out real quick to show him how you look

He loves showering together, and he loves washing your hair for you and vice versa

You play games together, and he rages. Y’all definitely have some shared concels for playing things together, and he will throw a fit when he loses

He likes helping you cook. He will get things out for you, cut veggies and wash the dishes while you run the kitchen

But sometimes he cooks for you, doing it all in an apron that says “kiss the chef” or something cheesy

Buys you the most expensive jewelry, and urges you to wear it anytime you go out

Hugs from behind!! Lots of sneaky teasing touches. Pinches you playfully. Slaps ur ass then runs knowing your about to turn around and get his 10x harder

He acts like he’s smaller than he is. Will definitely ask to be little spoon, but you end up wrapping around him like a backpack. Sits on YOUR lap, etc

Always wants a kiss. Never let’s you leave the house without a kiss, and vise versa

He will pose for you. Pose for you to draw him, pose for pics, etc

Let’s you practice hair, nails, makeup, and anything else traditionally feminine on him. He thinks he looks fabulous

Will attempt to take bites of your food when you aren’t looking

Nanami

Such a gentlemen. He will chauffeur you everywhere, open your door for you, carry you when your feet hurt, pay for 100% of all dates, treats you like a princess

Speaking of princess treatment, he makes you breakfast in bed “just because”

Definition of a male wife. He does all the cleaning and helps with the cooking, always has the bed made and the house tidy by the time you get home

Brushes and does your hair for you, learned how to specifically for you

Such a romantic. I’m talking candle lit dinners, rose petals adorning the bedroom, bubble baths and more

Surprisingly super shy in public. You have to break him out of his shell a little bit

He secretly wears women’s perfume when he can. He thinks it smells so much nicer than cologne

Puts your needs first down to the most minimal details. Not making you sit next to strangers on trains, letting you get the entire hotel bed to yourself, letting you shower first with the hot water, etc

He takes any and all of your injuries seriously. Even a small paper cut he will have you wash and put a bandage on it to prevent infection

He also doesn’t take any risks. He makes sure anytime you guys are outside for an extended period of time that your wearing sunscreen. When you guys are in grass, he’s making sure you have on some kind of bug spray on your ankles

Brews coffee everymorning like clockwork for the both of you. He likes it black but bought a ton of stuff for you, so he makes your coffee Starbucks style the way you like it with cream and stuff

Watches you sleep, not in a creepy way. More in like your so beautiful he can’t keep his eyes off way

He’s super into yoga, will go to yoga classes with you. He’s so stiff he needs it

He reads a lot of books, and will geek out about them to you

Frequently accidently sleeps with his glasses on, you’ll wake up beside him and he will just. Have them on. And when he gets up in the morning to take them off he has red marks around his eyes

Nsfw

Gojo

Such a fucking tease. He LOVES to get you worked up before giving you what you want

Edging and overstim both ways. He loves to get you so close to that edge, then pull out and make you whine or beg for it. He also really enjoys making yoy cum over and over until your crying and pleading with him to stop. As for himself, his main motive for edging himself is to help him last longer. Lord knows he can’t stand more than 10 minutes inside you without cumming. He also loves it when you milk him for all he’s worth, ridding him into tears

Absolutely into sensory deprivation. He gets a kick out of either you, not being able to know his next move keeping you in the dark, or him, being at your mercy

Speaking of sensory stuff, he fucking loves it when you wear his blindfold. Blocking your vision, you can only feel his touches and not see them

He cums so much, everywhere all the time. His favorite place to cum has to be all over your face. Have you sucking him off, but before he cums he pulls out and jerks it a few times before painting your face with his seed. It’s so hot to him, seeing you covered in it

He might even take a picture if you let him. He’s really into picture/video taking, just to have for himself. Whenever your not there, he can pull out his file of lewd photos and videos of you two

He is soooo vocal. He’s loud and his moans are whiny. He doesn’t hold back though, he has no shame. Matter of fact he wants everyone to know what you do to him

Speaking of, he’s a bit of a risk taker. He’s not past sneaking into a changing room for you to help him with the boner he got looking at you in those clothes

While he may cum fast, he can still last several rounds without break. He is the strongest, after all

Loves oral giving and receiving because it’s so messy. He loves it when your drooling all over his cock, or when his chin is covered in your slick

He’s a switch, but when he’s on bottom he’d moan if you step on his cock. Such a slutty submissive, and a brat too. He’d do things to get you angry so you punish him for it later <3

Definitely has considered 3somes with geto, but never brought it up

I can see him being into roleplay

He’s not insanely girthy, but he is LONGG and pretty. Has a cute curve at the end that’s perfect for you

He loves fucking your tits

His fingers are slim and long, and when he fingers you he will make you see stars

Thinks it’s so hot when he gets you to squirt

Somno with consent

If you need to be clean right that moment he will do so, but aftercare with him usually he prefers to cuddle up and sleep then clean up in the morning

Nanami

Such a service dom. He’s a provider, and that nature sticks in the bedroom. He lives to please you, and will make you cum several times before even freeing his cock from his tight pants

He would definitely dabble in bdsm. Specifically, what he enjoys is bondage and brat taming

With bondage, he has it all. It may be a small fluffy pair of handcuffs binding your wrists behind your back, two a sturdy rope tying your ankles and wrists to the corner of the bed, to full on shibari, ropes all over your body

Absolutely uses his tie and/or belt to bind you

Brat taming was something you insisted, and when he tried it he found out he got a kick out of it too. It started with you teasing him all day, and when you begged him to be rough with you and put you in your place who is he to deny you?

Both kinks are done with upmost gentleness and care. Of course. He may also engage in light impact play, small spanks on your ass and even your clit. Nothing enough to hurt, just a little love tap to startle you

His hands drive you insane. His hands are so big, they wrap perfectly around your wrists, neck, hips, waist, etc. they also reach all the parts inside you just the way you like

While he often takes the leading role, he’s not opposed to letting you ride him to get yourself off when he doesn’t have the energy

He’s not very loud, mostly grunts and quite muffled moans come from him

So much praise. He’s constantly reassuring you through the whole ordeal, calling you beautiful, gorgeous, how well your doing, how good you are for him, etc

He would degrade you if you really wanted. Again, you’d have to tell him because he wouldn’t ever say such things to you but when your begging him to say mean things to you, he’s nothing but a pleaser

Cockwarming is a big turn on. He’s a busy man, so when he has work to do but you wanna get off, he will let you sit on his cock

Similarly, he also likes watching you ride his thigh. Your wet pussy grinding up and down on his clothed leg does something to him

Aftercare god. As soon as you guys are done he’s running a bath, carrying you to it, washing you off as you just lay back. After he drys you off, he’s carrying you back to the bed and wrapping you with his arms

[dilfl0v3rss]

tatted up

summary: you show connie your first tattoo

cw: slight angst but mostly fluff

word count: 2.2k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

connie had plenty of tattoos ranging from his neck all the way down to his calves. some of them were sacred to him while others were just for fun. you, on the other hand, had zero. you were raised in a pretty strict household so every time you even thought about getting a tattoo you were given the same old lectures about jobs and marriage. “how will you ever get a job if you decide to mark your skin up like that?” and “no man would want to marry a woman with drawings on her skin” were constant sentences thrown at you by your mother and aunts which led you to never getting one.

that was until you met connie. when you and connie met, the first thing about him that caught your eye were his many tattoos. the way the dark ink would dance around his light brown skin made you ready to make him yours right then and there. as the two of you got to know each other you soon fell in love, causing connie to add many pieces of art to his body in honor of you.

it never really bothered him that you decided not to get any tattoos to represent him. connie let you know many times that he actually rather you get your first tattoo to be something more meaningful since it’s your first. “nah mami have your first tat be for your dukes or a pet you had. you can do sum for me later on.” he was so fine for that honestly. plus he knew about how your family felt about them and he was very confident in your love for him so he alway let you know that you don’t need to show your appreciation for him through a tattoo like he does. “make sure it’s sum you want for real. im happy wit being on your nail and ion want you feelin’ like you need a tat cause i got some.” you were his and he was yours and it always showed. whether it be the many pieces of jewelry he’s bought you or the the beautiful letter “c” that you currently have on your nail. connie new you were his woman, but this was your decision.

you felt that connie was downplaying the impact he had on your life. not only did he make you happy, but he always made it his top priority to protect you which you were highly grateful for. he’s given you everything you can possibly hope for and more, and you wanted your first tattoo to be as sacred to you as his were to him. and nobody was more special to you than your connie. this led you to where you were now. sitting in the chair at mikasa and eren’s tattoo shop, the two of them doing their best to calm you down so eren can get started on you. “y/n you need to relax or this’ll never get done.” eren chuckled while he stared at you, tattoo gun in hand. you were no stranger to pain, having your pretty stomach piercing, that mikasa did, to show for it. “ren’s right hunny. you gotta chill or he won’t be able to work.”

it’s not like you were scared of the pain. you were just scared about how connie will react to you going against what he said. “i know y’all. i just don’t want con to be mad at this.” your nervousness showing all over your face as your two friends rubbed each of your shoulders. they understood how you felt, both feeling bad for going behind connie’s wishes and giving you a piercing and now a tattoo without him there. after you got your stomach done, connie seen how watery your eyes were when you got home. he immediately knew you were crying the whole ride, trying to hide it and appear excited to show him your new piercing.

after that day he asked eren and mikasa personally not to give you any piercings or tattoos without him there because he knew how much of a baby you were about needles. after the both of them witnessed you cry for about an hour when mikasa finished piercing your stomach they had no problem agreeing with his request, feeling so bad seeing you like that. but it’s been almost a year since then and they felt like you’d be able to handle this. and since you agreed to pay both of them even tho eren was the only one doing the tattoo, mikasa couldn’t resist. and if mikasa says yes then eren doesn’t really have a choice but to follow because he’s so scared of her.

“look baby ima be here, holding your hand the entire time. you came to me for your piercing because i’m the best right?” you reply with a nod as you wiped your eyes. “and you’re coming to eren right now because he’s the best right?” you nodded again. it’s true. mikasa and eren were well known in your area for their great tattoos and piercings. eren being widely known for doing tattoos for some rappers and basketball players while mikasa was recognized for her cool piercings on local bands. “then you have absolutely nun to worry ‘bout. i’d never hurt you girl and you know that. plus con would kill me if i did.” eren mumbled his last sentence as he starts up his machine. “just breathe f’me and this’ll be done in no time i promise.” you squeezed mikasa’s hand as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you lied down on the on the chair. “alright go ahead”

<<<time skip>>>

as you were driving home you decided to stop and get some gifts for your man just incase. you bought him some tech suits and, tank tops, and his favorite snacks from the corner store. as you pulled in your driveway you seen your phone ping with eren’s name on the screen. ‘please don’t tell con i did that shit. he gon try to murder me fr’ you giggle when you read the message, getting out your car before preparing to go inside. as you approached your shared home you took a shaky breath and made a silent prayer that this goes well. you walk into the door and instantly see your man on the couch, arms leaning on the top as he manspreaded while watching tv. “hey mami where you been at?” you thought it’d be better to just cut to the chase so you walked up to him, standing in between his legs before giving him the gifts. “what’s all this?” he smirked up at you as he leaned up, opening each bag in front of you.

as he looked at each gift connie couldn’t help but think there was something going on. he noticed that you haven’t spoken to him since you got home and you’ve been shifting from one foot to the other which was something you only did when you were nervous. “c’mere give papi a kiss.” you felt connie softly grab your wrist, pulled you closer to sit you on his lap. he placed his hand on your neck as he began tonguing you down, his tongue dancing with yours as they fought for dominance. when it came to that he always won, distracting you by giving you a squeeze to your neck. connie stops to move his lips towards your ear, turning your head to the side so he can whisper something to you. “what’d you do?” how the fuck did he know that you did something?

you hated how well he read you, but you couldn’t even dwell on that because you felt him begin to grip your neck tighter. you turned you head towards him, staring into his eyes as you contemplated how you were going to show him your tattoo. “uhh i just wanna let you know first that i-…i love you.” connie stared at you with attentive eyes, letting go of your neck as he grew worried at how nervous you were. “what happened? somebody been fuckin’ wit you because all you gotta do is show me where they at and ima-” you put your hand on connie’s mouth “no no no. nun like that baby just lemme finish okay?” connie nods his head, giving you the floor. “okay so we been together for a long time and i love you more than anything. you mean the world to me and i hope that i mean the same to you.” you begin to take off your hoodie, revealing your wrapped up chest to your boyfriend. connie’s eyes immediately start to water as he noticed the familiar name on your chest.

“mami you didn’t.” he whispered he started inspecting your inked skin. right above your left tiddy sat your lovers name in cursive with a small heart as the dot on the “i”. “i did pa and i don’t want you to be mad about it either. you told me to get something meaningful and nobody on this earth mean more to me than you. and i put that on everything i love.” connie was never much of a crier, but seeing how much you loved him always made him a little soft. since he never fucked with his dad and his mom wasn’t in his life as much as he wanted her to be, connie never really knew what it felt like to feel unconditional love. he was basically raised by his brothers on the streets and never was taught about things like how to properly love a woman and how to receive that same love back. luckily he was able to teach himself and came out just fine but, he couldn’t help but to get a little emotional when he sees the the love he’s been yearning for since he was a kid finally being administered to him. “i love you more than fucking anything y/n. i swear to god i got you forever.”

you began to rub the nape of his neck as he continued to stare at your chest, wiping his tears from his cheeks with your other hand. you were so happy that he loved the tattoo and seeing him so emotional brought you to tears as well, sighing as you tried to blink them away. “i-im just happy you l-like it f’real.” you sniffle as you try to catch your breath. the two of you were a mess. connie wiped your tears as you cried on his lap. he softly smiled at how emotional you get when it comes to him. all he did was shed a few tears and here you are full on sobbing on his lap. “i love it mami. who did it for you?”

not paying attention, you immediately tell him how you asked eren to do your tattoo since he was a trusted friend and how mikasa was also there for moral support. connie folded his lips, jaw tightening at your sentence. “ima kill his ass, but for now let’s put these gifts away.” you agreed and helped put all the stuff in your room, changing your clothes before sitting at your vanity to remove your makeup. you seen connie staring at you from his spot on the bed, licking his lips as he looked at your chest. you had one of his t shirts on and those damn near covered your whole body so you knew he was thinking about your new tat. “c’mere hermosa we gotta take that wrapping off.”

you walked up to him as he slid to the edge of the bed, legs open for you to stand in between them. connie removed your shirt and lightly rubbed his hands across your breasts. you weren’t wearing a bra since you slept more comfortably without one.“you got aquaphor and shit for it?” he says while nodding towards your chest. you let him know that you had everything you needed since you’ve watched him take care of his new tats plenty of times. he nodded his head, letting you know he was listening. after he finished unwrapping your chest you handed connie the ointment and let him rub it on your chest. it hurt a little but he was very delicate and took his time. as he finished you can tell he was getting hard from seeing your bare chest for so long, grabbing himself to readjust in his pants.

“all done. now lemme suck em” you couldn’t help but laugh as you put your shirt back on. “let’s take a nap first boo” you said as you made your way to your side of the bed. connie crawled towards you after you lied down in your back, lying his head on your stomach with the rest of his body in between your legs. “i really do got you forever ma. you my whole world.” you rubbed his head as you replied. “i know pa and i got you forever too. we locked in twin.” you cross your fingers in connie’s face, making you you giggle as he lightly pinched your side. “don’t play wit me lil girl. i already let you off the hook for goin’ without me and i’m still mad eren went behind my back. ima kill that muthafucka” connie mumbled as he closed his eyes. you immediately hushed up and said a silent prayer for eren as the both of you drifted off to sleep. you and connie were gonna be together forever and now you had the tattoo to show for it.

[tainted-liquor]

'La Princesa De Mi Corazon⋆˙⟡♡

E42!Miles Morales x Daddy's Girl!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles ! TWs: Cursing, realistic teenage dates (he didn't spend no 5k cmon now) W/C: 2.4k A/N: This can be read as an autistic reader if u squint rllly hard ! Another lovely request I got!! Enjoy luvs

For as long as you can remember, you've never actually been told the word "no" by your father. When your mother didn't wanna get something for you, you'd just ask your dad! Since you were the youngest and first daughter in your parent's long line of sons, with you having 4 older brothers, there were times when you didn't even have to ask, it was just yours before you could even think about it. Clothes, phones, shoes, makeup, perfume, all of it was yours. You were a daddy's money girl, with everything in the world right at your fingertips. So naturally, you tended to avoid serious relationships with boys due to your insanely high standards that had been curated since birth. Until you met him, Miles.

Miles was the complete opposite of you and your aesthetic. Where you were giddy and childish, he was serious and mature. You possessed everything under the sun in the shade of pink, where he barely had anything besides black and purples in his closet. Originally he didn't fuckin' like you, like, at all. He thought you were a 'spoiled air-headed dressed up money drowned bimbo' due to his experience in 'working' with rich people. They all seemed to act the same way and wanted the exact same thing, money or power.

But that view dropped immediately when he saw you interact with others. You weren't rude, you definitely weren't stupid, and you were the kindest most giving person he had ever seen before. People all in your circle constantly praised you for how sisterly you were, handing out gifts and words of wisdom like candy. Your only 'flaw' was your ignorance, living blind to the world around you due to being so heavily protected by your father. Sure, there was crime everywhere and New York was a walking murderhouse, but you didn't know that!

You were casually talking to one of your best friends Brenna when you bumped into someone, knocking you straight on your ass and causing him to stumble back a little. "I am so so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" you empathized as you picked yourself up and immediately offered to help the stranger. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket as he spoke, his voice quiet and steady as he did. "Oh my bad, It's all good. Just be careful." You gave him a warm smile and a brief nod before setting off again, assuming that would be the last time you two spoke. And damn were you wrong.

The next time you'd see Miles, you were at the mall the following Saturday with a shit ton of bags in your hands. You practically skipped through the concourses of the mall, smiling and giggling with Brenna. You were in a brand new off-white dress and rounded the corner to see Miles waiting for a Cinnabon in line. As soon as you saw the blue and white logo of the bakery, and the smell of sweet sugar and baked goods kissed the tip of your nose, you stopped what you were doing and stood behind the familiar set of twin braids. "Hey, Miles!"

Miles looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening a fraction when he saw over 10 bags on each of your arms. "Yo…what's up with all your bags? You don't feel your circulation gettin' cut off?" he asked with a bewildered expression, "Damn, how much money you spent here?" he gawked. Truth is, you weren't sure. All your dad said was to have fun and he didn't necessarily…give you an amount to spend, he just handed you the card and told you the PIN. "I actually don't know. This has to be a minimum of 600 dollars, Daddy just kinda told me to have fun with it!" You shrugged like that was completely normal.

Miles stared for a minute, analyzing the 20 bags you had in total from various stores. he sighed with a small smirk, shaking his head in disbelief as you sort of merged with his spot in line. Neither of you realized, but you unknowingly recruited Miles in your shenanigans at the mall as soon as you both left the bakery with a series of sweets. You three set off to the nearby sneaker outlet, buying everyone a minimum of 4 pairs of sneakers to match every outfit they'd ever make. If Miles didn't know before, he knew now that you were the gift god when it came to generosity and Daddy's money.

His entire perspective of you changed that day, with you more actively talking his ear off and surprising him with random shit you got with your dad's credit card. He knew then and there that your standards were sky high and anyone who ever fell in love with you would be up for a bullfight ahead of them. He saw how your dad showered you with absolutely anything you asked for, with you even having a real-life princess crown from 2011 plated with morganite and rubies stationed in a plastic case on a high shelf in your room. But as he spent more time hanging out with you or spending time over at your house with your brothers, it hit him like a fucking truck. He knew whoever found themself head-over-heels for the pretty pink princess of her family would be in for a fucking hell of a time, he just never expected it to be HIM.

The day he realized he loved you was just like any other day, with you speeding up to him whenever you saw him. Your usual poofy dress skirt flows behind you like something out of a Disney animation. As soon as he knew to grab you so you didn't send the both of you falling to the ground, he felt a sudden warmth in his face. No, not you smushing your face against his as you gave him a spine-breaking hug, but a new kind of warmth that screamed danger. He suddenly became aware of your perfectly fitting style and the way each of the features on your face harmonized perfectly to create the perfection that is you.

Even though you came from completely different backgrounds, you never ONCE in your life dared say something about his situation. There were nights when he would just watch you as the prowler, skipping through his neighborhood like you didn't hear any of the gunshots, screams, explosions, or see anything wrong at all with where you currently were. It's not that you didn't notice, but you were completely aware that not everyone was as fortunate as you were, so you had no right to look at situations that weren't identical to yours any differently. And despite how "uppity" you looked on the surface, you truly thought of everyone as a new friend.

You, on the other hand, were crushing HARD. On some, you actively got quieter and sometimes just shut the fuck up entirely when Miles was nearby. You knew that you were probably making a mistake by genuinely loving someone so fully in this age of infidelity and communication issues, but you couldn't help it! He was just so pretty and listened to everything you had to say and he never once asked you for anything! Ever! You didn't know how Miles would behave in a relationship, but you damn sure weren't prepared for it.

When Miles asked you out on a date, you were a squealing mess. You threw on a pretty pink dress and quickly threw your goddess braids into a quick bun. When your dad watched as you eagerly checked your outfit in the mirror, he was a little taken aback when you told him that you were going on a date. He gave you a warm smile, telling you to be safe and if he tries anything that he'll blow his fuckin' top off. You laughed at him being so overprotective, calmly explaining to him that Miles wasn't like that at all.

You silently pondered where Miles was planning on taking you. You didn't want your first date to be all fancy, because that made them look like they were trying way too hard. But you also didn't wanna sit in some random diner, either…you didn't know what you wanted. All you did was hope that he paid attention to any of your conversations as you patiently waited on your velvety couch. You immediately perked up at the sound of the doorbell, flying to the door and waiting a couple of seconds before swinging it open.

"Mírate! La princesa de Nueva York! You love your dresses, huh?" He asked with a small smile, bracing himself as you dove straight into his arms. You giggled as you did a small little spin, showcasing the new silk dress. "I was debating on a different babydoll dress I have or this one. This one just felt more fitting!" you shrugged as you closed the front door behind the both of you. Miles had no idea what a babydoll dress was, but he made sure to let you know that you looked stunning in this seashell shade of pink. You follow closely behind Miles, loosely wrapping both of your arms around his left arm as you begin to break down the various types of dresses, and which one was your favorite.

"I didn't even know dresses had names…What's your favorite kind?" He asked with a small amused smile. Not only was this the first time someone had actively listened to you rant about your love of dresses, but he made an effort to even ask what your favorite one was? Lord, he was in for an earful. And he clung to every single word you said like it was the sweetest of melodies. When you finished your long-winded rant regarding pink flowy sundresses, he nodded with a bashful grin. "So a puff-sleeved peasant dress made of chiffon?"

You nodded eagerly as you realized he had been listening to you the entire time. "Yeah! I drew it in my sketchbook a little while back, I think I'll show you when we walk back." You chirped as you slowly began to approach what looked like the most gorgeous candy store of your life. It smelled like heaven and looked just like eye candy. You didn't even get the chance to point before Miles gently guided you through the frosted glass double doors. You beamed as you immediately set off (taking him with you) toward some of the pastries.

You filled up two mini bags with various types of candy, croissants, and two rock candies, one in purple and one in pink. "Miles, what's your favorite candy?" You asked as you scooped gummy sharks into your bag. "Uhh…those sour airhead stripes," he replied as he grabbed two near-frozen sodas from the wide commercial fridge. You got two packs of his favorite candy and slipped it into one of your candy bags, skipping over to him to pay for everything at the counter. You rummaged through your bag for your wallet, looking up to realize Miles already had planted his card in the reader.

"C'mon, this is like, so much stuff! Let me pay!" you insisted as you went to open your wallet. He gave you a firm glare, zipping your entire wallet closed and stuffing it back in your bag. "You good? I'm taking YOU on a date, not the other way around" he asked as you intertwined your hand with his, allowing him to lead you back out of the candy store. You played back his words in your mind, processing each syllable and just how much it meant to you. You giggled to yourself as Miles told you that you were gonna go rollerskating before he took you back home!

There was no actual problem, you loved the idea of going skating with Miles! The issue was…you couldn't skate. Miles laughed loudly as he watched you attempt to meet him on the rink, trying not to bust your ass on the soft and neon carpet. You froze in complete terror, holding both arms out and vaguely resembling a confused cat with its ears back. Miles glided over to you between a fit of giggles, holding out his hand for you to hold onto.

You firmly grasped his hand, holding on for dear life as he slowly guided you to the shiny hardwood floors of the rink. "Miles I'm gonna fucking cry," you state, wide-eyed and afraid as your legs seem to weaken as he gently pushes you forward. "Alright, hold on mama. I gotcha, just drag your legs forward," he instructs as he glides forward like clockwork. He takes both of your hands within his, laughing as you fight back the urge to scream as you look down at the ground. "And here I thought you loved skating!" he laughed.

"I do! I swear I do! But I can't…oh my god I'm gonna faint…" you sighed as you wrapped both arms firmly around his torso, squeezing him like your life depended on it. "Alright, c'mon. Te ayudaré." he shrugs as he propels the both of you forward as slow as he knows how to. It was amazing, and your face lit up when you realized how fun it was to 'rollerskate'. You hadn't realized when, but you naturally picked up the rhythm of Miles's legs, adapting his style of skating slowly but surely. And when you realized you weren't even holding on to him anymore, your face lit up brighter than any star in the world.

When you packed everything up and returned both of your skates, you were giggling like a child and buzzed off nothing but sugar. You wildly explained how much fun you had and how you felt like a flying fairy on the skating rink, thanking Miles over and over for being so fun. He dropped you off at your house, holding a brief conversation with your parents as you skipped upstairs to find your sketchbook. You eagerly showed him the plethora of dresses you had cooked up in your head, explaining every one of them.

"Damn, you really are a princess huh?" He chuckled as you flipped through the many beta designs of dresses comparable to that of Princess Diana's. "I'll just have to get you one of these next time then huh? Tú eres la Princesa de mi corazon." he chuckled as you waved goodbye. You didn't know what he was saying, but you couldn't help but beam at the affectionate energy radiating from his words. He gave a formal goodbye to your parents before disappearing as swiftly as he arrived.

"I like that kid. He's very proper." You heard your mother exclaim. "Will he be over more often?"

You nodded eagerly as you ran up to your room to scream more into your pillow.

[delcakoo]

back off!↷*‧₊˚ p.sh

requested by nonnie, hope you’re okay :c

SUMMARY ! after wandering off at the grocery store, sunghoon is less than pleased to find some stranger trying to ask you out on a date. but no need to worry, he’s ready to put the guy in his place!

PAIRING ! sunghoon x fem!reader

WC ! 1.1k

GENRE ! fluff and crack ft jealous hoon

a/n: back to back posts whats going on ema?! well u see. i cant resist writing for my bf..

sunghoon knew going shopping with you was going to go one out of two ways.

option one, you’d somehow manipulate him into purchasing an armful of stuffed animals for your collection since — according to you — they were replacements for when he was away (which he was pretty offended about; how could those inanimate objects compare to the park sunghoon?), or option two, you’d find a way to escape his protective watch over you and wander off somewhere. 

update from sunghoon in the future: it was option two. or perhaps it’d be both, considering he was yet to find you.

sunghoon swore you did these things to him on purpose sometimes.

he was only distracted for a mere minute by all the different cereals on display, and yet you still somehow disappeared in those sixty seconds. “personally, i say we get rice krispies ‘cause i mean,” he scoffs as if it’s obvious, “let’s be real, you can never go wrong with rice krispies. and not those rip off chocolate ones! i mean the good ol’, classic regular ones. don’t you think—“

when sunghoon turns to give you a convincing perk of his lips, his face quickly drops in the realization that you’re nowhere to be found. “y/n..?” he finishes hesitantly.

with a stressed sigh, the boy quickly throws his rice krispies into your cart before pushing it onto the outside of the aisles, speed walking through the store while anxiously scanning each column for your bright purple winter coat.

yes, you may be a fully functioning person with a brain, but sunghoon highly preferred having you under his supervision at all times when it came to grocery shopping. who knew what strange goldfish flavor you were going to force him to buy, or what sale signs you were looking at, probably getting ready to say something like, “hoonie look, i can get twelve kitkat bars for only 15$! quite the bargain, huh?”

however, sunghoon quickly wishes it was the goldfish you were looking at, because the predicament he finds you in is much, much worse than any chocolate sale.

while your boyfriend was off having an inner debate over cereal like usual, you had gotten slightly distracted by a giant sign saying “buy two ice cream cartons, get one 50% now!”

who in their right mind would turn down a deal on ice cream? definitely not you!

you had eagerly waddled over to the ice cream aisle, smiling giddily at the thought of bringing back cartons of dessert for you and your boyfriend to share. just as you reach out to pull open the freezer door, a larger hand lands just on top of yours.

eyes widening, you whip your head over to meet eyes with a shockingly handsome stranger. he’s remarkably tall — though not as tall as sunghoon — you note.

when he looks down at you, he smiles in interest, quickly moving his hand off yours. “my apologies,mmiss.”

“oh, no worries.” you grin back, pulling open the fridge door for the both of you. as you begin to scan through the different flavors, the man’s voice interrupts you again.

“what’re you thinking of getting?” he inquires with a raise of his brow.

you glance back at him for a moment, pondering. “mm, maybe strawberry, i've actually never tried it before,” with your confession, you rub the back of your neck shyly.

the stranger gasps, looking at you offended. “what?! how have you never had strawberry ice cream?”

“i don’t know!” you defend with a giggle, “to be fair, i haven’t tried any flavor really— besides the basic chocolate and vanilla.”

the man reaches into the fridge to grab the strawberry ice cream — which was placed almost mockingly on the highest shelf possible — before handing it to you with a smirk. “if you want, i could take you out to try some other flavors?”

oh, was he trying to flirt with you this whole time?

guiltily, you quickly shake your head.” i’m sorry, you seem really nice, but i’m actually here with my— oof!”

before you know it, you’ve been pulled back into a sturdy embrace, the familiar smell of sunghoon surrounding you. his handsome face is slightly wrinkled due to a displeased frown, brows furrowed as he studies the man up and down. “hi hoon!” you say, beaming obliviously.

when he hears your voice, he looks down at you, fangs poking through his smile in adoration. “hi baby.” his smile vanishes as fast as it appears when he looks back up at the stranger in front of you. “and what do we have here?”

the man gulps, still awkwardly holding the carton of strawberry ice cream. “well- well i was actually just-“

“trying to ask my girlfriend out?”

“well technically yes, but i didn’t know that-“

“that your old navy sweater has a suspicious looking ketchup stain on the left sleeve?” sunghoon calls out condescendingly, “or that your hairline seems to be slightly receding, especially on the right side?”

your jaw drops, about to scold the boy before he continues, “y’know, before trying to ask someone out, especially someone who’s totally out of your league by the way, i’d start there.” with the final blow, sunghoon shrugs while pointing to the nearby clothes aisle, not before stealing the ice cream carton right out of the man’s arms.

as your boyfriend leads you away with a guiding hand on your back, you hear the man mutter an ‘asshole’ from behind you. sunghoon only snickers smugly, while you shake your head with a giggle.

“my big, strong, man!” you mock as soon as you’ve left the store with a teasing grin, “reclaiming his turf! marking his territory!” sunghoon blushes a bright red, looking away from you shyly. “asserting his dominance-“

“okay i get it, jagi,” he whines in embarrassment, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

you snicker in amusement, looking down at the strawberry ice cream in your grocery bag. “i mean, that was pretty good, i gotta admit. like— the hairline comment? did you learn that from niki?”

your boyfriend just sighs in defeat. “you’re never gonna live this down, are you?”

“nope!” you chirp, “but at least you look hot when you’re all protective.”

“just wait til’ you get jealous, i’m remembering this,” he mutters with a pout.

“whatever you say, love.”

it was safe to say that after today, sunghoon would never be complaining about your plushie or goldfish purchases ever again.

if you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated and motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

[cultofdixon]

Falling for you…wasn’t meant to hurt

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The two of you grew close because the universe thought you were meant to be. But Daryl agreeing to let you help him find Carol’s daughter, he didn’t expect anything bad to happen • ANGST/SFW • TW: Impalement / Injuries / Anxiety / Restlessness

Requested by: Anon

“If you’re gonna go search for the kid, don’t go alone.”

“Fine” Daryl made his way toward the camp outside the farm house as Rick gave him a confused look.

“Who are yea takin’?”

“Y/N” He states without a second thought in mind as Rick quickly grabs his shoulder stopping him.

“You sure that’s your best option?”

“I trust her more than you, Rick. She’s more than the best choice” Daryl retracts from the man continuing his way over to the tent city they have going on as Y/N’s was on the side closest to Daryl’s.

________

“Who’s that?” Merle elbows his brother to look at the woman seated on top of the RV.

Daryl looked over trying to get a good look at her face but when he couldn’t. He gave up and told Merle not to go there knowing damn well his brother was going to holler at her.

Then later in the night, Daryl went over to the camp fire they always have going when dinner was made from whatever he and Merle caught. He went to get him and his brother some dinner only for the woman from the roof of the RV to hand him two prepared plates before he could ask somebody to.

“It’s Y/N by the way”

“What?”

“My name. I’m the “who’s that” from the other day” Y/N gave him a small short lived smile before looking down at the book laid in her lap.

Daryl stood there a bit awkward while holding the plates as he cleared his throat to get her beautiful E/C eyes to look up at him.

“Daryl”

Her smile shot back instantly making his heart beat quicken.

“Don’t be a stranger, Daryl”

________

“Do you trust Rick?” Y/N asks Daryl as he was getting one of the Greene’s horses strapped with a saddle.

“Don’t know yet, more than Shane if it came to that though”

“Ugh. In those terms I agree…I just. Don’t understand how he’s so blind to their nonsense” Y/N frowns looking over to the camp while Daryl did his thing but his attention seemed to always fixate on her when she didn’t seem alright.

“Ready. Least I think I got this shit on right”

“You ride a horse before?”

“Uh. No, shouldn’t be too hard”

“If we had the resources like the old world, I’d tell yea to wear boots. So your feet wouldn’t slip from the stirup” Y/N stared watching Daryl get on with ease extending his hand for her as he kept his cool when her smile practically shot him. “Don’t do anything too crazy, cowboy”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl chuckles lightly as his mind was running miles at everything she did, even if it was the smallest thing of wrapping her arms around his waist. “Alright, let’s get”

God I really hate horses Y/N thought as she held onto Daryl for dear life wishing they went on foot.

I can’t focus On the other hand, Daryl’s mind raced having her this close.

But a good thing can’t last forever in the end of the world.

________

Daryl cared, but he also didn’t. In the moment he didn’t care about anybody else except her when he returned from Atlanta to find out a herd was crashing through.

Not that she needed any help given every walker that came toward her, met the short end of the stick.

Once the horror show came to an end and many were mourning, Y/N dropped her axe before falling to her knees and trying to wrap her head over all the happened. Her mind was flooded until she felt hands carefully take a hold of her face. Her eyes instantly locked onto his piercing blues.

“Are yea bit?” Daryl frowns waiting for her to answer as she shook her head, bringing a whole wave of relief. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get yea cleaned up”

________

They can handle anything

Daryl jolts awake in a bit of a haze feeling the pain in his side realizing he was impaled by his own arrow. But given the racing situation at hand, it didn’t remain in his side as he quickly pulled it out while scrambling to get his crossbow in order to shoot the walker getting dangerously to Y/N’s unconscious form.

The second he landed the shot, Daryl dropped his crossbow rushing the best he could over to Y/N and rolling her onto her back noticing the branch embedded in her side.

“Fuck” Daryl frowns removing his shirt wincing when he agitated his injury and wrapping it around her middle to secure the branch. “Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP” he didn’t meant to shout so loud at the last part but it got her to jolt awake wincing in pain immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry”

“W-…What a way….t-to wake a dying p-p…person” Y/N scoffs wincing more feeling the branch move when she took a breath.

“Y-Yea ain’t dyin’”

“H-Hurts…though” Y/N finally got a deep breath in, exhaling slowly feeling his fingers press against the pulse point on her neck. “Mm still here…”

“Yea better be by the time we get back”

Y/N couldn’t even wrap her head around that thought. Of making it back alive. She thought she was going to die there or on the way back, but given how hard Daryl was trying and the anxiety laced in his voice. Even with how much he’s talking…she’s not going to feed into the seeds of doubt and let him try, hell…she’s still trying.

“Can’t move yea too much…gonna have to go the long way”

“H…How’d we even…?”

“Stupid goddamn h-horse” Daryl winced to his pain when he tried to get up so he could help her up. Y/N carefully pressed her hand to his injured side getting another wince out of him and when she removed her hand she saw the blood.

“You can’t die for me” The first clear thing she’s said since the fall and Daryl didn’t know what to say. The anger that always laid dormant in him at times, started to peak out when his mind raced to the conclusion that he’s not going to listen to her if she starts talking about leaving her behind.

“F-Find something”

“What?”

“F-…Find ah…” Y/N laid back again in the dirt looking around locking onto the walker he had killed to keep her from getting bitten. “S-Stop the bleeding. T…Ta…Take his s-shirt”

He would listen to her direction but find himself yelling at every moment she closed her eyes. They were both weak, but he’s the only one capable of getting them out of there.

Daryl took the shirt and secured it to stop the bleeding on his side. Then he decided to take the dead’s pants thinking if he could climb up from where they fell while Y/N was wrapped to his back, then they could follow the same tracks that got them there instead of trying a whole new route. But that meant having to cut the branch shorter and warning her was the easy part.

Feeling her nails dig into his arm as he used his knife to shorten the branch on either side…listening to her scream in agony and the blood continued to seep through his shirt that was supposedly secured around her. He was in hell.

Y/N tiredly watches the creek disappear as Daryl carries her on his back taking his sweet ass time climbing.

“Gonna get Hershel, to check on yea.”

“You…”

“Me? Me what? Me too? Yeah no shit. None of’em out there are gonna let me walk around bleedin’”

“…s-someone needs to care”

Daryl was reaching the last stretch in climbing when she said that. He was confused on what she meant but when he finally got onto the main path pulling the rest of her up and beside him. Y/N had gone unconscious again. She wasn’t finished and he wasn’t happy seeing her eyes closed.

“Come on” Daryl shakes her at first, trying to keep the yelling at a minimum because the only thing it’s going to do is draw more sickos toward them. But he wasn’t getting anything immediately. “Y/N?” His fear started to get him as he gently brushes the hair out of the way of her face shaking her head carefully. “Please. Please. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His voice cracked, his tears were threatening to spill over.

It took a second but she tiredly opened her eyes reaching forward and grabbing a fist full of his tank top.

“Tired…” She sighs feeling his hands rest on her face. “Sorry”

“You’re not allowed to die, alright? I’ll kill yea if you do”

Even in a weak state she couldn’t help but laugh to such.

Soon they were on their feet, Y/N’s arm draped over Daryl’s shoulders as he kept her up the best he could while they made their way back.

“Walkers!” Andrea yells catching everyone who was outside’s attention.

As Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog grabbed their guns and made their way to the walkers given there was only two. But Andrea decided to take the hunting rifle and get ready to take at least one of them out.

“Andrea don’t”

“Shut up Dale”

Y/N groaned touching her side to see the fresh blood coming out as she gave Daryl a worried look while he kept a stern one. He wasn’t stopping. Then her anxiety got the best of her right when the four approached them aiming their gun.

“That’s the second time you aimed that thing at me” Daryl huffed.

“Oh my god Y/N” Glenn frowns noticing her injury then they all were startled by both Y/N shoving Daryl off and her falling back when the shot rang through. “Holy FUCK!”

The group that rushed over surrounded Y/N as Daryl weakly looks up from his fallen position noticing her unmoving form. He couldn’t quite pick out what they were saying as he tried to get himself off the ground. Eventually T-Dog approached him with an extended hand.

“C’mon man. We gotta get you checked out”

“Is she—-“

“She’s still breathing” T-Dog reassures him as he got Dixon back on his feet bringing his arm around his shoulders. “The hell happen?”

“Goddamn horse” he scoffs feeling his anger bubble inside himself when watching Shane carry Y/N sprinting toward the house.

Daryl found himself at the dining room table letting Maggie do his stitches while the room that once had Carl, now had Y/N being worked on by Hershel with help from Patricia. He anxiously waited and winced every now and then when Maggie pulled a bit too tight on her stitches. She’d apologized immediately.

“Yer dad is good right?”

“Yes. For someone who originally only worked on animals” Maggie states applying the bandage as Daryl immediately got up leaving the house and approaching the camp.

“Who the fuck fired?”

Everyone grew tense with the tone he took as it was obvious given her avoidance to eye contact when he brought it up.

“Who. Shot. Their. Gun.”

“Andrea” Glenn blurted as Dale smacked him in the arm. The guy was nervous. He wasn’t about to lie for her.

“I’m sorry Daryl! You two looked awful and from afar—like walkers. I had to protect—-“

“FOUR OF YALL CAME TOWARD US. WE DIDNT NEED SOME TRIGGER HAPPY BITCH TAKE CARE OF IT” Daryl snaps as Rick stepped between them pushing him back gently keeping mind of his own injuries.

“Look. You’re upset. We all are. We’re worried about—-“

“Nah. She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you had just trusted me to take care of business by myself. I shouldn’t have taken the one person I care about in this goddamn apocalypse” Daryl clenched his jaw moving his gaze to the floor. “I’m leavin’ if I lose her” he whispered.

“Daryl”

The two quickly turned to Maggie as she kept a relaxed expression but the tension in her shoulders struck Daryl’s anxiety.

“We need you”

Daryl quickly ran toward the house and barging into the room noticing the branch was still in Y/N’s side.

“Why the fuck haven’t—-“

“I stabilized it but she woke up, screamed at us wondering where you were—-“

He didn’t say anything all he did was instantly to go to her side noticing the color that left her face from the blood loss, and the bullet graze on the side of her face.

“D-Daryl. It h-hurts” She whined with tears streaming down her face as Daryl held her hand trying not to fall apart.

“He’s gotta take it out and access yea, sunshine”

“P-Please. Don’t leave”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl states giving Hershel a look for him to get started as he watches the doc move the bandaging showing the branch that still needed to be pulled out. His heart was pounding in his chest holding Y/N’s hand knowing in a split second he’s going to have to hold her shoulders.

Which happened to be now. Hershel started to pull the branch out and Y/N tried to fight Hershel wanting him to stop but he kept repeating “almost there”. Daryl brought his hands to her shoulders pinning her down as Patricia held her legs down to keep the movement at a minimum. She clawed at Daryl’s arms crying in pain as he knew he would be hearing her screams whenever something went wrong in the future.

Once the branch was removed, the blood poured in new places that weren’t where the clamps were. Leading Hershel to apply pressure immediately while Patricia scrambled to get what they needed. Daryl relaxed but tensed instantly when Y/N’s breathing slowed…slower than normal.

“Goddamn it” Daryl frowns holding Y/N’s face shaking her slightly. “Come on come on come on!” He shouted startling everyone as Hershel took notice and quickly checked her pulse while Patricia kept the pressure.

“Son, you know CPR?!”

“What?! Nah. No she don’t need it. She’s just—-“

“You need to do it or she’ll die”

Then the sound went out in his head. Daryl instantly started to do CPR and tried his best not to instantly break her ribcage with the pressure he was building up to. His shoulder was grabbed when Hershel finished his work and checked her pulse. He did good. Daryl did good.

“She’s gonna be unconscious for a while” Hershel states, about a few hours later as it was now the evening. Daryl hasn’t left her side and he mainly said that in hopes he’d get up to walk around a bit. But he didn’t want to face anybody. “She lost a lot of blood and it’ll take a while—-“

“Use mine”

“Pardon?”

“I’m fucking universal. Take some of mine to help her”

________

“He seriously did that?” Y/N questions Daryl as the two were sitting alone in the room they were sharing at the CDC.

“Got a lot of money out of it”

“But that’s not safe. Taking three pints? How did you not go into shock?”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“Daryl, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever gave me your blood”

“Huh?” Daryl was confused on what she meant and Y/N was getting at, if the situation asked for it. She wouldn’t want him to bleed himself just for her to live. “You ain’t gonna lose a fuckton of blood. Won’t let it happen”

________

Three pints. Fucking moron.

But Hershel only took one a day and gave it to Y/N, letting Daryl take the couch in the living room to recuperate after each transfusion. He had to be a human blood bag, Hershel couldn’t calculate a pint so he had a cut off period. Meaning 3 pints could’ve been less than what was taken.

Daryl didn’t have to give anymore and found himself back in the chair beside the bed staring blankly at the window seeing the group take advantage of the luxury of the Greene farm. Part of him knew it wasn’t going to last. Something in him was leaning toward that, but he wasn’t going to lose her if something bad were to happen.

He flinched to feeling something as he brought himself to cross his arms turning toward her thinking it was just a breeze. But when he noticed her open eyes and extended hand, it was her.

“Holy shit. Holy SH—“ Daryl cut himself off when Y/N brought her finger to her lips to shush him as he leaped out of the chair dropping to his knees directly beside the bed dropping his head onto the bed. She instantly wrapped her arm around his shoulders as her other hand carefully reached over to run her fingers through his hair. “Thank god. Thank fucking god”

“Dar…your arm is bruised”

“Don’t…don’t worry about it, sunshine. I had to do what I had to do”

A sigh escaped her lips making him turn his face toward her as she gently caresses his face watching him relax to her touch.

“I’m always going to worry about you”

“Y/N…you almost died” His voice cracked as her expression saddened gripping the back of his shirt tugging at him. Daryl got the idea as he pulled himself up letting Y/N wrap her arms around him as they both kept in mind their injuries.

“I’m not going anywhere…has to take a lot to take me away from you”

“I love you…I loved yea since I first met you…”

Y/N held onto him with the strength she had feeling Daryl hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“Falling for you, wasn’t meant to be literal” She giggles feeling him pull away so he could get a good look at that smile of hers that he missed so much. “I love you Daryl”

The tears came back when he brought his lips to hers feeling her gently wipe away his tears not breaking the kiss they shared. She returned her arms around his shoulders parting from him to bring him close once again.

“I ain’t letting go, sunshine”

“Good…”