#it’s crazy how much emotion you can read off of his voice alone like I can never even tell quite that much from faces

[deadwardianpoltergeist]

jesus christ why does pedro pascal give din djarin’s voice so much EMOTION

[anakinstwinklebunny]

DOCTOR!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 🩺

TW: at some point it contains mentions of body worshipping, blow job..just in general pretty filthy sexual content so, if you're uncomfortable with the warning, please do not read for your own safety and comfort 💓

Doctor!Anakin who was your doctor in the beginning but already caught your interest. He wasn't like other doctors here, in this clinic. He was actually polite, patient, made actually funny and, most important, no inappropriate jokes to lighten the mood. Plus, he was dead handsome and that alone brought your heart to race like crazy

Doctor!Anakin who surprisingly to you, liked you in a way doctor doesn't like his patients, rather like a lover does. He tried to make different jokes while you were visiting his office to somehow bring himself closer to you. Of course, as much as he wanted to ask you out, he wouldn't do it while he was at work, it'd be unprofessional

Doctor!Anakin who, when you started dating, became your private doctor 24/7

Doctor!Anakin who often gave you the contacts to the best doctors in town which happened to be his close friends

Doctor!Anakin who's absolutely protective over you and always cares about your health. That's why he often suggested to go with you for tests. Since, for example, he knew that you hate blood tests and get very anxious and emotional during it. But it's not like he's all the time filling your mind with testing yourself. He just very gently and calmly asks if you want to go with him (since he tries to test himself regularly) take tests and if you agree, he's more than happy to really be there for you during some of them (he knows how anxious and scared you can be)

Doctor!Anakin who did an operation on you when you had to have one;

Fun fact this was supposed to be a collab with beautiful @kingdomhate to which we agreed to do months ago so @kingdomhate , I'm waiting for you 🙄

As a doctor, Anakin had navigated the intricacies of countless surgeries with precision and unwavering focus. His hands were steady, his mind sharp. But today was different. Today, it was you on the surgical table. Despite the calm facade he maintained, a deep, unspoken worry gnawed at him.

Your eyes, wide with a mix of curiosity and fear, followed the syringe as he prepared it, the clear liquid shimmering ominously inside. "What’s that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with anxiety.

Anakin’s heart ached at the sight of your uncertainty. He met your gaze with eyes full of warmth, a soft frown creasing his brow as he gently explained. "It’s just the anesthesia, sweetheart. It’s going to help you drift off to sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be over. You won’t feel a thing, I promise."

You nodded, your trust in him unwavering, though the apprehension still lingered in your eyes. "Okay," you murmured, a slight quiver in your voice.

Anakin’s smile was tender, a small attempt to comfort you as his fingers brushed delicately against your cheek, tracing the familiar contours of your face. "We’re going to start now. Are you ready to let go and get some rest?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

You managed a faint smile, trying to muster some lightness in the midst of your fear. "I guess I could use some more sleep," you replied, your tone soft but still tinged with anxiety.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, a sound filled with love and reassurance. As he carefully administered the anesthesia, his touch was as gentle as a whisper. "That’s my brave girl," he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby. "Just relax and let the world fade away. I’ll be here, right by your side."

As Anakin made his way to your room, fatigue weighed heavily on his shoulders. The operation had been long and demanding, every second requiring his full concentration. But despite the exhaustion tugging at him, a deep sense of relief washed over him knowing that the surgery was a success. The thought of seeing you again filled him with renewed energy.

When he entered the room and saw you lying in bed, a soft smile touched his lips. He moved closer, his eyes warm and filled with affection as they took in your drowsy form. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost a whisper.

You didn’t respond immediately, your eyes hazy and unfocused from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Instead, you gazed up at him as though you were seeing an apparition, a gentle, almost dreamlike expression on your face.

A quiet, affectionate chuckle escaped Anakin as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes. You were undeniably under the influence of the drugs, and the sight of you like this was both endearing and amusing.

"You're so high right now," he teased, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched you struggle to focus on his face.

With a clumsy movement, you lifted your hand and poked at the fabric of his smock, your touch light and uncoordinated. "You’re... fine-looking," you mumbled, your voice slow and slurred, as though the words themselves were drifting on a cloud.

Anakin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound deep and rich, filling the room with warmth. There was something so utterly charming about your drugged-up state, and the way you were trying to compliment him despite it all. He raised an eyebrow, still grinning as he leaned a little closer. "Just fine-looking?" he teased back, his tone playful, his eyes sparkling with humor.

Anakin leaned in closer, his gaze softening as he took in every detail of your face. Now just inches away, he could see the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle rise and fall of your breath, and the way your lashes fluttered slightly as you struggled to focus on him.

"You're absolutely gorgeous though" he murmured, his voice low and tender as his eyes traced over your features, lingering on every part of your face like a painter admiring his masterpiece.

You gasped softly, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks as his words sank in. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you whispered in awe, "That cute guy likes me..."

Anakin’s laughter was warm and full of affection, his heart melting at how sweetly the drugs were affecting you. Your reaction was innocent and utterly charming, like something out of a dream.

"Yes," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, "that cute guy really, really likes you." He knew exactly who you were talking about, and the thought made his chest swell with love.

Without a second thought, he leaned in even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal the words he had just spoken.

Your eyes widened again, the surprise and delight in them unmistakable. "That cute guy is kissing me!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with excitement, almost as if you couldn’t believe it was real.

Anakin smiled against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze. "And he’s never going to stop," he whispered, his eyes full of adoration as he looked at you, his heart full to bursting with love.

Doctor!Anakin who can’t help but give you medical advice, even for the smallest things. If you so much as sneeze, he’s ready with remedies, and if you’re hurt, he’ll drop everything to take care for you

Doctor!Anakin who finds solace in your presence. After particularly tough days, he seeks you out to decompress, finding comfort in your embrace and sharing the emotional burden of his job. He’s not afraid to show his vulnerable side with you, whether it’s admitting how hard a day was and etc

Doctor!Anakin whose bedside manner are impeccable (especially when you're sick). He’s attentive, gentle, and goes above and beyond to ensure your comfort

Doctor!Anakin who's favorite show was 'doctor house'

Doctor!Anakin who, even with hectic schedule, tries to prioritize your time and you alone. When he finishes work, he finishes work. It's time for you both. Yes, sometimes he has emergencies but mostly he tries to not pick up his phone when he's with you

Doctor!Anakin who's a coffee addict. He’s practically fueled by coffee, and you often tease him about his excessive consumption. Despite this, you always make sure there’s a fresh pot waiting for him at home after a long shift. Sometimes, you’ll surprise him at work with his favorite coffee order, just to brighten his day.

Doctor!Anakin who is a highly dedicated doctor, often working long shifts that leave him exhausted. He’s passionate about helping people, but it sometimes takes a toll on his mental and physical health. You’re the one who gently reminds him to take breaks, eat properly, and get enough sleep, even if it means dragging him away from the hospital when he forgets to put himself and his wellbeing first

Doctor!Anakin whose relationship with you is the one thing that softens his rough edges. Around you, he lets down his guard, showing a more vulnerable and affectionate side. Just being close to you, whether it’s lying in bed together in silence or holding your hand, helps him cope with the weight of his work.

Doctor!Anakin who knows how important it is to keep the romance alive, so even if it’s something simple like a homemade dinner or a late-night walk, he puts in the effort to make you feel special.

Doctor!Anakin who finds cooking therapeutic after a long day. You often come home to the smell of something delicious on the stove, with Anakin in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, and a content look on his face. He doesn't even know how hot he looks there

Doctor!Anakin who will send you quick texts during breaks—just to check in, see how your day is going, or tell you he loves you. It’s his way of staying connected, even when he can’t be there physically

Doctor!Anakin whose mornings are usually chaotic, especially when he’s on an early shift. You’ve developed a routine where you both navigate the morning rush together—he makes the coffee, you pack his lunch, and you share a quick breakfast before he heads out the door. Or sometimes, more often, when you're too lazy to do that, Anakin just wakes you up gently before leaving for work with small kisses and soft whispers

Doctor!Anakin who is such a worshipper of your body;

Anakin's lips trail over your skin with a reverence that borders a worship. Each kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he's memorizing the taste and texture of every inch of you "so soft..so beautiful.." he kept murmuring between gentle kisses.

He started with your collarbone, the kisses lingering on your delicate line, his breath warm against your skin. His large, overworked and hands gently cradle your sides, pulling you closer as his mouth moves lower, brushing over the curve of your breasts. "Gonna tell you everyday how beautiful you are so it'd stick to that little pretty head of yours"

His touch is precised, tender. His overworked yet skilled hands seem to know your body better than you do. He knows where to touch, how to touch.

He makes you responsive. breathless. loved.

His kisses are unhurried, simply savouring your lovely body in one go. His lips pressed against your stomach, to which your breath hitched and your fingers tugged at his short hair, as much as they could

Doctor!Anakin who doesn't mind some love making in shower

Doctor!Anakin who loves plants. He literally most of the time goes with you to local green marketplace, filled to the brim with different flowers, herbs or plants

Doctor!Anakin who easily gets bold in bed. So, he's a dom but rather a soft dom. And he always makes sure that not only he finishes but you especially, even before him

Doctor!Anakin who really doesn't mind you changing before him;

Anakin glanced over at you as you muttered a curse under your breath, mentioning your need to go to the bathroom. He could see the hesitation in your eyes, the way you were being a bit shy about it, and he couldn’t help but find it endearing. To him, your embarrassment was entirely unnecessary—he had seen you at your most vulnerable, more times than he could count, and it only deepened his affection for you.

"Just do it here," he said casually, his attention still mostly on the TV screen, though his tone was laced with genuine care.

"But—" you started, your voice trailing off as the embarrassment took over.

Anakin shifted his gaze back to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a reassuring warmth. He could see the flush of your cheeks, the slight uncertainty in your expression.

"Babe," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "I literally performed surgery on you. Trust me, seeing you change is the least of my concerns."

You bit your lip, still feeling a bit self-conscious. "Did it gross you out tho?" you mumbled with slightly pinky cheeks

He chuckled warmly at your question with a head shake "No, not at all. I’m a doctor—things like that don’t gross me out," he reassured you, his voice gentle yet amused. "Besides," he added with a playful glint in his eyes, "I see you naked almost daily. There’s nothing you could do that would make me think any less of you."

Doctor!Anakin who sometimes send you flowers to your workplace without much occasion

Doctor!Anakin who definitely knows how to finger you and make you a gasping mess

Doctor!Anakin who does not mind making you cry (during some love making of course). It just gives him the possibility to haunt you with 'crybaby' nickname

Doctor!Anakin who sometimes isn't there to satisfy your needs and you have to something else;

It was common for anakin to leave for some serious medics meeting in (or out of) town that lasted days. Each time, you felt yourself missing his strong arms around you, his warm body in bed, his soft words yet what you especially missed was those sleepless nights where nothing was more important for him than making you his all over again

So, without him near, you couldn't help but find something to satisfy your primal hunger and what was better than Anakin's pillow?

It felt embarrassing..it felt wrong..yet so good at the same time. With your imagination running wild, you humped on the soft material. Recreating the images of his beautiful face gazing as you ride him, you actually cursed the medical company that managed to took him away from you. Even for those three days

Your actions only brought moans and gasps from your parted lips. It's all you could hear and with your eyes closed, you haven't even acknowledged who appeared in the room

When Anakin took steps through the stairs up to your shared bedroom, the light betrayal and shock spun around his body to sank to his skin. At first he was sure he caught you cheating but that would be impossible - he thought - because his sweet girl would not let any other man touch her, right?

But when he quietly got inside the room, ready to caught you in the act, he was not prepared to see you riding his pillow, moaning out his name like a prayer

his expression was rather puzzled and he still tried to fully understand what's just happening when your eyes met. The embarrassed blush crept on your cheeks and tied your lips.

So that's how embarrassment feels like

“Don’t mind me, please, continue.” his words brought your embarrassment mix with confusion

But when you didn't do as he said, suddenly too shy and embarrassed, on the brink of tears for being found out, he lose his restraint and made his way to you. Taking the soaked pillow out from between your legs, he pushed your face down to the bed and made sure your hips stay in the air. “I didn’t expect my kind, sweet patient to be so dirty.” his eyes took a good look at your sex with a tired yet somehow pleased smile, “You should have told your doctor to help and wait for him to appear” the sound of unbuttoned belt rang in your ear. This was happening all so quickly. You haven't even had a chance to say anything, just submitting to him but still feeling so.. humiliated, awkward “And since I stopped you from helping yourself, I’ll take the responsibility to help you Miss y/l/n"

Doctor!Anakin who you sometimes surprised in his office during his lunch break and things can go wild..;

As you suck on him, his body arches off the chair, a low moan escaping his throat. His large hand tangling in your hair as he loses himself in the sensation of your mouth on his cock "That's it... oh fuck..." His hips start to move rhythmically, seeking more of you as his moans fill the air "just like that... suck on it baby..." He pants "Oh fuck... don't you dare stop.. didn't know I have such little warm throat to bruise.. shit--"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[en-dazed]

stay with me - yang jungwon

PAIRINGS: idol!jungwon x nonidol!reader

GENRES: fluff, slight angst

WARNINGS: none

SYNOPSIS: jungwon is away on tour and you miss him

WORD COUNT: 1k

A/N: heavily inspired by jungwon’s late night lives, this is just me feeding everyone’s delusions even more

likes, reblogs and any interactions are appreciated <3 as always, let me know if you liked it!

The weight of exhaustion bore down on you, making it increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open. You blinked several times, trying to fight off the drowsiness that threatened to pull you into the depths of sleep. Your mind, however, was still fixated on the absence of any messages or calls from the boy you had been eagerly anticipating.

You went through the mundane notifications on your phone; a message from your brother asking if you had eaten the last slice of leftover pizza, a missed call from Chaewon with texts that followed asking if you wanted to go out that night (which you had ignored) and an alert from a game on your phone that told you your lives had been restored. Nothing from him. 

The time on your phone showed that it was well past midnight now, hours past the time he would usually call you. You sighed, feeling a mixture of disappointment and concern. It wasn't like him to go silent without any explanation. You scrolled through your recent conversations, reading the messages he had last sent. 

won ❤️: sorry love, i’ll be really busy today

won ❤️: have so many schedules 

won ❤️: i miss you so much sweetheart

won ❤: i’ll call you tonight, i promise!!!

You had replied back telling him it was alright and that you missed him as well but the words below the message showed that he hadn’t even seen it. 

You weren’t aware of drifting off to sleep until you were startled awake by the vibration of your phone that had fallen from your hand to your bed. Groggily, you picked up the phone, squinting at the bright screen. 

As you focused your bleary eyes on the screen, your heart skipped a beat when you saw his name flashing on the caller ID. Swiftly, you answered the call, your voice laced with a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Won!” You said, with as much excitement as you could muster with how sleepy you were. 

"Hey sweetheart," his voice sounded strained, filled with a mixture of apology and fatigue. "I'm sorry for not reaching out earlier. It's been a crazy day, and I couldn't find a moment to breathe, let alone call you."

 The only thing on your mind was relief, happy to hear that he was alright. “I was starting to get worried," you admitted, your voice tinged with concern and relief to hear that he was alright. “I’m just so happy you’re here now.”

A sigh escaped his lips, filled with a hint of regret. "I'm sorry for making you worry. The only thing that kept me going today was knowing I would be able to hear your voice at the end of it.”

You could hear the weariness in his voice, and it tugged at your heart. Despite your own tiredness, you mustered up a comforting tone. "It's okay, Won. I know how exhausting it’s been for you lately.”

He let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you, sweetheart.” 

There was a moment of silence before you asked him,“Can I see you? I really miss you.”

You could almost hear the smile on his face as he answered you. “Of course, love. Wait, I’ll turn on Facetime.”

Excitement welled up within you as you prepared to see his face, even though exhaustion still lingered in your bones. You adjusted yourself in bed, propping up some pillows to sit more comfortably. With a few taps on your phone, the Facetime call connected, and his familiar face filled the screen.

Despite the horrible lighting on his end and the weary look on his face, your heart sped up at the sight of your boyfriend. Seeing him brought a rush of emotions, from relief to joy, as you took in his tired but warm smile. "There you are," you said, a mix of affection and longing in your voice. "I've missed seeing you so much."

He chuckled softly, his tired eyes lighting up. "I've missed seeing you too, sweetheart. It feels good to finally hear your voice and see your face."

“Did you wash your hair?” You asked, noticing the way his wet bangs stuck to his forehead. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, I took a shower after practice. But I’m way too tired to fully dry it right now.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you watched him, feeling a wave of fondness wash over you. "You're adorable, even with wet hair," you said, a smile playing on your lips. "But you should dry it before you sleep or you’ll get sick."

“Don’t worry love, it’s half dry now anyways. I promise I won’t get sick.” He smiled at you endearingly. 

You felt a pang of sadness go through you and you fought to not show the sudden change in emotion. “I wish you were here.” You whispered. 

Jungwon’s smile softened and a hint of sadness flickered in his eyes as well. “I know sweetheart. I wish I was with you too. I would do anything to be with you right now and hold you close.”

The distance between you felt particularly heavy in that moment, and the exhaustion you both carried seemed to intensify the ache of missing each other.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, the ache of longing intertwining with the warmth of love in your heart. “Just four more months to go.”

He nodded, pouting his lips and playfully blowing a kiss at the screen. “I’ll be there before you even know it.” 

You giggled, repeating the action back at him. “I love you Won.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” He yawned through his words as he shifted back on the bed, settling onto his pillow. 

“Do you want to sleep?” You asked and he shook his head. 

“Stay with me.”

You knew from the way he was barely able to keep his eyes open that he was already on the cusp of falling asleep. A soft smile tugged at your lips at the sight of your sweet boy struggling to stay awake for you. 

“Always.” Your words were barely audible and you weren’t even sure if he heard them as his eyes closed fully and his breathing slowed down. You stared at the boy lovingly for a few seconds before putting the phone down next to you, still on Facetime as you got comfy on bed as well. 

And just like every night since he had gone on tour, you both drifted to sleep on call; dreaming of the day that you would get to sleep next to each other once more. 

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Headcanons: Jordan Li with Streamer!fem reader

A/N: This character has a chokehold on me just like they do everyone else. Also, I don't claim to own this character nor the gifs, I just had this idea for a scenario.

Notes: 1116 word count and some swearing.

You never thought that your stream you started out of boredom during high school would take off but by the time you got to GOD U, you were always on the Top Ten Streamer list on V-TV.

 Your content ranged from wholesome gaming, collabs with other creators, and commentary on popular videos or media. Emma, Marie, Luke, Cate, and Andre had all been featured at least once but your oldest friend, Jordan, was hesitant.

“I don’t want a bunch of weird strangers knowing who I am,” they muttered when you tried to convince them to join for the millionth time.

You pouted, “Jordan, that’s what the mods are for. Anyway, it’s a risk you’re going to have to take as a supe anyway, right?” They were reluctant to admit you were right and after bribing them with Olive Garden, grumpily sat next to you as you set up your stream the following night.

“Try to look a little more enthusiastic,” you teased as you adjusted your cameras to frame you and Jordan well.

“It’s hard when I’m still hungover,” they griped. Despite their mood, you couldn’t help but feel giddy as you clicked on the big green “start” button and sat down in your custom gaming chair.

“Hi everyone, welcome back! Today, I have a very special guest who taught me almost everything I know about gaming,” you chirped, pulling Jordan’s chair closer to your side. “This is Jordan.”

Almost immediately, your chat started going crazy. “Who’s the hot guy?” “That’s your friend???!!!” “I knew I should’ve tried harder to get into GOD U.”

Jordan’s eyes widened at the response, and they sat up a little straighter and waved. “Hi everyone and yes, I am Y/N’s friend, and I did teach her everything she knows about gaming.” You elbowed them in the side playfully. “Not true!” “Before me, she didn’t even know what T-posing was.”

You playfully smacked their arm and shook your head. “Shut up. Anyway, tonight I am wearing my cozy sweatshirt because it is spooky season and to celebrate, we will be playing Outlast and Jordan is here in case I faint from fear and emotional support.” Jordan snorted, “You’re playing Outlast when you couldn’t finish FNAF?”

The night was filled with screaming and panic from you while Jordan mostly laughed at your pain and tried to give directions.

“Go left! No, the other left!” They shouted. “I panicked!”

Throughout the gameplay, the chat was bombarding you both with comments and donations. “Cherrypickednightmare gifted 50 subs and said, ‘Please give Jordan their cut’,” Jordan read. “Thank you for the subs! What cut? This is my channel, Jordan is a guest. They are here as a friend,” you said without taking your eyes off the screen.

“I don’t think you did this well with anyone else on the channel, I think I should be compensated,” Jordan teased. “Your pay is my friendship and potentially more Olive Garden.”

With that statement, your subscribers sent more “gifts” and subs as you continued playing. “Mikeysleftfoot said, ‘For the Olive Garden fund,” Jordan chuckled. “Yes, chat, for only 9.99 a day, you can provide Jordan with a week’s worth of Olive Garden even though they only eat the breadsticks, but someone needs to order something so no one gets kicked out,” you teased in a fake serious voice.

Jordan seemed to have too much fun interacting with chat while you were avoiding being attacked by zombified asylum patients. “WHY DID I COME INTO THIS HOSPITAL ALONE WITHOUT A WEAPON? I’M A JOURNALIST AND NO ONE KNOWS I’M HERE!” you screamed while frantically trying to get your character to run away from the giant patient. “Y/N, Viledeeds87 wants to know how we met.”

“NOT NOW!” But you died in-game seconds later and huffed. “We met in kindergarten,” you stated. “No, preschool.” You burst out laughing, “My bad, I lumped the years together. We were on the playground, I got a splinter from the swing set, and Jordan walked me to the nurse’s office.” “I’ve been looking out for her clumsy ass since.”

After that night, your friendship with Jordan and Jordan themselves became a hot topic on your channel. “Someone said, ‘Why is Jordan so daddy?’ Relax, chat, or else I will not bring them back on the channel. Their head’s gonna get too big from your thirst,” you joked.  

Surprisingly, Jordan loved the attention, especially the reactions they could get out of you because of the attention.

“I should write up a contract to make sure I’m getting my proper royalties,” Jordan suggested mindlessly during a study session.  “You know I have a team of lawyers, right?” “Scared they’ll agree with me?”

But when your merch collection came out, Jordan was the first to model and post about it on social media. Their appearances on the channel were regular and fueled more engagement on your streams, which your management loved.

Your other friends offline couldn’t help but comment on it either, with Andre only being a little jealous of the attention Jordan got while Luke and Cate couldn’t be more supportive.

Emma and Marie proudly shipped you and Jordan. “You’re so cute together, I mean, it’s giving frenemies and will-they-won’t-they at the same time!” Emma insisted. “No way, there’s nothing there. Jordan’s my best friend and it makes sense that we would have decent chemistry.” “I may not be super experienced in this area but, they do not look at you like a friend, on stream and off,” Marie commented.

You thought your younger friends were nuts. If there was anything between you and Jordan, you would be the first to know. Sure, you occasionally got butterflies around them when they smiled in either form and you regularly bought things or sent them pictures of something that reminded you of them. But all best friends do that, right?

Then one night, when you should’ve been studying, you were scrolling on social media when you stumbled across fan compilation videos of you and Jordan. While a lot of them were funny, a few of them were on the shipping side.

For the first time, you saw how Jordan’s big brown eyes softened when you weren’t looking at them and how they were so quick to pull you in their lap when you tried to storm off in a rage-quit. Was this how they always acted around you?

As you raked your brain, you began to remember several moments where Jordan acted a little more than a friend to you but at the time, you brushed it off. Did this mean they liked you? Did this mean it was finally okay for you to admit how you feel?

[buzzcutlip]

congrats on 100 maggie that’s amazing!! 🎉🫶🏻

could I request carmy with a single!mom reader and they’re still kinda fresh in their relationship and with both of their busy schedules it’s hard to have any alone time and whenever they’re trying to have privacy for adult fun time it keeps being interrupted by reader’s little one bc reader’s daughter loves carmy and they’re both going crazy but also love becoming a new lil family. I just keep thinking about how carmy would be with a little kid and how he’d take over the role of a stepdad-dad 😩

Thank you! :)

I would like to say that I love kids and I worked in childcare for years. However, I'm not much into kid fics - rarely read them and never wrote one! Your prompt got me thinking so I'm sharing my head canons about stepdad!Carmy (explicit stuff behind the cut!)

You're so scared to tell Carmy you're a mom because you've started having real feelings; it's not just fooling around anymore. When you finally share that you've got a little girl, you're sick to your stomach with nerves, worried about the possibility of being rejected or ridiculed. But Carmy surprises you—pleasantly—by not freaking out at all. He nods and asks a couple of basic questions: "How old is she? Who's looking after her when you two are together? What's her favorite Disney movie?"

Carmy does freak out—once he's at home. He barely sleeps that night, thinking of all the ways the "wrong" in him or with him could rub off on the little girl once they meet. Because he's a messed-up grown-up who has no clue how to behave.

You can't keep putting off Carmen meeting your daughter after four months of dating. You can't, and you don't want to. It takes a bit of effort before Carmen opens up about his difficult childhood and messed-up family. You assure him that it's not going to affect your daughter and promise him that you absolutely believe he's a good person.

Your little one is almost four, and she's independent, sassy, and loving, so she probably understands Carmy's hesitation and worries better than you do—without Carmen ever needing to say a word. She knows he's a chef—a cook—so she takes his hand and shows him her own wooden kids' kitchen. Carmy's eyes are huge and glassy when he looks up at you, and you hold back your own tears.

The first time you witness Carmy and your daughter cooking together (not in the kids' kitchen), your heart almost stops. You know how sacred the kitchen—any kitchen—is for him, as well as the whole process of meal prepping. They're just baking cookies, from what you can see over Carmy's broad back, flour everywhere, and he uses the softest voice on her: "You make a ball from the dough, that's right. Well done, chef," and "You got it, darling," and "Good job, good girl," followed by a high-five, your daughter giggling, clearly proud of herself.

That night, you ask Carmy to stay - the first time while your daugher is at home too - and he agrees, with a soft smile and a chaste kiss to your temple. You're a bit apprehensive about having sex, anxious about your little one overhearing something or waking up in the middle of it, but at the end it's you who asks Carmen for it. You beg him with your eyes, your hands and mouth, and who's he to say 'no'? The day had been emotional and the remaints of it hang between you as he fucks you on your back, staring into your soul, reaching there with his cock too. You're kinda trying to hurry up, Carmy thrusting into you with sharp movements that make you gasp out puffs of air between the two of you. He leans in to whisper into your ear "You're taking it so well, you would take my load so well, would you want another baby, hm?" His words surprise you and make you so hot that you come with a startle the next second.

Fuck, Carmy Berzzato wants a kid with you?

[butterbabyflapjack]

Brat chapter.2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

sexual content, sexual tension, dominant ghost, power dynamics, messy feelings, voice kink, mask kink, glove kink, dom/sub, indirect daddy kink, biting, rough sex, begging, brat breaking, voyeurism, just a dash of possessive choking, forced eye contact, oral fixation, tactical gear kink

Taglist: @ahoycaptainautumn @your-highnessmarvel @wolfgalsniper @confuseddipshit @prettynalilgay @merzkihstuff @alfie2401 @emberwolfgames @willowbrookesblog @meujias @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @magicgal @verios @flrwpwr @jewelsisurmom @imjusthereforghostsmutt @circuskatt

Chapterlist: chapter.1

You’ve been acting like a brat, and Ghost has had enough of it.

“You can consider this punishment. Can consider it me spoiling your bratty behavior. But you wanted my attention, and you’ve gotten it. So tell me now if you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until it breaks, otherwise I’m taking what I want from you, and you’ll accept everything I give like the greedy fucking whore you’re pretending so hard not to be.”

He pauses, as if for your reply, though your tongue won’t move, your heart won’t beat; all of you tangled and drunken and warm; your stomach clenching almost painfully tight as you hear his hoarsened hum.

“I need an answer, love.”

“I…” you swallow, hard. Unable to deny that your panties are steadily soaking through for him, though still you somehow manage to stammer, “I’m not a whore you asshole…!”

You hear the smirk behind his mask. “You will be for me.”

Chapter 2

Authors Note: Guys, I don’t even know what to say, this is indulgent as fuck. Like, this is maybe the horniest shit I’ve ever written.

Thankyou to languidcryptid and tawus for betaing this! I really appreciate it! <3

Also, I used one quote from Ghost in here, because when he says it in-game my horny brain goes off – and if you know which line it is I’ll give you a flashy golden star~! *

ALSO also, be aware there’s elements of dub-con in this – not a lot imo, but just a heads up!

It takes a moment for you to actually obey him. Slowly closing the door behind you; barely removing your eyes from where he stands. Hearing its deafening click, and that sound alone speeds your heart. Feeling something in the air shift the very second you’re alone with him. And for all your unyielding obstinance, you’re still forced to swallow a sudden knot forming in your throat.

Seconds pass. Seconds that seem to last lifetimes, where the two of you merely watch each other. You, shifting nervously by the door, albeit with a stubbornly jutted chin. And he, behind his desk. Tall. Broad. Cut of wood. Watching you. Dark eyes running openly across your face, your throat, down your body. Before once again his gaze catches yours.

You wish he’d say something, anything. You can’t shake the way his eyes seem to sink hungry teeth in you, though you think you must be losing your mind, because he’s never looked at you quite like that, like he is right now – no matter how much you’ve longed for it. So you must be crazy right now, seeing things, making half-baked assumptions. 

“You know why I brought you in here?” he asks at last. Voice thick.

It strikes an electrifying cord through you, his tone, the gruffness of it – vibrating down your spine and into the very tips of your fingers and toes. 

You do know. Or, at least, you’re fairly fucking certain you do.

But of course you still lie about it.

“No.”

You hear a short, bearish breath; one that might accompany a clever smile.

“Ah. So you’re playing dumb, then,” he surmises, and his amusement at this fact has you bristling, resentful to be so easily read.

“No,” you reiterate, more forcefully, “I’m not playing anything.”

“You’ve been playing lots of things,” he counters. “That you’re fine, for one. That you haven’t been thinking about me a helluva lot more than you usually might, for another.”

Heat creeps up your face despite you fighting to stop it – and even though panic seizes your heart to hear him actually say that, and to say it so knowingly, you force your jaw to set rigidly. Because there’s no way he actually knows that you’ve been thinking about him… he’s just trying to get inside your head. This must be some intimidation technique he picked up during his time with the cartel or something.

Even as you tell yourself this, it sorta sounds like bullshit – but it’s easier to grasp than any other alternative.

“Of course I’m thinking about you,” you mutter, arms folding across your chest, “you’re standing right in front of me.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Drop the bullshit.”

There’s a steady calm about him, one that buries the storm beneath it, and it’s enough to still your tongue.

“I’ve let you get away with playing and pretending for far too long, apparently,” he says. “And with how your little act’s been falling apart recently, I think it’s time I finally stepped in.”

You don’t exactly know what he’s getting at, but it still manages to constrict your ribs. “Did you call me in here just to lecture me about shit you know nothing about?”

“I know enough,” he says. “I almost think you like making me act like your fuckin’ dad, dragging you in here for your lying ass to be spanked.”

The image of him bending you over his lap, spanking and kneading your ass, has you struggling just to blink for a few seconds before you somehow manage to shake yourself, arms folding tighter across your chest. And still a few flustered seconds more to muster up enough sarcasm to reform your defenses, willing yourself with every fiber of your being to both look and sound bored..

“So… are you going to spank me, then?” you ask dryly. “Is that it? Or can I go back to reading and the blissful ignorance it brings to your aggravating existence?”

His eyes glisten like shards of volcanic glass from behind his skull mask; penetrative, yet so difficult to read. “I wasn’t actually planning on spanking you, sweetheart – but that mouth of yours has its way of tempting me toward many things.”

The gravel in his voice has your stomach doing some sort of sticky-sweet summersault that has you swiftly changing the subject.

“Forgive my lack of foreplay,” you snap back at him, “but can you get to the fucking point?”

“I’m on point, love,” he returns, “regardless of how you keep trying to derail me.”

Slowly, he strides out from behind his desk. Dark eyes like arrows in you, piercing so deep you couldn’t hope to pluck them out even if you wanted to. And it takes everything in you not to jolt at the heavy sound of his approach. Not to run from his nearness as he carves through the distance between you. Forcing yourself to stand strong, instead, even whilst nervously eying him. Your arms faltering, unthinkingly, back down to your sides; fingernails scratching at the hemline of your jeans. Feeling very much like prey to a circling wolf, more and more hunted with each step he takes toward you.

His boots stop right before yours. Standing so close his shadow swallows yours. So close you’re forced to crane your neck even higher than you normally would just to meet his smoldering gaze.

“You’ve been acting like a spoiled brat.” 

He’s as brusque as ever. A growl threaded through his low inflection, making his words feel dangerous.

You try to swallow against the dryness of your throat. To appear completely unaffected by how his mere proximity threatens to make your heart take a running leap out the nearest window.

“If this is going into some kind of infraction report, sir,” you reply tautly, staring directly up at him, refusing to look away, “I’m not so sure spoiled brat is really the appropriate term you’ll wanna file with.”

“Don’t act like you give a damn about what’s appropriate,” he coarses, cutting your cheeky antics short. “I’ll only tell you this one more time – I’m no longer interested in playing. You’re in here right now because you’ve been lashing out like a bloody fucking brat all week, looking to get a reaction from people.” 

In his pause, you bite your lower lip harshly, only able to glower as you note the way his gaze trails heatedly over you. His voice a steady octave lower as he adds, “A reaction from me.”

If you felt like he was splintering his way inside your head before, it’s nothing compared to how you feel now. Panic freezing the soles of your shoes to the ground; eyes widening for just a fraction of a moment beneath how his own eyes slowly crease.

Eventually, after what feels like far too long, you force a scoff that lacks any of its desired weight. “You think I have an attitude problem just to get to you… ?” you wonder idly; wanting to tear your gaze from his, but finding yourself unable to. “My, that’s a cocky assumption, even for an ego as big as yours. I guess I decked Soap just to get to you, too?” 

You hear his little smirk. “No. That was just an added bonus. And I know you’re playing dumb, but you seem to be forgetting that I’m not stupid either, love.”

You’re so caught in the intensity of his gaze that you nearly jump when his large hand is suddenly on your hip, strong fingers curling into one of your belt-loops; tugging you close before you can even think to object, jerking you into him, so close your navel bumps into his groin, such is the height of him. And even with his gloves, your shirt, his jeans – the contact is electric.

“You’ve been acting like fucking brat,” his growl reiterates, “because some part of you wants to be treated like one.”   

You can’t move. Can’t respond. Heart throttling you, strangled in your throat. Your body stricken to stone as the tower of him looms over you, dark eyes dancing across your own. And when he leans down, masked face dipping low beside your own, you think you might actually suffer cardiac arrest as his voice pours thick and hot near your ear. 

“You’re overworked,” he murmurs, and even with his mask his words warm your skin, prickling you with fevered goosebumps. “High-strung for a million different reasons, I’m sure.” You feel his fingers, coiling, tangling further in your belt loop. Feel his thumb slip under your shirt, trailing the naked ridge of your hip. “And it seems it’s made you needy.”

It almost sounds like an insult, though he purrs it like it’s not. He sounds almost wolfish. Hungry.

“I’m… I’m not needy–”

“You are,” he breathes. “For attention. For release. That’s why you’ve been lashing out like a rotten little princess, right…? You want the sort of attention I can give you. You need it.” 

His fingers, curled around your belt-loop, slide instead along the front of your jeans, fingertips dipping down beneath your waistband, knuckles coarse along your skin. 

And like this he jerks your body snug against his, so close you can feel how hard he’s getting; a hard, thick ridge trapped within his jeans – and though you’d sooner die than admit it, heat floods your insides to feel him so aroused. 

So aroused just by this. By breathing in your ear. By feeling you against him, beneath him.

You feel his nose brush against your hair. Hear his thrum as he smells you, the ridges of his mask felt against your skin.

“I’ve seen you picturing this inside your head,” he says. His other hand smoothing up your side, thumb tracing the lowest curve of your breast. The fire of his touch threatening to ignite you, making all of you tense, and yet you can’t pull away, can’t even convince yourself to try. Needy, just like he says you are. “Me, taking care of you. Taking what I want from you. Teaching you how to behave.” His thumb rides up along the swell of your breast, squeezing it until you bite back a whimper, teasing your nipple into tightening for him even through all those layers of clothes that separate you. “Lie all you want to yourself,” he murmurs; the hard ridge of his erection twitching at those little sounds you fail to bite back on. “But you can’t lie to me.”

His voice is molten now. So dark, so ruggedly filthy that it clouds your every thought, slipping along your skin, pulling all of you toward him.

“You can consider this punishment. Can consider it me spoiling your bratty behavior. But you wanted my attention, and you’ve gotten it. So tell me now if you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until it breaks, otherwise I’m taking what I want from you, and you’ll accept everything I give like the greedy fucking whore you’re pretending so hard not to be.”

He pauses, as if for your reply, though your tongue won’t move, your heart won’t beat; all of you tangled and drunken and warm; your stomach clenching almost painfully tight as you hear his hoarsened hum.

“I need an answer, love. And I need it now.”

“I…” you swallow, hard. Unable to deny that your panties are already soaked through for him, though still, through the grace of some stubborn god, you somehow manage to stammer, “I’m… I’m not a whore you asshole…!”

You hear the smirk behind his mask. “You will be for me.” He thumbs the front button of your jeans. “And that’s not an answer. So let’s try this again – and this time, I’d advise you listen. If you tell me to stop, if you tell me right now – I’ll stop. I’ll send you on your merry fuckin’ way.” His possessive hand, squeezing your breast, slides instead up your chest, up along your neck, coming to grasp your jaw, to tilt your face to his, his eyes like anchors over yours. “Say anything else – anything at all – and you’re not leaving here ‘til I’m fucking finished with you.”  

Your lips barely part. The word stuck to your tongue. Stop. You should tell him to… right? If you don’t… Dammit, you can barely think anymore! Everything’s consumed by him, every inch of you aching, fingers itching to grab hold of him, anywhere, everywhere, as instead your fingernails dig angry crescents against your palms. But even then, even tongue-tied, even trembling, you can’t look away from him. A prisoner to those dark eyes and whatever their intentions.

You should say it. That one word, like a key that would set you free.

“Fuck you,” you hoarsely whisper instead. Words firm. Eyes wavering. 

His eyes flicker over yours. Calculating. Assessing. Before all at once he’s releasing the front of your jeans, tattooed forearm slipping around your waist, lifting you effortlessly up and off the floor. 

“Ah-Ghost–!”

He ignores you, though his eyes hold a little glint that could be amusement. Carrying you in one arm as he turns toward his desk, while impatiently brushing aside everything that sits atop it with the other.

Tactical gear, electronics, folders – a cacophony of valuable military equipment goes toppling to the floor, clattering noisily, the glass of some scope even sounding to break, but he doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving you. Chaos at his feet as he sits you on the edge of the desk, his giant hands encircling your knees, smoothing up your thighs as he spreads your legs for him, as he slots himself between them. Eyes like heated coals within his skeletal mask, so hot they feel to brand you.

“Ghost…” you barely tremble. Not sounding like you’re trying to stop him. Not even knowing��what you’re saying, beyond his name, beyond that hush of desperation in it.

A few, firm fingers draw up your inner thigh, and you gasp as they trace the seam between your legs.

“Choices have consequences,” he purrs.

“Ghost–!”

You hear his heated smirk as he unbuttons your jeans. As he unzips them. As he teases the elastic waistband of your underwear. “I didn’t realize I’d have you crying my name so quickly,” he murmurs roughly. “Not that I’m objecting.” When his rough middle finger finds your clit, even with your panties you still moan aloud as he strokes it, as you hear his breath hitch. “Though now it seems you’re speechless… Odd, when you had so much to say before…”

You want to say something, anything, besides his name again, especially since every time you say it you sound more and more helpless – but you can’t exactly help yourself when he slips his giant hand out from the front of your opened pants, ripping his glove off, tossing it aside as his warm, calloused fingers slip down between your legs again. Down beneath your panty’s waistband, coaxing along your folds, middle finger slipping through how embarrassingly slick you are already. 

It feels like you’ve been shocked, like you’ve been drowning until his touch made you gasp – every muscle in you seizing as you unthinkingly grab at his hulking biceps like your life depends on it, fingers twisting so tightly in his shirt it nearly hurts, winding just as tight as that coil in your stomach is, especially when you hear his voice again, so suddenly strained, his forearm between your legs flexing. His free hand taking hold of your waist in a grip that threatens to bruise, keeping your hips from moving as he strokes along your over-sensitive clit, fingers sinking, slipping up and down, teasing your aching entrance without actually dipping inside you.

“Fuuuucking hell…” 

Even with his mask, you can see the way his jaw grits. Can hear the tension in his words, pulling every muscle lining his neck taut. “This wet for me already…? Fuck…”

You can’t exactly deny it, though embarrassment bids you try, even as you feel your thighs tremble, as arousal ties your eyebrows into an agonized knot.  

“Ghost…!”

Fuck, it sounds like you’re begging. And he hums low, like a wolfish beast, like he knows this, like he loves it.

“Just the slightest little touch…” he breathes, circling the aching nub of your clit, and you whimper as your grip on his biceps tightens, “and already, you’re breaking. You really are so needy, aren’t you…”

“Y-you… just…” gods, you can scarcely string words together, “please, stop teasing me…!” you somehow manage to choke. Eyes stinging with the decided effort not to fall apart, this quickly, which you absolutely refuse to do with every fiber of your fucking being – he’s giving you enough shit as it is, and you can only imagine what he’d say, how he’d tease you, if you climaxed at barely a touch. But, fuck – fuck, you feel like you’re burning up already. Like every inch of you is fuel to him, tinder to his touch. Like even the smallest spark would set all of you ablaze. 

“But I like teasing you…”

You bite your lip so hard it nearly bleeds. “You’re a- ahh… a fucking prick…!”

He shuts you up by drawing firm, slick pressure along your clit with his thumb. Fingers sliding lower, teasing your entrance, enjoying the way your body tenses each time he does. 

“Had it with your fucking lip,” he says, his voice to rough it verges on a growl. Taking you by the throat, his thumb tilting your jaw up, his eyes catching yours. “I think we’re past the point of you pretending you don’t want this. So ask me nicely – behave – and I’ll make you cum so hard you can’t see straight.”

Your cheeks singe with flustered heat, not wanting to fold, to do as he says, to give him any sort of satisfaction in it. But as his talented thumb pulls a pinched moan from you, you can only resist for so long before you hear yourself giving in, hear yourself sounding perhaps more broken than you’ve ever sounded in your life.

“Please…”

You know he likes it; you sounding like that, you obeying. He doesn’t tell you this, but his eyes darken, his hold on your jaw growing tense. “Please what…?”

You hate him. Gods, you absolutely hate him. But your body, your traitorous mind – they no longer belong to you. They belong to him, and you both know it. You’re putty in his hands, too far gone to fight it.

You bite your lips closed as harshly and for as long as you’re able to, which pathetically isn’t very long, before you’re whining so quietly you almost can’t even hear yourself, pleading in a wavered string of breath, “Please make me cum…”

Desire smolders his gaze into something harsh, and he thrums his approval, the sound like thunder in his chest. “Good girl,” he breathes. Thumb tracing your jawline, your chin, your cheek, as he admires your pleasure-twisted expression. As he slips one thick finger inside your begging entrance; groaning as he feels your walls tighten around him in response. 

“Ohh – fuck!”

“Just relax…” His finger slips fully inside you, dragging back out again. Stroking, thrusting, as he slips in a second finger. A groan caught deep in his throat as you cry out for him, as your spine arches for more even as some part of you still resists, clinging to him so fiercely you feel your fingers might snap. 

“Gh-Ghost!”

“Stop fighting it. Stop fighting everything.” His voice is ragged as he pumps you full, thumb circling your swollen clit. “Let me in… let me take control… give me all of it, everything…” His pace quickens, his strokes more firm, pleasure squeezing your lower spine, sparking stars across your vision. Your legs falling slack for him as his hips nudge your thighs even further apart. His eyes like firebrands as he watches you crumbling. “I’ll make you feel good… I’ll take care of you…”

Not thinking, hardly even able to, driven only by need, your trembling fingers fumble toward the dark fabric of his mask; that portion which cowls his jaw and throat. And at once his body tenses, his instinct to react, the speed in which he does so uncanny – his hand on your throat snatching up both your wrists in a viperous grip, so swiftly you yelp in surprise.

His hand shackles yours. Eyes shining down at you like arrowheads. “Not happening, love,” he lowly says.

Apparently, he’s deciphered something you haven’t – whatever it was you were after in reaching for his mask. And it takes a few distorted seconds of you hazily blinking up at him before you realize what you were trying to do. That you were trying to drag it off of him. 

Hesitation scalds your face upon realizing. Your hands falling completely limp in his grasp, surrendering.

Of course he wouldn’t let you take his mask, why did you even try it?

Yet… even as you inwardly scold yourself, telling yourself you’re mad, you’re not thinking straight… now that you realize you wanted to kiss him, you can think of nothing else. 

“Please…” you whisper – not really meaning to be so quiet, but the words will barely come out. “I’ll do whatever you want…” 

Even then, it appears he hears you clearly, because you see and feel the broad line of his shoulders tighten at the offer. Though, still, he doesn’t respond.

“Anything, just… I want to kiss you…” You bite your lower lip; stomach clenching as you notice the way his eyes track your mouth's movement. “I want to taste you…”

His lashes grow heavy, gaze half-lidded as he studies you. Dark, thick honey stirring in his gaze, though in every other facet of his being he appears completely unaffected. His hold on your wrists rigid, unyielding.

“Wretched little minx,” he concludes at last. Lust edging with caution, as if you can’t be trusted, as if a kiss alone might be his end.

You purse your lips at him. “Please?”

If you thought you could weaponize your pleading to get what you wanted, you’re soon to find he’ll play just as dirty – weaponizing his touch to silence you, and quite efficiently, too. Stroking his fingers slow and deep inside you again, robbing you of everything but his annihilating friction, your all encompassing need; replacing all your words with whimpers. 

“Greedy,” he hoarsely breathes, pumping into you faster, curling his fingers with every stroke so that he drags against that spot which makes your toes curl, has you begging him for more. 

He seems distracted by all those desperate sounds you’re making, by the feel of your slick heat swallowing him up. Distracted enough not to decently shackle your wrists, even though you know he could, he easily could. But his hold still slips, and the second it does you reach to peel up his mask again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. You just barely raise it high enough to show his muscled throat, his strong jaw, that smart mouth, and the second you do his lips slam into yours, so fiercely you don’t even have a chance to look at him, to see those lips you long to taste, but you feel them, oh how you fucking feel them.; their plushness, their heat, their urgency in parting yours so his tongue can slip inside you, warm and yearning and demanding.

He tastes like honeyed whiskey; like black forest air warmed by savage wildfire. He tastes like someone you could become lost in. Could grow intoxicated on. And already, in a kiss, you’re drowning.

It’s too much, and you want more. His forceful, thrusting fingers. His slowly stroking thumb. His lips as they claim you, make you his.

Euphoric waves crash so fiercely against you that every sticky coil in your belly snaps, leaving you nowhere to go but crashing down, falling apart on his thrusting fingers as your lips fall slack; mouth agape against his as you whine and moan helplessly, pussy clinging to his fingers in desperate waves as you grab his nape, as you pull him closer, hips bucking against his palm as if to take him deeper.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips, maintaining a steady, brutal pace; his tattooed forearm a well oiled machine that never slows, deliberate in its friction. Dragging out the length of your orgasm until your lungs feel fractured, until you can scarcely even breathe, with his own breath growing heavy just at the sound of you. Both your panting mouths tracing across one another’s, lips and tongues just barely touching in the interlude of a kiss. And the very second you’re able to rake down a breath without sobbing, he cards his free hand up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, dragging you into yet another unforgiving kiss.

His tongue ravishes you, claiming every inch of your mouth as his. And when he pulls away again, it’s only enough to grab your jaw, to speak gruffly against your lips. “We’re not done here yet. So be a good girl and bend over the desk for me. Face down.”

You whimper as his thick, wet fingers slide out of you, but you’re left with little time to object, to say anything even if you wanted to. 

He takes your hips, lifting you off the desk, your tipped toes fighting for balance. His lips trailing to the corner of your mouth, back along your jaw, then down your nape as he slowly turns you into facing away from him. His large hands smoothing around your waist, before taking both your hands in his from behind, guiding them to the edge of the desk. His waist nudging into the curves of your ass, coaxing you into bending over it. 

One giant palm smooths down your spine as he presses you down against the desk's surface. Thrums deep in his chest, enjoying the view of you like this. And though you can’t see him, not with your panting face pressed sideways against the wood, your stomach’s still caught in sticky little knots, all of you weak for him, all of you so vulnerable.

“I’ve imagined what you might look like bent over my desk like this,” he purrs, his resonance jagged. “Daydreams don’t do it justice.”

He takes the waistband of your jeans and underwear from behind; rough, impatient; tugging them down over the curve of your ass, jerking them gruffly down your thighs, the fabric scraping against your skin with his harshness as he leaves them tangled around your knees. A shiver running down the full length of your spine as cool air kisses your soaked and swollen lips, so utterly exposed – a shudder so obvious that it makes him chuckle, his amusement thick.

Your breath grows sharp as you hear the shuffled sounds of his belt unbuckling. Of his dark cargos tugged inch by inch from the firm ridges of his hips. 

“You really have been a fucking brat,” he says. “And I have no intention of going easy on you.”

You can’t fight the temptation to try and glance back at him; attempting to pick yourself up just enough to turn around and look, though he takes a firm hold of the back of your neck before you’re able to, shoving your face back down against the wood as you choke back surprise.

“Still disobeying me,” he lowly observes, fingers tightening around you until you flinch; yet even then his dominion over you has your back arching, your hips squirming, has you fighting not to whine like a needy bitch in heat. “I said face down.”

You feel heat radiating off his thighs as they brush against the naked backs of yours, his hand keeping your face down. And you actually moan when you feel the swollen head of his cock nudge your lower lips, drawing a hot, slick line along their crease.

He groans as your velvet folds envelop him, the head of his cock just barely pushing through. Your body so warm, so wet, so inviting; your needy mewls tempting him to push in more, to fuck in deeper. “I love the way you sound like this… you sound so fucking good…”

You expect him to draw this out, to torment, to tease you, but it seems he’s robbed of restraint to. 

He grabs your neck and waist roughly as his hips flex forward, both of you moaning as he sinks inside you, your walls spasming, straining around his size – and it’s a damn good you’re so wet you’re actually dripping because otherwise he might not’ve fit. His cock’s built like the rest of him – thick, hard, massive – and the way it stretches you is almost too much to take, pain and molten pleasure sinking their teeth in you. 

Your moans grow ragged against the desk as, with a final ruthless thrust, he bottoms out; your eyebrows constricted in a knot, spine arching with the strain to adjust to him.

His hand round your neck relaxes, his other smoothing up the curve of your spine. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he growls. Sliding out just a bit, only to shove his way back inside, making you bite back a haggard whine.

“You might wanna keep it down, love,” he says, thrusting hard and deep inside of you again, his groin wetly slapping your ass as you yelp in pain and pleasure. “Otherwise, everyone else locked in here with us might hear you… and after hearing you like this, they’ll likely want a taste. But you’re mine. I have no intention of sharing.” 

He slides out again, slamming back in ruthlessly, like he wants you to sing for him, and you do, you weakly mewl like you’re wordlessly begging for it. 

“Then again… there’s no way they’re not listening to this, already. Not with you sounding like that. Not with flimsy walls like these…” 

His hips take on a slow, agonizing rhythm that leaves you clinging to the edge of the desk, gasping for breath as coils pull tight in your belly, so fierce they threaten to snap. Trying to contain every sound you make, even the sound of your erratic panting, though it requires so much effort you feel it might drive you mad. 

“Should we give them a show, sweetheart…?”

Under any other circumstances, you might think he was kidding. But with the way his thrusts gradually mount in speed, hammering deeper as his fingers dig into your neck and the plushy give of your hip, bouncing your ass against his groin at a rising pace – you’re oh-so-swiftly reduced to nothing but a needy fucking mess, and you know he’s not fucking around with you.

“N-No! D-Don't!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. And even with him fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked in your life, flustered heat still manages to burn up your neck and cheeks at the thought of what everyone would say to you if they heard this, heard you so pathetically unhinged like this; if they knew how Ghost had you splayed over his desk right now, making you drunk on his dick. 

But even with your begging, his pace doesn’t slow; the relentless creaking of his desk and the wet slap of skin filling up the room. And when you try to smother your own cries with a desperate palm flattened to your lips, he releases your neck to instead snatch both your wrists, wrenching them down behind you, pinning them to the small of your back as the desk rattles with his forceful thrusts.

“I think it might be a nice consolation for how you’ve been treating them all week,” he teases between heavy breaths.

“N-no, ple- ahh– Gh- don’t!” you gasp, words broken with his every thrust. “Ple-ease… don’t, don’t –!”

“You want me to stop?”

You don’t respond, you can’t; and you whine as you feel his heavy weight lean over you, your shoulders wrenched back tighter. His broad chest flush against your back back, pinning your shackled arms between you, as his other hand snakes around your stomach, guiding your hips up higher beneath him. 

“You don’t want me to stop.” 

His weight nearly crushing you, he ruts into you at a slower, deeper angle claws an elongated moan from your throat. His haggard breath drawing close behind your ear. 

“You want more. You need it.”

Even strained as your every muscle is, any semblance of composure cracking, his words still pull a shiver from you, your ragged gasps fogging the wood of the desk. 

“Tell me.”

You want to deny it. But with how delirious you are, how mind-numbingly desperate and near the point of breaking, there’s no way in hell you can.

“Y-yes,” you choke out brokenly. “I need it.”

You feel a rockslide in his chest as he groans; a noise teetering on the edges of self-control. Feel him nipping at your earlobe, lapping at the sting. His breath hitching at the end of every thrust, the momentum of his hips slipping, “You need me to break you in every way imaginable, to make you fall apart again, don’t you?”

Your climax is so close it’s almost painful; your eyebrows twisting. “Y-yes!”

He groans in your ear as his pace quickens; more forceful, hammering that aching place that makes you squeeze him. “Fuck – You make it sound so good.”

He doesn’t even have to tell you to keep going, you keep begging him anyway, you can’t help yourself.

“Please – fuck – Ghost–!” you nearly sob, “Don’t stop, please d-don’t stop, I’m so close–!”

When his tongue traces your ear, you can’t help yourself – crying out desperately, gasping out his name – knees buckling beneath you as your slick walls spasm around him, squeezing tight in wave after wave as pleasure consumes you, makes your lungs seize, makes your mind break. 

His momentum shatters; cock surging hard as iron as he sucks your earlobe between his lips, before his forehead falls heavy against the back of your neck, his length throbbing deep inside you. Groaning like an uncaged beast as he pours himself inside you with every haggard thrust, filling you so completely that by the time his assault slows, both your cum already drips down the backs of your trembling thighs.

You can scarcely breathe as your vision slowly returns. He can scarcely breathe, as he balances his weight on one forearm so as not to crush you beneath the mountain of him. And when he finally slides his cock out of you, cum trails like sticky, melted pearls from your abused hole to his swollen tip. His mouth warm, his lips soft along your nape, trailing your skin with lazy kisses, before his mask is pulled back down in place again.

“You’re a pretty mess,” he softly breathes. Releasing your aching wrists as he lifts himself off of you. Taking your hips firmly, helping you to stand, to face him, though your knees buckle the second he releases you.

His eyes widen as he takes your hips again swiftly, steadies you on your feet, before he lets out a chuckled huff. “Easy there, sweetheart." His eyes crease with what you suspect must be a small smile. "I should help you into a bath.”

Despite how nice any form of bathing sounds, and despite that you definitely can’t take a shower with your bones transformed to jelly like this, you still tense your jaw at him. The reality of your situation, of what the two of you have just done, slowly sinking its claws into you, along with all those feelings you’ve apparently been running from. 

You’re not sure you can run from them anymore, and the thought terrifies you.

This was probably just a quick fuck to him. But to you it's something different. Something much more tangled. Something that squeezes your heart into a glass-like, throbbing knot.

Fuck, what did you just get yourself into…? Why did you let this happen?

“I can get there myself,” you insist; not rudely, just… stiff. Uncertain.

Maybe he really has fucked the brattiness out of you.

As you shimmy up your pants and he buttons up his, you take a tentative step as if to brush past him, to escape this web of feelings you’ve tangled yourself in – only for your knees to wobble and give out again, with him catching your waist easily, pulling you into him.

“Alright,” he says, staring down at you. “But maybe you should wait ‘till your legs are working.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself blush at his nearness. At his teasing. At that way he’s hushly watching you.

“I can’t,” you murmur. More vulnerable than you’d like to. Your eyes passing beneath his own. “If we stay in here too long… people might suspect something.”

You can actually see his eyes crease with a slow and steady grin. “Love… I hate to break it to you… but unless you sobbing my name for the past ten minutes was because we were exorcising some sort of demon, there’s no way in fucking hell they don’t know exactly what we’ve been up to.”

chapter 3

Author Note: I might add another chapter to this next, where you’re forced into dealing with all the messy feelings you have following the famous ‘fucked on Ghost’s desk until you can’t walk straight’ incident ~ OR ~ I might write a Ghost/Soap/Reader threesome. If you have a preference lemme know! 😘~💕 thanks for reading

[starillusion13]

Thank You…

Pairing: Taeyong x f!reader

Genre: Idol au, slice of life, strangers

W.C: 3.7k

Warnings: none (but a bit emotional and talking to a stranger at night alone and also having self doubts)

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Guys my first ever Taeyong fic…I’m gonna cry😭

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

"Are you waiting for me...again?" your soft voice broke his trance and he turned towards you. His screen was on full brightness and he squinted his eyes to take a proper look of yours. He switched his phone off and nodded to your direction. You softly smiled at him and with slow steps, you walked towards the bench he was sitting on.

It's pretty usual for you to find him sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone almost every day. Not every-day. It was not the same before three months.

One day when you were going back home from your work, you were depressed and also a bit sad and you sat on the bench to feel the cool breeze. Sometimes, spending time alone by the river and letting your thoughts out with a sigh and inhaling the peaceful aroma from the surrounding is a blessing. You often went to this place whenever you felt stressed.

But that day it was different. You found something, rather you met someone for whom you felt the urge to go there everyday and to your surprise that someone would always be there waiting for you.

Three months back. It started back then. You still remembered his glistening eyes staring at you and his broken voice. He was crying. Tears were flowing down his eyes and his hands were gripping his denim tightly. He was talking to you. His words were directed to you. He was lost. He was hated. He was broken. He was alone. Except his eyes. Nothing more was visible. He was wearing a black mask and a black cap. You didn't know why he was wearing all those for hiding his face but still who were you to ask him that.

Why were you even concern?

"Take this." You extended your hand offering your handkerchief towards him. He stared at it for too long and his gaze moved up to your face. You smiled acknowledging his attention.

It was your preferrable bench and usually you didn't find anyone before in that place and with the thought of having a company that day seemed a perfect idea. But when you got the closer look, it was not the way you thought. It was pretty much more than that.

Taking the handkerchief from your hand, he clutched it tightly in his hold. You followed his movement and heaved a sigh before putting up a little smile and turned towards him, shifting a bit closer to him but maintaining a decent distance. You suddenly didn't want to creep him out.

"You can wipe your tears or do anything with it. You can take it with you. Its not containing chloroform though so don't be scared. Its pretty new and the sweet mint smell is because of a spray bottle in my bag. I gave that to you so that other people wont notice you crying while going back home." You wanted to cheer him up and rambled everything to not make you seems like a crazy person but you were doing worse for yourself.

You gulped when noticing his lost eyes staring at you and you pressed your lips into thin line and raised your brows.

"I'm sorry..." "Thank you."

You both said at the same time. You laughed off the awkwardness and he chuckled too. Your eyes went wide and you stopped laughing.

"Did you just laugh? Did I make you smile? Wait did you said some words like in my language?" you were on it again with your questions bombarding on him.

"Which answer do you want first?" he asked you softly. His voice was broken and rough. The voice was having a glint of familiarity but you thought that many people can have same voice.

You pout and pressed your back to the seat and leaned back to look up at the sky. You took deep breathes. He was watching your every moment as if he saw a human being for the first time. His eyes trailed down from your short hairs waving to the breeze then to your exhausted face and down to you clutching your bag tightly to yourself. He noticed a particular keychain, rather a bundle of keyrings. The view of familiar objects tugged at his heart.

"Are you tired?" he asked you.

You silently nodded and remained in the same posture, just moving your head to face him, "yeah...I am but am willingly to hear you. Really. I'm serious. You can say me anything. I mean no harm."

He nodded and mimicked your posture. You smiled at him for being comfortable with you.

"Do you come here often?" he asked you again and faced you but you were already staring at the stars. His gaze was fixed on you.

"No. maybe not often but usually whenever I feel for a refreshment or like to spend time alone, I come here to think about everything and sink into my thoughts to dive back to a life with no stress." You weakly smiled and a frown appeared on your face and you faced him. You were shocked that he was already facing you but still you raised your voice, "hey, you are asking me questions and am answering them all but you didn't reply any of my earlier questions."

He laughed. It was not just a chuckle but a genuine laugh. Your heart felt light seeing him laughing as if a wave of familiarity passing you again. As if this laugh makes you happy somewhere but you cant set it in place. Where? The only way of knowing his emotions were through his eyes and voice. He had boba eyes and those were shining so much under the moonlight as if all those stars were just locked inside his watery gaze which were on you.

"I was teaching you how to ask questions to someone."

He paused and waited for your response. You sat back up and glared at him and he got up too, facing you.

"Don't tease me like that. I was just trying to make you comfortable with me so that you could feel a bit better from whatever you were hurt......but I think I made fun of myself."

He patted your head, "hey it's okay. I was just joking. Its funny though. You are sulky like Doy- my best friend."

You laughed with him.

He continued, "I can laugh because I have emotions. I can smile too but just you cant see me now. I can feel every emotion because I have a heart to feel it. Just some people are ignorant that I am a human too. They point out my mistakes. I appreciate it. They love me. I love them back. I do everything for others but in the end, they just turn their back to me for a misunderstanding. I hope I'm speaking in your language because I'm not an alien." He sadly chuckled. A tear fell from his eyes. He wiped it off with your hanky.

You stared at him. What happened? Who are these people he is talking about?

"to the last I give them everything. Even if I'm tired and feeling to give up but still I want to do everything to see others happy. Just to see them. To see us. Happy. Am I really bad?" he asked the last question softly and stared straight into your eyes.

The question felt like directly pointing towards you. As if he wanted you to answer it. He was eager to listen to you but you just gulped. You didn't know who were the people he was talking about, why he was sad and what he was even talking about. Overall, you knew he was broken and hurt.

"no one is really bad." You licked your lips before continuing, "do you think I'm perfect. No. we can't be perfect in every way. Its natural for some people to love us and some to hate us and we should always focus on the good part. Look out for the people who are still good to you and trying to know the actual reason without misunderstanding you. If you only focus on the shining part, every other thing will eventually blur out."

"that's how you keep up with your life?"

"maybe. Actually I try to keep up like that. I try every day. Sometimes its really hard to live when you don't have any good reason to be motivated and only getting hurt by some worst reality. But thanks to some people who are cheering me up every day from afar without even knowing me. They never hurt me but heal me. whenever they get hurt. I feel sad. Oh yeah wait you should follow them."

" them? Who? They are really good people then." He smiled in the end.

You hurriedly searched for your phone inside your bag, your keyrings dangling and he was gazing at the familiar things again. He was both scared and happy to see it. He was unsure about his feeling because of you.

You typed something in your phone and your face was lit up to the light from your screen. You were so focused and excited to show him some people. He was curious to know who were the people you were excited about. he was glad that you had some people to make you feel happy.

"look...they are the best.." you scooted closer towards him. You didn't mind that his fingers were almost touching your thighs. It was nothing disrespectful and you were wearing a jeans similar to him and you were all focused on your screen than minding your surroundings, "This is NCT. My favorite boy group."

Three familiar letters visible to his eyes. N.C.T. so you were talking about them. He would have told you about his members in a similar way. They are really best. He thought that inside his mind and smiled to himself. His members are really best. They are his family. But is he good enough to fit with them? This thought lingering in his mind.

"so like they have so many members. Its pretty hard to understand them when you are new but gradually you will understand them and their different units. You will definitely love them. You know life is pretty harsh to us. We are hated and get hurt by others even when we ourselves don't know what we did wrong. But still we can be happy." You held his hand. "please don't hurt yourself thinking about them. Please be happy. Think of the people who love you. Who want to see you happy?"

"do you love NCT? Do you love them?" his sudden question made you blink twice.

"yeah. I love them a lot. They are my safe place after a stressful day. You will find a different world when you are with them. You will feel as if you have a family who loves you from a distance. Their smile, their laugh, their jokes, their voice, their moves, and everything is filled with a bond of love. A love of friendship. I really don't have friends who love them but a few online friends though." You stated but still deep in thoughts when you looked at your screen and scrolled down.

"Tell me..." you looked back at him when he asked you, "tell me about this NCT. I want to know about them."

"you can search it up on google NCT which is Neo Culture Technology. Wait I'm giving you some youtube link."

He held your hand, halting your movement, "no I want to hear it from you. I want to hear your perspective. I can search their group details and all from the internet but I can never search for your point of view."

"what do you want to hear?"

"everything. From the beginning."

You nodded and again leaned back but now he was still sitting facing you. He watched how you kept your bag between you and him and sighed, "I was in high-school when I found them. They were rookies back then and literal children like me, even though some are of my age. I wasn't a person of outgoing and party lover so basically I used to spend my time alone in my room and one day I found out a video on them. I reluctantly opened it and started watching it. Out of curiosity, I dig in the video and watched all the related and recommended videos. I searched about them everywhere. I felt as if I found a new family. I noticed that I always felt happy whenever I was with them, of course through a screen. I found a family and him. He made me love myself. He taught me how to be hard-working and be good to others. 'Never give up on your dreams. You can make it happen.' He guided me when I had no one. I am too much related to them."

"who is he? Member of NCT?" he asked you and adjusted his cap.

You nodded, "yes. My favorite person."

"What's his name? tell me about him?"

You chuckled, "if you were a fan of kpop and asked me this then I would have feel weird and thought you were asking me about my bias to make him your own bias. Hey, I'm just kidding. Well his name is Lee Taeyong. He is the leader of NCT. He was the reason I got invested into this group so much. He caught my eyes first because somewhere I felt his story of struggles personally. I saw how he fights his inner battles just to prove others that he is good. Sometimes it feels like he wants to prove it to himself more. I don't know him personally but I know his life is much more difficult behind those screens. But I want him to be happy like the way he makes me smile."

Lee Taeyong. The moment his name came out of your mouth. He was shocked. Previously he was shocked already for many reasons. Your Czennie keyrings, your favorite group is NCT and then he is your bias. And you described him in such a loving way. The way he never thought of himself to see. He often heard things like this from his members who are apparently his best-friends. But he never heard anything like this from other anyone in person. The person who is his fan.

"do you think he is a good person? What if he is bad and people starts hating on him? Will you hate him too?" he asked you in an unsure tone but you smiled back to him.

"As I said earlier. No one is totally perfect. Neither you nor myself is good. But we try to improve ourselves and probably he is fighting too. He is a human too like us. He is not a toy who needs to be perfect for us to love them. Their truths and different emotions and sides made me fall in love with them. I don't care what others think about him. But I will believe him till the day I find an actual reason to hate him. I will love him. I love him a lot." You smiled brightly.

You were smiling thinking of Taeyong. But the man sitting in front of you had tears in his eyes but there was a proud and thankful smile hiding behind the mask.

"you are pretty like your soul." His hand caressed your cheeks. You got startled with the sudden touch and he noticed it and quickly apologized.

"I meant that people who know how to love others are really pretty like you. I'm sure he loves you too. He deserves fans like you. He needs fans like you." His words were dipped in hurt. He was telling as if he needs you. You softly smiled.

“Well I’m just a czennie or also you can say a NCTzen from Neocity. I’m happy in this delulu world.”

“What’s delulu?” He was confused.

“You haven’t heard the world delulu? There is a famous phrase ‘Delulu is the solulu’ means delusion is the solution. I just like to be happy in my delusions apart from this reality sometimes.”

“Don’t you want him to love you back the same way you love him? Don’t you want to feel him in your reality other than being delusional?”

You unlocked your screen and stared at the lockscreen and he noticed that it was his picture with a bright smile on his face hiding all the pain behind it and feeling loved by all the fans which was brightly glowing in your phone. In your heart.

“I love him. I really love him but…” you smiled at the picture, “but he is for his fans to love him…even if I want to keep him to myself.”

You looked up to his eyes.

Your words directly hit his heart. He felt like he needed you all these times. You were like an angel who was sent to point out the good in everything. But as you said he was not yours in the first place. There are many others like you who are loving him and being motivated by him. He is their inspiration for life.

He is for his fans to love him.

He got a call from his manager and then you both parted your ways. He fished the hanky in his pocked and walked away with waving you goodbye.

And like that everyday you would see him sitting there waiting for you and gradually you became friends in few weeks and still you don’t know his face.

“It’s not fair how you get to see me and know my face but I don’t know anything about you.”

“It’s better for you to not know my face. And also we don’t know one thing about each other so let it be like this.”

“What?”

“We don’t know each other’s names.”

“Do you want to know?”

He shook his head, “no. Let’s keep it like this…it’s better.”

This became a daily routine of yours and today it was similar to find him at the exact same spot. He always waits there at the bench when you return from your work.

“Yeah I was waiting for you but then I thought you won’t be coming today and I was sad.”

He stood up and patted your head.

You were surprised to see him being like that but still put on a smile.

“Why were you sad? Because you won’t have someone to talk to? Well I am here now…”

He nodded, “I am sad but all these days I was happy because of you. I loved talking to you. But…we won’t be meeting again…I was here to spend few months holidays in my free time from stressful worklife but I had my best days because of you.”

Oh. So he is leaving.

“You are leaving……”

“Even if I’m leaving we will keep this memory forever with us. Our life is private to each other but we have a common secret. The secret of us in these 3 months.”

He extended his hand revealing a green coloured hanky. You creased your brows and stared at it.

“Why?”

“I heard that czennies love green colour so that’s a friendship gift for you like you gave me on our first day. I have kept it with me. The red colour was cute. And this is for you.”

You took it and today you were crying. You were crying because you felt someone ripping your heart apart or like he was leaving a blank space in your puzzle.

You noticed tiny stitches in a corner of the hanky. Three letters written in black L.T.Y. And below it with a small hyphen again three letters N.C.T.

L.T.Y.

- N.C.T.

“L.T.Y. Huh?”

“Love Thank You…” he pronounced each word with a space. His voice was like usual, a bit clogged due to the mask and sometimes it’s difficult to understand his words.

“Love?”

“You are filleded with love and purity. You are a love in person.”

Oh. Silly you.

“For a second I thought it’s Lee Taeyong.”

He followed your laugh. But then he told you to look up at the sky. You did as he told you.

“ if you feel like to talk to me ever again. I’m going to listen to you through those stars. I will talk to you like that too.”

You nodded and a tear dropped from your eyes like a shooting star of losing hope to see him again.

“Will I ever get to see you again?” You asked him in a broken voice.

You have never seen his face and also don’t know anything about him but still you got attached to him too much. Can’t you keep in touch with him?

“Don’t know but it’s better not. It will be better if I just remain as a part of your memory not your reality or present.”

Not your reality or present.

You nodded again.

Like everyday he got a call again after which he leaves in hurry. It was same for today as well but today’s farewell was meant forever. Before he could turn around after saying goodbye.

You hugged him.

It was a quick hug and you quickly retreated yourself and looked down after taking few steps back. He stepped forward and patting your head, he nodded.

“I’m sorry… but I felt like to hug you and I want to say Thank you before our last goodbye. I hope you didn’t cry again. You are perfect in your own way. People love you and I know you are a person to be loved.”

You love him too. It might can sound weird but it’s okay because as a friend you love him a lot.

“It’s okay I can understand. And….thank you to you too. and please keep loving him. Taeyong needs you to love him.”

Waving your hands to each other. He ran to the opposite direction to your home. You watched his retreating figure until the far your eyes could see him because you knew beyond that you won’t be seeing him again.

Thank you…

he was thankful to meet his fan.

After that whenever you crossed that place, you glanced for once in the direction with a losing hope and found it empty. You sadly smiled at it and looked up to the stars.

“I hope you are happy living your life somewhere…”

“Thank you, czennie.”

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 15. disciplined

chapter tags/warnings: someone becomes your special teacher ;) straight-up degradation. dick sucking and facefucking. spanking. pet names ("kitten", "slut", "whore", "idiot"). nonconsenual undertones. infidelity/adultery. strong language. humiliation. classism. can be read as stand-alone!

word count: 3.6k

notes: happy new year, dear readers! apologies for not posting in a while. not that i lost motivation or got writer's block, but i was so busy with my last semester at university. i'm thankfully done now! enjoy the update! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

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“Because I wonder what would happen once I spread you over the car hood and took you right there.”

Holy—  

Choso’s words stirred awake fantasies that never before crossed your mind—how you would be perched on the Corvette, how Choso would press your legs to his chest, how he would slowly fuck himself into you, how your warm cunt would eventually get the better of him, how his cum would then drip onto the shiny blue metal of his car.

As the mental images left your heart seized in your chest, you twisted at your wedding band in anticipation—a habit you had yet to break.

“You…wouldn’t actually do that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Although he exhaled to control his composure, nothing could hide the visible bulge under his black jeans, the sight sucking nearly all your willpower to avoid staring at the silhouette like a wanton whore.

“Because people would see us.” You then masked a thick swallow. “You would have to be crazy to fuck in public.”

“You think that’s crazy?” he repeated but did not seem insulted in the slightest. "Oh, I’ve done much, much crazier.”

Even crazier?

As much as you were concerned about the legality of his insinuations…That wild side of him, you wanted to see.

The thought alone left you holding your breath, blood rushing south when his hand began to run up and down your inner thigh.

The only thing that could distract you was how the inked ivy on his forearm flexed as he switched lanes, not that this new fixation stopped your squirming anyway. Still, you watched him swerve to the next exit and coolly navigate through a network of narrow and unlit roads, the convertible’s speed slowing considerably until he makes one final turn into an empty lot.

Choso, in one smooth motion, parked his Corvette in the spot where one could revere the Tokyo skyline glittering across the bay—although, in your honest opinion, the only view worth admiring was the stud beside you. The said man, however, turned off the engine and let go of your thigh, causing you to wince from the retracted warmth.

You nearly begged him to keep his hands on you until you watched him step off the vehicle, walking around the bumper with long strides to the shotgun seat, then gripping the handle and swinging the door open.

You stared dumbly at him, a gaze he returned with black-as-night eyes alive with some unreadable emotion. Before you could make any sense of your clouded thoughts, Choso leaned over slightly.

“Out,” he commanded. His voice had roughened up into a hoarse, his face shadowed with seriousness. “And get on your knees.”

The sheer egregiousness in his demand is enough to leave your heart stopping for a hard beat, especially since his height was formidable compared to the seated you. When you didn't respond immediately either, Choso’s long exhale from above grazed against your skin. He was losing his patience.

“C’mon now. I didn’t stutter. I gave you an order, idiot.”

Hands growing clammy, you avoided his stare. “But—"

Except Choso didn’t want to waste time dealing with your bullshit. He reached for you, his right hand darting outward and gripping your small wrist like a lifeline. Before you could even process much, Choso yanked you from your seat and essentially tossed you onto the ground.

You cried out as you stumbled and then fell onto your knees, hands instinctively planted on the concrete to support yourself. The new cuts on your palms would surely sting for the next few days, not to mention the red marks that his fingers also left on your wrist.

Although you try to stand up, the pain made you falter such that all you could do was sit up with your feet tucked neatly beneath your bottom. The gashes hurt, and Choso approached just as your eyes began to line with tears.

When his steps stopped mere inches away, your neck craned at an awful angle just to glare into the murky pool that was his eyes. “Are you insane?”

The jerk, handsome but enigmatic as always, shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So that’s a yes.” 

At that, a thumb thrust between your parted lips shut you up.

“Stop complaining,” Choso snapped, his voice the deepest and most demanding that it had ever been. His thumb shoved further past your lips, pressing at your tongue to keep you from talking, not caring how you were gagging on his finger by now. “I’m playing nice even after all the shit you’ve been pulling on me last night. I don’t see you whining with all those other guys you’ve been fucking. What’s the matter?”

Petty, you thought and then scoffed.

But Choso caught that.

He responded with a harsh pull at your jaw. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Rhetorical question. Choso already knew the answer, and his nostrils flared with irritation even as his free hand dangerously toyed with his fly.

“You know, I’ve been real patient with you, so show some respect, alright? My fingers didn’t even play with your pussy, but anyone could tell how wet you were in my car. And don’t think I didn’t notice you stealing glances at my boner earlier, you lil’ minx.” Noticing your eyes blow wide, his frown twisted into a smirk. Except everything evil about this felt so good when you caught sight of the piercings that gleamed by his ears. “What a dirty, dirty girl.”

So, he knew.

His comments were downright embarrassing—mortifying, even. Nonetheless, the humiliation stoked the flame of arousal within you anyway, possibly more so than you cared to admit. Choso was much more perceptive than you expected, which made sense given the skills he needed to assess sex-deprived clients during the day and stalk targets at night.

Therefore, when Choso eventually tore his thumb from your mouth, you thought that he finally took notice of your sorry state and pitied you.

That was until his other hand popped his jean button loose and tugged his zipper down.

You were stumped at first. With knees still pressed to the floor, you glanced at him from under your lashes, your lips puckered perfectly into a confused pout.

However, that confusion morphed quickly into realization once Choso lowered his jeans and boxers together, his large hands pulling the thick fabric down until the waistbands rested underneath his balls. His cock—thick and proud—sprung free and into the newly found freedom. Precum from the head oozed shamelessly down his shaft, the pretty pink tip mere millimeters from your nose.

Despite the depravity of this all, your heart fluttered at the sight, your stomach folding in sick anticipation.

Then, whatever premonitions you had were all confirmed with Choso’s one-word order: “Suck.”

Immediately, you panicked at the command. Just one glimpse at his twitching cock indicated that you would have trouble fitting that enormous dick any more than a few inches past your lips. You would gag.

Hell, you were sure to choke.

When a fear-filled lump coagulated at the back of your throat, you glanced up at Choso with your poor little puppy eyes, hoping that would distract him from his primal desires.

As if Choso would ever let you off the hook that easily.

“What?” he asked in the end, voice split between curiosity and impatience. “Haven’t given anyone a blowjob before?”

You decided not to answer; this wasn’t any of his business anyway.

Rather, you approached him meekly. When you wrapped one hand around the base, Choso hissed at the contact. His cock was already so hard, and from what? You had barely touched him, yet his dick spasmed from your grip, the foreskin sweltering hot against your roughed-up palms.

A harsh sting bloomed on your right cheek, only then realizing that Choso had slapped you right across the face.

“You’re losing focus, idiot. Pay attention to me.” His thumb prodded at your mouth again. “C’mon. Open up wide.” As he waited, he caught a strand of tousled hair between two long fingers, then delicately tucked the loose strands behind your ear. He peered down, giving you the sweetest sickliest smile a man can give. “You’re supposed to be a nice slut for me. Right, baby?”

Baby. He had you right there.

“Y...es,” you murmured. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you're suddenly too entranced to notice. "Yes...I am."

“Good. Then, I’ll show you how I like my cock sucked.”

What?

Before you could even process that last statement, Choso dug one large hand into your scalp. Messy strands now threaded through his spread-out fingers, he tugged forcefully at your hair—his warm fingertips pressed against your skull, his girthy cock suddenly shoved past your parted mouth, his fluids a foul bitter on your tongue, and his dark eyes wide at the moisture and warmth that sheathed him.

Tears, both due to the pain at your scalp and the burn at your throat, trickled down your flushed cheeks.

Breathe...

Even with your nose smushed against his crotch, even with your eyes popped wide open as you gurgled and gagged, you still had to breathe and soon the only other sensation aside from pain was that faint maple leaf scent that was so distinctly his.

“Oh...no, no, bimbo,” he hummed when you attempt to dig your nails into his skin, swatting your feeble hands away. “No touching. Bad girls aren’t not allowed to touch. Only I can. That’s what you get for not following my rules the other night. So, I’m going to hold your head, and you’re going stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me.”

Even if alarm bells should be going off in your head now, your heart palpitated at the prospects of what he just might do. Therefore, when you eventually nodded instead, Choso chuckled and muttered something about how you were always such a pretty little mess, such an ‘eager little pleaser.’

He had jerked off plenty, but there was nothing he loved more than having you completely under his control, fucking into your mouth with long and languid motions. He also loved hearing the noises that spilled from your mouth—the choked sobs that soon became garbled whimpers and breathy squeals.

Choso also always thought you were rather pretty, but when his eyes managed to leer downwards and saw what you looked like, mouth full of cock and spit dripping down your chin, he knew you’d never looked better.

For a man like himself, letting anyone see him this vulnerable was something that Choso had promised he would never do. Nonetheless, here he was...hamstrings tensing every time his tip bumped the back of your throat, fingers flexing each time his dick went in deeper than he thought possible. There was just something so different about seeing you on your knees, taking in his dick when his precum had already been bubbling from the tip.

“That’s right,” Choso hissed at some point, although you couldn’t tell how long he had been abusing your throat by then. Nothing aroused him more than to discipline with his dick and boy, did he love watching the way you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your saliva trail all over him. “Real fuckin’ sweet and obedient now, aren’t you? Do you follow directions this well for all those other therapists you fucked?”

You shook your head as his scrotum smacked into your chin, which Choso approved with a satisfied tug.

“Good.”

Muffled wails dropped from your mouth as he kept fucking your face, but he ignored you. After all, this was what you got for being so naughty. Plus, even if you thought his actions were entirely degrading before, the crazy thing was that you found this morbid fascinating now.

“Dumb, dumb puppy,” Choso chuckled when you unconsciously moaned around his cock.

As though to prove his point, Choso pulled his dick out of your mouth, marveling at how you whined at the emptiness. He didn’t want to keep you (or himself) waiting for too long though. Wordlessly, he pulled you up from the concrete even bewilderment riddled your expression.

“What are you—”

“One more word and I’ll make sure you won’t ever be able to use that throat again.”

So just like a well-behaved pup, you decided to shut up.

Once he led you to the front of the car, he slammed you onto the Corvette’s hood. As disoriented as you may be, he swiftly made a home between your thighs and manhandled you to his convenience—flipping you to your back, spreading your legs apart, hiking up the hem of your dress. After pawing at your pink panties, he finally pulled the fabric off in one smooth motion.

You didn’t know how or when, but you were utterly soaked. How embarrassing, the way your folds had lubricated themselves in anticipation. You unsuccessfully hid a shiver, not expecting the cool evening air to graze your sopping cunt.

“Fuck,” Choso groaned, liking what he sees. Nothing could hide the perverted glint in his gaze.

Holding you by your torso, he slid you halfway off the hood to roll his hips right next to yours. His cock bobbed as he readjusted himself, a few drops of precum landing on your skin. When he lines his cock with your slit, the face that he made when he finally had your wet cunt kissing his tip was obscene, but that was nothing compared to how your entire body shuddered in pleasure.

“F-Feels good,” you breathed, barely audible. You tried to catch your breath, clawing at his white sleeves and feeling up his arm muscles underneath in the process. How you wanted to hold onto him for dear life. “Feels so, so good.”

“I know.” He could tell from how you were practically begging for him to stuff you and, when he finally eased himself deep inside you, from how you would roll your eyes right to the back of your skull. He grinned. “So fuckin’ slutty.”

A choked moan dissipated from your lips when you felt the head pressing against your cervix. Soft, trembling...you were trying much too hard to be good. Nothing could compare to this utter gratification, his hard pelvis hitting your clit each time he forcefully plunged into you, sending waves from your abdomen up to your nipples.  

“Just like that,” you would say, over and over.

Choso Kamo would never admit this aloud, but he sure thought your kitten-like mewls sounded real cute up close. At the office, he had heard you moan and cry out before, but there was something nice knowing that he himself was the one making you feel this good. He sure doted on your cute expressions as well, the way your face would scrunch in pleasure, plush lips shaping into a perfect pout.

“Desperate bitch,” he said upon the soft plea of his name, although he was the one rutting through your folds like an animal in heat. “Always crying for people to stuff you. Such a whore.”

Fucked dumb, you nodded, not processing the shame of what he was saying.

“Yes, I am,” you hummed. If anything, his cold voice had only made you feel hotter. “Am your whore.”

“That’s right,” Choso sneered, your babbles the only words he had ever wanted to hear. “Let me hear you again. Don’t be shy—it’s just the two of us here. Keep acting like that, and I...I might just forgive you.”

Forgiven. You want to be forgiven.

Spurred by the possibility, you obeyed. An eager little pleaser indeed. Look at yourself, muttering all sorts of crude declarations until there was one that caught the therapist’s attention: “Use me like I’m all yours.”

Acting just like his little whore should.

Wholly satisfied, Choso picked up the pace, increasing his speed until he was hitting your g-spot with stunning accuracy. He anchored you by the hip with a firmer grip than necessary, making sure that every thrust would bring him back to the right place.

“Oh...” you sighed. Without looking, you could feel a mixture of slick and saliva trickle from you as he pounded harder—the juices sliding out from your cunt, down along your crack, and onto the metal underneath.

“Shit,” Choso mumbled once he caught sight of the scene. He swatted at your ass as a warning, ignoring your gasps in pain. “You’re making a mess of my hood. Messy girl with a messy cunt.”

How filthy.

Right when you were about to make more of a mess on the scene too.

With the familiar pressure building in your own lower abdomen, your teeth clamped your lower lip. Even that couldn’t stop the involuntary noise that eked from your throat—a whimper. But that was only because you were suppressing a pitiful melody of painful pants and sharp sputters in its stead.

“Choso,” you squeaked, nerves on fire at this point. “If you keep doing this...”

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso to pull him in, only for him to push you away. To properly admonish you, he slid a hand up your thigh and roughly squeezed at the flesh.

“Who gave you permission to enjoy yourself?” Choso snarled while you winced. He cocked his head too, which gave you a glimpse of his black ink-covered ink by his sweatshirt's collar. “This isn’t for your pleasure. This is to teach you a lesson.”

Before you could try defending yourself, he raised his right hand, which came down hard to strike at your ass. You yelped, so for his own sick reasons, he did this again and again and again until reddened marks littered your skin. What a nice color, quite appropriate for a naughty lassie like you.

After a particularly hard swat, tears started to prick again at your eyes.

“Stop! Please!” you cried out.

“Not until you show me that you're sorry.”

As far as Choso was concerned, all he wanted to do was discipline you—more specifically, break ­you—so that you would know to never mess with him again. He realized then and there that he liked to fuck you as he spanked you because he could never confess how much your pretty faces would egg him on.

“This is what you deserve,” he justified right as a large hand punished you once more.

“I’m sorry! I,” you gasped at another strike, but you...liked the pain? “I'm a bad, bad girl! I truly am sorry.”

As your stomach muscles tightened, your heels dug into his lower back and Choso responded with a low grunt.

His unforgiving thrusts were quickly losing their precision as well. At this rate, he might just blow his load earlier than he wanted to. He had originally hoped to pull out of your pussy and let you take his load down your throat, but he didn’t think that he would make it. That dick sucking earlier pushed him much closer to the edge than he originally thought.

“Think you earned my forgiveness?” 

You nodded. “‘M promising I won’t spread myself for anyone else again.”

This time, he slapped you across the face rather than your ass. “A complete fucking lie,” he scoffed, completely disappointed by how your tears were streaming down now. Weak. “Loose women like you can’t help taking more dick than they can handle. Right?”

“Yes!” you prattled, afraid of how else he would punish you if you disagreed. Not that he was wrong, per se. Steadying yourself, your small hands buried into his sleeves, watching how your juices were just pooling on his hood by now.

From above, Choso complained—something about how you were getting distracted again, but you couldn’t quite discern the words as a haze messed with your cognition. To bring you back to your senses, he delivered the most forceful blow on your left cheek instead.

“Just...Fuck...!” you screamed when the pain rushed straight to your pussy, causing you to slide right into a heated orgasm. The tight strings that had built in your stomach suddenly snapped, your jaw slacked as electricity shot from your core to your fingertips, causing you to twitch in uncontrollable ways. “Too much!”

Choso’s gruff grunt sunk into the night as you came around his cock, your puffy pussy gripping his length. He chased his own climax and dug his fingernails deep into your hips, surely leaving crescent-shaped marks on your unblemished skin. 

Knowing that he shouldn’t, Choso still peered down at the space where you’re connected, unable to resist the temptation. He riveted in the lewd image before his very eyes, your wet cunt still convulsing around his fat cock, the image far too much for him to handle especially when you’re making such a fucked out face.

“Take it,” he found himself saying unconsciously. “Take me, baby. Fuck—"

His words stopped short, whittling to nothing more than a low haggard rumble as he met his own end.

“Fucking take it,” was the last thing he said before he slumped over, pushing deep into you as his balls seized and released repeatedly, thick ropes of hot cum painting your inner walls with white.

Choked moans chorused into the evening, the sounds sucked into the nighttime’s void. For the first time this evening, peace and silence settled in, the heavy pants slowly giving way to even breaths.

After several more moments, Choso slipped out with a wet pop.

You blinked past the post-orgasmic haze, expecting to see him offer a disapproving look only to find that he was smirking. This man had fucking beautiful eyes, even when he wore the most mischievous expression.

Asshole.

“I’ll accept your apology. Since you’ve made things up for me.” Leaning over, he planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, his nicest gesture to you ever. He pulled his pants back on and then gently swiped a thumb over your bum, at a spot where the bruises hurt the most. “I won’t even hold you for the mess you’d made on my car.”

Flustered, heat suffused your face. "Thank...you."

He fished his Corvette keys from his back pocket, ready to pop open the trunk. "Let me return your little dress from last night, too."

"Thank you...again."

"Of course, baby."

Choso would never say this, but he was smitten. Look at how polite you were now, almost as though you were a changed woman. All that took was a little teaching.

"Then, shall we head back?" That was no question. That was an order. "I want Naoya Zenin to see you like this."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) choso is so mysterious in canon—and I LIVE for it. i did my best to convey that obscurity, dominance, and sexiness in his character here. 2) also, his blue corvette is a reference to that line in eiffel 65's blue. that 1990s song lives in my mind rent free.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @pulchritxde-blog @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan​ @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @nemoyr @tsukiyohanayome @tokyometronetwork​ @downtown-roponggi​ @the-cosmos-network

[1800-fight-me]

hello! Hope you’re good, related to your post about practice makes perfect, would you please like make something related abour reader feeling a little bit insecure about her height? Idk i think it would be cute to see how Aemond will react, thank you 🫶

Soothed Insecurities

Aemond Targaryen x Petite!Female!Reader

A Practice Makes Perfect Fic - This can be read as a stand alone fic or part of the series!

Rating: Mature- This is still not for minors!

Warnings: Allusions to sex but other than that it's fluff!

Word Count: About 700 words...it's tiny

Synopsis: Aemond has his own unique ways of soothing your insecurities.

Author’s Note: Please accept this humble offering as my apology for not writing as much lately due to the craziness of my life!!

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You were newly wedded and therefore still new to court. It overwhelmed you at times. You were not used to such propriety and elegance at all times from the people that surrounded you. 

It made you feel, well- rather insecure, you supposed. 

You did your best to project grace, you were technically a princess now that you married a prince of the realm, but you feared that you fell short in that regard. 

Short… even the thought of the word caused you to clench your jaw. 

“My my, don’t you look fierce, sweet wife,” Aemond said as he entered your chambers. 

You blinked in surprise and realized you had been lost in your own mind and stared into the flames of your fireplace as you clenched a book tightly in your hands. 

“Put a dagger in your hand, and even I might be frightened,” your husband teased. 

“Oh, my apologies, I was lost in thought,” you said quietly in reply. 

“What worries your mind, beautiful?” he asked as he sat on the plush loveseat next to you. 

His casual, yet carefully selected, terms of endearment should put your insecurities to rest, but still the words spoken to you today by one of the ladies of the court struck deep. 

A gentle hand on your cheek caused you to finally break your reverie enough to look at him. 

Concern was obvious on his handsome face. 

“I fear I do not belong in court. That I stick out like a sore thumb,” you murmured. 

His thumb stroked your cheek in comfort and reassurance. 

“Whatever could you possibly mean by that? You are perfect,” he said. 

You shook your head slightly and his brow furrowed even more. 

“Not as I was reminded so politely today,” you said weakly. 

“What?” he asked, his tone now sharp. 

 “It was pointed out to me that I am much shorter and considerably less graceful than the other ladies of court,” you replied as you nervously toyed with the threads at your sleeve. 

“Who said this? I shall-”

“It does not matter. It is the truth,” you said. 

He hummed in discontent. 

“Would you not have been more satisfied with a woman like the ones here? Y’know, tall, elegant, graceful….” you trailed off, your voice higher with emotion as your eyes began to sting. 

“More satisfied?” he scoffed. 

You looked down at your lap. 

“Have I not proved to you my contentment with this marriage and brought us both to satisfaction each night?” he demanded, his voice strong and passionate. 

Your face heated as you flustered. 

“Aemond,” you protested softly. 

He slowly pulled you onto his lap. As you settled yourself, he kissed you gently across your jaw. He murmured your name against your skin and kissed your lips once, soundly, before he pulled back enough to stare you down. 

You shrank under his intense gaze, as your opinion of yourself was currently the cause of his ire. Normally an intense gaze from him meant you were the object of his desire, not because he disagreed with you so strongly. 

“I thought I made it clear to you that your size is something I appreciate about you, little wife,” he said, his voice gravely and low. 

You buried your face in his neck and hair to hide your embarrassment at his insinuations. 

“And, your lack of grace from time to time amuses me. I am always more than happy to catch you should you fall,” he teased as his hands ran up your sides. 

You giggled then squealed in surprise as he flipped the two of you over so you were beneath him. 

“Do you believe me, my sweet little wife or do you need more convincing?” he purred. 

“Oh gods, maybe more convincing,” you breathed out. 

He smirked and kneeled before you as he began to push up your skirts. 

“How about we work on mastering what we tried last night,” he said as you pulled off his eye patch. 

You cared so deeply for him, this man, your kind husband, who soothed your insecurities and in the past had allowed you to soothe his. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you gasped as his mouth reached the most sensitive part of yourself.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Hold Him Close | Haechan Imagine #1

Title: Hold Him Close

Genre: Slight angst, slight fluff

Warnings: a very tired Haechan :(

Word Count: 597

Author’s Note: I’ve seen some people write similar stories, and I’m really glad people are using their creativity to do that. I’m sure a lot of you are also upset with how overworked Mark and Haechan have been lately. As someone who is pissed off about the situation, I wanted to write this story for him. I wish I could do more to show my support and wish for them to get some rest. As of now, I’m afraid this is all I can do. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

Also thank you so much for 300 followers ㅠㅠ

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

After the fifth yawn, you started to think that staying up until two a.m. to get ahead on university homework wasn’t the best idea. You sighed and glanced over the papers of notes scattered around the coffee table. For the past few hours, you’ve been sitting in the same spot working on several assignments for different classes. Now you were down to your last drop of energy. Strangely, you weren’t too bothered by that. Despite the lack of sleep, you appreciated the cozy silence of your studio apartment. 

The doorbell buzzed just as you were contemplating whether to retire for the night. You didn’t even need to look at the camera monitor to know who it was. Springing up from your seat on the floor, you quickly crossed the room to answer the door.

As soon as you let him in, he practically collapsed onto you.

“Hyuck?” Your voice was a mix of surprise and slight worry. He snuggled into your neck, taking in your scent and warmth. You decided to refrain from asking questions and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Neither of you said anything and stayed in this position for a few minutes. Haechan didn’t know what to expect when he showed up at your place at such a crazy hour. He wasn’t even sure you were awake when he finished his schedule half an hour ago. All he knew was that he wanted to see you.

Eventually, you pulled away and cupped the tired boy’s face in your hands. Seeing the messy hair and dark circles under his eyes triggered a renewed emotion of outrage. Usually, you hold that feeling back. But you’ve seen Haechan in an exhausted state too many times to count. A part of you wanted to march up to the SM building and tell off the company for overworking your boyfriend.

“Aish, I hate seeing you like this.” 

The heartbreak in your tone, made his heart ache too. His left hand reached to intertwine with yours that rested on his cheek. He looked into your eyes which had become glossy from angry tears that threatened to fall any second. Feelings of guilt arose in his chest. He didn’t mean to make you worry.

“It’s okay, Jagiya. Work gets tiring sometimes, but I can handle it.” His words did little to put you at ease and he knew it. 

He then leaned forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead. Being in your presence alone made him feel so much better. As if he could take on anything the world threw at him.

“I’m sorry for coming in like this. But I could really use your cuddles right now,” He said, still managing to smile through all this.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. After removing his shoes, you brought him to lie down in bed together. Final exams, projects, and work were momentarily forgotten. Donghyuck held you close to him, his chin resting atop your head. While your fingers gently stroked his back, hoping to help him sleep faster. 

Just before sleep overtook you both, he made sure to whisper, “I love you, (Y/n). Thank you for being with me.”

 A dozen emotions filled you all at once. So many things that you wanted to say. Instead, you returned his forehead kiss from earlier and gave the response he needed to hear.

“I love you too, Donghyuck. Forever and always.”

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

[blu-joons]

When Their Foreign Partner Gives Birth In Korea ~ Super Junior Reaction

Leeteuk:

A hand brushed through your hair as Jeongsu perched on your hospital bed just beside you. “What’s on your mind?” He quizzed, noticing you staring off into the distance as if you were in a world of your own.

You gave yourself a moment before looking at Jeongsu. “I’m just thinking about how much I wish my family were here with us right now.”

“It must be tough for you,” Jeongsu smiled.

“I just wish they’d been able to come and see us at some point during my pregnancy,” you finally admitted, “I didn’t want it to just be the two of us.”

Jeongsu moved his arm around you, “I wish they were here too.”

“Not all of your family have been able to see us either.”

“You can’t compare my situation to yours,” Jeongu assured you, “my family can get here in a heartbeat if we need them.”

“I think my mum worries sometimes that your mum is around so often, and she’s not,” you confided nervously in Jeongsu.

His heart sank as you spoke, “I’ll make sure that all of your family feel as involved as they can be, just like my family.”

“They’ll be alright, it’s just a lot.”

“We’re all overwhelmed right now.”

Heechul:

Your smile was wide as Heechul encouraged you to pose, holding his phone up and taking a photo of the three of you. “What do you think?” Heechul asked you as he loaded up the photo so that you could take a look.

You nodded approvingly straight away, “my family will be printing that straight away and sticking it up on the fridge at home, I promise.”

“It’s our first family photo,” Heechul noted.

“It’s adorable,” you chuckled as Heechul began to send the photo to your family. “They’re not here, but this feels as good as having them here with us.”

Heechul watched you closely, “they’ll come and visit us soon.”

“I know, we’ve not got too long to wait for them now.”

“Just think when they get here we’ve got babysitting sorted for the week,” Heechul suggested, bringing a laugh out of you.

“I can’t wait to sleep when they come over,” you agreed, taking Heechul by surprise, “we can just rest and let them take control.”

As Heechul placed his phone away he nudged against your side, “they’ll go crazy if we leave them to babysit you know.”

“They’re my parents, I’ll sweet talk them.”

“I like your style.”

Yesung:

You smiled appreciatively across at Jonghoon as he picked up a tissue and wiped underneath your eyes once again. “Don’t fret,” he told you, knowing that you were starting to feel guilty for getting so teary.

A faint chuckle came from you as you tried to get comfortable on your hospital bed. “I didn’t think I was going to cry, how wrong was I?”

“It’s an emotional time,” Jonghoon assured you.

“I didn’t think giving birth would get to me like this,” you confessed, shaking your head, “let alone getting all of these texts from my family missing me.”

Jonghoon nodded back to you, “I bet they’re missing you.”

“I can just picture my mum sobbing reading all these.”

“I’ll make sure to keep them updated,” Jonghoon assured you, “I can’t imagine you being on your phone for much longer.”

“Don’t remind me of what’s to come,” you joked, “it’s bad enough already without knowing they’re all not here too.”

Jonghoon’s smile turned up as he took a hold of your hand, “even if they’re not here, I’m here and I’ll support you Y/N.”

“I’m super lucky that you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Shindong:

A sigh escaped from you as you heard a knock at the door of your suite, glancing across at Donghee. “Who’s here? I thought we asked to make sure that no one interrupted us,” you told him, hanging your head.

Donghee stood up from your bed, making his way across to the suite door. “I’ll have a look and see who it is, I’m sure they’re harmful.”

“Tell them to go away,” you responded.

“That’s not very nice,” a familiar voice told you as Donghee opened up the door, “we’ve travelled halfway around the world to be here for you Y/N.”

Your eyes lit up straight away, “what are you guys doing here?”

“We couldn’t let you give birth all by yourself, could we?”

“I can’t believe it,” you laughed as your mum and dad both rushed to either side of your bed, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Surprise,” Donghee smiled as he hovered back to give you a few moments with your family, relieved to see your wide smile.

Your eyes flickered to Donghee as he spoke, shaking your head in disbelief. “Did you really organise this, just for me?”

“Of course, anything to help you.”

“You’re the best, thank you.”

Eunhyuk:

You both stared down at your son in your arms, with Hyukjae leaning against your shoulder. “He’s definitely got your mum’s nose,” he commented, being able to recognise the similarity straight away between them.

You nodded in agreement with Hyukjae as you studied your son closely, “we’ve cursed him already for having to share a nose with my mum Jae.”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Hyukjae chuckled.

“I can’t wait to show her, we’ll never hear the end of it once she sees him,” you told Hyukjae, turning to face him with a wide smile etched on your face.

He nodded back at you, “just think if she was here in person instead.”

“That’s one good thing about being so far away from them.”

“She wouldn’t let you go,” Hyukjae laughed as he looked at the empty chair beside you, “I’d be useless if she was here.”

“You know what she’s like, always worrying,” you reminded him. “Remember what she was like when I came over for the first time.”

Hyukjae chuckled as he recalled the memory, “there’s no way when she met me she thought I’d father your children.”

“Honestly, she thought you were so strange.”

“But that’s why you love me.”

Siwon:

Your eyes lit up as Siwon sat on the end of your bed hearing familiar voices coming through the phone. “Mum! Dad!” You cheered, leaning into Siwon to make sure that you were in frame and seen by them.

Siwon moved so that you didn’t have to, turning the phone around. “Do you guys want to meet your granddaughter?” Siwon excitedly asked them.

“Let me see, let me see,” your mum grinned.

“Here she is, nice and cosy,” you told them, tilting your arms so that your parents could both see the baby that you cradled so tightly in your hold.

Their smiles were wide as they looked on the screen, “she’s beautiful.”

“Everyone’s doing really well, and only a few tears from Y/N too.”

“Hey,” you jokingly snapped, nudging against Siwon’s arm, “I’m sure no one can blame me for getting upset with all that pain.”

“She was a superstar,” Siwon quickly reassured your parents, watching their smiles light up as they kept looking at your daughter.

As they did, Siwon pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “We can’t wait to come over and see the three of you soon.”

“The three of us, that sounds so weird.”

“You’ll get used to it Y/N.”

Donghae:

The dampness in his shirt broke Donghae’s heart as held onto you, running his hand along your back. “Let it all go,” he whispered closely into your ear, knowing that your emotions were all over like a rollercoaster.

After a few moments you finally pulled away from him, “I’m sorry, this is supposed to be a happy time for us, not a time for me to get upset on you.”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Donghae told you.

“Throughout this whole pregnancy I’ve survived, but now it’s finally happening. I wish they were here,” you replied, wiping under your eyes.

Donghae kept a close eye on you, “I wish they were here as well for you.”

“You don’t need to feel bad for me, you’re missing people here too.”

“But my people are here, they don’t have to catch flights or pack suitcases to travel for hours,” Donghae reasoned in reply to you.

“They wouldn’t want me to cry,” you whispered to yourself, trying to find the motivation to stop yourself from tearing up.

Donghae moved his arm around you as you pulled away from his chest, “I’ll give them a text let them know that you’re alright.”

“You’d really do that for me, Donghae?”

“Of course I would Y/N.”

Ryeowook:

As yet another contraction subsided, Ryeowook moved closer to your side, letting go of your hand. “Everything good?” He quizzed, running his hand over the top of your head to push your hair away for you.

The pause that came from you told Ryeowook a lot. “I know that you’re here but I feel so alone right now, like someone should be on my other side too.”

“You wish your parents were here?” He asked you.

“More than anything,” you admitted, letting go of a sigh as you threw your head back. “They don’t tell you about this bit when you move abroad.”

Ryeowook offered you a weak smile, “no one thinks of the downsides.”

“I shouldn’t be thinking of this as a downside, I mean we’re having a baby.”

“It’s human to miss people during important times in your life,” Ryeowook smiled back at you, “I feel bad that my family are here.”

“Please don’t feel bad,” you asked him, resting against the palm of his hand, “I’m so grateful for all they’ve done for the two of us.”

The pad of Ryeowook’s thumb brushed against your cheek, “we’re all wishing that both of our families could be here right now.”

“Hopefully it won’t be too long to happen.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

Kyuhyun:

You smiled softly as your daughter was taken away by the midwives leaving you and Kyuhyun along at your bedside for a while. “How are you feeling?” He asked, leaning across and taking a hold of your hand.

Your shoulders shrugged as you met Kyuhyun’s eyes, “it’s been a while since I felt homesick, but I’m really feeling homesick right now, it’s not the same.”

“They’ll be awake soon, right?” Kyuhyun quizzed.

“In an hour perhaps,” you told him as you glanced at the clock. “I can’t wait to wake them up with the best news ever, they’re all going to be so excited.”

Kyuhyun nodded in agreement with you, “I bet they’ll be missing you today.”

“This is the sort of moment where they should be here, not so far away.”

“We’ll be able to tell them all about this moment soon enough,” Kyuhyun tried to reassure you, “they’ll be on the first flight over.”

“I never imagined myself settling down in a foreign country,” you confessed, taking Kyuhyun by surprise, “this feels like a dream.”

He continued to watch you as you sniffed the tears back once again, “I never imagined myself being in this position either you know.”

“Would you change anything about right now?”

“Not a single thing.”

---

Masterlist

[lovely-amora]

To be Aware of the Storyteller (pt3)

Part3

She ran to him. The dirt stuck to her feet and the sweat made the new outfit stick to her skin. Her tail trailed behind her, hitting away at the air. For the first time, her senses felt overwhelmed. The sounds of the leaves rustling, the smell of the wet air, and even the feeling of the wind against her body.

Even so, the feeling slowly faded away from her. She knew this form wouldn’t hold but she knew she had the time.

The sound of a fire crackle, the smell of smoke. She found the camp.

She carefully walked along the edge of the camp. People may have been sleeping but she didn’t wish to bother them.

The familiar red tent, the flap being closed. She went to push aside the flap but a dagger had suddenly came into contact with her neck.

“Who are you?”

She stood still. Could this body hurt? Could this body feel pain as much as she could feel the hope in her heart?

She froze as the word vomit rose. The force that made her speak the story.

“He held the dagger closer. Every breath could be felt on the blade but none cut the neck of this stranger.”

Astarion pulled the dagger away. She turned around, she saw that he recognized her voice. She was right. He saw and hear her when no one else could.

“Hello…you’re vampire spawn, Astarion.”

The goddess didn’t know what to do. Fear for what may happen when he finds out that she knows about every possible thing that may happen to him. Excitement for going down a path that is unknown even to her. Too many emotions for her to process.

“By that orb! That was you!”

Astarion turned as the sound of Gale’s nonsense muttering could be heard not too far off. Gale paused as he looked at Astarion.

“What in gods name are you doing?”

Astarion glanced at the goddess next to him. Astarion knew the truth would be crazy but maybe just crazy enough to leave him alone,

“Speaking to a god?”

“And here we are with the trickery.” Gale rolled his eyes and walked on. Astarion seemed confused. Could Gale not see the spectral being that stood with them? Astarion brushed by the goddess and laid in his bed.

“What are you doing?” She tilted her head confused.

“Maybe if I sleep, this will be a dream and I’ll awaken with a clearer mind.”

He stared at the goddess. Her face pained with curiosity and confusion. Like a cat in a brand new area. He hated how he felt inclined to pat her head. He saw her as a much more dangerous cat. Maybe just a kitten but she still had fangs and horns.

Suddenly her hands started to fade. Her feet slowly turned to a white glow as they faded.

“I’m losing touch. This must be a short lived process.” Her face was clear with dismay and disappointment. Astarion was astonished at how clear her emotions could be read. He’d never met anyone who appeared so careless and carefree. Let alone outright upset. Like a child who had lost their best friend.

“I’ll be watching you, Astarion. I do hope we can be friends. Feel free to speak freely! I’ll always be here.”

Her body faded away, the only way to recognize she was ever there were the faint twinkles of glittering stars that drifted into the wind.

The gods had never responded to his prayers. His pleas. Him begging at their mercy. And yet a goddess who seemed akin to a child had wished to be around him?

“The world has truly gone to the hells.”

[lillylvjy]

Will we ever learn (we’ve been here before)

A/n// hi! How are you all? I haven’t written in a while and this is a scrapped piece. Yes I posted it before but I got so much shit for it, I took it down. But second times the charm right? This fic is something I went through in Wilbur’s perspective. So everything I wrote is all something that happened to me. I hope you all enjoy! And please tell me if I should just take it down :)

Warnings// cheating, yelling, swearing, pure angst, reader being a dumbass of a person, please tell me if I missed anything! (Please don’t read this if any of those make you uncomfortable or upset!!!!!! Please!!!)

What the hell is wrong with you?

Why did you do it again?!

Goddamn it!

You needed something. You needed someone. So you went out and found someone. But one thing led to another and shit happened. You woke up in a random guys apartment, clothes thrown everywhere and hungover. ‘What the fuck happened last night’ you thought to yourself. Then it all came back like a flash. Your eyes widened and scurried to put your clothes back on and leave the guy alone.

Shit shit shit shit! What the fuck did you do?

When you got back to your and Wilbur’s apartment, he was sitting on the coach, straight faced and looking at the wall. No emotion was shown when you stood in front of him. Before you could talk he cut you off.

“Don’t say a fucking word. Don’t try to deny it. Don’t try to fucking get yourself out of this one like last time. I’m done. What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He voice cracked. His eyes glistened with tears as he looked at you.

You shook your head. “No Will please listen. It was an accident! You weren’t home and I needed to be around people. I went to the bar and I got drunk and met someone. I didn’t know what was happening and it just happened. Please! Don’t leave me.” You said, crying and pleading at him.

He shook his head and stood up. “No. You meant it. If you meant it the first time, you mean it now. Why does it matter if I’m home or not?! You shouldn’t do it. It’s fucking disgusting and so very wrong of you. You did it twice. Twice y/n!! What the fuck did I do? Did I not love you enough? Was I not good enough? I don’t fucking know. You won’t ever fucking tell me!” Wilbur said, sobbing and walking to your shared bedroom.

“You want me to tell you. You’re never fucking home Wilbur! You’re always out doing god knows what while I’m here, waiting for you to show me some ounce of acknowledging!” You yelled at him.

He looked back at you like you were crazy. “What the fuck. You want to know what I’m doing? I’m out, making music, writing songs about you, and making money so we could, I don’t know, possibly move into a bigger place?! And what are you doing huh? Sitting on your ass, waiting for me to do something with you and when you’re not satisfied, you go on to another guy a week or two later.” He said back to, every word spit with venom. You just looked at him speechless. “Huh. Yeah, and I don’t show you an ounce of acknowledgment. I’m leaving and never coming back. Don’t contact me. Don’t try to find me. I don’t want anything to do with you.” He said, grabbing a bag filled with his clothes and all his other things.

You started to panic. No this can’t be happening. No he can’t leave! You need him! “No! Will! Please! I need you! Please! We can start over. I’ll do anything, everything can be perfect! Just please don’t leave me!” You pleaded and sobbed at him as he walked towards the door.

Wilbur dropped the spare key on the kitchen table before turning back to you. “You hurt me. One too many times. But that was the last time I come back to you. I deserve more than this. And I hope one day you can find a guy who cares for you and can do everything you want him too. Just don’t treat him like you did to me. Or your life with be a pile of shit.” He said the last sentence, and it was like a sword went through your heart. He wiped his face and left.

You threw your body against the wall for support as you sobbed. You fell down the wall, and hugged your knees to your chest.

What the fuck did you just do…..

The one person who actually cared about you.

And you fucked it all up.

Tag-list// @deadphantomsociety @aimi-chann @jadeissues @art3m1s-adelia @z0vamp @romancingdaffodils (if you want to be added please tell me lovelies <33)

[griancraft]

Ok as per my last post. This is Long and very much about my feelings so uh don’t read it if you don’t want to. Also I’m aware I sound genujneky crazy for half of this I’m just really really mentally ill in ways I don’t talk about here at all and now I am sharing them and it’s. A little scary but oh well. The system stuff is the stuff I’m most concerned about right now to be honest bc it effects my day to day and if anyone has any kind words or thoughts on what to do I’ll be happy to listen

Please read my previous post if you’re mad /gen I don’t think I say anything bad here but I have really bad morality ocd so like uhm I am scared to post this!!! Prev post

Also I’m very sorry that the prose is terrible to read and my spelling is shit I have dyspraxia which is a coordination thing and it’s worse rn

The maybe I was boring album came on yesterday while I was cleaning and I had to stop what I was doing and turn it off halfway through because I just couldn’t stop hearing an admission. I wasn’t even sad I was just. So done with it. I still am just kinda like. God I hope Shelby is doing ok with all this being public now. I’m glad she was able to heal like she said and I’m glad she made the video dude.

I almost got his lyrics tattooed if that’s testament to how much I loved his early music. It’s not connecting in my brain that this music that’s been apart of my life for like 4 years and helped me through so much was made by an abuser.

But like, in retrospect you can see it. I can’t bear to delete ycgma off my mp3 player bc I related to his songs so much as an abused lonely teenager but I also can’t bare to listen to it. I learned the fall on my guitar as my final exam and I used to repeat his lyrics to myself to cope with abuse and I wish I could still love these songs. I dressed like his dsmp character bc I thought it made me look cool. Which is lame as fuck to admit now lol

Originally I was planning on pirating them and I like, can’t especially after that manipulative ass statement. How much was an act? I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m a bad person because I still kinda do want to listen to that music again. I still want to feel that safe but I know I won’t feel that way anymore.

with dsmp stuff I think I’m going to be still able to look back fondly on it generally and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. The community was what made it and the community is what I loved, and i still do. I don’t think I’m going to reblog art of him specifically but if he’s in it I might. Idk. My policy on dream fanart is if he’s not alone in the art and it’s dsmp or mcc related I reblog so I guess I’ll continue that here. Im sorry if that sounds callous I just. Am not prepared to talk about this so I’m going back and forth

And like. We also have a wilbur factive/fictive and we have for years now and nobody in our system knows how to feel about that. He formed to fill the role of a big brother (I was being heavily emotionally neglected at that point and needed someone to be there for me) and protector from my parents abuse. Obviously, he is entirely separate from his source now bc alters change a lot for me but how we picture him is still wilbur. he’s literally just some guy now but grappling with that connection is fucked up dude it’s weird. He’ll probably further distance himself but it still fucking sucks and I don’t know how to communicate the cognitive dissonance we had to push through bc our brain struggled at first to make sense of how this person who we liked so much that he became the template for a Protector to shield us from the emotional neglect and abuse, essentially, is a terrible person. I’m sorry I know people who aren’t systems, and some who are ngl, will find this fuckibg nuts and I get that but we’re a very very internal person like I just. Kinda am with us as a system a lot and nobody else. It feels like my safe space that I’ve created in my head has been marred. Also. uhm. Our alters speak in distinct voices so it’s bad bad for me rn and we are trying to fix it. I know I know fictives and factives arenttheir source but that doesn’t change that it makes me feel gross. I’m rambling rn I’m sorry. Support Shelby.

[1d1195]

to the anon that sent me two messages. I haven't been ignoring you. I def stayed away from tumblr the last day or so. But anyway.

You are always welcome to trauma dump to me and I'm happy to listen. I hope that my opinions and feelings don't make you think less of me. I know there's a lot I don't know nor experience and I never aim to offend anyone and never try to make anyone feel invalidated. You are extremely important, and I think that's the most important thing to remember and take away if you decide to read below the cut.

I think your feelings are completely reasonable. I have been struggling with the way he uses his platform myself and other than writing, I've found myself hardly listening to his music lately. I think I've been in love with the old Harry and maybe the way he used to make me feel--when I was younger and less aware of how bad the world was. When I picture him, it's not the Harry from 2024. I'm not even sure it's the Harry I thought about when I started this blog.

I'm not trying to make him sound better than he is, but a lot of people have voiced these opinions about Harry and other celebrities more and more recently. I don't think you're alone and you're right to question his beliefs and attitudes toward social issues and marginalized communities. I try not to delve too much into his relationships. I never understand them and it honestly just depresses me so I steer clear.

You are completely entitled to your opinion and I think if you're protecting your heart and mental health by pulling back from Harry, then there's nothing wrong with that. I like what you said about not being caught off guard. I'm the same way. It would be crippling to find out someone I looked up to wasn't who I thought they were. It's happened a lot actually to people I'm very close with and it hurts like crazy.

I don't know if this helps but part of what I do (specifically me--and my bf would COMPLETELY agree with me) is I def am prone to para-social relationships with celebrities (queue the fanfic archive). I call Ryan by his first name (either one), same with Andrew (Garfield) Being from the same state I'm convinced I would fall in love with Chris Evans at Gillette Stadium watching the Patriots (even though he's now married). And quite honestly? I think this 'pedestal' (if you can call it that because I don't think it is) that I put them on makes them less real. I don't see them as real people. Maybe that's bad in it's own right, too, but I think I do it subconsciously to protect my heart. I really liked watching Ellen growing up--she was a staple when I was home sick from school and I just found her segments enjoyable. When all the bad stuff came out about her it killed a part of my childhood and I'm not condoning what she did because she hurt a lot of people--including myself. I'm not sure how closely you follow my blog (no shade, just feel bad if you have to listen to me repeat myself a lot) but I refuse to watch the news. It just makes this crazy, often-shitty world we live in feel even more dreadful and I couldn't take the negativity any longer. It was my way of filtering out the stuff that hurt me.

What my rambling here was trying to say was, I don't think celebrities are without fault and you're right to question and worry. You're right to protect your heart and mental health because (and the idea that I will never see Michael B. Jordan up close and personal is truly AWFUL) I'm never going to meet them to ask them the hard questions. There will always be the space of media, lies, and more that will come between their real thoughts and actions and the watered down version I get as a run-of-the-mill consumer.

I feel like I made a lot of excuses and ramblings that don't make sense here. This is a very hard subject and I really don't want you to think I'm making excuses for Harry or any celebrity. I think their lives are entirely different than mine. But I do hide A LOT of my true emotions and feelings from everyone all the time and I do think I have that in common with them. I don't know if this will make you think less of me but if it does, I'm very sorry. It wasn't my intention. I appreciate you feeling comfortable to chat with me about the hard stuff and I hope that there's some kind of comfort you take away from all this, even if it was just from getting what you were feeling off your chest. 💕 I hope that you find peace with your decision because again, the most important thing that matters is you're happy 💕

xoxo

[cloudofdarkness]

I need your help

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning :Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types

Relationship: Amy Rose/Sonic the Hedgehog

Characters:

Sonic the Hedgehog

Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Miles "Tails" Prower

Additional Tags:

Comfort

Angst

Fluff

Language: English

-

No one can bottle up their feelings for too long, not even Sonic

Give a like and Fave here as well if you please!!

Okay, I need your help.

Please don’t tell anyone.

Amy stared down at her phone in silence, her fingers gently tracing the sides of her case as she read the two texts back over and over. She’d done it on her way over there, and who knew how long she’d been standing here in front of his front door. Sonic had never actually reached out to her about these things before, let alone anyone else. He wasn’t really someone who liked to willingly express negative emotions, so it shocked her to suddenly get such a text. Usually when something was wrong, it was played off as “Hey, you wanna go throw baseballs at glass bottles in the junkyard at three am because we’re both upset?” It wasn’t ever just..I need your help. That’s what worried her.

Gently, she knocked on the door, tucking her phone away in her shoulder bag and waiting for a moment to be answered. It took longer than she expected, already plunging her worry deeper than it already needed to be, and when he answered..He seemed perfectly normal. That might’ve actually weirded her out the most.

“Oh hey! You made it!” His usual cheery tone was there, but somewhere she heard a slight crack in his voice. He looked around her as if to make sure no one was following, before stepping back to invite her in. “Tails made cookies! He wanted to try this weird mint chip recipe he found, since we all know he’s crazy about mint. They’re actually not that bad! Just..not my thing. You can grab some if you want! He knows you’re coming by!”

He was..a bit too cheery for someone who’d texted her like he did. It’s not like it was his normal to text with periods and lowercase either. She knew that, everyone knew that. Something was up. And she figured it had something to do with him avoiding his feelings. She knew it was coming, that he’d get so close and then back out of it, but she’d crack him somehow, that’s what she was here for. She knew that’s what he wanted too. “Right. I’ll Ah..bring some home with me. Why don’t we catch up first? It’s been a good minute since I’ve hung out with anyone. I know you and Tails have been up to a lot~ wanna ramble about that?”

His ears perked up in interest as he turned on his heel toward her, leaning against the counter all casual like. “Well~ we met this cool gal, Tangle! She’s this lemur with a super long tail that’s almost like a hand! We hung out with her for awhile..oh! And Blaze is back! She wants to help with the resistance! Thought you’d be happy to know that~”

Amy had to keep her cheeks from flushing at the mention, before clearing her throat with a smile, going to sit back in one of the bar stool chairs. “I’ll make sure I keep an eye out for her~ Anyone else I should know about?”

“Oh yeah! This gal named Whisper! Silver’s all about her, and at first I didn’t really get her, but..she’s kinda like Shadow! She works with people she really trusts, even if at first she seems kinda cut off from everyone else!” He continued, already feeling a bit better just talking about new friends, though he knew it wouldn’t wholly stir the problem from his thoughts. “There was a couple other smaller things but~ not much from my end besides daily plane tests and explorin’ the countryside~ what about you?”

Amy simply laughed at this, playing with one of her bracelets before leaning against one of her arms. “Well..nothing as exciting as you, I’m sure..just resistance work and sometimes visiting Vanilla and Cream. She’s grown so much, it’s crazy! I work for so long sometimes, it really doesn’t hit me how long it’s actually been until I can feel my quills hitting my shoulders, you know?” She tried to lighten the mood, playing with her longer hair for added effect. There was something about her that just..made Sonic feel better than he was before. Even if it was just talking to her, she always managed to keep a positive attitude. How was she so good at that?

“Hey..Ames, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to ruin the small, happy reunion they were having..but he needed to know. “How do you..stay so positive all the time? I mean, you’re the leader of the resistance and yet you seem so unfazed by everything..like when you guys rescued me. Yeah, you were pretty emotional then but..it was only because you were worried about me. You never once seemed stressed that Eggman had taken over Mobius..and that you were at the head of all that.” He paused, noticing that she was avoiding his gaze now, her fingers tracing the patterned lines on the counter. “..I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that..I just-“

“No it’s okay.” She quickly interrupted him, her eyes falling down to her lap as her tracing slowed to a stop. “I guess you got me~ I..I’m not good with my own feelings. Probably because I’ve never had to deal with anything big before. I’ve never felt upset about anything significant. When I started the resistance..it was a simple thing to look for you. Just our friends and I hoping that you weren’t dead. And then months passed, things became more serious and..everything depended on my judgement. Every time we lost something, it was on me. Every time we lost someone? Me again. Every time..I’d write to myself, and when that wouldn’t work..I’d just..cry. I’d find somewhere that nobody else was, and I’d cry. Shadow left, Tails left..and I felt like I failed you. Even if you were dead, I couldn’t keep two of the most important people in your life safe. I didn’t even go after them..” her voice wavered at that last part, before she stopped, realizing there were tears dripping into her lap. She tried to wipe them away, before sighing softly. This wasn’t about her..but she felt like both of them needed to know this. “..I realize now that..what I felt then, that’s what you feel like every day. And I’m so sorry you have to carry that burden.”

Damnit. She really knew how to read people. He bet she could hear the cracking of his shell. He bet she knew he was going to break any minute now. Maybe that was okay, but he still wasn’t sure. He’d try to put this as delicately as he could. Gently, he took one of her hands, watching her head lift a little. “Remember when we first met? I saved you from Metal and you said I could stay with you because I was a stupid runaway kid not much older than you. And I said, sure but don’t get attached! And then your parents ended up spoiling me so much I stayed for almost a year? I think that was one of the best homes I’ve had.”

Amy nodded, a small smile coming to her face as she met his gaze with watery eyes. “Hah..yeah..and we would stay up all night watching corny movies and looking at cute boys. And you’d act like you hated school, but then saw how fun my classes were and tried to join in with me.” She earned a laugh with that one.

“Yeah well-! They weren’t normal classes! I’ve never met anyone who took five language classes and a chao caretaking class!” He tried to defend himself, pouting rather indignantly. “Besides that, they had cool PE games. And I totally kicked butt at every one! But..then I left for awhile..I met Tails and Knuckles..we all went on adventures..people started knowing my name..they started looking up to me, counting on me. And I became exactly what I’d ran away from.”

Amy noticed his voice fading again, watching as he sat back in the stool behind him, still leaning against the counter. “I became someone that gave orders..that..people would solely trust in just because I did a couple really cool things. It’s like..I know I’m fated to do great things, I know I’m connected to chaos and I’m super powerful, but I just..I wanna do all that and still be me. I don’t want people thinking that my word is law. I don’t wanna be the reason behind failure..I don’t want people sacrificing themselves for me. I’m just one guy.” He paused again, looking down to his hands, before clenching them into fists. “I sometimes wonder what the world would be like if I did die. Not that I want to..but I wonder. Sure, things would be awful..but they’d get better, right? Shadow’s just as good at saving the world as I am. Silver too..you’re an amazing leader, even if it’s stressful sometimes. So is Knuckles. Tails is practically following in my footsteps..it’s like..things would be okay without me. And I’m not just saying that because I think I don’t matter..I just want the world to know that they don’t always have to look to me. They can look inside themselves for judgement.”

When he finished, he realized how quiet the atmosphere had gotten, and he quickly grew nervous. “Sorry, I guess the deep feeling juice is really running its course.”

“Does it feel better?”

“Huh?”

Amy smiled, knowing she’d worked her magic on him. Not even Sonic could bottle up his emotions around her. “Talking about it with someone. Does it help?”

Ah shit..that’s what she was doing all along, wasn’t it?? He’d really gotten eased into this so easily! He simply scoffed, trying to play it off as a small blush came to his cheeks. What a sucker. “I guess it does~ ya really got me there, Ames~ remind me to get you back.”

Rolling her eyes, she hopped down from her stool, going over to hug him and hearing his playful groans of embarrassment. “No~! Not the gentle hugs~! I refuse to be this sappy!”

“Deal with it, punk. Because I’m staying like this for a good minute!! If you squirm, I’m only making it tighter!!” She teased back, before backing out of the hug with a giggle, she met his gaze for a moment, brushing back her quills before feeling herself being pulled back in. Her head rest against his chest, feeling his muzzle against the top of her head. “..Thanks, Amy. I really needed this.”

She gently hugged him back, her fingers brushing the spot between his back spikes just like how she knew he liked it. It was calm. It was nice. It was a small moment, before the kitchen door was kicked open by Tails, causing the both of them to frantically jump out of the embrace.

Tails simply eyed the two in confusion, before going to grab a soda bottle from the fridge. He grinned playfully to Sonic, earning a side eye from him before hurrying back to the door. “It’s nice to see you, Amy!”

“Tails..” Sonic spoke between his teeth, faking a smile as Tails cackled, shutting the door behind him before he could face the other’s wrath. He knew exactly what he’d done..

“..so. You wanna watch corny movies and talk about boys like old times?” Amy tried to stray from the awkward moment, gently squeezing his hand and causing him to revert his gaze.

“Totally.”