#my Personal Dimple Feelings Progression was like

[scribefindegil]

I didn’t watch Mob Psycho at first because I saw promo art with Dimple and thought he would be an awful, annoying sidekick. Now he’s my favorite character. (Paul Rudd “look at us” meme plays)

Anon I am shaking your hand.

I was talking with a friend the other day about how when characters that you really don't expect to like become your favorites it can hit even harder, and I think a lot of Dimple Enjoyers have that experience.

Because yeah, he looks like he's gonna be an awful annoying sidekick! He looks like he's going to fall into the 'non-human companion' archetype that exists to provide uncomfortable comic relief and get treated more like a pet than a character and never really change.

And then you realize oh. No. The narrative *is* going to take him seriously as a character. And then you get to the broccoli arc and realize oh no! The narrative is going to take him SO seriously as a character and you are never going to be normal again!

[noirsfantasy]

𝕽𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊 | 𝖕𝖙. 1

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Michael B Jordan as Adonis Creed x Black!Plus-sized Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Smut

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 ➛ Creed

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛3.4k

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛A chance encounter between you and Adonis at a label party turns into a passionate and intense romantic night.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛Guys, guys, GUYSSSSSS!!! Y'all are gonna love this one, I'M TELLING YOU! You won't be disappointed.

Next Part

My heels click loudly as I make my way into a large bustling event. I had been invited by my best friend, Bianca to attend the label party she set up for one of her artists. As I walk in, my heart races with excitement as the buzz of the crowd fills my ears. I had been to a few of these exclusive events before and I knew how to dress the part. I'm dressed to impress, my black dress hugging my curvy frame and accentuating my hips. My hair, curled to perfection, falls gently onto my shoulders, and my red purse adds a touch of sophistication to my look.

I feel a buzz from my phone and smile, seeing a text pop up.

"Someone's looking sexy," It reads and I see that it's from Bianca. I scan around the room, looking for her as she's already spotted me. When we make eye contact, I smile and make my way over. She smiles at me and gives me a big hug, which I return.

"I'm so glad you made it!" She tells me as we part.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, B. Besides I'm always down to support my bestie." I reply with a wink, causing Bianca to chuckle.

"You sure you not just tryna steal the show?" She questions playfully as she raises an eyebrow. I giggle and shake my head.

"No way, girl. I just threw something on that I thought would match the theme." I assure her but she purses her lips.

"Really? Cus from what I'm seeing all that ass is getting more attention than my artist." She says, gesturing to my outfit and the way it complements my body. I nudge her shoulder.

"Girl, whatever! That is not true." We share a laugh and I shake my head.

"Anyways, make yourself at home. There's an open bar and, you know, just enjoy yourself. I gotta go talk to these producers real quick." Bianca takes my hand and gives it a squeeze before letting go and walking over to do some networking. I sigh a bit, rubbing my glossy lips together as I look around for anyone familiar.

I'd always been a bit shy, but there's something about being in a room full of celebrities that makes me feel like I'm living a dream. I smooth out my skirt as I weave between people, smiling politely at acquaintances. That's when I see him - Adonis Creed, a famous boxer. I've been a fan of his for a while and, I must say, he's even more breathtaking in person. His brown skin gleams under the warm lights, his goatee and large stud earrings giving him a rugged yet sophisticated edge. And those dimples? Those lips? They can make anyone weak at the knees.

I realize I've been staring when our eyes meet and he holds my gaze for a moment. A smile tugs at his lips and I have to look away quickly to hide the blush that is forming.

As the evening progresses, I find myself crossing paths with him a few times. He'd always give me a charming smile and I'd smile politely back, before going back to what I was doing. Each encounter only serves to leave me feeling more intrigued and attracted to him.

I decide to get a drink from the bar and as I order from the bartender, someone appears next to me.

"I'll have what she's having." He says and I look up to see Adonis. I clear my throat nervously and I smile politely at him as I shift in my seat. He smiles back, taking in the way I cross my legs, my movements effortless and sexy. The heat starts to rise in my cheeks as I feel his eyes on me. "I gotta say," He starts, leaning against the bar. "You killing with that outfit." I meet his eyes once more and smile at the flattery.

"Thank you, glad to know my efforts haven't gone unnoticed," I reply as the bartender hands me my drink. I thank him and then look back at Adonis.

"Yeah, you caught my eye from across the room. But I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before. What's your name?" He inquires, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel a blush creeping onto my face as I take a sip from my drink for courage.

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you." I introduce myself, holding my hand out. He takes my hand in his, giving it a gentle shake before lifting it to his lips and landing a soft kiss on my knuckles.

"The pleasure's all mine, Y/N. I'm Donnie." He replies, his grip on my hand lingering for a bit before letting go. The action sends butterflies through my body. "You a friend of Bianca's?" He asks.

"Yeah, her best friend, actually," I say with a chuckle, taking another sip of my drink and feeling the warmth rise through my chest. Adonis raises an eyebrow in pleasant surprise.

"I thought your name sounded familiar," He says with a smile, his eyes studying my face. "She mentioned you a few times. Said you were important to her." His gaze roams over me, enjoying how the alcohol visibly loosens me up.

"Really? That's sweet. I never knew she talked about me to other people." I hide a bashful smile, appreciating my friendship with the producer.

"Although, I've gotta admit, her descriptions of you don't do you justice at all." The compliment rolls off of his tongue easily, but it's clear he means every word. I find myself blushing again and laughing softly as I look away. There's an undeniable spark between us and, as we speak, my shy nature seems to dissipate. We find ourselves engaging in witty banter, my lips curling into a smile as I match his flirty tone.

"So, you a fan of boxing, gorgeous?" Donnie asks, leaning a little closer, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes seem to see right through me and I get the sense that he's just as interested in me as I am in him.

"Maybe," I reply with a playful grin, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. "It depends on the boxer," I say with a shrug.

"Ah," Donnie shoots back with a wry smile, leaning in even closer. "You've got a type, I see. Let me guess, you're probably into those pretty-boy fighters, the ones who don't get their hands dirty. Guys like Ryan Garcia, maybe?" I tilt my head as if I'm thinking.

"Hmm, no not really. I'm more into the dangerous ones." I say, my eyes locking on his. A wolfish grin spreads across Donnie's lips as I share my preference.

"Ah, so you're after someone who can bring the heat, huh? Someone who gives you that flutter in your chest just by being near them." A pause as Donnie lifts his drink to his lips. "You're not afraid to mix it up and get your hands dirty?" I raise an eyebrow, biting my lip slightly.

"I think getting dirty is part of the fun," I tell him with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, I can promise you, it always is," Donnie replies, his voice low and husky. Our eyes lock, the air between us feeling charged with a heat that wasn't there before. "But be careful, gorgeous," he adds. "Some games can end in a brutal knockout."

"Really? Well, good thing I'm always up for a challenge." A mischievous glint appears in Donnie's eyes as he leans even closer.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Donnie muses, his gaze flickering with a predatory flash. We talk for a bit longer, flirting back and forth until the party eventually draws to a close. I find myself unable to resist the pull between us. With a boldness that surprises even me, I approach him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"So, Donnie," I begin, my voice having a suggestive edge, "are you going to ask for my number, or do I have to make the first move?" A flash of desire crosses his face, and he steps closer, his body radiating heat.

"I think we can skip the whole dating game charade," he murmurs, his lips inches from my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why don't you come back to my place? I'll show you why they call me Big D." My breath quickens as I slowly nod, unable to speak past the lump of desire in my throat. Taking his hand, I let him lead me out of the event and into the night, a delicious anticipation building inside me.

The ride to his place is a blur of streetlights and adrenaline, my body tingling with eagerness. As soon as the door to his home shuts behind me, Donnie presses me up against it, his lips claiming mine in a passionate kiss. I melt into him, my hands roaming over his muscular back, feeling the definition of his powerful body.

His hands find my curves effortlessly, his touch a perfect balance of firmness and gentleness. My body presses against his as my hands caress his jaw and neck, the stubble on his face tickling my skin.

"Damn," Donnie curses under his breath as he pulls away briefly, his lips moving to explore the expanse of my neck. Each kiss leaves fire in its wake and I let out a soft moan, my eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

Breaking the kiss, he looks deeply into my eyes, running his thumb along my bottom lip. Our lips crash together sloppily as I tug at his shirt impatiently.

"Eager, are we now?" Donnie teases, his breath warm against my neck. He gently pushes my hands away and lifts his shirt, revealing chiseled abs and a defined chest. I trace the ridges of his muscles with my fingertips, feeling every contour, every line. I feel like I'm dreaming, but the heat of his body and the taste of his lust on my tongue are all too real.

He lifts me into his arms and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. I feel small in his embrace, but also protected. The way he easily carries my weight and holds me, all while showering my neck with kisses, sends tingles through me. I moan softly, tilting my head to give him better access as my hand rests on the back of his head, my acrylics grazing his scalp. Donnie brings my lips to his once more, sucking on my bottom lip slightly. He carries me into the bedroom, never once breaking the kiss, and lays me down on the edge of the bed.

Donnie's hands slide down my body, tracing the curves of my thighs and legs as he gently slips my heels off. His hands travel up my back his fingers finding the zipper of my dress, slowly pulling it down.

I lift my hips to help him undress me, a playful thrill coursing through me as I expose myself to his hungry gaze. He strips away my clothing until the only thing left are my lacy panties. His eyes rake over my body, taking in every curve, roll, and stretch mark, before returning to my face, the fire in his eyes searing me to my core. He leans down, cupping my breasts and taking my sensitive nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth as I whimper from the pleasure. He kisses the soft skin tenderly, before trailing his finger along my jaw, ghosting over my lower lip as I look up at him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers, kneeling before me and guiding my legs over his shoulders. His fingers run along my outer thighs as he presses a kiss to the damp fabric between my legs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path. I bite my lip, watching him gaze upon me in a mix of awe and lust. "I've been dying to taste you all night."

A ripple of excitement runs through me as his eyes burn with desire. He pulls my panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. Without another word, he lowers his head, his tongue lapping at my core, flicking my clit and driving me wild.

A strangled moan escapes my lips as his mouth sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. His talented tongue works me over relentlessly, every lick and suck driving me wild with want. My hips buck against his face as I lose myself in the sensations, my hands on the back of his head, pressing him closer.

"Donnie~" I pant breathlessly, aching for more. A low growl rumbles in Adonis's throat as he hears his name fall from my lips.

"That's right, mama," He breaths against my slick folds, sending tingles through my core. His grip on my thighs tightens as he resumes his devouring assault, his tongue lapping and swirling with unyielding hunger. I can feel the vibrations of his moans against my sensitive skin, causing my back to arch off the bed slightly.

A wicked grin spreads across Donnie's face as he feels my body react to his stimulation. He sucks and swirls his tongue around my clit, intent on driving me wild with pleasure. My hands grip the sheets, fueling his desire as he moans against my core. Donnie's strong hands firmly hold me in place as I squirm beneath his grasp.

"Oh god, I'm so close~" I moan as I throw my head back, rolling my hips. Sensing my impending release, Adonis doubles down, his tongue working my swollen bundle of nerves with ruthless precision as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs tremble against his grip as I feel my climax rising to the surface. With one final flick of his tongue, he sends me hurtling over the peak into a crashing wave of ecstasy.

My body tenses as my thighs grip his head, holding him in place as I come undone. Adonis laps up every last drop of my sweet nectar, groaning with unbridled satisfaction. When my tremors finally subside, he slowly pulls back, his lips glistening as he lightly kisses my inner thigh.

"You taste so good, babygirl," he purrs, his voice dripping with lust. I pant heavily as I start to calm down, my racing heart beginning to slow. I whimper softly as he moves up my body, pressing his hardness against my thigh.

Adonis's eyes darken with desire as he hears my whimpers and he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over my lips.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I'm just getting started." His fingers trail up my outer thigh, his touch feather-light but electrifying. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," he whispers before capturing my mouth in a searing, passionate kiss.

My arms wrap around Donnie's neck as I whine into the kiss, tasting myself on his tongue and aching to feel him inside me. He teases me, grinding his clothed cock against my entrance, soaking the fabric. A groan emits from his throat as the delicious friction drives him wild with need. He pulls back just enough to swiftly rid himself of his remaining clothes.

Donnie's cock springs free, thick and throbbing as he positions himself at my entrance. "You feel that, baby?" He rasps, rubbing the tip teasingly against my slick folds.

"Yes-" I gasp as he prods my hole, just barely pushing in before pulling back again. I roll my hips to try and press you deeper, but you don't budge.

"Someone's impatient." He taunts, eliciting a whine from me.

"Please~" I beg, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at how desperate I sound. A chuckle escapes him as he continues to tease me with his cock.

"Say it again," he demands, drawing his lower plump lip between his teeth while pressing into my heat, only allowing the tip to enter. I grunt with frustration.

"Please, Donnie," I whisper, my voice thick with desire. "I need you. Now." Without warning, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt with a moan of ecstasy. I let out a yelp as I stretch around him, feeling his dick pressing against my cervix. Adonis's eyes widen as he feels me tighten around his hard length.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," he growls, his fingers digging into my hips. Slowly, he begins to rock his hips, establishing a deep and steady rhythm as he fills me over and over.

"Oh my god- So big~" I manage to say between moans. I meet his thrusts, my legs locking around his waist, pulling him deeper. My long nails dig into his back, threatening to break, but I don't care. I groan as he fills me up completely, stretching me just barely past my limit.

Adonis's eyes flash with lust as I cry out, relishing the feel of every inch of him buried inside me. He groans throatily, driven wild by the sensations of my silky walls clenching around his throbbing length.

"That's right, take it all," he rasps, his hips rolling in a steady, punishing rhythm. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me flush against him as his lips claim mine again. My tongue swirls around his as I pull him impossibly closer, my body melting against his. The kiss becomes more possessive Donni's large hands roam my body.

He tears his mouth from mine only to latch onto my neck as he starts rolling his hips against mine, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. He uses one hand to turn my neck, exposing more of my skin, and the other to capture my nipple in his fingers, rolling the sensitive peak between his digits. His hips increase to a relentless pace, driving his thick shaft in and out repeatedly. The obscene sounds of our joined bodies fill the air, only rivaled by my mewls of pleasure.

"Fuck, I'm gonna wreck you." He whispers against my skin, his voice hoarse as the force of his thrust urges another moan out of me.

"Mhm, yes please f-" My breath hitches, unable to finish my sentence as he picks up speed. He shifts his weight to his knees, leaning his head back as his cock slams deliciously into my core. Donnie's powerful hips snap forward with relentless abandon, the bed creaking under our combined weight.

I press my hands to the headboard behind me for support as the force of his thrusts move me further up the bed. I look up at Adonis, but his eyes are screwed shut, his brows knitted together and jaw clenched as every muscle in his sculpted body strains with the effort. My whimpers and moans mutate into screams of pleasure as he chases his own release, his thrusts growing more erratic.

"Don- nie-" My words are stuttered as my brain turns to mush from his movements, his hands grip my hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into me, desperate to find his edge.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Let me feel that sweet pussy milk my dick." He urges, his voice hoarse. His words send me over the edge, my body clenching around him as I climax, my back arching off the bed as a flood rushes from between my legs. I let out a whine as he continues to thrust, splashing my fluids back onto me as the feeling of me tightening around him sends him over the edge as well.

A strangled cry of pleasure tears from his throat as his hips stutter, losing their rhythm as he is enveloped in the throes of his own climax. He collapses forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his body shudders with the intensity of his release. Waves of blissful ecstasy washes over us, every nerve ending alight with sensation. When the tremors finally cease, he rolls to the side, pulling me flush against his sweat-slicked body.

"Damn, baby..." he breaths, placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

"That was... fuck, I don't even have the words." I reply softly as my cheek rests against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat slowing. Adonis chuckles breathlessly, his strong arms wrapped securely around me.

"Tell me about it. That was..." He trails off, shaking his head in disbelief. I smile to myself as we lie there in bed, basking in the bliss of our pleasure. At this moment, nothing else matters. It's just me and Adonis. Just two strangers, yet it feels like he knows every part of me. I sigh contently, feeling the lull of sleep falling over me.

[parkerslatte]

Congratulations :) 21, 48 with azriel :)

A/N: Thank you so much and thank you for your request :)

_____

Hands To Myself

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none

Summary: At a family dinner, Y/N and Azriel can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.

Prompts Used: 21. You can't keep your u hands off each other, even though no one knows about the two of you. 48. "You've been smiling much more recently."

3000 Follower Celebration

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

From across the dining room table, Y/N met Azriel’s hazel eyes. The eyes that she loved more than anything. From a distance, all of the colours that made up the unique colour blurred together but Y/N knew all of the different shades of browns, grey’s and the small flecks of green. Looking into Azriel’s eyes was Y/N’s own personal work of art that Feyre could never quite capture accurately. They were so unique to him.

Y/N watched Azriel raise his fork to his mouth, clearly trying to fight off the smile trying to break out on his face. Even though she knew that it was a bad idea, Y/N smiled in Azriel’s direction. There was a lot to love and admire about the shadowsinger but the one thing that stood out amongst the rest was his smile. It was what drew Y/N in in the first place.

At first it was those small smiles he would only offer to people he barely knew as a greeting. Then it progressed to his smiles of comfort, and Y/N had been on the receiving end of one too many of those smiles. However it wasn’t long before those smiles of comfort transitioned to the smallest of smiles where a sliver of Azriel’s teeth were visible. Those were the smiles that his family usually bore witness to. Those were the smiles when Azriel was most at ease. 

However, as they grew closer and closer, Y/N began to notice Azriel’s smiles begging to get larger and larger. Showing off his one dimple on his left cheek. And it didn’t take Y/N long to notice that those smiles were reserved strictly for her. 

Y/N found herself smiling down at her food as she cut into a potato. Underneath the table, she stretched her legs out until she brushed against Azriel’s foot. Touch he didn’t react visibly, Y/N felt the slight brush of his leg against hers. Y/N glanced up and met Azriel’s eyes once more. All she wanted was to abandon dinner completely and drag him all the way back to her apartment on the outskirts of Velaris. 

But, alas, that was not an option. 

Y/N and Azriel had only been together for a little over five months but they had known each other nearly two years, ever since Y/N had been brought in to help Feyre with her pregnancy. Of course two years was nothing compared to both of their considerable lifetimes, but to both Y/N and Azriel, it was like they had known each other their whole lives. 

Soon after Y/N took Azriel out on a date, the two both agreed to keep their relationship private. Not because of what the rest of the Inner Circle would say, but because they both simply preferred their privacy and they knew that if the rest of the Inner Circle knew, it would only mean relentless teasing. 

At first it was easy to keep their relationship private but as soon as it began to get more serious and the attachment grew, it was harder and harder to keep their hands off one another.

After dinner, the group headed into the living room to relax in a more comfortable environment. As they all walked the short distance to the living room, Y/N and Azriel hung back, his arm caressing her lower back. Goosebumps immediately spread across Y/N’s body. She had wanted to feel his touch all night and now that she finally did, she craved more. 

“I can’t wait to drag you back to my apartment,” Y/N muttered, her hand wrapping around his. 

Azriel bent down so his lips grazed her ear. “And do what?”

Y/N tilted her gaze to look at him, her eyes meeting his. “Whatever you want.”

That beautiful smile lit up his face as his grip on her tightened the smallest amount. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Y/N glanced to where everyone had disappeared in the living room, the hallway was empty. “Well there’s no one out here right now.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Azriel’s lips were on hers as he pressed her against the wall. Y/N sighed in content as she parted her lips and just let Azriel devour her. From hours of being deprived of his touch, all of Y/N’s senses were heightened and she could already feel herself becoming putty in Azriel’s arms to shape and mould however he wanted and she would allow him. Her fingers threaded in his hair and pulled him even closer. Azriel obliged and wrapped his strong arms around her body and pressed her against his. One arm was around her waist while the other gently cradled the back of her head so she wouldn’t bang it against the wall. 

The feeling of being in Azriel’s arms was like no other. Of course Y/N had had her fair share of lovers in the past but none had been as attentive and caring as Azriel. He had waited over five hundred years for a love like Y/N and now that he finally had it, there was no chance he would ever let it go. Y/N savoured every touch, every word of affirmation, every single moment they spent together. She savoured them all. Of course she knew that there would be many more to come but that was just how it was with them, the amount of love shared between the two was unlike any other either of them had experienced before. They were each other’s salvation. 

“Come on you two!” Cassian’s voice chimed from the living room. “We have Rhys’s good wine!”

Y/N and Azriel pulled away from one another and Azriel reluctantly stepped back. “We should go, before they get suspicious.”

“Yes we should,” Y/N agreed.

Neither of them made a move for the living room. Y/N simply chuckled as she leant up and pecked Azriel’s cheek. “Come on, or we never will.”

Azriel followed, his hand clasped in Y/N’s but as soon as they were outside of the living room door he dropped it. Y/N immediately felt the warmth of his hand disappear and she sighed. 

“There you two are,” Cassian exclaimed. “I was about to search for you.”

Azriel simply rolled his eyes and took a seat on the couch and Y/N followed, squeezing herself in the only available spot next to him. Her whole side was pressed against his. Y/N wasn’t sure that this was a particularly good idea as all she wanted to do was curl up to his side. As hard as it was, she refrained herself. 

Y/N tilted her head to look at Azriel and he sent her a smile. Y/N returned it. 

***

The alcohol had hit everyone and Y/N had found herself with her back against the arm of the couch while her legs were draped over Azriel’s lap. She was on her fourth glass of wine and the only thing she could think of was the male she loved so dearly. His hand rested on her shin and his thumb traced patterns upon the soft skin. Of course when she and Azriel were more sober, they had refrained from any touching that wasn’t necessary, but now that had gone out of the window. Y/N wasn’t even entirely sure that Azriel realised what he was doing. 

While Y/N sipped on her glass of wine, she threw her head back and laughed at something Cassian had said. The grip on her shin slowly rose until it rested just above her knee and Y/N felt like her body was on fire. She was just glad that everyone else was affected by the wine as she hoped that none of them even noticed. 

“What about you, Az?” Rhys said.

Azriel tore his gaze away from Y/N for a brief moment to look at his brother. “What about me?”

“You’ve been smiling much more recently,” Rhys said, his arm tightening around Feyre’s shoulders. “Care to tell us the reason why?”

Azriel shrugged, though his grip on Y/N’s thigh tightened. Y/N knew that she should move position, maybe sit away from Azriel but his touch was simply addicting.

“I don’t know,” Azriel answered, looking around at the rest of his family, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a second longer. “I’m surrounded by my family.”

Cassian laughed, throwing his head back. “We should get you drunk more often, you turn into much more of a sap.”

Azriel glared at Cassian before his hand travelled higher on Y/N’s thigh. 

“Oh, Cass, leave him alone,” Y/N said, laughing. “It’s not his fault that he loves us all so much that he smiles when he thinks about it.”

Azriel looked at Y/N and tried to fight the smile but failed miserably. 

“See? He’s doing it now,” Y/N said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

Y/N wasn’t sure exactly what came over her as everything about their position was not subtle. Somehow throughout the duration of the conversation she had found herself sitting on Azriel’s lap and one of his arms was wrapped around her tightly holding onto her hip. She wished she had never drunk as much as she did, maybe then she would have more self control. 

It seemed as if Azriel didn’t care as he only looked at her, nothing but love in his eyes. There was a smile on his face though not the one only she was allowed to see. This was different, it was one Y/N had never seen before and she wished to see again. This smile communicated so much in such a smile gesture. I love you, the smile seemed to say.

Those three words had never been exchanged between the two, of course they both loved each other but neither had said it yet. Saying it made everything real and even though both Y/N and Azriel were very sure that the only thing they wanted was each other, it was still scary. 

Y/N found herself leaning closer to Azriel. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to press her lips against his and utter those three simple words they held so much weight. But she couldn’t, not with everyone around. 

Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away and Azriel pulled her closer, unable to keep his hand off her. The desire for him gradually rose the more he touched her. Even when he conversed with Cassian and Nesta and Y/N conversed with Elain and Lucien, she was hyper aware of the places Azriel was touching on her body. She needed him desperately. And from the way Azriel was gripping onto her, he clearly felt the same. 

As soon as Azriel’s attention was back on her, Y/N leant down to whisper in his ear. “Let’s go home.”

Azriel looked into Y/N’s eyes and that one look held the same three words his smile did and he knew in that moment that he needed to leave with her in his arms.

Y/N finished the final sip of her wine before slipping from Azriel’s lap. “I’m going to head home, I’m quite tired and I’m meant to be at work early in the morning.”

“I can walk her home,” Azriel offered almost immediately, rising to his feet. Y/N smiled up at him before bidding goodbye to everyone.

As soon as they left the room and were safely around the corner, Y/N gripped onto Azriel’s hand and as soon as they were in the cool night air, she tugged him down and pressed her lips against his. 

“I love you,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Azriel smiled, the one smile Y/N had fallen in love with. “I love you too.”

Y/N sighed in content as she rested her forehead against his. “I am going to love hearing that every day.”

Azriel didn’t respond as he captured her lips once more in a short and sweet kiss before wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go home, my love.”

Y/N smiled and happily walked home with Azriel, her heart bursting with love.

***

As soon as the group heard the front door close, Cassian turned to the rest of the group. “For the spymaster of the Night Court, he is not very subtle.”

“Did you see Y/N?” Nesta said. “She was practically undressing him with her eyes at dinner.”

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Elain asked. 

Rhys leaned back on the couch. “I can tell you exactly how long they’ve been together.”

“Oh yeah?” Nesta challenged. “And how long exactly, Rhysand?”

“A little over five months,” Rhys replied. “Az was late for a meeting with me and when he finally arrived over an hour later, I had never seen him smile as much as he did.”

A soft smile made its way onto Feyre’s face. “I always had a feeling ever since they met. They just click.”

Rhys smiled at his mate. “I’m sure they are mates, the bond hasn’t seemed to snap just yet.”

“And you are so sure of that?” Feyre questioned.

Rhys nodded. “I am, because he looks at her like she holds the world in the palm of her hands. And that Feyre, darling, is exactly how I looked at you.”

Feyre smiled and pressed her lips against Rhys’s in a quick but soft kiss. “I’m glad, they both deserve all of the love in the world.”

[whyilovewhales-pdf]

boynextdoor fic recommendations (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

— a collection of works i have enjoyed ! warning ! contains nsfw 18+ works, minors plz do not read smut fics

key : ✿ - fluff / ✦ - angst / ✸ - smut

ot6 : ➜ bnd as male leads ✿ - @000-pawz ﹟this is something straight out of a k-drama !! (っ- ‸ - ς) the little details are so adorable and each and every one gives me butterflies hehehe

➜ bnd's fav spots to be kissed ✿ - @blumisiu ﹟ something short and sweet and so! cute! i admit that i giggled while reading it :p like i need to kiss leehans' dimples sooo bad D:

➜ arguments w/ bnd ✦ , ✿ - @byeuijoo ﹟ this fic filled the bnd sized hole in my heart perfectly ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ the during and after was so perfect ! it's also written so accurately, u really took in account all their personalities -v-

sungho : ➜ quicksand ✦ - @loserlvrss ﹟ i always have and will continue to rave about this fic because it's just so !! the descriptions, the metaphors, the everything!!! the image it paints in your mind is so crazy ?! tears streaming down my face everytime i read it (which is very often)

➜ satin ✿ , ✸ - @gluion ﹟ firstly, THE VISUALIZATION!! just imagine prettiest boy sungho bedazzled in bows... ok now that that's out of the way, this was soooooo soft and adorable !! i literally was drooling while reading heheh i <3 yeppi

riwoo : ➜ tell me a story ✦ , ✿ - @blumisiu ﹟ spidey-riwoo!! the chronicles of spidey-riwoo have my heart heheh <3 being spiderman's girlfriend is indeed very hard, especially when you just find out after ages of dating him! this was so sweet and had my heart hurting !! spidey-riwoo is so underrated

➜ evening glow ✿ - @loserlvrss ﹟ my lovely soph... how do you always eat with every single one of ur fics!! this was just incredibly adorable, the concept of a first date with somebody you already know like the back of ur hand!! i think riwoo is the sweetest dude ever and to go on a date with him!! yeah i'm gone.

jaehyun : ➜ solace ✿ , ✦ , ✸ - @000-pawz ﹟ such a soft and cute fluffy fic !! >o< i need him in my arms and to spoil him so badly D: softie myungjae is the best thing ever omg. plz let me make u feel good !!

➜ blossom ✿ , ✦ - @riizegasm ﹟ i don't usually like royalty fics but the princess and prince concept was written way too cute !! the progression of their relationship is so lovely and the minor angst part was !!!

taesan : ➜ between the lines ✿ , ✦ - @blissfullsvn ﹟ omg enemies to lovers is so good but academic rivals to lovers is my number 1!! the fact that he cares D: so devastating... this was such a cute little trope heheheh and it was written so well (ㅠㅠ) !! i need him to take care of me lol

➜ your arms are my sanctuary ✿ , ✦ - @chewnotchoke ﹟ ohhhh i'm a SUCKER for angst with a happy ending hehe !! this was written with the intention to make me cry !! the ending was just so cute and sweet, i think it is very accurate that taesan can get pent up with anger, but he's just an angel!

leehan : ➜ moving to busan ✿ , ✦ (kinda) - @lionhanie ﹟ the mood and storytelling created throughout this fic was so detailed and i felt like i was seeing handsome surfer boy leehan irl hehe !! this fic evoked such deep emotions that are just so relatable!! this is very well written :D

➜ wasted ✦ , ✸ - @hornychristianprincess ﹟ this is a three part series !! it's so relatable and so realistic !! another promise of "i won't fall for him" and we all know how that ends :D i love seeing leehan written as a jerk (sorry bae) + the emotions are so raw and so real and the smut is 10/10. a read that'll definitely have u hooked !

woonhak : ➜ not so secret ✿ - @byeuijoo ﹟ a little secret but i always go back and reread this cause it's just too cute and woonhak is written so perfectly !! the childish romance cliche teenage relationship is mwah chefs kiss .! and the hiding from the others is just so cozy and cute.

➜ build-a-bear ✿ , ✦ - @taesanluv3r ﹟ every woonhak fic is so flipping adorable !! cries !! the little fight then him sneaking off to get a gift :< my fav trope is when woonhak gets teased to hell and back hehehe

[toxic-libra]

moth to a flame (teaser)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: up until now (but i'm still writing it) genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (fingering, blowjob, choking, kinda rough sex?, crying?)

part 1 out now!

Clearing his throat, he pointed to the brownies. “Fancy some before we move on?”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to ease me up.”

“I wanted to put caramel in, but you complained about eating too much candy recently and I know how you love caramel, so I decided to make it plain, so you won’t feel sad if you don’t eat much.”

She smiled, touched by the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Here, take a bite.” He offered a piece.

It wasn’t something unusual, they normally did this… However, this time her eyes spent a little longer analysing his hand – the pretty and veiny forearm, how the brownie looked so small compared to his palm, how close his fingertips were from her mouth… And suddenly, she could see herself in one of those luxury porn movies, where any minor action was made to entice – so, instead of taking a bite, she’d lick on his digits, sucking them as if…

Y/N almost stuffed the whole piece in her mouth, hoping its taste would erase such confusing and horrible thoughts. God, what she needed was professional help!

Soobin had a fond smile, always glad that she liked his food. “Easy there, love. You’ll get a whole batch for yourself.” Some crumbles stuck to her face, gathering on her lower lip and at the side of her mouth while she chewed. “Do you like it that much?! You got dirt all over.”

Y/N remained quiet while he dusted the crumbles off. She felt like melting under his touch and gaze, goosebumps blooming from her spine to her head. The brownie tasted good, obviously, but the sensations didn’t come from its flavour or perfectly gooey texture… Out of habit, he licked the tip of his fingers clean, and that’s when she noticed she’d been too silent.

“Sorry, you know I like sweets.”

“It’s ok. Having you acting like this strokes my ego.” The dimples showed up again as he grinned.

Her heart thumped heavily against her chest, and whatever sane thoughts she had, slipped off her mind when she got on her tiptoes and ended the distance between them.

since this is a wip (work in progress), i'm conflicted if i should make this a 2-part scenario. if so, i'll post part 1 soon. lmk what ya'll think hihi and if ya'll wanna be tagged.

[winxanity-ii]

VIRAL AFFECTION

ship: miles x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit (fluff x 3) word count: 5.6k a/n: Once again, sorry for the lack of updates, college life is no joke...don't do it y'all, jkjk 👀 but fr, just had a cute lil thought i wanted to indulge in 🥹❤️

★·.·´🇲‌🇦‌🇷‌🇻‌🇪‌🇱‌/ 🇲‌🇦‌🇷‌🇻‌🇪‌🇱‌ 🇨‌🇮‌🇳‌🇪‌🇲‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇨‌ 🇺‌🇳‌🇮‌🇻‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You're lounging in your dorm room, your phone in hand as you lazily scroll through TikTok. It's just another typical evening, filled with catchy tunes and viral dances, until you stumble upon a video that captures your attention.

It's a boy, seemingly around your age, his screen filled with the genuine warmth of someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. His profile name reads milesmorales, with the caption , "Falling without saying a word... 🥺💕," compelling enough to make you stop and watch.

The boy—Miles—in the video is undeniably cute; he's got a head of tight curls, skin a rich shade of brown, and hazel eyes that sparkle with a kind of bashful enthusiasm. But it's his smile, accompanied by the appearance of dimples, that really gets you.

He's awkwardly adorable, his words tumbling out with a mix of shyness and awe. "There's this person in my lecture hall..." he starts, his voice tinged with a nervous excitement. The apple of cheeks are a soft pink, and you find his bashfulness endearing. He talks about them as though they're the sun—bright, warm, and utterly captivating. "They're just... amazing, you know? There's something about them. I can't stop thinking about them," he stutters, looking down with a shy smile playing on his lips.

As the video progresses, Miles' cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as well as the tips of his ears. He's visibly struggling to express his feelings, yet he perseveres, driven by the strength of his emotions. "I think I might... I might be in love," he confesses, his voice barely more than a whisper. It's a bold statement, especially for someone who admits, with a flustered grin, that he hasn't even spoken to them yet. "I've just seen them from across the room," he says, laughing nervously, his hand coming up to shield his eyes as if to hide from his own confession.

The video ends with him looking down for a moment before meeting the camera again. "I don't even know if they know I exist, but I just had to share this."

As the video loops back to the beginning, you're struck by the sincerity and sweetness of his confession.

"Aww," You find yourself smiling at your phone, touched by his raw, unpolished honesty. He's not playing it cool or trying to be something he's not. He's just a guy, overwhelmed by his feelings for someone he's never even talked to.

You find yourself replaying the video, drawn to his earnestness. There's something about his demeanor that's incredibly relatable and real. It's like watching a scene from a movie, except there's no script here—just a boy, a phone, and a crush that's taken him completely by surprise.

You can't help but wonder about the person he's talking about—is they aware of the lovestruck boy who adores them from afar? The thought lingers in your mind as you continue scrolling, the Miles' shy smile imprinted in your memory.

Curiosity piqued, you notice a comment pointing to another video. It's a follow-up, just as viral as the first.

You click, and there he is again—with earnest eyes, now a familiar presence on your screen. Miles voice, soft and almost reverent, draws you into his world once more.

He's trying to articulate his feelings better this time, speaking of the person he's never directly spoken to, yet feels so deeply for. As he talks, his eyes shimmer with an unspoken joy. "It's weird, right? How you can feel so much for someone you've never talked to? But every time I see them, it's like my day gets a little brighter."

Miles' voice takes on a softer tone, almost reverent, as he describes them. He recounts small details—how quiet they are and how they seem isolated at first but are actually incredibly kind, always ready to help others.

You find yourself drawn into his narrative, seeing this person through his eyes.

"They have this quiet strength about them," he says softly, his eyes lighting up. "It's like, they don't need to be loud to be noticed. Their kindness... it just speaks volumes."

He shifts slightly, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. "And the way they have this way of being there for people, even when they keep to themselves. It's like they don't even realize how sweet they are. It's just... part of who they are. It's amazing to watch. I admire that, I really do."

The video concludes with a moment of vulnerability, his gaze shifting off-camera, a wistful tone in his voice. "I just wish I could tell them all this, ya know? Just walk up to them and say it. Maybe someday," he murmurs, more to himself than to his audience.

You find yourself scrolling through the comments, where viewers have poured out their hearts in response to his vulnerability:

starlightdreamer This is the cutest thing ever 😭 You HAVE to talk to them! funnyguy87: Dude, if you don't tell them, I'm stealing your lines for my crush 😂 hopelessfalleesr23: Manifesting a guy like this for myself 😍💕 mysterygirl123: If it doesn't work out with them, I'm right here! comediequeenie: Plot twist: This is marketing for a netflix rom-com. jkjk can't wait for the next update 😂 sinceritiesqueaks: This is so pure. It's rare to see someone so genuine. Don't lose that spark! They're lucky ❤️

"Saammmee," You can't help but giggle softly at the comments, finding the whole situation endearingly sweet.

Curiosity leads you to Miles' TikTok profile, to devour his other videos. There were only four more since the viral one—each one a treasure in its own right. The most recent one catches your attention immediately. In it, Miles addresses the growing curiosity about his crush's identity. "So, my account's blown up way more than I expected," he starts, a mix of surprise and caution in his tone. "And to answer the question everyone's asking: no, I won't be showing what they looks like. The reasons? I don't want someone sweeping in before I get my chance to express my feelings, and I definitely don't want them getting hate from people being delusional. That's it. I hope that clears things up. Now, please stop asking."

You can't help but vocalize your admiration, "We stan an intellectual king," admiring his consideration and respect for his crush's privacy.

The second video is a delicate blend of candor and restraint, hinting at what led to his latest update. Miles appears hesitant, weighing each word as if he's trying to maintain boundaries amidst his sudden online fame. "I get that you're all curious, and I appreciate the love, but please stop flooding my DMs for updates. It's not about what they look like, it's about who they are, the person I've come to admire from a distance. I'll share more about them, sure, but I'm going to keep it vague from now on. Some things... they need to stay just between us, even in this digital world."

Each word he speaks feels like a secret shared just with you, despite the thousands of other viewers.

You're drawn deeper into the story of this boy and his unseen crush; his words painting a picture of an affection that's pure and profound, leaving you eagerly anticipating the next chapter in this digital love story.

In the third video, he responds to a comment about his appearance.

budsinlighter: Why are you so afraid to confess/talk when you're this good-looking?

As you watch, you find yourself nodding agreeing—Miles really is handsome. His face, a beautiful blend of African-Latino heritage, is marked by a rich brown skin tone that glows under the camera light. His hazel eyes, fringed with curly eyelashes, are deeply expressive, radiating a mix of vulnerability and warmth.

But it's his smile that captures your heart—a boyish, charming smile that brings out small dimples at the corners of his full, two-toned lips. There's a hesitant yet genuine quality to it, like he's still getting used to being seen and appreciated.

Miles' hair adds to his distinctive look—3B curls in a stylish brown undercut, the sides neatly trimmed, making the curls on top stand out even more. His skin appears smooth, almost poreless, adding to his youthful appearance. His high cheekbones are accentuated every time he smiles or laughs, adding to the boyish charm that makes him so endearing.

Miles answers with a shy laugh, "I guess I don't really see myself like that. I mean, on campus, I try to dress nice sometimes, but mostly, it's just a big hoodie, sweats, and a beanie for me." He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt, looking more like a boy trying to find comfort in his own skin than the confident image he's portrayed.

He continues, his voice dropping a bit as he shares something deeply personal. "Growing up, I was... different. I was lanky, had acne, pretty short. Got a lot of flak for it, from family and at school." He shrugs, his eyes drift away from the camera, as if revisiting those memories isn't easy. "So now, even when people call me attractive, it's hard to believe. I still feel like that kid sometimes, you know? It's weird getting compliments when you've spent so long seeing yourself in a completely different way."

As he speaks, there's an honesty that resonates with you. His struggles, his transformation, the dissonance between how the world sees him and how he sees himself – it all paints a picture of someone who's grown, yet still carries the scars of his past.

"Poor baby," You sigh, feeling yourself relate to him even more.

As you tap on the last video, you see that it's a six-minute Q&A of Miles answering the most liked questions from his viral video's comments. You lean in, intrigued.

The intimate setting of his dorm room, with posters adorning the walls and a soft light casting a cozy glow, makes it feel like a personal chat.

kirano-indemguts: How old are you?

Miles responds with an easy smile, "I'm 19, born in August. Makes me a Leo, if anyone's into astrology."

gimmiegimmeamaniepedi: Height?

He looks momentarily puzzled, as if the question hadn't crossed his mind before. "Oh, uh, I'm not sure how tall they are, but I don't really care, tall, short. But if you mean me, I think I'm around 6'2," he says, giving a small, almost shy laugh. He gestures to his frame, as if to offer a visual confirmation of his height.

kiranoeiw: Are u a top or bottom 😛

Miles' expression shifts to one of mild confusion and embarrassment. His voice drops to a near whisper, and he looks down, a blush coloring his cheeks. "I, um, I don't really know what that means..." He coughs slightly, regaining his composure. "Let's go to the next question."

hhhobies: your video make my whole day💗💖✴🌺 but can you make my hole weak?💞💞✌🏻

He reads it out loud, his voice tinged with amusement.

For a moment, Miles blinks, his expression one of confusion. Then, as the meaning of the words sinks in, his eyes widen slightly, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He stutters, momentarily lost for words. "You guys really just go for it, huh?" he finally manages to say, his laughter breaking through the initial shock.

Shaking his head in disbelief but still smiling, Miles quickly moves on to the next question, his laughter still echoing in the room.

samiyasosa: Have you ever been in a relationship before?

Miles hums thoughtfully, his fingers absentmindedly tousling the top of his hair. "No, I haven't," he admits with a hint of vulnerability. "I was kind of just... there, ya know? Watching everyone else navigate dating and relationships while I never really jumped in."

You find yourself nodding in agreement, his words mirroring your own experiences. Like Miles, you had always thought it smarter to wait until after high school to explore dating, a decision advised by adults around you.

Now, in college, you find yourself inexperienced in the dating scene.

Your attention returns to the video as Miles falls into a moment of quiet reflection, his sigh soft and contemplative. He looks away, his gaze distant. "If they're not interested or I get rejected, it's okay," he speaks, his tone imbued with a sense of bittersweet acceptance. "I can't force anyone to like me. Everyone's their own person, right? Sure, it'll hurt, but... that's life."

You didn't need to see the question to know what was asked because his response was more then enough; his ability to accept and maturity to prepare for any potential outcomes of his crush situation earn your silent applause.

The video ends with him mustering a smile, shrugging off the sadness. "I'll keep you guys updated. Bye for now, and thanks for all the support."

As the screen goes dark, you let out a sigh, echoing his sentiment. "Same, Miles. Same," you mutter, feeling a connection to his candidness and honesty. Your thoughts briefly wander, pondering the complexities of unrequited feelings and the bravery it takes to express them.

The shrill sound of your alarm abruptly pulls you back to reality, signaling the end of your brief escape into Miles' world. With a groan and an exaggerated eye roll, you shut off the alarm and sit up, preparing to switch gears. "From crushing on a TikTok confession to deciphering ancient myths," you quip with a touch of sarcasm, reaching for your mythology textbook. "Because clearly, my academic life is as thrilling as my non-existent love life."

As you gather your study materials, a final glance at your phone screen shows Miles' TikTok account still open. Finding his entire situation and candidness on his account endearing, you can't help but press 'Follow', a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There's something about him—his vulnerability, his honesty—that resonates with you.

Eager to see how his story unfolds, you make a mental note to keep up with his updates.

With a newfound sense of connection, albeit to a stranger on the internet, you turn your attention to your homework, the mythological tales waiting to be unraveled.

Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought of Miles and his unspoken love story lingers, a sweet distraction from the mundane routine of college life.

A weary groan escapes your lips as you trudge into your dorm room. Glancing to the left, you notice your roommate's side still empty, a stark reminder of her absence since Fall Break.

Now, with Winter Break fast approaching and the weight of semester final exams bearing down, her continued absence feels more pronounced.

You shuffle to your side of the room, dropping your backpack with a thud onto the desk. Exhaustion overwhelms you as you collapse facedown onto your bed, letting out a muffled scream into your pillow.

Your brain feels like it's been put through a blender after completing your final mythology exam.

Apsu, Hercules, Persphone, Gilgamesh,Antigone,Tiamat,Aphrodi—AHHH! So much to recall!

You're so grateful for your professor's open-notes policy. Though the only downside was that you were only allowed three-notecards to put said notes on.

An award should be given for the way you managed to cram an entire semesters' of lessons onto those three cards.

Your hand lazily reached into your pocket to fetch the notecards and see if they reflected anything you recall from the exam, but it came up empty. Your face scrunched up into confusion only to relax as the memory of giving them away comes back. You can still picture the sea of stressed faces in the exam hall, the clock ticking down, TAs patrolling the room.

Luckily, with your trusty cards, you managed to finish with 45-minutes to spare; you must have given it away in such a generous mood.

"Oh well, I did my good deed for the day," you muse with a resigned sigh, kicking off your shoes and burrowing into the comfort of your blankets. Your phone in hand, you prepare for a well-deserved TikTok binge session.

A few weeks have passed since you first discovered Miles' account. Today, your scrolling comes to a halt as his face appears in a new update. He's outdoors, away from the familiar confines of his dorm room, his cheeks tinted with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

As Miles begins to speak, the world around him fades into insignificance. He's sharing a story about his crush, each word pulling you deeper into the narrative.

You lean in, captivated, as he recounts the events, oblivious to everything else but his story unfolding on your screen.

He describes the moment with a sense of wonder in his voice. "They were one of the first to finish the exam," he says, his eyes lighting up at the memory. "As they walked up the lecture hall, they made eye contact with me. Just for a second, they slowed down..."

You can almost see it happening—the quiet of the exam hall, the tension in the air, Miles sitting there, lost and overwhelmed. Then they appear in his story, a momentary savior with a simple question that changes everything.

Miles' voice softens, a smile creeping into his tone. "They mouthed, 'Do you need notes?' I just nodded, too stunned to speak. And then, they did the most amazing thing." He pauses, as if reliving the kindness in his mind. "They dropped the notecard near my foot, pretending to pick it up for me. Like it was mine all along."

You picture the scene: their quick thinking, the subtle exchange of the notecard, the careful glance to ensure they weren't caught. It's a scene straight out of a movie, and you're captivated by every detail.

"Their smile..." Miles continues, a dreamy quality in his voice. "It was so genuine, so kind. For a moment, my heart just... stopped. And when it started again, it was like a drum in my chest."

You can feel his confusion, his awe, the rush of emotions that must have coursed through him. The way he describes it, you're right there in that lecture hall, watching the scene unfold, feeling his heart skip and restart.

As he recounts the moment, an unexpected memory flashes through your mind. You see yourself back in the mythology exam room, finishing early. Your attention is drawn to a figure hunched over in the corner. A boy, unmistakably overwhelmed, with his hoodie drawn over his head and his leg tapping out a nervous rhythm against the floor.

The scene is crystal clear in your mind—the palpable sense of his distress pulls at your heartstrings.

You recall every detail...his slouched posture, the way his hoodie shadowed his face, his leg nervously bouncing as he stared down at an exam paper, still on the first page.

Your footsteps slowed as you approached, noticing his pencil tapping against the small foldable desk in a frantic tempo. When he sensed your presence, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of silent communication.

In a hushed tone, barely above a whisper, you asked, "Do you need notes?" His nod was all the confirmation you needed. You quickly devised a plan, crouching beside him and pretending to pick up the notecard you had secretly folded in your hand.

You were acutely aware of the TA's watchful eyes pausing their patrol, scrutinizing your interaction for any signs of cheating.

You flashed an innocent smile to the TA, then turned back to the boy, saying softly, "Here, your notecard fell under your seat." Placing the cards gently in his hands, you offered him a reassuring smile before gathering your belongings to leave.

Snapped back to the present by Miles' voice on your phone, the pieces suddenly click together. As the realization dawns on you, the video becomes a distant drone in the background. That boy was Miles.

You were the one who helped him. He was the boy you helped.

Your heart races as everything clicks into place. The crush Miles has been talking about all this time... it's you.

In a daze, you drop your phone, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a wave. He likes you. Miles, the earnest, kind-hearted boy from TikTok, likes you.

"Hold up... HE LIKES ME!?!" The thought sends you rolling onto your stomach, screeching into your pillow in disbelief. "That hot piece of a man likes me!?"

After a moment of wild disbelief, you slowly sit up, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your head. What should you do? Should you reach out to him? The thought of initiating contact with Miles, knowing he has feelings for you, sends a thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness through you.

As you contemplate your next move, a sense of anticipation builds within you. This isn't just a story unfolding on your phone screen anymore; it's happening to you.

And somehow, that makes it all the more exhilarating.

Gathering up courage that you didn't know you had, you decide to take a leap of faith.

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you type out a message to Miles on TikTok, your fingers hesitating slightly over the send button.

@butt-Y/N-nna Did the notecards help?

The question feels both monumental and incredibly simple.

You glance at your own TikTok profile—less than two followers, a single grainy video, a username that now seems embarrassingly childish, and an anime icon.

The vulnerability of reaching out to someone like Miles, who seems so put together, suddenly hits you.

Almost an hour ticks by with no response, the silence stretching out uncomfortably. Each minute feels longer than the last, filling you with doubt.

Finally, Miles' reply comes through:

milesmorales Yeah, it did. Statistics is a tough course.

Confusion furrows your brow. You type back, trying to keep your tone light despite the mix-up:

@butt-Y/N-nna Stat? The only notes I gave out were for mythology. So, if you used it for that, sorry to say, but you failed, bud.

You hit send, and then there's nothing but silence. Miles' profile goes inactive. A heavy sigh escapes you as you berate yourself for possibly jumping to conclusions. It's a huge college, and you weren't the only one helping others during finals.

Laughing at yourself for even entertaining the thought, you swipe off the app and impulsively delete it, your heart sinking just a bit.

But just before the app disappears, a new text notification from Miles appears, lost amidst your hasty decision. You don't see it, consumed by your self-doubt and the decision to move on, leaving the possibility of what might have been with Miles unanswered.

The following week, as you return to your mythology class to discuss a possible makeup exam with your professor, a hooded figure sitting near the door catches your attention. You take the empty seat next to them, unaware of their sudden tenseness and subtle shift in posture.

Lost in your own world, you mindlessly scroll through your phone, diving into the latest #fnafxreader stories.

Your AirPods are in, blaring Keane's "Frog Prince." The lyrics resonate with you in the moment—"Your prince's crown...Cracks and falls down...Your castle hollow and cold."

Meanwhile, the figure next to you is engrossed in their own phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a text popping up on your phone from the dorm floor group chat. It's about Miles going live.

For a brief second, you consider redownloading TikTok to join in, but the gripping Michael Afton x reader fanfic you're reading—as well as lingering embarrassment—holds your attention too tightly.

You make a mental note to ask your dorm-floor friends for a recap later—they're just as obsessed with this cute TikTok love story as you are, and you've spent many evenings in the lounge room discussing it. So, with a swipe, you dismiss the notification and dive back into your story, the intriguing plotline drawing you in once more.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the terror that courses through your veins. Blood trickles from the cuts scattered across your body, the result of your desperate attempts to escape. Gasping for breath, you glance at your watch: 5:25 AM. 'Just 35 minutes to go,' you tell yourself, your mind clinging to the hope of surviving until dawn. You push forward, your feet pounding against the cold, hard floor of the empty corridor. The eerie silence is punctuated only by your labored breathing and the distant, ominous hum of the pizzeria. You can almost feel the malevolent gaze of the animatronics lurking in the shadows. As you turn a corner, a chilling sound freezes you in your tracks – the unmistakable metallic thunks of someone, or something, pursuing you. Panic surges through you. 'Shit, shit, shit,' you curse under your breath, your eyes desperately searching for a haven. Spotting a room nearby, you lunge towards it, slamming the door shut behind you. From beyond the door, a hauntingly familiar voice sings out. "Y/N~" Michael's voice is taunting, playful yet sinister. "It's not nice to run away during a playdate~" Your eyes narrow, and your lips press into a thin line as his words seep into your ears, sending shivers down your spine. Memories flood back to the day you saw Michael's true nature – the day he and your brother cruelly played with little Evan, placing his head inside the mechanical Fazbear head. That moment should have been a warning sign of the madness lurking within Michael, but you never anticipated how his obsession would turn towards you. Now, trapped in your role as a security officer at the pizzeria, you find yourself not only evading the demonic animatronics but also Michael, whose fixation has morphed into a deadly game of cat and mouse. The room you've taken refuge in feels claustrophobic, the air thick with tension. You press your back against the door, listening intently to the sounds outside. Every creak and whisper heightens your fear, and you brace yourself for what might come next. This pizzeria, once a place of joy and laughter, has become a labyrinthine nightmare, and escaping unscathed feels more impossible with each passing second. BAM—the door...

The intensity of the fanfic is cut short by your notification bar going off incessantly. There are so many messages coming in from the group chat that you can hardly read a thing. With a huff, you click off the fanfic to see what all the fuss is about. "It better not be another fire drill because someone was smoking," you bitterly think, recalling the last time you all had to stand out in the cold at 3 in the morning because someone smoked in the dorms.

As you open the group chat, you're bombarded with messages, all talking about Miles' current live session. The excitement in the chat is palpable, but you can't help feeling a bit detached, still nursing the sting of your recent embarrassment.

Just as the flurry of texts seems to slow down, you finally have a moment to catch up on a few messages before another wave hits.

Toni No because Miles is freaking out on live because he sees his crush and doesn't know what to do!!

Kiko Didn't he post earlier that he think he might have gotten in contact with them recently???

The chat erupts again before you can process this.

Kyi The live is BOOOMING! AHHHH! WAIT HE SAID HE'S LOGGING OFF AND FINNA SPEAK AJUSHGSBSBHSA

Your curiosity piques, but before you can delve deeper, a deluge of new messages floods the chat, making it nearly impossible to keep up.

You start to type a message, asking for more details, but you're interrupted by a throat-clearing sound. You look up, wide-eyed, half-expecting to see your professor giving you a disapproving look.

It wouldn't be the first time you've been caught off-guard while reading. Instead, the source of the interruption isn't your professor at all. It's the figure seated to your left.

Turning your head, your lips are pulled into a slight pout, a mixture of frustration from the incessant chatter in the chat and the unexpected disturbance.

As your gaze settles on the person next to you, your brain takes a moment to register who it is.

It's Miles.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. There, in the flesh, is Miles, the same guy you've been reading about, discussing with friends, and watching from afar on TikTok. He's right beside you, the subject of the flurry of messages on your phone.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you're speechless, the line between the virtual world and reality blurring strikingly.

Miles' eyes roam over your face, as if he can't quite believe you're real. He clears his throat again, looking away briefly as his ears and the apples of his cheeks flush a light pink. "I-..." He pauses, collecting his thoughts, then meets your eyes again, his expression morphing into a half-cute, boyish smile. "Thanks for the notecards. I still don't get why our professor thought it was realistic to remember the birthplace of Odysseus's fake alias, Quintus Metellus, from 'The Odyssey.' I mean, who actually remembers he claimed to be from Crete?" he jokes.

You return his smile, feeling a sense of ease. "Heh, I try. As you could see from those cards, I really didn't want to fail."

Miles chuckles, sitting up straighter, a newfound confidence in his voice. "Hey, I don't blame you. Honestly, if it wasn't for you, I would've had to repeat this class, no joke."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you wave off his compliment. "Please," you giggle, "I've heard about you from my doormmates; you're practically a genius in chemistry. Acing exams, breezing through lectures, even correcting the professor once or twice."

At your words, Miles looks bashfully at you, his lips curling into a sweet smile, his head tilting slightly as he gazes at you, almost as if he's seeing you for the first time. His eyes wander over your features—from your eyes to your nose, then your lips—as if trying to memorize every detail.

In his look, there's a sense of yearning and awe, reminiscent of how Hippolytus might have gazed upon the goddess Artemis in his final moments, a look filled with admiration for something pure and unattainable, his expression tinged with the bittersweet understanding of beauty admired under the shadow of an unjust fate.

This gaze, filled with a mix of reverence and a hint of sadness, seems to say you are his Artemis, a figure of innocent wonderment amidst the complexities of his world.

"What?" you ask teasingly, raising an eyebrow to mask your growing fluster.

"It's just… you're really cool," His voice carries a soft tone, mixed with endermeant.

You smile and shrug lightly, a playful tone in your voice. "What can I say? I'm awesome."

A soft smile spreads across Miles' face, his eyes softening in a way that leaves you momentarily breathless. The usual intensity that lingers in his gaze transforms into something tender, a warmth that seems to reach out and touch you. "Yeah... you are," he says, his voice low and filled with a gentle observation that seems to see not just you, but into you.

The way he says it, with such earnestness and a hint of awe, makes your heart flutter in a way you hadn't anticipated. It's as if his words carry more than just a simple affirmation; they are laced with an unspoken admiration.

It's your turn to clear your throat and look away to try and compose yourself. Your thoughts are interrupted as the professor's office door swings open, and out walks a blonde-haired girl.

"Now Gwen, I want this to be the last year you retake my course—" Professor Osborn starts, but Gwen cuts him off with an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she says dismissively. "But be real, Mr. Osborn. I wouldn't have to retake your course for the third time if the other subjects in your department were competent to teach their subjects."

"Yes, but focusing solely on mythological romances isn't going to get you very far, Gwen. You need to balance it out with another course," the professor retorts.

Gwen sighs and waves a hand dismissively as she walks away. "Yeah, got it," she mumbles, her gaze briefly landing on you and Miles. There's a momentary linger in her eyes, especially on Miles, before she continues on her way.

Professor Osborn clears his throat, calling up Miles and apologizing for the delay. "No problem, sir," Miles reassures him, getting up to follow. He slows his steps as he reaches you, leaning in slightly. "I'll wait for you after your appointment, yeah?"

You can only muster a nod, still finding everything surreal. As Miles walks into the professor's office, you're left alone with your thoughts, the weight of the moment settling around you.

You realize that this isn't just a fleeting encounter; it feels like the beginning of something new, something real.

As you wait for your turn with the professor, your mind races with possibilities. The unexpected twist of fate that brought you and Miles together in this academic setting, away from the screens and chats, feels like something out of a story.

Yet, here you are, living it.

When your appointment with the professor ends, you step out, finding Miles waiting as promised. His smile is warm, inviting, and for the first time, you feel a sense of excitement about what lies ahead. "Wanna grab lunch in the U-Center?" he asks, and you can't help but smile back, nodding in agreement.

As you walk alongside Miles, chatting about mythology, classes, and everything in between, you realize that sometimes, life has a way of bringing stories off the screen and into reality.

And perhaps, just maybe, this is the start of your own real-life story.

A/N: ahahaahah. not me indulging in college romance. y'all im just out here being delusional and need and outlet 💀💀

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 31

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Is it Monday already?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You sit in the waiting room, anxious and squirmy as Andy keeps his hand on yours. When you start to fidget, he squeezes and you stop. He doesn't tell you to but you can sense his agitation. It only adds to your own impatience.

When Dr. Kemp emerges to call you in, you have to keep yourself from jumping up. You're caught in the urge to both run away and run towards him. With all the thoughts you've had about him, especially while exploring, you're set alight just at the sight of him.

Andy accompanies you in. You almost forgot he would be there too. You near Kemp with a smile and he watches you with placid blue eyes. His coolness makes you self-conscious. The one thing you can never tell him is how he makes you feel.

He welcomes you in as usual. Before you can claim the chair you often sit in, Andy nudges you towards the chaise long. You hesitate but redirect, sitting with him on the dimpled leather.

Dr. Kemp shuts the door and crosses the office, sitting in the other chair as he leans an arm against the side. He gives a thoughtful hum as he considers both of you. Andy reaches to put his hand over yours, once more tightening his grip.

"So… how are things? Are we seeing progress?" Kemp asks brightly. "I'm sensing… improvement."

You just nod as Andy clears his throat and shifts. "I think… I think so," his fingers twiddle on his other thigh, "we have been… intimate. Somewhat, right, honey?"

You shy away and give another nod. Humiliated.

"In what way?" Kemp prompts.

You nearly choke and look at him with round eyes.

"This is a safe space, so we can be honest," he coaxes as he notes your shock, "have you both… tend to each other?"

Andy sighs and his fingers curl around yours. You wince.

"Yeah, but… she… she drank a bit too much so… she doesn't remember…" Andy huffs, "so… I tried."

"I'm sorry," you squeak, "I didn't mean to."

"Hm, and is there a reason you were drinking?" Kemp asks you.

"Well, uh, no. Andy gave me a beer, so– I don't really–"

"So you gave her a drink and are mad that it affected her?" He challenges Andy and you flinch again. 

"She's an adult–"

"All and well but you can't get upset. What can you expect?" Kemp reprimands and Andy tenses, grumbling under his breath. 

"So," Kemp redirects back to you, "you have… shown Andy that you're committed? Spoken in his love language, but has he done the same for you?"

You struggle not to rip your hand out of Andy's. You don't know what to say. You don't know what you want, especially from Andy. 

"I… guess. I don't know?" You sputter, "he… he's nice. He…"

"I buy her things, I do stuff for her all the time–" Andy interjects.

"Please," Kemp silences him with a wave of his hand, "Andy is obviously an affectionate person, but what do you need?"

You gulp and shrug. You really don't know. You just open and close your mouth like a fish.

"Here's what we do. Andy, you cool it. The next time you do anything, I want her to initiate. And I don't want you," he points at you, "to do what he wants. You figure out what you need and that's what you do, understand?"

You swallow, lightheaded. You know what he means but you don't want to think about it. What if what you want isn't Andy?

"The next time we check in, I think I should do another housecall…" Kemp says, "and after this, we'll have our usual one-on-one. For now, I want to do a few exercises between you two…"

You blink rapidly. There's so much to do. That was always the worst feeling, knowing you had an insurmountable list ahead of you. Steps, that's what the doctor always says, little steps.

🕊️

Andy leaves and your private session begins. You’re nervous, still scalded from the conversation about intimacy. You fidget as you tuck yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to shrink down as much as you can.

Dr. Kemp stands and walks casually to the window. He doesn’t say anything right away. You wilt in the silence, wondering if you should start. How do you do that though? What do you say?

Your head races with the messages on your tablet. It’s so much easier to talk to him through a screen. Face-to-face, you’re embarrassed at everything you’ve shared with him under the deceitful protection of distance.

He turns to face you, smiling as he leans on the window ledge. He crosses his arms and you see how his chest flexes under his shirt. You try not to focus on that, bringing your eyes back to your twiddling fingers.

“Let’s focus on you,” he puts one foot in front of the other, uncrossing his arms to fix his left cuff. “You’ve been… exploring.”

You chew your lip. Oh gosh. Why did you ever let him convince you to do that? And why had you done it every day since? 

“Now, don’t be shy. You know I won’t judge you. I wouldn’t encourage it if it was bad,” he comes forward slowly and sits at the other end of the couch, “can I ask you something?”

You nod, staring at your lap. You lean into the armrest, slouching as heat nips at your cheeks. You feel terribly dizzy. Even if he’s not that close, he’s crowding you.

“Why are you so… let me restart that. What has made you so… reticent about your sexuality?” He asks.

You shake your head. You can’t speak. It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know what makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“You never… never tried anything before? Never been curious?” He prompts.

You swallow and hunch forward, speaking to the carpet, “a little.” You clasp your hands tight, forcing them still, “but… it hurt. So I stopped and… just forgot about it.”

“The other day. Did it still hurt you?”

You shake your head again. 

“That’s good,” he praises and the couch jostles as he moves closer. He keeps some space between you as he reaches to touch your shoulder, “it’s not shameful. You’re just getting to know yourself. You’re taking care of yourself, sweetie. And That’s a good thing.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with a nod, his touch electrifying.

“So you can take what you learn about yourself and show Andy. Share it with him,” he suggests.

You’re quiet. You shrug off his hand and look away. You can’t tell him the truth. About why you enjoyed it so much. You don’t really understand it yourself. It’s probably doesn’t mean anything.

“Doctor,” you push your chin back down and sense him lean in, listening to you intently. “What… what if when I… did it, I wasn’t thinking of Andy?”

He takes a breath and lets his hand rest on the cushion between you. He leans an elbow on his thigh as his gaze sears into you. His fingers tap as he thinks.

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s not uncommon to have fantasies. They’re only that, they’re not real. So who are you hurting?” He drags his hand back and shrugs, “does that make sense?”

Your lips part and you make yourself sit up. You feel lighter. Yeah, you suppose it can’t hurt Andy if he doesn’t know who you think of. Or Steve.

“I guess,” you agree.

“Great,” he sits back, “so who did you think of?”

You look at him in shock. He chuckles at your expression and waves you off. You frown, heart pumping wildly.

“You don’t have to say,” he reaches over to lightly tap your knee, “I was just being nosy.”

“Oh,” you pick at your fingernail.

“Being funny,” he says, “let’s redirect. Anything new this week? New books? How’s the painting going?”

You peek at him, biting your cheek. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. That’s crazy, you’re the only person in this room. He has nothing else to distract him. You’re being silly. You love Andy, not Dr. Kemp.

🕊️

You yawn at the canvas as you focus on the details of the feathers. Your work is coming together. You might be done soon. You’re at that point where you just don’t want to stop because you can see the end.

Andy doesn’t feel the same. The last time he checked in on you, he clucked at your response. It’s Saturday night, he reminds you. Yes, well, doesn’t that mean you can stay up late?

You can hear him inside the house as he grabs another beer. He had one for dinner and after as you excused yourself to paint. Is that his third? Fourth? You don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t count.

Your eyes are itchy and you long to close them and let the tension out of your shoulder. That’s another thing that keeps you at the easel. As much as you long for bed, you’re nervous about sleeping in Andy’s bed. After the day’s therapy session, you feel like you have to do something. Something you’re not ready for.

You rinse your brush and step back. You go to your tablet to check your reference image, accidentally swiping over to a different draft. It’s a sketch you did the other day, only half-finished. It’s Amber, or supposed to be.

Your heart sinks. You remember slamming the cover on the tablet after realising you couldn’t remember exactly how she looked. You remember her smell, her voice, her warmth, but you just couldn’t get the slant of her nose right, you couldn’t make her eyes sparkle just so.

You quickly push the image away, looking for the falcon crest, but your motivation quickly dies. You don’t want to paint anymore. Neither do you want to go inside. Even if it is awfully chilly out here.

The TV blares from inside the house. You can hear it even through several walls. You wonder if you’re making too much noise or if it’s something else. 

You tap on the screen listlessly, realising too late that you’re staring at the chat with Dr. Kemp. It’s too late to message him. You’ll wait until tomorrow. Yeah, you can’t bother him this late.

By some eerie coincidence, a new message pops up before you can close the chat. You wipe your hand on your stained tee shirt as you read it. ‘Have a good night, sweetie. You did very well today’.

You go over the letters over and over again. You smile to yourself but quickly wipe it away. He’s only being nice.

‘Thank you. Have a good night.’

You send the message and leave the tablet on the small table. You start cleaning up, taking your time as you dread the other side of the wall. Andy won’t be happy you waited so long, but he might be too tired to be angry with you.

You grab your tablet and pause, reading the unexpected new message; ‘you going to bed?’

You bite your thumb. What should you say? Well, you should be honest, right?

‘Soon. Hope I can sleep.’ You tap the arrow and sway, looking up at the garage door. You really should just say good night and go inside.

‘What’s keeping you awake?’

Oh, gosh. End it. Stop talking. There was enough of that earlier. You’re typing before you can stop yourself.

‘Amber.’

That’s it. The only word you can manage. Off goes the bubble and almost immediately those three dots appear on his side of the chat. Then they disappear.

The chirp from your tablet surprises you. You nearly drop it but smack the screen instead, inadvertently answering the call. Oh no! He must’ve hit the wrong button.

You see Dr. Kemp on the screen and in the corner, your own face looks back. You sputter as you notice his bare shoulders, distracted from hating your reflection. You gasp.

“Oops,” you utter with a nervous chuckle.

“You’re thinking of Amber?” He asks without a beat.

“Um, yeah, but– Dr. Kemp, it’s late. We can talk next week. I’m sorry.”

“I called for a reason. I’m not Dr. Kemp right now, I’m Steve. Your friend,” he stares at you, smiling as you notice the odd angle. 

He must be sitting down, maybe he was getting ready for bed, that would explain his lack of shirt. You can’t even see that much, just the top of his chest. Don’t think about it. Maybe he doesn’t even realise.

“My friend?”

“Of course,” he coaxes, “so tell me, what are you thinking about Amber?”

You shrug and look away with a pout. You don’t know if you should say. You should’ve mentioned it earlier. You’re wasting his time.

“Aw, you miss her, sweetie? That’s normal. She’s your sister.”

You turn back to the tablet. You can’t help the tremble in your chin. You miss her, yes, but more than that. There’s not a word that can express how deeply you feel in that moment. You love Amber so much but you’re ashamed of how you used her for so long. Then you abandoned her.

“Did you decide if you want to invite her to Thanksgiving? I think that’s a great idea,” he says.

“Oh, uh… Andy wouldn't… I don’t know,” you mumble and turn, glancing at the door, suddenly paranoid he might hear you. “I should… it’s very late. I should go to bed.”

He nods. His hair is slightly askew, it’s usually so neat and tidy. He has a bit of stubble poking through along his jaw. He looks more handsome than you’ve ever seen him. You can barely think.

“Alright, I won’t keep you. You need a good night’s sleep, right? Because you have to take care of yourself, right?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Steve,” he corrects.

You giggle, “yes, Steve.”

“Okay, go on,” he shifts the tablet, “chat tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you promise, “good night.”

“Night,” he winks.

The call ends and you stare at the screen. Your chest flutters as you make yourself close the cover. You feel bubbly like you could float. And something else. Something that needs to be quelled. A deep need that has your fingers tingle for that familiar buzz.

[lululandd]

pretence;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1,111

warnings: you’re kortac and also ghost’s ex, fluff

notes: written with my oc’s wholeass background in mind so idk if this will make that much sense (im too shy to ask someone to beta)

summary:

You know that sweet precipice right between being awake and falling asleep? That’s where you happily were before rudely disturbed by a knock on your door. With a groan and a grumble, you gingerly sat up on the 141 base’s creaky bed ready to greet whoever it is on the other side with a glare.

It was Simon.

“What?” A sore remembrance fills your heart and you unconsciously clench your jaw.

There was almost an apologetic look in his eyes when you stared up at him, “Wanted to check up on your arm.”

“It’s fine, Simon.” you vaguely gestured around you, “There’s like two hundred people here. If I speak a little louder, Roze is next door ready to help, or re-break my arm, depending on why I made a ruckus.”

You see him subtly shift his weight from one leg to the other, “What’s wrong with you? Can’t sleep?” When he didn't reply, you asked him with a resigned sigh, “Do you wanna come in?”

He side-stepped inside the moment you opened the door a little wider. You see him clench and unclench his fist reflexively inside his jacket pocket, apprehension emanating from his being as if he had done something wrong and is afraid of oncoming consequences.

Seeing him in such distress annoyed you a little bit. He was still the same man you dated ages ago, with the same mannerisms and same behaviour. The same Simon Riley who broke up with you out of the blue with a single post-it note and a dead phone number. As much as that broke your heart and trust in him—and anyone else that came after—it would be a lie if you said you don't have some lingering feelings towards him.

“Allright, bend over.” You instructed.

When he bent over with face away and his ass facing towards you, you couldn’t help but suppress a laugh. “The other way, idiot.”

He straightened his back, turned around, then bent at the hips and knees, making his face somewhat level to yours. You can see the fine lines on the outer corners of his eyes along with the sun-damage where his mask doesn’t cover his face.

A small little peck wouldn’t hurt, would it? The evil little part of your brain assures you that this is completely normal and you’re just helping him feel better so he can sleep.

Feeling you kiss his mask, he stood back up and removed it startlingly quick, making you jump back a little. He shoved the mask in his pocket before fixing his hair, shuffling it around, making it look a little more decent.

Moving slightly to his side as he lowered himself, you lift your hand and gently cradle the far side of his cheek before landing a soft kiss on his temple, his crooked nose, the corner of his mouth, and finally where his dimple would be if he smiled.

It showed itself as he actually did smile, first towards the wall in front of him, then towards you. “That it? Remember getting more back then.”

You tapped his cheek lightly, “Uh huh.”

He looked around your room as he stood up, his knees not so subtly cracking as he did. “Aight. Just making sure you’re fine.”

The man was always like this. You knew if he did something remotely affectionate, he had mulled over the action for hours, if not days. Simon cares about a lot of people, but he has learnt from years of experience it’s much easier for him to care from afar. Looking up records to see how people progress, eavesdropping conversations, pretending to be at the medic building the same time as the people he wanted to check up on, but if he comes up to someone personally it means he didn’t get the answer he sought for and nothing he previously did alleviates the worry and concern.

Studying his bare face, you saw something that made you want to laugh again, so you dragged him to the little cubicle of a bathroom and stood him in front of the sink with you next to him. The mirror was at a completely wrong height for him so he had to bend and brace himself on the small sink. The tight space could barely fit you both.

“Do you see it?” You started, smiling ear to ear as you looked at him from the mirror.

Simon stared at himself, then at you in the mirror, the actual you, and then back at himself. “All I’m seeing is self restraint to not pin you to the sink right now.”

You groaned at that, but tried to keep focus. “Your face has three shades.“ you pointed at the obvious discoloration around his eyes, “ There’s the tan not covered by the balaclava,” then you pointed at the more subtle tanned blend around his mouth up to his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. “The part not covered by the skull mask, and then the skull shaped part that’s safe from all the sun. Do you see?”

His eyes widened when he finally caught on to what you said and scrambled closer to the mirror, prodding his face. “Bloody fucking hell, I look like a fucking muppet.”

“You know, since it’s already tanned in the shape of a skull…You could use it as a base for a face tattoo.” It was now his turn to glare at you, so you continued, “Wouldn’t it be really funny if one day you get unmasked by an enemy and then they just see another skull?”

He was about to retort when he stopped himself as he saw you try to hide a yawn.

“Get some sleep, lov—“ He stopped mid word as he caught himself. “I mean, yeah you need some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling his hand on your lower back as he guided you out of the shower brought you back to that distant feeling of safety and security that was always present when you’re around him. Maybe he wants another chance, maybe he really was just worried about your broken arm, but you won’t know if you don’t do anything about it.

“Goodnight, Simon.” Twisting away from his hold, you faced him and raised your good arm and leaned in for a hug.

It came as a surprise when he stepped back and held you a little way away from him. “Don’t. It’ll put pressure on your arm.”

“How about you start worrying when we get home and it’s just the two of us?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna take care of me once you’re on leave right? Make sure I don’t go hugging people or sleep on my side or accidentally bang my bad elbow on the edge of a very sharp kitchen counter.”

“You’re fucking evil.”

Despite the acid bite in his tone, he showed up at your door two weeks later, both arms gingerly wrapped around your back, enveloping you in a gentle hug.

[mintywolf]

A Long Road Home - Page 62 Author Notes

Page 62

Whew! So there’s the first chapter. Two (?) more to go!

I thought I’d share my early character notes from back when I was getting ready to write the script, mid-late 2022, compiled from observation, what extra facts we had at the time from 4SD, and my own headcanons. Not everything made it into the comic but it helped me codify my interpretation of them.

***

Imogen

Physical Traits: Recently 26 at the beginning of the story. Long, light purple hair in soft, wavy curls. Often wears it braided when she’s working on the farm or riding. Violet eyes. Fair skin with a dusting of freckles across her cheeks, shoulders, and arms. Tendency to sunburn. Sweet round face and a soft figure. Around 5’4”. Slight gap between her front teeth. Dimples. Always looks a little sleep-deprived. Glowing purple lightning-shaped scars starting on the inside of her wrists and extending over her hands and wrapping over the back of her wrists. Prefers light-colored, soft, flowy clothing. Light Taloned Highlands accent that becomes more pronounced when she’s angry or being deliberately charming.

Personality Traits: Shy, thoughtful, reserved. Uncomfortable in crowds because of the strain on her psychic energy and social situations are physically and emotionally exhausting for her. Can nevertheless exude Southern charm when the situation calls for it. Genuinely kind and caring towards people she trusts but it takes a while for them to earn that trust. Her passive access to everyone’s thoughts makes it hard for her to see the good in people, which can lead her to be cynical or even cruel. Hidden tendency for destructive, remorseless anger that belies her “innocent” appearance. Can hold a grudge. Enjoys the company of animals more than humans (with the single exception of Laudna). Secretly struggling with very deep doubts about her own worth, especially since she has become progressively more emotionally distanced from people since the beginning of her psychic powers 8 years ago. Before Laudna’s arrival the pain and loneliness caused by her powers (as well as her bleak outlook on the rest of the world from everyone else’s terrible thoughts) have pushed her to the brink of despair. Staunchly insists that she is Fine even when that is clearly untrue.

Quirks: The lightning markings grow a little bit up her arms whenever she exerts her powers in a significant way. Needs glasses but she’s never had her eyesight checked so she doesn’t have them. Tugs on her earlobes when she’s stressed. Prone to headaches and panic attacks when the presence of a lot of other people overwhelms her psychic abilities. Uses Mage Hand creatively and for convenience in a variety of situations. Summer birthday. Likes strawberries and lemonade. Afraid of heights, or more specifically, afraid of falling from a great height. Smells faintly of sun-warmed grass and ozone. Has a good singing voice but almost no one has heard it. Likes to be clean, hates the feeling of being sweaty/sticky/grimy. Enjoys having her scalp massaged or her back scratched, especially by Laudna’s long fingernails.

Terms of endearment used: honey, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart

Laudna

Physical Traits: Actually 51 but became ageless a few weeks shy of 20. Has been dead-ish for 31 of those years, so while she hasn’t aged much she has deteriorated over time. Corpse-pale and skeleton-thin, covered in old scars, significantly a faint rope scar on her neck under her chin. Long, bony fingers. Wears gold ear jewelry for elves to hide the fact that her ears were cropped into points. Around 5’9” but her thinness and general mien makes her appear taller than she is. Long, scraggly black hair with a white forelock. Kind of wavy with tighter curls towards the ends. Her features are doll-like and delicate but slightly too big for her face in a way that is charming but a little off-putting. (Protuberant eyes, long nose, wide smile.) Big, dark eyes with dilated pupils. (Apparently permanently, so she is sensitive to light but can see very well in the dark.) Very wide smile with uneven teeth. Cold and clammy to the touch. Thin, fragile skin. Her blood moves slowly and is very dark (although still red). Cries inky black tears. Knows Mending as a cantrip but evidently does not apply it often to her own clothes. Speaks with an elevated posh Whitestone accent, except when she’s being serious. Her “natural” voice is more subdued, with a huskiness to it from an old throat injury that comes out more when she’s upset. A little too loose-limbed. Moves in a peculiarly graceful/graceless, jerky fashion, like something being puppeted by unseen strings. Dislikes wearing shoes.

Personality Traits: She is simultaneously a world-weary middle-aged woman and a child who was frozen on the cusp of adulthood and will never age. Over the years her persistent optimism has become less the product of naiveté and more of determination; she has made the best of every awful situation she’s been put in because what else is she going to do. Like Imogen she has seen a lot of the worst of people, and before she meets her she is timid and twitchy from many years of loneliness and being a general object of distrust and mistreatment wherever she goes, but once she finds her, her vivacious, excitable, and affectionate personality starts to emerge. Very earnest -- not much disconnect between what she thinks and what she says, and not much filter, either. Eager to be useful. Has some trouble picking up on social cues or knowing how to behave appropriately in certain social situations. Tends to stand too close to people when trying to talk to them. Desperately wants to love and be loved. Very protective of Imogen but secretly afraid she’s undeserving of her affection. Worries about being a burden or a danger to her. When overwhelmed or uncomfortable she will sometimes speak through Pâté about herself rather than for herself. When very deeply upset she withdraws into herself and seems to become inanimate.

Quirks: Very rarely still -- she’s always in motion, fidgeting, picking things up to look at or fiddle with, reaching out to touch things in the environment, fluttering her hands when talking, lacing her fingers together, swaying or rocking when sitting or standing. (She is only completely still when she’s asleep, unconscious, or very deeply withdrawn, and then the difference between that and her usual animated self is unsettling.) Tends to stutter when agitated or excited. When thoughtful or anxious she fidgets with her hair, and can pull it out without meaning to when particularly upset. Puts her fingers in her mouth regardless of how clean they are. Has a habit of collecting things that look like trash to other people but she thinks might be useful, with a particular fondness for broken, discarded objects. Sometimes she mends them, sometimes she just loves them as they are. (Also has a hard time letting go of things past their usefulness, e.g. expired vegetables that Imogen is begging her to be allowed to compost but Laudna is insisting parts of them are still good.) Winter birthday. Likes apples and sweet baked goods, gingerbread in particular.  Her joints dislocate easily, in particular her right shoulder, but pop back into place just as easily. (She was dragged by the arm either from the dining room or to the tree.) Smells like wet earth and decaying leaves. Experiences occasional dizziness from low blood pressure and is vulnerable to motion sickness. Vehement dislike for the feeling of rough fabric against her skin. Can’t wear necklaces or any clothing with a tight collar.

Terms of endearment used: darling, dearest, my love

Matilda

Physical traits: When alive, she still had pale skin and black hair, although of a more human complexion and her hair was fuller with better-defined curls. (Still a little stringy though.) Still thin from hard times in Whitestone but of a more willowy sort than gaunt. Naturally kind of cold but still of a human body temperature. Dark brown eyes. Big smile. Still fidgety. Larger than average ears.

Personality: Still a weirdo! Eager to have friends but had trouble making and keeping them and so was often lonely, with a very imaginative inner life. Kind of vague and dreamy, in part from being frequently dosed with laudanum to suppress her weirdness and make her sit still. Never outgrew playing with dolls, and secretly always kind of believed they have feelings.

Quirks: Liked to collect things: rocks, bones, feathers, discarded trinkets. Made some of her own toys out of odds and ends. Had a pet frog that she carried around in her apron pocket. The kind of child who would disappear all day and return covered in dirt with holes in her clothes. Because of her inherent shadow powers she had a tendency to startle her parents by accidentally sneaking up on them, and was always a little hurt when they reacted in alarm to see her there.

When Laudna is scared or distressed, particularly after an upsetting experience, she will sometimes regress into who she used to be. She drops her posh accent, and her mannerisms become smaller and timid. She will seek reassurance in childlike things, playing with her dolls and wanting the comfort of someone else’s closeness. If she can’t get that comfort from Imogen, she will seek it from Delilah.

Relvin Temult

Physical traits: Broad-shouldered and sturdy, with a tendency to stoop. Dark blond, longish hair & a scruffy beard. Tanned from outdoor work. In his mid 40’s. (So Imogen was born when he and Liliana were in their early 20’s or even late teens. It is possible that Liliana’s powers manifested around the same age as Imogen’s did.)

Personality: Taciturn, somewhat dour. Dearly loves Imogen but can’t help feeling some resentment for the exile her powers forced on them and he’s a little afraid of her psychic ability. Rightfully suspicious that she could be eavesdropping on his thoughts, he has distanced himself from her. Still calls her “Genny” and “butterbean” as nicknames. Misses the closeness they used to have, and despite the distance between them he is desperate to hold on to her since she is all the family he has left.

He is literally Just A Guy. He wanted to live a normal small town life raising horses with his family but unfortunately his wife and then his daughter turned out to be cursed by the moon with devastating psychic powers.

Dolores Garrod

Physical traits: Early middle-aged, dark blonde hair, narrow green eyes, stocky build. Narrow scar on the left side of her face. She’s probably of an age that she could have served in the Apex War.

Personality: Former sheriff, resents losing her position of power and feels she could do a better job for the town than the current one. Not afraid to resort to violence to protect the town. Very protective of her young son. She does not place much faith in the gods, particularly since they don’t seem to be doing anything about either the witch walking around town or the plague she is believed to have brought down upon it, and puts her faith in the law instead.

***

Thank you for reading!! Whether you’ve come across my comic recently or whether you’ve been with it since the beginning, I’m so happy you’re here. <3

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

An idea that  @spectrum-spectre had inspired a scene in the dark pits of my mind.  Soulmate  AU’s in which people see color at the sight of their soulmate. The rules aren’t specific on whether that is only true if the meeting is in person, or if looking at photographs or videos brings on the same effect.  Soulmates AU Part 2 ---------------------------- Steve returns from the kitchen holding a large bowl of popcorn and two cans of coke from the fridge. Dustin’s been staying with him for a while, and as usual their afternoon consisted of watching television until their bodies screamed for sleep.  This particular afternoon Steve let Dustin choose what they’d watch. Dustin was usually left to make the choice simply because Steve wanted him to be comfortable, but it wasn’t something they mentioned. He’d so far been enjoying Dustin’s pick, the MTV music awards. There had been several artist that Steve adored. Tears for Fears. Madonna.  Dustin however was watching for Corroded Coffin, his newest favorite band that he listened to seemingly nonstop these days. The kid was obsessed, but again Steve didn’t complain because his home was Dustin’s home if he accepted it. It was nice to have someone around to liven up the overwhelming emptiness of the Harrington estate.  Steve set the popcorn down on the coffee table, dropping down next to Dustin on the couch, when his eyes came up to see the television screen color burst from the center of his gaze flooding out to adjust his vision until everything settled and grey was changed with vivid colors he’d only heard about in books.  His soulmate... the only issue was the angle of the camera was showing dozen’s of faces. He’d never be able to tell which one of them sparked the change. It was the whole point of it, making finding soulmates easier. Of course Steve would find a way to fuck his up.... he’d never find them. That show was several states away, the likelyhood of ending up in a room with one of them was nearly impossible. Even if he did, now he wouldn’t have a way to tell him who it was.  “ I think I am going to go to bed..” Steve hums.  “ Bed? Steve it’s eight thirty? “  “ Yeah... Work was just a lot today and I guess it’s just hitting me how tired I am” Steve explained.  Dustin didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t argue.  “ Okay.. Goodnight man. “  “ Night”  Steve cried his eyes out that night... over someone he didn’t even know.  ----------- “ thanks for driving me Steve.. I can’t believe they are coming Chicago on a day I can actually attend the convention. “ Dustin stood next to him in the line to get in to meet one of the guy’s from Corroded Coffin.. Steve planned on leaving the line before Dustin went behind the curtain, but he didn’t feel like being alone in here. Everyone seemed chill.. He was just feeling overwhelmed.  “ No problem Dustin.”  Slowly the line progressed foward, Steve eventually dropping out to go stand at the edge of the booth to wait. Letting himself get distracted by the excitement of those leaving the booth. Smiling at them as they ran out with their autographed pictures. He caught sight of Eddie.. or at least that’s who he assumed it was with the sign. The guy was pretty. His smile was bright and filled his face, dimples standing out to soften the rest of the edge his clothing might lead you to think he had.  When he heard Dustin’s voice Steve could only smile at the pure joy and excitement of the kid meeting one of his favorite people. He couldn’t remember hearing him so happy about anything other than when he’d finished building his Cerebro last summer.  The curtain opened, Steve’s eyes met Eddie’s for the first time that day as the man was telling Dustin goodbye.  They didn’t make it far from the booth before he heard someone calling Dustin’s name.. them both turning around to find Eddie running toward them.  “ Sorry I didn’t know your name...” Eddie apologized, taking Steve’s hands in his own. A small crowd forming around them with people muttering how Steve was living everyone's dream right now.  “ Steve? Is everything okay man? “ Steve questioned, Eddie’s face falling as he noticed the utter confusion written over Steve’s features.  “ you didn’t see it” Eddie questioned. “ See what?  “ The color? You didn’t. Oh shit. “  “ The color?..” Steve started, his eyes looking off in thought “ Oh... it was you. On the tv.. I must have seen you. “  “ TV? “  “ The MTV Awards...”  “ Steve that was nearly a year ago... you’ve had color for? “  “ Nearly a year yeah...”  “ Oh shit..” Eddie thought allowed, processing that the confusion was because Steve had been seeing color the whole time. “ Can I take you out sometime? You know if you want. I don’t know if you do this whole thing, but I think it would be pretty cool”  “ Eddie”  “ Yeah”  “ I’d love to go out with you sometime”  “ Great” Eddie cheered, a small smile pulling at his lips, offering his sharpie over to Steve. “ just write your number on my arm”  Eddie tugged his sleeve up to give Steve space in a place that could be hidden on his arm. Both of them smiling like fools the entire time.  “ You should get back to your fans.. “  “ Yeah.. I will call you tonight. “  “ I can’t wait” 

[cooloddball]

Ok, so I would like to throw in my opinion on the "fell first/fell harder" Lestappen take.

Let me preface this by saying I'm very new to F1 racing and am learning quickly about the sport and the racers (and falling absolutely in love with all these adorable goobers too!)

I only looked into it because a coworker of mine is in love with Daniel lol. In searching Daniel I found a pic of Charles and was IMMEDIATELY like 👀👀 'Damn ok I see you, gorgeous, who are you??' And in searching him, I saw MANY pics of him and MAX.

In lengthy conclusion, MY hot take is this: Max fell first in a heavy moment of bi panic. Let's face it, Charles is the kinda guy that could definitely make "straight" men questions themselves for a hot minute. I can FULLY see, understand, and sympathize with the idea of Karting Day Max being genuinely confused about what exactly it is he's feeling for Charles because, no, absolutely NOT is he attracted to boys! (Read: his dad would probably get pretty pissed to hear/know his champion racing "straight" son has a huge boy crush on his rival of all people)

So it's treated like an early school crush where you're young and immature and kinda mean to them only because you don't want them to know you actually like them, y'know? Plus, he has to be a bit ruthless! This is his rival, for corn's sake!

Flash forward, Max goes to F1, his crush probably simmers/dies down now that he's got all new focus. In comes Charles to F1 bringing all those emotions and memories back to the surface. But Max is determined to stay focused this time. And in this time I believe is when Charles starts really dealing with HIS side of the crush because look at (his) Max now! All grown up and racing in F1 and giving him a serious run for his money and looking damn fine while doing it and Charles has trouble not letting it effect him.

Eventually time progresses, they grow and mature and come to realize they're both equally deserving to be where they are at and they're both amazing drivers and Max has now allowed himself to start letting go of the school yard crush tendencies and started really appreciating Charles for who and what he is. I think he's now allowing himself to just enjoy being with and around Charles. He's come to realize he LOVES the giggles and the dimples and the shimmer in the sea green eyes and, hey, Charles is a damn good driver so why shouldn't he be honest about that and tell the world?

I look at his body language and how he acts and speaks around Charles (and vice versa) and, for all the years they've known each other, they're still so bashful and giddy around each other. I've noticed that when Charles might be giving an interview, Max will just walk over and start talking, and Charles gives him his FULL attention despite the fact he was originally talking to someone else first. Maybe Max and Charles can't have each other romantically, so they take the best they can get.

I'm so sorry for such a long (and probably confusing) rant but I've really no one else to talk with about this and I'm OBSSESSED with their obsession with each other that I could go on for literal HOURS about these two lovesick knuckleheads 🥰🥰

no apologies needed i love you and this ask because long asks are the best. i also like the fact that you are of a different opinion because we can’t all see things the same way.

as for the who fell first vs who fell harder i get why you see it that way but from my side i feel charles fell first because that’s who he is, like it would take something very little to happen for him to get a him to like something/someone and he loses interest just as quickly. meanwhile max is the kind of person who takes his time to understand things/ people and it takes a while to like these things/people but once he’s in it’ll take a lot to get out/dislike something etc.

also, as i mentioned in an earlier post, it’s charles’ “hostility” towards max when they were younger that did it for me. like from the lore we have there’s nothing that max could’ve done that warranted charles disliking him so much. and no, charles got his revenge for the inchident. i think charles realised he had a crush and max was oblivious (at first) because all he was focused on at the time was racing (thanks to jos 😡) so he probably didn’t care to form many relationships/friendships with the other karters which probably made charles feel some type of way like max didn’t care enough to like him so he decided “if it’s only racing you care about i might as well give you something to remember me by” so he focused his energy on racing against him and just outright being a track terror. little did he know that’s what max needed to steer him to liking him (charles)but it was too late, max had a target on his back…and here we are.

if you ever want to talk about them, i’m here to listen and offer whatever take.

[roomsofangel]

GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER NINE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none really!

wc 1.3k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

this chapter is in san’s pov !

a/n i decided to update this today and give you all a double update for growing pains since i know it has been a good while:( let me know what you guys think :D

san thought he knew a lot of things back when he was still a rosy cheeked kid with deeper dimples than he had now — when he still had a lot of hope in the world and nothing snuffed out his spark just yet.

and maybe now that he’s an adult with more emotional scars than before, he can say he never wants anyone to feel the way he did. not since that night, he refuses to let anyone feel as if he has given up on them. sometimes he wonders if thats who he is or the fact he just wished no one ever gave up on him.

this small town, oh the ache it carried when he decided to come back three years ago to care for his mother. it was best to not live these days in his own rues, he had to learn to accept the past and embrace the future, no matter how much it ached.

and for the most part, san was fully convinced he was healed from that chapter of his life — that he no longer needed medication to make him feel alright.

“and this is yeosang.”

ah, that made his world shatter. kang yeosang in the flesh.

his eyes couldn’t help but match the other’s when they narrowed, eyeing and taking in the sight of how he was sat before the sound of your voice came up again, “you can sit by me if you want to.”

and san felt his heart ache a little, well— does it count as an ache? he hasn’t felt anything in his chest like this before, unless it was to do with hurt and sorrow. san nods, “of course yn.” he smiled, and tried to ignore the feeling of a glare on him as he took a seat with you, your smile warming him up.

it seemed that time was going by achingly slow, but san was thankful for the three that were there. mingi seemed to be decent, he reminded him of wooyoung. he should text wooyoung later, he forgot to do so.

as the movie progressed, it was some romcom that san could recall watching with his sister years ago, he couldn’t remember the name but he could recall certain scenes as he tried to snack on the popcorn given and focus on the texture, the taste. he could feel your hand brush against his and he felt his face warm, why was he warm?

“personally, if she says i’m a bird i’m gonna be a bird.” mingi broke the silence with his hands raised up in defense, making yunho snort and san couldn’t help but laugh a little himself and nod along. “so are you?” he teased a little and mingi grinned

“i like this guy.” mingi motioned over to san who nodded his head in acknowledgment and returned the grin, yunho agreeing with a “right!”

but san didn’t miss one thing,

the one thing but san is he was too observant for his own good

so yeosang must have forgotten that san noticed everything, even the similar little scowl that he remembered all too well.

“no! like this!” mingi shoved yunho aside to get onto the snowy ground, laying on his back and spread out to begin making a snow angel, making yunho groan and find a new spot to make his own

san chuckled, turning his attention to you who quickly looked away and back at your brother, making his lips only curl up more. he was convinced his face would hurt later on. “are they always like this?” he asked, wondering out loud and asking you while you nod and laugh. “sadly.” you said in response, san chuckled

“thank you for inviting me, yn.” san whispered softly as his eyes glanced up at the night sky, the stars twinkling and he noticed the moon was full. god, it was beautiful. he always loved the moon, he loved the different meanings and the different phases. how can something so magnetic and beautiful also be so far?

his eyes glanced towards you, your rosy nose scrunching as you felt the snowflakes fall onto the bridge of your nose and melt on your skin, your focus more on the same moon he was admiring.

how can something so magnetic and beautiful feel so far?

san walked back to his home, holding his house keys while you followed behind, your little hums making him smile at the snowy ground that he tried to focus on, counting each little detail. “hey san,” your voice met his ears, and he hummed in response

“i’m glad you came tonight.” you said, the two of you reaching his doorstep and he thought this was comical in a way, maybe even endearing. you were walking him to his door this time, oh how the roles reversed but he didn’t mind. he’d do anything to spend just even another second with you.

san smiled, “me too.”

“i’ll.. see you around?” your voice got a bit higher towards the end, your feet backpedaling to walk away soon to get on your way back home but your gaze was still on him, cheeks and nose rosy. “you know where to find me.” he whispered, not letting his eyes leave you for one moment. no, he needed to every little detail of you tonight committed to memory.

you looked.. so beautiful, under the moonlight with the snowflakes in your hair. “goodnight, san.” you looked at him, and he nodded.

“goodnight, yn.”

you reminded san of the moon,

he just hoped he could be your sun.

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taglist (open) @myonlyloveseungmin @itsvxlentine @rockstarsanie @brown88 @barbielibra @vixensss @satsuri3su @yessa-vie @yoichiislovie

[yourstory-teller]

clingy bono fluff is a must

Hey bb, thank u for requesting, this was really fun to write. Hope you like it xx

Warnings: None, this is very sweet and cheesy and I love this man so much, I can not.

I wrote this in the first hours of the day and English is not my first language, so pls forgive me if there are any errors ♡

In your arms

"Babe, please." You made yet another measly attempt to move, only to find out for, at least, the hundredth time, that there was no way you could get out of there. You heard a mumbling rumble coming from behind you, muffled, probably by the pillow case.

The arm around your middle made no move to let you go, instead you felt it pulling you impossibly closer, one long, heavy leg not so gently thrown over your hip.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips and you considered just succumbing to the circumstances and letting yourself go back to sleep for as long as you were allowed to. Unfortunately for you, and presumably for the person currently wrapped around your body as well, you had some sense of responsibility.

So, after a few seconds of arduous internal debate, you tried to tilt your head back as far as you could, eyes only catching a big mess of thick black locks. "Yassine, my love, I really need to get up."

"No." He said, simply, now moving to bury his face in your hair. "You know I'd love to be in bed with you all day long, but I got things to do." You sighed, finally finding space between your boyfriend's strong arms, to turn over until you were lying face to face.

The closeness was such that you could feel his warm breath mingling with your own. It felt like getting up was becoming a progressively more difficult of a challenge.

"I'm sure they can wait a bit" He lifted one of his huge, long-fingered hands to tenderly caress your cheek, eventually moving down a bit to slide his thumb over your lower lip. "Come on, baby, stay here with me a little longer, huh?"

Now, how could you not stay? Just for a little longer. It wouldn't be just a little, of course, but he knew, and you couldn't deny that, not so deep inside, you really couldn't care any less. You loved him, and it was really a gift how absolutely adored he could make you feel, at every moment of every day. 

Yassine had always been rather sly towards you, even when you were just friends, always attached to the hip, and it only intensified when the two of you started your romantic relationship. His love language was definitely physical touch, and you enjoyed every part of it.

"It's been a hell of a day, princess, I really need your cuddles." Or "It's so cold, the covers are just not doing it" or even "It just doesn't feel quite right when I'm not holding you."

Sometimes, when he had a particularly tough season with training and had to be away for a rather long time, you almost felt like an actual part of you had gone missing.

So, no matter how late it got, or how tired you were, you always made an effort to stay awake until he arrived, and when he finally did, the big, bright smile, accompanied by that little dimple on his left cheek, made it all so much more than worth it. You'd open your arms to receive him in your embrace, head on your chest or in the crook of your neck as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. As a response, he would always snuggle up to you and whisper little pledges of love until the two of you were deeply out of it.

He was especially clingy during free days. Most of the time was spent by the two of you with cuddling on the couch while watching some new movie you found on the catalog, or going out with your friends. Eventually, though, you did have some work to do. After all, it was very rare for you two to be able to take a recess at the same time.

You would be sitting at the large table placed in the living room, notebook open in front of you, a few sheets strewn across the surface, along with an abnormally large cup of coffee, completely focused on whatever you were working on at that moment, when he would appear.

First, he would be walking back and forth inside the house, sometimes going into the kitchen to get a glass of water, or sitting on the sofa to go through all the channels for a few minutes, not really watching anything.

Then he would start making little comments, clearly not wanting to disturb you, but still needing to know that you at least had noticed him. Maybe something about the weather, or how the team seems to be doing worse and worse with each practice. Usually you would respond with a few short comments on the topic, just enough to let him know that you heard.

Not long after, the discreet but always very fluttering compliments would come.

It could range from talking about his admiration for your vigor with your work, to how you look even more beautiful when you're focused. You would then look at him and be greeted with, you could swear, the biggest, most cruelly irresistible puppy eyes in the entire universe.

"You haven't kissed me today" He said, a rather childish pout plastered to his lips.

You giggled under your breath, but got up anyway, and walked over to the too big of a baby that your boyfriend was, intending to return to your previous task soon as possible. You then rested your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles there flex under your touch, and leaned in slightly to bring your mouth to his in a chaste kiss.

By the time your lips met, however, Yassine was grabbing your hips and pressing you so hard against him, you could feel his heart beating fast against your own. Needless to say, you were instantly smitten, melting like butter in his arms, the writings saved to the computer screen, long forgotten.

After that, you would end up spending what was left of the day doing little activities together, just because you couldn't stand the feeling of being so unproductive.

Cooking was usually the solution. Together in the relatively spacious kitchen, looking for some quick and easy dessert recipe, which somehow always resulted in a huge unexplained mess. You put whatever calorie bomb you'd made this time in the oven, or in the fridge, and while you waited, yassine would pull you close, once again, hugging you from behind, his chin resting on top of your head.

And for the next few minutes, the two of you would just stand there, holding each other, slightly rocking from side to side, talking and laughing like two idiots in love. Because that's exactly what you were.

[taeraeszn]

hi :) i really like ur writing and i was wondering if can request something with taerae ^^ like hurt/comfort type.. something like either person (taerae or reader) having a hard time (stress/bad day/anxiety etc.) and the other one comforting them? thank you !!

rough days - kim taerae

characters: taerae x gn!reader

description: taerae has returned home from promotions but you can tell something is up.

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 916

warnings: mentions of: being overworked, stress, worries. not proofread, lmk if there is anything more!

a/n: hi luv! ty for requesting <3 i'm finally doing a writing for taerae!! mother taeraesa has been someone i've been wanting to write for in a while but haven't gotten the time to, but now i finally got a request!

btw this story will be a bit more on the angst side, but don't worry, this won't be a common theme :)

like always at this time, your apartment was silent. you were used to it by now but never did you feel like sleeping at this time. it was two in the morning but there was no sign of your boyfriend taerae arriving. ever since in bloom promotions began, taerae had been extremely busy, his schedule is always packed to the brim with radio shows, variety shows, and music shows.

but even despite all of this chaos, taerae always found his way back to you in your apartment. it gave you comfort knowing he followed up on his promises. at first, taerae would say he'd be home by twelve but this later progressed to one and now two in the morning.

you were scrolling on your phone and just then you heard the sound of your apartment door opening. taerae already knew your lock number and made his way inside, you smiled at the sight of your boyfriend.

"babe!" you exclaimed, running over to him and pulling him into your arms for comfort. he gently rubbed your back and kissed you on the cheek.

"hi love." you could see his dimple begin to form as he gave you a slight smile.

"how was it today?" he shrugged but you noticed his smile drop as his facial expression became more serious.

"it was....good." the pause in between made you raise a brow, but you didn't want to question him further since you knew he was tired.

"want to go rest?" you suggested, he quickly nodded and rushed to your bedroom. you followed behind him and just when you entered, you saw him lying on your bed, fast asleep.

you sighed, leaning against the door frame. you knew this promotion period was draining him and the boys. though he was thrilled to finally debut, you were worried most about taerae's health.

as quietly as you could, you went to lie right beside him and fell asleep. the sounds of him slightly snoring somehow helped you sleep faster.

the next morning you woke up in a daze, the curtain was pulled up letting the sun hit your face. as you adjusted your eyes to the light, you saw taerae on his phone next to you.

you smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, "good morning." he looked at you and patted your head, "good morning my love."

you then remembered last night and decided to bring up the topic with taerae. you knew that it was a heavy topic to discuss in the morning but who knew when else you would get this opportunity.

"taerae...last night you seemed very exhausted. is everything okay?" you noticed him momentarily stop and turn to face you.

"was it that obvious?" he mumbled, you quickly shook your head, "no no! i was just concerned since your always so busy now..i'm worried."

he then put his phone down, "i'll admit that yeah, i have been exhausted." he took a big sigh before holding your hand and speaking up.

"you know that i've always wanted to debut and i'm thrilled i get to live out my dream but...i feel so stressed. my body gets no rest, we're all tired but our fans have been waiting for our debut and we want to make a good impression. i feel like we don't get much days to sit and relax, it worries me, especially about our younger members and their health."

hearing him speak openly about it made your heart shatter. you were not aware of how he felt but now you were willing to do anything to help him.

"i understand taerae. but please know that it's always okay to take a break from your hectic schedule and to just rest for a day. i'm so proud of your achievements and how your doing what you like but more importantly, i'm worried about your health."

you left a sweet kiss on his hand, "i always will be here to comfort and help you. i love you taerae."

taerae felt like tearing up at your words but kept it in as he didn't want you to get emotional as well. instead, he gently pressed his lips onto your forehead and pulled you into his arms.

"thank you (name). it's so nice being able to tell this to someone. you have always been there for me and i'm so grateful to have such a wonderful partner who understands me."

"i'm grateful to have met you taerae, having you in my life makes it much better."

the silence afterwards was comforting, just the two of you in bed together was all you needed. the birds chirping outside definitely made the moment more precious along with the weather that happened to be perfect that day.

throughout the day you got to see taerae be himself and not as idol taerae. the day off was well deserved as you two spent time cuddling as well as cooking together. even going on a walk for some fresh air.

the next day when taerae had to leave for a schedule, he seemed much more brighter and was telling you how happy he was being able to spend time with you, though it was only one day, you felt the same way.

and when he left, he still messaged you everything that happened and the memories he made as a member of zerobaseone.

seeing him live out his dreams was your greatest happiness. and you'd always be there for taerae when he needed you.

[asukaskerian]

monthly word count - october

TOTAL: 2 109

Posted: nothin'!

In progress: -madatobiizu ABO - cherry wine (1 332 words) -bleach: suburban ot4 (777 words)

=__= the exexcutive dysfunction don't stop from getting worser. hghghbvg.

cherry wine --

"Any leads?"

Pouring the next cup for Madara, Yoritomo sighed, "Sadly, not yet. The Nara clan was no help at all."

Raiha hummed in thoughtful commiseration. Madara sighed, irritated by the reminder. He hadn't even wanted to admit to this much. "It was one of their drugs, but breaking into their customer files isn't worth the trouble."

"Still," Izuna interjected, "now we know they didn't go to someone else, so that still narrows it down." He turned his dimpling smile onto the nieces. "So, is this your first time at court?"

The beta of the two nodded, expression cool and reserved; the omega smiled back, quickly ducking her head like she didn't want Raiha to notice and comment. 

Madara wondered if the two knew their aunt had volunteered the beta sister to help with his rut yesterday. She didn't seem the kind of person to tolerate nonsense all that easily. Sharp eyes, a downturned mouth -- she caught him looking and smiled, eyes crinkling, a beat too late. Bizarrely offended, he had to swallow down a growl.

The omega sister was still tittering with Izuna. She made him want to growl worse, with her little grins and her tilted head -- the girl at the tea party the other day had done it better, the other omega --

"You're aware she'll be in heat soon?"

Sudden silence. Madara was aware that mentioning it out loud was rude, but what was even ruder was bringing her into his space with his nest. Tobirama's scent wasn't even all the way faded from the nesting pit...!

-- suburban ot4 --

# karakura kids

ONLINE--(5)

15goingon51: you guys will be happy 15goingon51: they're leaving 15goingon51: landlord kicking them out. Willpower_Ramen!!_eat-it-snort-it-put-it-in-your-faces: the harem breaking up??? oh man i was kinda starting to root for you lol :( Color-me-blue: Condolences. Color-me-blue: You guys are still planning to hang out though, right? 15goingon51: thats what they say but who knows  15goingon51: whatever gtg. Willpower_Ramen!!_eat-it-snort-it-put-it-in-your-faces: ichigo? :((((

--

Thing is, Ichigo hasn't managed to forget what Orihime said, back when they first discussed rent, and how long they saw the other couple staying.

'I like that Nel-chan is here during the day. I kinda -- otherwise, I just do chores. All my other friends work. It's nice, keeping house, but it doesn't take all the hours in my day, you know? And it's -- quiet.' 

The more he thinks about it the more names he calls himself in his head. He should have seen it. He should have known. Orihime is the friendliest, most easygoing person he's ever met. That she has no bosom friend yet in the neighborhood means it'll never happen.

"Ohh, there's a dojo near this one." 

Nel and Orihime are curled up on the couch with the laptop precariously balanced on Nel's belly. Since she can't type without risking sending it careening to the floor, Hime's the one who reaches out to peck search terms on the keyboard. Both her knees are pressed to her chest, back rounded and toes tucked underneath Nel's thigh.

"Sounds cool, put it in the bookmarks."

Nel's voice has such a gentle undertone, just as bad at staying casual as Orihime's wistfulness. Ichigo feels like shit.

[training4theapocalypse]

Pushover (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Degradation, Dub-con, Dom!Jeffrey, Sub!Reader, Breeding kink, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex M receiving, PIV

Summary: It's the apocalypse and you're stuck in an ecosphere with the last nine other people in the world - including Jeffrey Steinberg. If he could stop talking down to you for one second you could show him how useful you'd be to him.

A/N: Just be aware I wrote this in a day because I needed to get some feelings out my system. I've never written for an in-progress piece of work before so if Jeffrey turns out to be an even worse person than we already know I am sorry. This takes place roughly at the end of Ep4 of Evergreen.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @chiaraanatra, @stainedpomegranatelips, @navs-bhat

Chapter Text:

“Hey, second fiddle! Get in here.”

“Don’t call her that.”

You open the control room door where Hannah and Jeffrey are staring at the screens. He leans back in his chair to look past Hannah, standing next to him, to get a good look at you when you enter. His dark curly hair is messed up like he’s been stressed out and running his hands through it.

“So, Finn’s assistant's assistant -”

“You know she’s not my assistant, Jeffrey. She’s Finn’s second assistant,” says Hannah scathingly.

He waves his hand dismissively. “Hannah says you actually might know something about this firewall?”

“Yes.”

“How does Finn Gorale’s second-favourite pet know how to get past the firewall?” He raises his eyebrow.

“I know how to code. Finn let me work on the firewall for my professional development.”

“Ugh.” He rolls his eyes. “He really had you all lapping up the big happy corporate family thing here, didn’t he?” Jeffrey rolls his chair back from the control panel. “Go on then, show me.”

“Jeffrey,” Hannah warns. “Don’t let him speak to you like that,” she adds to you. 

“I’d be happy to show Mr Steinberg anything he wants to see.”

The corners of his mouth turn up in a wry smile. He liked that. And he has dimples. You’re stuck in an underground ecosphere with the billionaire AI mogul who you’ve had a ridiculous crush on for a long time. Of course, he has dimples. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect.

Ever since he gave the commencement speech at your graduation ceremony a few years ago, Jeffrey Steinberg has been the subject of your fantasies. Obviously, you applied to work for Jeffrey’s company straight after graduation but without success. You suspected that Jeffrey was kind of a misogynist - his executive assistants were all exclusively men. Finn, for all his flaws, at least didn’t seem to care about your gender. 

“I’d better go help Axel and Aida with the harvester,” says Hannah, she pauses on her way out. “Don’t let him push you around.”

You keep your eyes on him as the sound of the door shutting and locking itself electronically beeps when Hannah exits the room.

You’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeffrey Steinberg do to you. You’d be more than happy for him to push you around, bend you over the console, fuck you any way he wanted to. Your so far one-sided feelings for him have only intensified while you’ve been stuck in this hellscape of an ecosphere with only nine other people for company. 

As an executive assistant, normally you can hold your own around egotistical men. Put them in their place with your sharp tongue. But something about Jeffrey’s disdain towards your very presence here makes you crumble. You’re desperate for him to notice you. Notice how useful you could be to him. Even if he were to decide your only usefulness amounted to you waiting in his bed for him on your knees every night.

You flush, embarrassed by your own lewd thoughts. It’s your ninth day down here. Not only are you socially starved but you’re also way more aroused than usual. Your girlfriends used to joke that you needed locking up during this time of the month when you were ovulating. Like a werewolf at full moon. You feel feral.

“Er, hello?” Jeffrey’s voice snaps you back to reality.

You clear your throat and teeter on your heels over to the console. He doesn’t deign to give you his chair, instead, he rolls it back to watch you lean over the keyboard.

“I just need to look up when Hal-9000 was last rebooted,” you say, clicking around, and searching for the date.

“You can say it’s name. It can’t hear us in here.”

“It can hear everything. It’s everywhere.”

“I disabled it in this room. Cortex, can you hear me? Cortex? There’s been an accident, Cortex, Finn’s assistant is choking to death in the control room. It’s the cute, innocent one, not the bitchy one, so you’d better hurry!” You glance at him over your shoulder to see him smirking. “See?”

You turn back to face the screen quickly before he can notice your smile. Cute. You open files on the screen, checking the reboot data.

You can feel his eyes on you. You’re not sure if he’s staring at what you’re doing on the screen or the way you’re bent over in front of him. Either way, you like it.

“You said when I first got here that we’d never met before. But that’s not true, is it? I know you from somewhere.”

“Not likely. But you gave the commencement speech at my graduation a few years ago.”

“You graduated from MIT?”

“What, like it’s hard?” You discreetly pick up the pace of your searching, keen to show off how quickly you can crack the firewall issue.

“MIT… I’ve got it.” He snaps his fingers and points at you like he’s just realised something. “You applied for a job with me. Does Finn know he was second choice? Or is that why he made you his second choice?” His sudden revelation isn't convincing. You have a feeling he's been sitting on this information for a while.

“Finn might be a shitty boss but unlike you he actually hires women.”

“Woah, woah, woah - who says I don’t hire women?”

“Your last five assistants were all men. None of them have lasted as long as I have with Finn, by the way.”

“Look, I’m not Finn. I can’t spend my day around a fuckable assistant without doing something about it. That means all the applications from the pretty ones go straight in the bin, no matter if they went to MIT.”

“That’s a textbook example of misogyny.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it? Call the EEOC? It’s not like they exist anymore.”

You say nothing. You hate that he didn’t hire you. But at least you know it’s because he thought you were pretty - so that’s something, right? And could you honestly say you wouldn’t have tried to fuck him at the first opportunity, even if he was your boss? Maybe he was on to something.

“Cortex hasn’t been rebooted since the day before doomsday,” you say, finally finding the data.

He brings his chair forward to look at the screen. You shift uncomfortably on your feet in your high heels. 

“Sit here,” he says, nudging the back of your knee with his. You pretend to hesitate, only so he can’t tell how eager you are. You sit down on his lap. “Good girl. See, this is the type of shit I’d be pulling if you were my assistant. Anyway…” He reaches around you to grab the mouse and is quiet for a moment while he takes in the information. His other hand rests on your upper thigh.

“You said Finn was a shitty boss. But are you still loyal to him?”

He tilts his head, scanning your face for any indication of dishonesty. You meet his gaze, glad for an excuse to look into his green eyes.

“I’ll be as loyal or disloyal as you want me to be.”

“Very good answer.” He says, his fingertips on his free hand brushing the inside of your leg. “As it happens, that’s exactly what I want. Out there, I want you to pretend to be loyal to Finn. But in here, I want you to help me locate Finn’s private servers.”

You bite your lip before throwing caution to the wind. “I have conditions.”

“Let’s hear them, then.”

“Out there I want you to show me some respect. No more talking down to me in front of the others.”

“Alright, that’s fair en-”

“But inside here -” you feel butterflies in your stomach. “- I want you to disrespect me in every way you know how. And I want you to do it now. As a show of good faith.”

Jeffrey exhales deeply and you feel something hard pressing against your hip. 

“God, you would have been a fucking terrible assistant” He shakes his head. 

Oh shit.

“I never would have gotten anything done,” he says, looking at you with an unmistakeable glint in his eye. From the sideways position you’re sitting on his lap, he draws your leg up onto the armrest, spreading your legs apart and forcing your minidress to roll up, exposing your underwear.

Oh shit.

He runs the back of his hand across your pussy through the fabric before suddenly yanking your underwear to the side so he can draw his fingers along your slit, finding the swollen bundle of nerves at the top. 

“Fuck,” you whisper and turn your head, bringing your lips close to his - almost touching. He smells good. Expensive.

“So wet already.” He rolls his wet fingertips around your clit. “What a wet, fucking desperate little slut you are.”

“I’ve been like this every day here,” you confess.

“So I should have trusted my instincts and let myself into your room after those drinks on the first night?” Jeffrey keeps circling your clit, making you squirm in his lap.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“What would I have found, I wonder? You fucking yourself like this?” He slides a finger inside you. 

You part your lips panting at the intrusion, feeling his finger curl up inside you. He sucks on your neck. Fuck - there’s going to be a bruise there tomorrow. His mark on you for everyone to see.

“No - wait! The others will notice if I have a hickey.”

“So?”

“I - I want them to respect me out there.”

His finger moves in and out of you and you feel you pelvic muscles tighten under the pressure. You might want the others to respect you but he knows you want nothing of the sort from him in here. And he’s taking your request seriously.

“So put some fucking makeup on it to cover it up. I see you wearing it out there - the world has ended and you’re the only one still bothering with makeup. I wonder why?”

He knows why.

“Fuck, and this tight little dress. Who’s that for?”

He knows who it’s for.

“And those ridiculous shoes. I mean, for God’s sake we’re living in a ecosphere.”

He slips another digit inside you, and you welcome it gratefully as he keeps crooking and stroking his fingertips against you g-spot. Every movement he makes inside your soaking wet cunt pulls a helpless little moan from you.

“Fuck, Jeffrey, I -, I -” Pleasure ignites up low in your abdomen. The increasingly wet sound of his fingers fucking you, giving away just how turned on you are, threatens to push you over the edge.

“You’re not seriously about to cum already, are you? Fuck, you really are a desperate little whore.”

“I am,” you choke. “Fuck, and I’ll do any- anything you want.”

You’re tumbling headfirst into your high, the beautiful way his fingers are pressing into you is too much. He feels your pussy clench around him and starts drilling into you with unprecedented speed. From the way he holds you you can’t move, can’t do anything except just accept your impending climax.

“You’re damn right you will. Come on, be a good little assistant and cum for me. Or is that too big a task for you?”

It’s not. 

You’re so pent up you wail - the noise you make for him sounds like something from a shitty porno. Everything seizes up around his fingers, tight, hot and burning - and then it releases like a spring. Jeffrey keeps finger fucking you through your orgasm, draining every last ounce of bliss from your body until you shudder into a quivering mess on his lap.

“That was a decent start. You sound fucking great when you do that by the way. Do it louder next time.”

You nod, blinking stupidly at him.

“Right, enough with the Bambi eyes and stand up. I need a good look at you.”

Legs trembling, you get off his lap with difficulty and smooth out the front of your dress. He sits up straight in his chair and makes a circle motion with his finger, instructing you to turn around. You feel your cheeks burning as you turn on the spot slowly so he can he observe you.

“Don’t get shy on me now. Do it again. But this time I want to see all of you.” He leans back in his chair. “Take everything off.”

Steping out of your heels, you feel relief as your feet meet the the cool tile floor. You grab the hem on your dress and lift it up over your head before throwing it aside. You pause for a second, standing in your lingerie.

He locks eyes with you. “Everything.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m more interested in seeing what I asked for. Maybe you’re used to Finn letting his assistants take liberties but I expect you to do as you’re told.”

You unhook your bra and slip off your underwear, tossing them at his feet. He raises an eyebrow with impatient expectancy and you remember to turn again.

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what would happen if Nico’s work in the DNA bank couldn’t proceed.” He says, and you hear his desk chair roll towards you and he grabs your hips from behind. “And I’ve decided you’d make the best breeding stock. I mean, God, these hips.”

He spins you back around to face him and you bite your lip.

“Purely scientific of course. And obviously, I’d be the one to do it. We’d need to calculate when you’re at your most fertile and I’d cum inside you say… three times a day.”

“And what use would you have for me the rest of the month? Just help you with the servers?”

“I’m glad you asked… Kneel.”

You sink to the hard tile floor and watch him as he undoes his belt buckle. 

“Do you know what to do? Or do I have to give you detailed instructions for every simple thing?”

“I know what to do.”

You crawl towards him and slide your hands up his thighs. They’re more muscular than you would have guessed under his expensive, tailored suit. Unzipping his pants, you pull his cock out. You knew he had big dick energy but at the back of your mind you wondered if he was over compensating.

He’s not.

He’s rock hard. And thick. As you run your hand up his cock, a single bead of precum leaks from the top making your mouth water.

You look up at him and present your tongue before slowly dragging it along the underside of his cock. The critical look he’s giving you falters when you flutter your tongue across his head, tasting the salty liquid.

Jeffrey threads his fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face as you swallow as much of him as you can, drooling all over his length.

“Oh fuck, look at how sloppy you are,” he says with a sharp inhale when he feels the head of his cock touching the back of your throat. You suck and swirl your tongue around him and you pull back up, meeting his eyes again. He’s looking down at you with his lips parted in awe of the way you’re working him.

“Did Finn ever get you to do this?”

You shake your head, your mouth still full. Never.

“He was a fucking idiot. You’re going to be doing this every day from now on.”

God, the way he bosses you around makes you moan around him as you set a pace, sucking up and down. You accidentally take it too deep and gag a little.

“Don’t stop. Come on, yes, fucking choke on it.”

Desperate to prove you can, you keep going, gagging and panting as your head bobs up and down, every so often touching the base with your lips, burying your face in the neat smattering of hair.

“Yeah, you like this, don’t you? Gagging on my cock like this? You submissive little slut.”

You whine, choking on his cock as far as you can take it. You look up at him again with tears in your eyes.

“Right, breathe. Get some air,” he says, with a surprisingly gentle tug of your hair. You pull up, gasping and he grips his cock with his hand and starts pumping his fist up and down. He stands up and you sit back on your knees, looking at him towering above you.

“Open your mouth, I’m going to cum all over that pretty litte face.”

“I’m ovulating.”

He stops tugging at his cock. “What?”

“It means I’m fertile right now.”

“I know what it means. God, you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for. Get up.” He extends a hand to help you to your feet. Your knees ache from kneeling on the floor. Jeffrey walks over to the console and presses a few buttons. 

“Bend over,” he says, gesturing to the console. You look at it apprenehsively.

“What if I press something?”

“You just watched me lock it. Are you sure you went to MIT?”

You’re not thinking straight. You lean over the console in front of him and you hear him moving behind you. You’re not sure what he’s doing until you feel two hands on your hips and a soft, warm heat gliding between your folds. His tongue slides over your pussy, and obscenely, you feel it pushing at your entrance. 

Jeffrey pulls back and delves his fingers inside you so he can gather your slick. He stands up, coating his cock with your your juices and presses his head against your aching pussy. You inhale deeply as he guides himself slowly into you, stretching you even more than his fingers did.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You clench around his cock deep inside you, every nerve ending below your waist lights up brighter than the console underneath you.

He starts thrusting into you, setting an urgent pace that you’re barely ready for. You let out a long, low whimper, made uneven by each thrust of his hips into the flesh of your ass.

“Fuck, Jeffrey…” Is all you can manage to moan as you feel the familiar tension building in your pelvis, squeezing around him as he mercilessly buries himself into you.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long,” he says through gritted teeth. His hands slide around under your body and he grabs your tits, anchoring himself even deeper into you.

“It’s - it’s only been nine days,” you pant over the wet sound of his flesh smacking yours.

“You really think I binned your job application?” He brings one of his strong arms to wrap around your stomach and uses the other to find your neck and pull you close to his chest, still ramming his hips against your ass. “I agonised over it for weeks - fuck - I almost brought you in for an interview just so I could fuck you over my desk. Hire you to be my little fucktoy.”

He sloppily licks your neck and jaw and you turn your head to kiss him. Your tongues barely touching from this angle. He pulls out of you with a frustrated groan and turns you round to lift you onto the console, your bare backside pressing on a dozen different buttons.

Jeffrey pulls off his own shirt and you can barely contain the mewl that escapes your lips when you see his toned chest. You hardly have time to appreciate it before he sheathes himself into you again making you arch your back in pleasure.

He kisses you once - deeply, needily - then puts all of his weight on you and fucks you - hard. 

“Taking my cock like such a good little slut. I knew you’d be like this.”

Everything pulls up inside you, tight and molten hot. You sob and clutch his muscular shoulders, wrapping your legs around his little waist as he keeps pounding into you. It’s exactly what you always dreamed it would be. Hot, rough, degrading.

“Jeffrey, fuck, I’m - fuck - so close.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, ramping up the pace of his hips fucking into your open legs - you barely notice the console digging into your back, every plastic button leaving indents on your soft skin. You squeal, trying to grapple with the orgasm flashing brightly deep in your abdomen. “Such pretty noises.”

Electricity floods your body, sparking up in your brain like an overloaded circuit board. 

“Are you going to cum for me? Come on.”

You cry like a woman possessed as your cunt twitches and releases all over him, your orgasm ripping through your body as he fucks you remorselessly through it.

“God, you get so fucking tight when you do that,” he shudders, feeling your pussy contract involuntatrily around him.

“Cum inside me - please,” you whisper, your instincts telling you that this is what will set off his own relief. “Please, Mr Steinberg.” Your sweet murmur in his ear makes him burst. His groan jumps up a pitch as his teeth find the juncture of your neck and he bites down, cumming hard inside you. With a last few shuddering jerks of his hips, he comes to a stop.

He lies there on to of you, his heart hammering in his chest as he heaves breathlessly, the last spurt of cum coating your insides. The numbness fades and you realise just how uncomfortable this is, with him on top of you on the hard surface.

“Shit, the console was a bad idea,” he sighs eventually, pulling out of you carefully and cupping your leaking pussy before his cum can spill out over the unit. 

He reaches over your head and grabs some tissues from the box on top of the desk and does what he can to mop up the mess you’ve both made. You slide off of the surface, holding onto his shoulders for balance.

Jeffrey drags the abandoned desk chair over and sits down, pulling you onto his lap again. His curly hair is even messier than when you first came into the room. He lifts his head up to kiss you gently.

“You’re not really fertile right now, are you?”

“Unfortunately. I’ll get a morning after pill from David though - discreetly.” 

“Good. There’s no way we’re actually going to repopulate this hell hole.”

“We could have a lot of fun trying though.”

He smirks and you see those dimples again. God, those dimples.

“Right, you’d better get back out there before anyone realises how long you’ve been missing.”

“They have no idea how long breaking through a firewall takes. They probably think we’re in here mashing buttons like those hackers on TV.”

“Well, the buttons are certainly mashed,” he says, looking over your shoulder at the sticky surface.

You brush his curly hair from his face. “Do you… would you want to do this again? Same time, same place tomorrow?”

“Absoltely not. What a mess. We’re lucky the whole place didn’t go into critical failure. Come to my quarters. Tonight.”

“I’m busy tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve got several hours scheduled in for contemplating my existence as one of the last human beings on the planet.”

“Don’t you manage diaries for a living? I’m sure you of all people could find a way to squeeze me in.” He looks at you expectantly.

“Maybe...” You get up and step into your underwear. “Make it my room. And bring a strong drink.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, handing you your dress and watching you pull it over your head as he buckles his belt again. You put on your heels and walk over to the keypad on the door. You open it.

“Will that be all, Mr Steinberg?” You ask.

“Yes, thank you.” You step out the door. “Wait.” You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “You would have been a fucking great assistant, by the way.”

“I think you were right the first time. We’d never have gotten anything done.”

Chapter 2: Nice Guy