#my heart still feels like it resides in my stomach

[hmusunoo]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

desc. │ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ ɪɴ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ɪꜱ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. ᴅᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʏ.

warnings. │ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴍᴅɴɪ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟꜱ.

pairing. │ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ!ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ᴜɴᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ/ɴᴇʀᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Laughter was contagious, it was similar to a disease in the way that it spread from person to person. Bubbling up inside of you and exploding out like an erupting volcano. Laughter rang throughout this classroom like a bell on a high tower ringing through town.

It had surrounded you, enveloping you in a blur. You huddled into yourself, hugging yourself felt like the only form of protection you'd get from all the prying eyes and explosive laughter that came from them.

You had been a jester in their court, the punchline to their very cruel cruel joke. The screen in front of the classroom displayed your demise. The ultimate downfall of you, not that you had much credibility to begin with but any single ounce of dignity you once held was all gone now, you were left a puddle of yourself. Tears formed in your eyes the utter humiliation of the situation eating you up inside. You should run away, break free from the confines of this classroom and the people that surrounded you but you couldn't quite find your footing.

You were frozen in place not an inch of your body able to move from its spot. Your eyes searched for Heeseung in this room that felt so massive but at the same time so very small. You found him in the corner of the room, eyes not meeting yours. You were silently pleading from him to help you, for him to speak up and defend you. But he wasn't moving, not a single inch.

Your heart was breaking you could feel your stomach drop to its very pit. On the screen displayed pictures, multiple of them. Some of you and heeseung and some of your text messages with. It also showed pictures that you had sent to heeseung in confidence. Not fully naked but pretty close to it. Your mortification could not even begin to be described. This would destroy you. It was actively destroying you.

The source of your downfall you might ask? Hwang Yeji. Yeji hated you for a reason entirely unknown to you. So much so that she decided to expose the hidden relationship you held with the resident popular boy Lee Heeseung. In the most humiliating way possible. Feigning a school presentation she took the time to display all your inner most intimate moments with the boy.

Worst of it all. Heeseung sat completely still in his spot, not uttering a single word as Yeji spewed her hate to all of the class. He did absolutely nothing to defend you much less himself. It hurt more than a million tiny little needles poking into your skin. A million knives driven into your heart.

"Oh!" Yeji laughed, turning to look at you a smile big on her face. "The nerd is crying... Heeseung baby, do you have anything to say to your little girlfriend here? The side piece I should say." She spoke with venomous intentions, the heat of her gaze piercing you.

"She's not my girlfriend." Heeseung muttered finally. It was the first thing he said during this entire ordeal. The first thing he decided to say was say was not in defendance of you, instead he was covering his own ass.

It furthered your humiliation by a tenfold. You curled into yourself hugging even tighter hoping and praying that you could just simply disappear. You had been invisible most of your life and most days you hated it, today was not one of those days. Today you wished for it, prayed for it even.

“What-“ You whispered out, sure that the broken look on your face would trigger some sort of warm emotion from him. It did not. Instead Heeseung looked at you with disgust. An expression you had never seen from him before, at least not directed towards you.

“Did you actually think for a second that i loved you?” He spit out. The words had split your heart in two, if you had thought you were broken before you were wrong. You were shattered now a million pieces of yourself.

More laughter had filtered the room furthering your need to flee. “See?” Yeji asked the same smirk that you hated so deeply graced her face. “He just needed a quick fuck when i wasn’t around.”

“It was more than that and you know it” You said weakly. Trying your very hardest to stand your ground. You could tell it wasn’t working, if anything it was making you look more feeble. Yeji laughed again you began to wonder if that was the only thing she was capable in doing.

"Come on y/n, I know you're not that stupid. A boy like Lee Heeseung would never love someone like you. You're a complete loser." The words hurt more than you'd like to admit. You wish that you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hurting you. She was winning this battle it was clear in the way you stood motionless. Letting her berate you as you stood there like a scared little stray dog. She was kicking you while you were down.

A sob bubbled up inside of you, pouring out of you uncontrollably no matter how much you wished to suppress it. It was no use. You were crying in front of more people than you could count. Each and every one of them reveling in your sheer humiliation.

It seemed that your body started to catch up with your mind and heart as you finally found the strength to run from the room. The sounds of the never ending laughter getting drowned out by your sobs and the hard beating of your footsteps against the school floor.

You emerged from the front doors of the school. The cold from the rain hitting your face and freezing your tears. It was mid December the bite from the cold had done nothing to calm the fiery storm that was brewing inside of you. Your mind was reeling a simmering anger boiling up within you. You hated Heeseung. And you thought that would never be possible.

You couldn't have ever imagined that there would be a time that you could hate Lee Heeseung. He had opened your world to new things, taught you so much about yourself. He had taught you to love yourself when you were at your lowest. You had showed him sides of yourself that no one had ever seen before. You had given yourself to him completely. Allowing him to take your innocence because you felt like he was trustworthy enough to do so. Because you felt like he was the most perfect person to lose it with.

You were wrong. He had used you, then left you to rot. Left you to deal with the repercussions of what you had done together, alone. He had promised you so much all of it coming to be a lie. Just like he had promised that him and Yeji weren't a couple. That obviously being proven to be a lie. As you ran to your car getting in and starting up you felt like you could never come back to this place.

You had decided to skip school for the past week, huddling up in your dorm room feigning sickness. It was clear to more than half campus what the real reason for your absence was. You had turned your phone off staying in bed day in and day out. You didn't want any contact with the outside world. The only human interaction you were getting was from your roommate, Shin Yuna. She was your saving grace, bringing you food from the cafe and forcing you to get up and shower.

She had loathed Heeseung and Yeji for what they did to you. She had half a mind to go straight to Heeseung and Beomgyu's dorm and tell Heeseung off. You had stopped her, not wanting her to fight your battles for you. No matter how much you wanted her to. You wanted to be the bigger person in this although that was very very hard.

After a week of missing class you received a email from your professor requesting your immediate presence in his next class. No questions asked, you were no longer able to hide under your covers. The real world was calling and you had to pick up unfortunately.

You woke up the day you were due to go back to work, a tight knot formed in your stomach. You weren't ready for this but it was something you had to do. After getting ready for the day just throwing on a pair of old jeans and a loose sweatshirt you had left your dorm readying yourself to take the semi-long walk to campus.

You had finally powered your phone on after it being off for a week. Tons of notifications poured through, text messages and random phone calls. Most of them from Yuna, some from your mother and siblings. A certain contact had surprised you more than the rest.

Heeseung had called you, multiple times. Your brows scrunched up in confusion. Why did he call you? He had said everything he needed to say a week ago in that classroom where he allowed his so called girlfriend humiliate you for something the both of you had participated in.

Scrolling through your text messages you noticed that he had also sent you various text messages begging you to call him back. The he needed to explain everything to you. You decided that texting back would be your best option. That telling him to fuck off and never speak to you again was the only way to get him off your back.

Y/n: Never speak to me again. Do not text me, I want absolutely nothing to do with you.

The response had came almost instantaneously, a plea from Heeseung to hear him. You scoffed at his text message deciding to block his number and continue your walk towards class. You were already not looking forward to seeing him during class today, him and Yeji were certainly both going to be there and you weren't entirely sure that you wanted to see them both.

Your plan was to lay low, get there early and keep your head down most of the day. You didn't want any unwanted attention on you, surely everyone hadn't forgotten about what had transpired a week ago. You definitely hadn't.

When you finally got to class you were relived to find that it was mostly empty. You found a spot in the way back of the class, tucking into yourself you sat down. Your glasses pushed close to your face you tried your best to appear invisible.

You didn't need Yeji, or Heeseung noticing you once they decided to get here.

The class started to fill up slowly but surely. No sign of yeji or Heeseung at all. All was going ok until you felt a presence besides you. The familiar scent of pine filling your nostrils. You went rigged in your seat.

"Y/n?" Heeseung voice whispered next to you. You turned away from him as much as you could, your heart beating wildly in your chest the anxiety you were feeling before just shot up by a tenfold.

"Y/n please can we talk?" Heeseung asked again in a low voice. He reached out a hand placing in on your elbow in a soft touch.

"No don't touch me!" You said making a show of yanking your elbow from his grip. "Don't ever fucking touch me" You spit out trying your hardest to keep your voice low as to not grow attention to yourself.

"please, we need to talk" He continued to whisper out.

"You said all you needed to say" You spit out at him. "Leave me alone." Your voice was firm with finality one that you hoped he caught onto. If he did he made no show in complying.

"This was not my fault" He said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Not your fault?" You asked in bewilderment. Your anger was growing minute by minute and you weren't sure when you would explode. "Our entire relationship was put on display for the entire school to see, pictures of me basically naked were seen by everyone, from your phone Heeseung and you said nothing to defend me. Absolutely nothing, and you want me to hear you out? Fuck you Lee Heeseung."

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise at the bite to your words. He was expecting you to say anything even remotely close to that. In all honestly he was expecting your forgiveness pretty easily.

"you're being ridiculous y/n" He muttered at you. Your simmering anger rose at his words. The audacity he had was truly appalling.

"How dare you?" You said exasperated. "I'm being ridiculous? Are you actually being serious right now Heeseung." You turned to look at Heeseung noting the look on his face. He looked tired and worn out, the bags under his heavy were heavy with spotted dark circles. "Go back to your girlfriend and please, please heeseung leave me alone."

"I didn't mean what I said y/n." Heeseung whispered again, almost in defeat. "I love you. And I was an idiot to say otherwise"

His words had hit you like a freight train straight to your heart. He rose from the seat besides you, going down the rows of seats and finally sitting besides a few of his friends that had trickled in.

A few times throughout the class you would notice his lingering gaze on you. Even after Yeji finally emerged, sitting down besides him with a huge smirk on her face. she ran her manicured nails up and down his arm the entire class period. Almost in a mockingly way. She took small digs at you without even looking at you one time.

It felt degrading, you felt disgusting and most of all you felt broken.

It had been a few more days since Heeseung spoke to you in class. His number stayed blocked in your phone not giving him the opportunity to talk to you. Everyday Yeji continued to subtly taunt you. She did little things like laugh out loud at any and everything Heeseung said, she loudly called him pet names and she continued to work her pesky nails all over his body. Her PDA was to the max even if most times he didn't reciprocate it.

Today had been a free day finally able to breathe and be at the dorms. Yuna was at her boyfriend Sunghoon's dorm all weekend so you had the space for yourself.

Yuna had texted you mid afternoon to check on you, making sure she didn't have to come back at all. But everything was going fine, you were huddled up on your bed, a bag of hot Cheetos next to you as you shamelessly wore Heeseung's old hoodie. You were comfortable and finally your mind wasn't plagued with the thoughts of Heeseung and yeji and what they could possibly be doing right now. Instead you were content watching your little YouTube videos alone in the comfort of your vacant dorm.

You were contently watching a YouTube video when a sharp knock was sound on your dorm room door. It made you jump in surprise not expecting a visitor. you are fairly certain it wasn't Yuna as she has key and would definitely just walk right in.

You got up from your bed hesitantly not wanting to be disturbed by people this late at night. When you opened the door you were greeted with the one person you wanted to see the least right now.

Heeseung was at your door, looking as beautiful as always in his sweat pants and plan black hoodie. You pushed your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose trying to make sure you were indeed seeing clearly and Heeseung really had the audacity to show up to your dorm.

"Why are you here?" You spit out, not in the mood to deal with his baggage.

"I needed to see you Y/n." Heeseung pleaded, he made a step towards you trying to get into the dorm. You let out a sigh, getting the impression that he was not leaving so soon. You allowed him to step inside.

"Heeseung please" You begged turning to look at the boy who broke your heart. "I'm begging you to leave me alone. You got what you wanted ok? What more do you want from me." You were pleading with him, begging him to give this up and leave you be. The damage was already done and you couldn't deal with the aftermath of what your relationship was anymore. It was way too much to bare.

"I need you to hear me out Y/n, you're not even giving me the time to explain everything" His words had made you irrationally angry. You were done letting him gas light you any further, you were about ready to speak your mind, truthfully now.

"You want me to give you the time to explain? After what you did to me? After what you allowed Yeji to do to me? I want nothing to do with you, I don't want to hear you out. I hate you" You spit the words at him like a canon, hoping it hit its mark and hurts him even a fraction of as much as he hurt you.

"You don't hate me" Heeseung said, a shadow of a smirk ghosting his lips.

"Is this funny to you? Is this all just a fucking joke to you? I was humiliated at your expense and it's one big fucking game to you." Your words had clearly made him angry, his eyebrows had a scrunch to them now.

"I didn't ask for our messages and pictures to get leaked Y/n is is just as much humiliating for me as it is for you!" His voice was raised in octave. The vein on his neck popping out just slightly and you would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself how hot it was. You scolded yourself for having that thought. Now was not the time nor place to be thinking of how hot Heeseung looked while he was angry.

"How did she even get them to begin with Heeseung, from you! You're her 'boyfriend' after all" Your volume raised just as loudly as his. Not ready to let him win this argument.

"She stole them from my phone while I was drunk at a party Y/n she took advantage of me." You rolled your eyes at his words, not believing his bullshit in the slightest.

"She's not my girlfriend y/n I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't with her." You scoffed at him, shaking your head.

"It doesn't matter-"

"It does matter y/n I love you." He spoke with fiver, like he was pleading with you to hear him.

"Stop lying to me" You whispered. "I can't take it."

"Im not lying damnit. How can I get you to understand that" No matter the desperation in his voice you felt like nothing was going to convince you that he was genuine with his words.

"No" You said standing your ground "I hate you."

Heeseung ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips once again.

"Stop saying that." He hissed out. The defiant person in you wanted to try your hardest to piss him off further. To hurt him more than he hurt you.

"I hate you." You said again. Heeseung advanced towards you pushing you against the wall in a rush. His big frame engulfed you, both arms surrounding you in a huddle.

"No you don't." His voice was raspy causing the heat between your legs to pulse just slightly. No longer were you arguing with anger, but now with lust.

A part of you was screaming at yourself to push him away, not allowing him to have even a fraction more of yourself. The other side of you was welcoming his advances, praying that sooner then later he would touch you more then he already was.

"I do." You said with a nod, the words leaving you in a single breathy whisper. "I hate you so much"

His lips were on you not even a second later attaching to yours in a rush of emotion and a blur of lust.

You gasped against his mouth giving him the leeway to dip his tongue in entangling yours in a fight for dominance.

His mouth moved from yours traveling down your neck and to your collarbone, you let out a tiny moan trying hard to suppress you noises as much as possible.

Heeseungs hand traveled up your body lazily landing on the outline of your breast in his oversized hoodie.

"You hate me but you're wearing my hoodie hmm." He said teasingly continuing to grope you over the hoodie.

"It's laundry week" You gasped out, arching your body into his. His hands traveled the expanse of your body landing in the hem of the hoodie. pushing it up and over your head to expose your name chest underneath.

Immediately Heeseung attached his mouth to your breast, licking and sucking at them with a desperation you had never seen from him before.

"Stop teasing" You whined pushing yourself further into him, grinding your lower body onto his. Your heat met the material of his sweatpants. The friction shooting a delicious surge through your body. You let out a whimper only spurring Heeseung's movements more. He sucked and licked at your breast like a mad man.

"Do you deserve it baby" He whispered detaching from your chest to say the words. His hand made its way down to your covered heat rubbing over the material of your thin biker shorts.

Your moans were high pitched exactly how you knew Heeseung loved them.

"Yes" You gasped out "I deserve it" You reached for the strings of Heeseungs sweatpants pushing them down in a feeble attempt to get him naked. Heeseung caught your wrists with his hands before lifting you up and plopping you down on the small twin sized bed in your dorm room.

He was quick in grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt lifting it over his head to expose his toned chest. Your breathing was harsh as you stared up him removing his clothing. You hurried in yanking your shorts and panties down.

The desperation for him felt palpable, a rush of emotions so hot filled your body. You wanted him badly, no, needed him badly. Soon the both of you were naked, the yearning you felt coupled with the emotion of your recent heartbreak had made all the lust that much more intense.

in the back of your mind you were kicking yourself. Scolding your heart for allowing Heeseung to have you again so intimately.

“Do you have a condom sweetheart?” Heeseung asked in his sickly sweet voice. You shook your head running your hands up and down heeseungs torso admiring the sculpture of his abs and toned forearms.

“Just pull out” You said, finally reaching his cock, grabbing it in your small hands you pumped it a few times causing a hiss of pleasure to leave his lips.

“You’re so wet” Heeseung panted attaching his fingers to your hole as you continue to stroke him lazily.

“Hurry” You pleaded looking up at him with wide eyes. Tears glistening at the anticipation of the moment. Heeseung removed your hand from his cock stroking it himself a few times before lining it at your entrance.

You held your breath at what was to come next willing yourself to relax, you had taken him plenty of times before but each time had felt like the first. With the stretch of his cock finally entering you, both heeseung and yourself let out a sigh of content. The pleasure of being filled to the brim was all consuming.

“Fuck” You squeaked out at a particularly harsh trust. Heeseungs hands held tightly onto your hips pounding into with a new found vigor. His groans of pleasure loud in your ears.

“So fucking warm” He muttered out, his head falling forward to watch where the two of you connected, the slick from your wetness causing a squelching sound to ring around the room. “You like that?”

The question was a hard one to answer, you couldn’t find words. The sounds you made growing louder and louder at every single push inside of you.

“Answer me” Heeseung growled quickening his pace. His hips now slamming into you over and over harder as his entire body dropped into yours over and over. “Does that feel fucking good?”

“Yes!” You gasped reaching your arms out and hooking them behind his head. “So fucking good. don’t stop” You yanked Heeseungs head down to your breasts. His lips reattaching to the perked nubs of your nipples.

“Tell me you love me” Heeseung whispered against your breast that he was currently latched to. The words didn’t register in your mind. You’re head filled with the feeling of him inside of you. You didn’t answer, instead letting out breathy moans at the continuous slam of his hips against yours.

Heeseungs grip on your hips tightened. His head rising from your chest to look at you. His hips stop, keeping his tight grip on your hips he punctuated his next few words with a slam inside of you. “Tell” slam “me” slam “you” slam “love” slam “me”.

Your mind was a frenzy, completely fucked out you whisper “I hate you.” Which only fueled Heeseungs need to be rough further. His hand creeped up to your neck squeezing just enough to make you see stars.

“No you don’t” He cooed continuing his relentless thrusts. “You love me. now fucking say it” You were stubborn you would try everything not to say it.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of you saying it. So instead you moaned out his name, something you knew for certain was a big weakness for him.

Praising him until he was so fucked out he forgot what he was asking of you. It was a manipulation tactic. You realized that but even in your lust filled daze you knew you could not give him the satisfaction of saying those three words.

“I’m gonna cum” You wheezed arching into Heeseung with your entire body. He nodded in a frenzy curses leaving his beautiful parted lips in a mantra. “Me too baby” He moaned out.

His hand traveled down landing on your bundle of nerves, circling his fingers over your clit furthering the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter ready to snap at any given moment.

You were in ecstasy the need to explode with pleasure growing more as he continued to trust into you at a brutal pace. The movement of his fingers on your clit coupled with constant slam of his hips against yours pushed you over the edging sending you hurtling to your release.

“Fuck fuck fuck” You squeaked out. Convulsing around Heeseings cock causing his breathing to quicken and become heavier.

“I’m gonna cum” He whined pushing a few more times inside of you before pulling out. He stroked his cock a few times allowing the spurts of cum to land over your stomach and breasts.

You took a moment to compose yourself, Heeseung calming his breathing from his position on top of you.

The clarity of the situation ran into you like a truck. The shame you felt quickly after the ecstasy of the moment was palpable. You quickly got up skipping to your bathroom to rid yourself of his spend all over your body. The tears in your eyes spilling out and over the apples of you cheeks.

“Y/n?” Heeseung asked knocking on the door of the bathroom. His voice laced with concern no doubt reading your distraught state.

“Please go” You whispered “We shouldn’t have done that” You stood naked in your bathroom against the door unable to will yourself to open it. You didn’t want to see Heeseungs face. You didn’t want to face the magnitude of what you had just done.

“What Y/n-“

“Go! Get out!” You screamed finally opening the door. Heeseung was dressed again. The look on his face shown one of pure confusion and panic. But you didn’t care. You needed him out. You wanted to scream, rip your hair out, trash your room, anything. He just needed to be gone.

“Get out!” You said again, Heeseung reached for you but you pulled away quick enough that he wasn’t able to make contact with your body. You reached your dorm room door in a blur opening it and pointing outside. “Go or i’ll scream and wake up this entire fucking floor.”

“I’ll be back” Heeseung said. You slammed the door before allowing yourself to fall against it. Sobs Racking your body as you brought your knees to your chest.

In truth you had felt filthy. You had loved Heeseung, that was a sad fact but you knew with absolute certainty that he did not love you like he claimed to. You cursed yourself for allowing him to have you in such an intimate way after what had transpired. Your mind racing with what will happen after this.

Will he tell Yeji? Will she have more fuel to torture you with. You weren’t sure you wanted to deal with the repercussions of what you both had just done. Your heart was in the pit of your stomach as you continued to sob on the floor of your dorm room, completely naked.

The next few days flew by the a blur. You continued your day to day life attending classes and hanging out with Yuna. Oddly enough Heeseung hadn’t been to class in days. You hadn’t seen him since the night you kicked him out of your dorm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him wondering what was stopping him from coming to class.

Yeji had showed up everyday. Still flaunting Heeseung as much as she could even in his absence. She would talk about him loudly, claiming that they had gone on dates or went to parties. You scoffed at all her intentions of riling you up.

You hated her. That much was a fact, but you wouldn’t allow her to see the effect she really had on you.

Today had been a particularly rainy day. One that had immediately put a huge damper on your mood. Class had felt like a chore walking from class to class becoming increasingly more tiring by the second.

As you were walking to your dorm excited for the long tiring day to be over a buzz from your phone took you out of your train of thought.

Yuna was calling you. You answered the phone “Hey Yuna-“

“Come to the cafe NOW!” She rushed into the phone. “What-?” You were cut off by her yelling into the phone again “Now Y/n!”

The line went dead signaling her hanging up on you. In confusion you rushed to the cafe on campus, a place everyone who was anyone hung out.

When you arrived at the cafe you noticed a considerable large crowd forming. You looked around trying to find a glimpse of Yuna in this massive crowd.

Pushing your way through the people you noticed the multiple eyes folllwing you, watching you like hawk with their prey.

Finally getting to the front of the crowd your eyes caught a huge sign, one that usually hung in front of the cafe lighting up the specials, but today it was different. Today instead of the being lights displaying the daily specials it said one little sentence.

“I love you Y/n. Shouting from the rooftops - You’re heeseung” It was a simple message, but the impact was grand.

He was proclaiming himself to you. In front of the entire campus, in front of Yeji herself. She stood there looking up at the sign angrily. Heeseung sat still next to the sign. His eyes on you and only you.

“What the fuck” Yeji spit out, eyes searching wildly probably looking for you in the sea of people. “Heeseung what is this?” She screeched out her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

“I’m done letting you ruin my life Yeji.” Heeseung spoke, eyes still on yours. “We aren’t together, we never were together. I love Y/n”

Your heart felt as if it were beating a million miles per minute, pounding at your chest yearning to burst out. Heeseung was making a grand gesture, and although you both had alot to talk about and it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused he was making a big effort. He was making it known that he chooses you.

Yeji was red with anger turning on her heels and rushing out of the crowd the eyes of everyone around us watching her meltdown front and center. You were sure she wasn’t done here but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what she had planned next. Your only thoughts were occupied by Heeseung and what he was saying right here right now.

You walked up to him slowly, trying to savor the moment as much as you could. The crowd still watching your every movement. Usually that would be a pretty awkward thing but you honestly couldn’t care less.

“Heeseung-“

“i’m not ashamed of you.” He said cutting you off “I love you, and i want everyone to know. I don’t care what people think. I’m done letting someone like Yeji dictate my life i want to be with you.” He spoke with vigor, trying his hardest to get his point across. You could have sworn you had hearts in your eyes. Your heart swelling with pride for the man that stood in front of you.

“You’re not fully forgiven” You spoke softly “But i love you too.” His eyes lit up at your declaration “So i’m willing to try-“

You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours. Attaching to you like he would never let you go, and honestly you really hope he wouldn’t.

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[moonstruckme]

request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other

Thanks for requesting!

cw: hospital, mention of surgery

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words

Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 

It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 

“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 

“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 

“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.

She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 

“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 

You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”

You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 

Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 

“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 

Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 

Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 

“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 

“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 

“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 

“I am,” he says. 

“But you’re so handsome.”

Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 

You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 

Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 

Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 

You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 

“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 

“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 

Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 

“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 

“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 

Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 

“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

[k0yaz]

shackled.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, arranged marriage, arle referred to as your husband, use of her real name, idk if this is angst so I’ll tag it as angst and fluff, wlw, I actually fucking hate arranged marriages irl but it’s interesting to write about, fun when it’s the character you like and not a 10 year old girl getting married to an ugly ass 60 year old man who gets no bitches, uhm anyway not proofread.

A/N: nobody gonna request arrange marriage? I’ll do it myself with my husband/husbwife arlecchino 🕯️

Uneven beats of your heart pulsed in your eardrums continuously as you stared out the open window, a cool breeze caressing your downcast face gently. Your pupils flickered down to your extended left hand, dilating smaller out of disdain upon catching sight of the cold silver ring encircling your ring finger.

You dreaded it. This arranged marriage parted an endless uncomfortable pit in your stomach, which you had felt would remain as long as you were trapped in a bind you didn’t want. Gazing down at ring once more, you couldn’t help but find it difficult to swallow the choked feeling in your throat whenever you laid eyes upon the ruby, nausea enveloping every possible sense you had in the moment. Rather than a promise ring that bound you to someone you loved, the one on your finger felt like a tiny silver collar clamped around your flesh. An irking feeling that forced you to love a stranger.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Arlecchino. The woman had actively attempted to respect your personal space, being able to tell how much you loathed the inescapable grasp of your arranged marriage. You could tell that she opposed even the thought of this, especially from the way her eyes would stare down at her own ring with an empty and unfeeling expression.

Sighing deeply, you reached an arm up to grasp the satin curtains, before tugging your arms inward in a single dynamic motion. As you turned your back to walk away from the now closed up windows, you felt a gust of light air brush against your nape, causing you to spin around and lower your eyes from slight annoyance. Right. You forgot to shut the windows first. You just went over to shut the windows, still harboring a hint of irritation. Ever since that marriage, you always tended to feel unwilling to do anything anymore. Frequently always irritated by the smallest of actions as you’d always think to yourself—what’s the point?

Upon closing up the windows completely, you fell back onto the intricately decorated sofa set situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your mind still a cluttered mess from all your thoughts being scrambled rather than neatly arranged in an array. You began to ponder once more. How things could’ve been different. Ran away, or disobeyed your parents to a full extent.

There wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t see a point in even trying to keep a happy front anymore. All of your aspirations that you had, every little dream, was now out of your reach as you were shackled into this marriage. The warm air of the heater hit your skin as you rested your cheek into your palm. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you mused at the possible scenarios that could’ve happened if you were free. Perhaps if you were wallowing in your delusion, you could smile atleast once.

“I’m home.”

You blinked from sudden surprise, jolting as the bedroom door creaked open—albeit a bit roughly. Arlecchino’s emotionless voice rang in your ears, had she called out upon entering before? She often enters the living room first, and doesn’t enter the bedroom until nightfall. Then again, you tend to reside in the living room to await your husband’s return, so maybe she simply wondered where you were.

Stray specks of blood decorated her cheek, scattering small splatters ranging in a variety of spots across her face. Right. She was the fourth harbinger after all. You folded your arms as Arlecchino towered over you, still standing upright while her x-marked eyes pierced into you. Shifting uncomfortably, you decided to clear your throat, gesturing towards your own cheek in an attempt to break the thick fog of tension between you two from the lack of words.

“You got some-“

“I’m aware.” Arlecchino replied coldly, making you bite back a scoff at the harbinger’s dismissive response. Well, excuse you for trying to make this shitty marriage more bearable.

Still, it didn’t seem intentionally rude although it did come off that way. You only looked away from her, eyes fixating on a random painting hung over the flower pot on one of the shelves. Hunching your shoulders, you bit down on your quivering lip subtly so that Arlecchino wouldn’t notice. Although you were the one that distanced yourself from her. Although you were the one who only focused on despising this marriage, rather than even trying to get closer to Arlecchino in the slightest for atleast a small hint of peace. It still hurt seeing your husband brush you off like this.

Her seemingly exhausted expression remained glued to her face as she dragged the folded white washcloth along her cheek, eyes staring at the ground aimlessly as she continued to clean her stained face. The weight of all of this had clearly taken a toll on her as well, yet she had to keep a sturdy front for the sake of her profession as a Fatui harbinger. Yet her actions regarding you had always been courteous and respectful. Consistently respecting your boundaries and trying her best to avoid making you feel uncomfortable must have taken a toll on her, especially knowing full well that your resentment for this marriage could have set you off at any given moment.

A sudden wave of sympathy flooded you upon seeing Arlecchino’s tired eyes, dark linings shaded below her eyes as well. Just maybe, you could try to repay her for having your comfort in mind throughout the course of this resented relationship. This relationship wasn’t her fault, and you knew that. She hated this just as much as you did.

Deciding to swallow your pride, you rose to your feet, standing before her as you awkwardly shifted for a couple moments while remaining standing there. Arlecchino paused her movements, raising an eyebrow at your sudden motion of getting up off the couch. She simply stared at you with a puzzled gaze, trying to figure out your sudden want to interact with her.

Hesitantly, you reached out a shaky hand, lining it up with her cheek and gesturing her to lean in. Arlecchino on the other hand, wasn’t expecting you to switch up suddenly like this, only keeping her skeptical gaze locked onto your own eyes. It felt like a trap to lean in to someone who was so hesitant to even look at her. No matter how badly she wanted to lean into the soft skin of your palm, her hesitance seemed to uphold her rationality despite her exhaustion.

“Arle…it’s okay, you can lean in…”

She needn’t be told twice as you felt her hand grab ahold of your wrist to keep it in place, her head nearly collapsing against your hand. Deep breaths echoed within the vicinity, her breaths cancelling every other noise around you two as Arlecchino slowly composed herself from your touch. She pulled back after a couple moments, her cold front faltering for a moment with a flash of tenderness, before immediately snapping back to her calm demeanor.

However, you didn’t stop there. You don’t know what flipped that switch in you, but you just felt the urge to grow closer to Arlecchino. Perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone in the hellhole of a marriage, and that you two may be suffering together. Knowing she hated this as much as you was comforting, it remedied your internal turmoil slightly, and made you detest the idea of anyone else going through what you were. Or maybe, it was the fact that Arlecchino didn’t push anything in this marriage, and respected you, preventing your mental state from growing worse. It could even be both.

Regardless, you wanted to atleast provide a sort of ease to her. Cupping her cheek once more, you pulled the washcloth from her hand, rubbing it against her cheek in circular motions as stains of blood began to soak up onto the cloth and coloring it red. Arlecchino didn’t seem to protest your attempt at soothing her, face pressing further into your shaky palm as it seemed to be working. The quiet buzz of the heater reverberating through the silence, and the general tidy atmosphere of the neatly arranged bed made everything feel so right. As if this marriage wasn’t so awful after all.

Arlecchino exhaled a swift sigh as you finished washing up her face, remaining silent. The two of you awkwardly awaited for the other to speak up, the crickets outside chirping louder than the two of you by this point. You finally decided to say something, face tinged a light pink from moderate embarrassment

“You didn’t want this either did you?”

Arlecchino shook her head in affirmation, her eyes still avoiding yours—as if she was afraid that your vulnerability would shift over to her, and shatter her calm self at this moment.

“I’m well aware of this situation. Your parents are already closely associated with the Fatui, and want wanted you to marry a harbinger in order to elevate their own status for the sake of the family.” She replied. A sour taste seeped onto your tongue at the mention of the reason why you were forced into this in the first place, unpleasant memories beginning to race through your mind for a few moments.

“Why did you accept the offer then? You could’ve easily declined if you didn’t want to be in this marriage either. There’s multiple other harbingers my parents would’ve auctioned me off to.” You said bitterly, strangely hating the idea of getting married to anyone who wasn’t Arlecchino at this point. Arlecchino merely shrugged in response, raising her shoulders to remove the white fur coat cloaking her and draping it neatly over the coat hanger drilled into the wall.

“I’m not sure.” She paused, taking some time to think over another answer to compensate for her vague response. “I believe I just felt it was necessary in that moment.”

You sighed back collapsing onto the mattress. Suddenly, you felt an arm circle your waist, pulling you closer as you felt Arlecchino push her torso flush against your back. Your face burned from the sudden intimate action, the warmth of her body only serving to make you lean into her further as her sharp nails raked along your stomach lightly. Arlecchino whispered out against you, visibly less uptight than when she came in. She was a bit more relaxed and clingy with you simply with a mere touch against her cheek, it was sweet honestly.

“I still care about you, (Name).” She muttered against your neck, voice muffled as she was evidently quite tired. Pale rays of the moonlight illuminated Arlecchino’s now eased expression, watching her eyes lowered shut as her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Surprisingly, you found yourself relishing in the comfort of her arms as you flipped onto your side facing her to examine her rested features.

“…I’m starting to care about you too, Peruere.”

Your hand drew down along her arm, all the way from the skin of her shoulder down to the black faded enveloping her arms from her curse. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. You found solace in the fact that you could make the best out of this marriage with a woman who kept you in mind and tried her best to care about your interests.

Maybe, you could warm up to her.

A/N: im screaming idk if this turned out good guys pls asaaawaabshshs but yayyyyy arlecchino MY CONTENT WARNINGS WERE ASS ON THIS ONE WHY ARE THEY SO BORING AND SAD ‼️

[veronicaphoenix]

to hold you, to heal you | n.s.

Summary: Noah is exhausted. It feels as if he's failing at everything, including at being the boyfriend his girl deserves. She's there to reassure him that that couldn't be further from the truth.

Tags & trigger warnings: angst, implied poor mental health (self-doubt, anxiety, depression), mentions of sex, fluff, comfort, just pretend live 2024.

words: 1.9k | my works

to hold you, to heal you — noah sebastian x fem. reader

The house was shrouded in quietness, the calming fragance of incense lit half an hour ago still lingering in the air. 

            Noah had gone to bed an hour earlier; he was exhausted. 

            Silently, she made her way to the bedroom, careful not to disturb him.

            He lay on his side of the bed as she entered, back turned to her, the covers barely draped over his bare torso.

            The temperatures had risen in the past two weeks, making the house uncomfortably warm. They should've swapped the covers for summer sheets, but neither could muster the energy to change them just yet.

            She tiptoed to her side of the bed and slipped under the covers, nestling herself right behind Noah, wrapping an arm around his stomach and pressing her chest to his back, her cheek resting against his shoulder. 

            It was often that they found each other like this: her spooning him. They loved to intertwine their legs beneath the sheets, and he loved to drag her hand to his chest, right where his heart beat. He wanted her to feel it, to feel how his heart’s rhythm transformed from a relentless dance to a gentle pulse at her touch. 

            She nuzzled the tip of her nose against the nape of his neck, delighting in the feel of his soft locks, growing longer by the day. His hand found hers and guided it to the spot where his heart resided. She focused on his heartbeat for a while, on his breathing. She let the warmth of his body transfer to hers, despite the heat already filling the room. 

            Cooconing him like that felt like a promise that would eventually break. When he was in her arms, she felt as though she could shield him from anything, everything. She could just keep him caged, safe and sound tucked against her body, much smaller than his yet capable of safeguarding him. She so desperately wanted to keep that promise… 

            Yet, she was aware that those we love eventually slip, one way or another, no matter how much we try to ease their fall. 

            Nobody is extempt from hurting. 

            And now Noah was hurting. Her promise hadn’t lasted.

            She tightened her grip unconsciously when a wave of anger and sadness washed over her, her muscles pressing against Noah’s, her heart wanting —needing— to break through the skin and find Noah’s, merge with his, beat as one. 

            Love is always a constant battle of trying, trying, failing, trying, trying again, and sometimes, making it right. 

            Tonight, she would make it right. She would heal him one way or another; take some of his pain and store it in her own chest, in her veins, in her bones. 

            Blinking away the tears, she pulled back slightly, just enough to see his back. It was dark, but the moonlight filtering through the curtains revealed the faint lines of his tattoos. Unable to stop herself, she traced the designs with a gentle finger, following every curve and sharp edge. 

            Noah shivered beneath her touch, his muscles tensing. 

            In less than a minute, he turned onto his back, his hands seeking her. He grasped her and positioned her astride his lap, his hands resting on her hips while hers landed on his chest. He wore nothing but black boxers, and she was clad in his t-shirt and cotton panties. 

            Under the moonlight, she found his October eyes. 

            “Hi,” she said softly. 

            “Hi,” Noah replied.

            “Did I wake you?”

            “No,” he answered, their voices mere whispers in the night. “Couldn’t sleep,” he explained, a hint of resignation in his voice. 

            It was soft now, not the rough, visceral one he used on stage for some of Bad Omens’s songs. This was the voice she loved the most, the deep raw timbre that was yet so delicate, both tender and masculine, holding harmony within a quiet power. Every time she heard her name uttered with that voice, that tone so soft yet demanding, she melted in his hands.  

            “The voices?” she guessed.

            Noah nodded, letting out a heavy sight that he’d tried to contain, his gaze falling. She hated seeing him so conflicted, but there was only so much she could do. She didn’t know what else to do beside be by his side, engulfed in the dark of the after hours and surrounded by white noise. 

            With nothing more than a hmm, she brushed some hairs away from his face, and spent the next few minutes tracing her thumb along his forehead and then down his left eyebrow, trying to push some of his worries away. His eyes closed momentarily, and his own fingers began to move in a soothing rhythm where they touched the skin of her thighs. The weight of her on top of him always felt delightful, a comforting pressure.

            But the sensation lasted only a few seconds. He grasped her wrist, holding her hand away from him. 

            “You deserve someone better than me.”

            His words caught her off ward, making her frown and shift back a little, trying to discern his expression in the dark. 

            But he looked resolute, no ounce of doubt on his face as the words seemed to fill the space they were in, threatening to suffocate them. 

            “Noah—”

            “You should be with someone that doesn’t spend most of the time away,” he began, “someone who isn’t locked in the studio whenever he’s home. Someone who doesn’t take time off to get his mind straight instead of choosing time off to be with his girl.”

            She was tempted to snort. He was being silly. Yet, she knew it wasn’t the time to take his confessions lightly. He was suffering, and her job was to ease that pain, even if it meant going through the same conversation they’d had many times before.

            “Is that what the voices told you?” she inquired softly.

            She was met with silence, the room charging up with his unspoken words.

            “Noah,” she said, her tone determined as she tried to capture his full attention. She freed herself from his grasp and leaned forward, resting her forearms on his chest and reaching the sides of his face with her hands. He hadn’t shaved in the last three days and a little stubble was growing. “I love watching you work,” she said. “It’s what makes you happy, and I’d never do anything to keep your happiness away. Same goes for your health. You need this. There’s no arguing about it.”

            He didn’t seem convinced by her words, his hands falling to the sides of her body, resting apathetically on the mattress. He felt defeated. 

            “Noah, baby,” she insisted, calling his name softly and touching his chin with two fingers. Look at me. Listen to me. “You’re driven by passion, and that same passion is the one that led you to me, so please, don’t say that I don’t deserve you. I deserve no one but you.”

            She waited for her words to sink in. There was a little crease between his eyebrows now. He was still doubtful, torturing himself needlessly. 

            “I want you happy and healthy, and taking time off isn’t something you should feel guilty for. I’m proud of you for it. And I’ll be happy if you decide to stay locked up in the house for a month. I’ll stay here with you because a healthy Noah is my favorite Noah.”

            Under other circumstance, he would have made a joke about that, probably a dirty one about her favorite Noah. But that night, the truth was that he didn’t feel like laughing. As much as he loved her smile and her little laughs, there was a demon on his shoulder reminding him of all his failures and all his weaknessses. 

            She was so sweet to him, though. Always making an effort to knock off that demon and step on the devilish creature, turn it to dust with her fierceless light. 

            His hand instinctively rose to her cheek, his thumb moving in a slow, almost reverent motion that stirred her heart. She leaned into his touch, her own hands cradling his face and keeping him safe, enveloped in her embrace. 

            She missed him. She had missed him terribly over the last few months. The entire year, in fact. But she was stronger than her own demons. She watched from afar as her boy made his way up, as his band grew, as their artistry gained recognition beyond the walls of their homemade studio with each passing day. She watched Noah’s tireless dedication to reaching out to the world with his music, his stories, the worlds capable of creating on his own. She watched as he poured his heart and soul into it, and how time began to consume him, both day and night. 

            Until he could bear it no longer. 

            She touched her lips to his. She kissed him for a brief moment. Soft and slow, emphasizing her presence, her connection to his very soul. And he responded delightfully, breaking the contact just for a few seconds, keeping the kiss a ghost, his lips hovering over hers beyond touch. 

            Inhaling his fresh breath, she wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted to let herself drown in the kiss. 

            When he did kiss her, it was the most achingly slow kiss he had ever given her. It was a kiss that said, “I’m tired. I need slow. I need time to stop. Please, hold me.” 

            And she would hold him. Any time. Always.

            As her body relaxed on top of his, he cupped her entire face in his hands, keeping their mouths locked together. She tasted divine, and he cursed every second he had to pause to take a breath before diving back in with a little sigh.  

            When she shifted on top of him and he felt her core hovering right where he should’ve had an erection, he felt instead another failing.  

            “I’m sorry,” he murmured, withdrawing from her, his hands slipping away, turning his head so that his cheek pressed to the pillow. He exhaled with defeat. 

            “Sorry for what?” she asked, disconcerted.

            “I’m not… I’m not in the mood for sex right now. I’m sorry.”

            “Why do you have to be sorry for that?” she questioned, her confusion deepening. “I’m not here to demand that from you,” she added. Far from it. It pained her that he thought she needed that every time he kissed her. It pained her to see him punishing himself again for simply not feeling up to it, as if there was something wrong with it. “In fact, I just hoped I could just hold you all night.” 

            Noah looked back at her, somewhat taken aback. Not the reply he had expected. 

            He was definitely not his usual self. 

            “Would you let me?” she pleaded, blinking. 

            It took him a moment, but finally he relented, placing a hand behind her head to pull her down so that she rested against his chest. With each steady rise and fall, she smiled through watery eyes, hoping that tonight she could keep her promise: to hold him, to heal him, if only until the sun rose again. 

            She had just closed her eyes when his voice filled her ears again, soft, delicate, vulnerable.

            “I’m so afraid, that the walls that I have made have locked me in. I’m not okay. But I can try my best to just pretend…”

            He was singing to her.

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health & well-being, you are not alone and there is always someone willing to listen and help. Reach out and keep fighting. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel.

[jeankluv]

But daddy I love him - Satoru Gojo [ch.01]

Short series

Summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

Tags of the series: +18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, unsafe sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n.

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

Note: this is going to be a short series, of around two or three chapters, it’s a way to say thank you for the 300 followers. The tags are in general for the series, in this chapter there are only suggestive language and some misogyny comments and actions, according to the time that is set. Oc and Satoru are +20

words: 4k

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You were on the beach, near the house, you had gone for a walk and read a book by the seashore. The morning was warm and your blue dress moved due to the sea breeze that hit you. Placing a lock of your hair behind your ear, you looked at the immense sea before you.

You had rarely left your place of residence and even less had you crossed the sea. But this was a fervent dream that you had longed for since you had started reading stories from different places in the world.

But your parents were strict and you had a weak body to be able to make that journey. So the only thing left was to long for something that would not happen and immerse yourself in your beloved books.

You turned the page of the book you had brought with you and continued reading. It was a romantic book, one of those that made butterflies flutter in your stomach with just words written on a piece of paper. You had always wondered if it really happened, if when you were in love with someone those butterflies appeared and fluttered.

You had never fallen in love, but you had always longed for it. You knew that when the time came, you would be married to someone, but the mere idea of ​​marrying someone, with whom you could never feel those butterflies or any kind of affection, terrified you.

You were terrified of the idea of ​​ending up like your parents and raising your children in a loveless home, like you had.

“It’s the book good, angel?” A deep voice spoke in front of you.

Resting the book against your chest, you looked up, meeting a face you didn't know. His gaze was sharp and even a little arrogant. You stayed watching him, while his gaze continued to rest on you and you felt like he was somehow undressing you with his eyes. You held the book tighter to your chest and drew your legs up a little.

“Oh don’t be afraid princess. I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” You felt your face heat up at his words.

“Who are you?” You murmured.

“Satoru.” He said, giving a bite to the apple on his hand. “What are you reading angel?” He pointed to the book.

You hesitated, unsure if you should keep talking with that unkown man. “I think I should leave.” You said getting up carefully.

The man whose name was Satoru cleared his throat. "Come on angel, don't tell me that my presence scared you."

“I would rather be alone sir.” You whispered. “Now I will take my leave.” You said turning around and moving fast across the beach.

You could still feel his gaze on you, never leaving you, not until you disappeared from his sight. Walking across the dirt road that connected your house to the beach, you looked back to make sure the man wasn't following you. Your breathing was labored and your heart was beating rapidly when you reached the door. Taking another breath through your nostrils, you straightened your back and put on the best of your smiles as you entered the house.

"My lady." One of the household maids approached you. “Her mother wants to see her.”

"Something happened?" You bowed your head.

“No, miss, I just want to talk to you about the dinner that will be held tonight.”

“Oh, yeah okay.” You nodded.

Still clutching the book to your chest, you walked through the house. You were not the wealthiest in the county, but your father had a good fortune and from time to time he held parties, in a desperate attempt to get one of the rich men to notice his daughter and thus marry her.

That night you would once again have to endure the lustful gazes of men three times your age, while you made excuses not to commit to them. But time was fleeting and his excuses were slowly running out.

You knocked on the door and heard your mother telling you to enter.

“Mother.” You bowed your head. “I heard you called me.”

“Yes.” She said. “Tonight as you know there will be a party in our house.” You nodded. “I want you to stay away from one of our guests.”

“Stay away? Wouldn't that be rude?”

“No. That man is no good news.” She stood up and walked to the window. “It doesn’t matter how wealthy he is, he is no good for our family.” Then she turned around and walked towards you. “So please my beautiful daughter, don’t you dare approach that man.” A shiver ran through your body when you saw your mother's threatening gaze and you nodded with fear.

“May I ask, what’s his name mother?” You said, still frightened.

“It's Duke Satoru Gojo. I heard he is good looking but besides that, there is nothing good about him.”

Satoru

That was the name of that man, wasn’t it?

“Is something wrong?” Your mother asked.

“No, nothing is wrong mother.” You responded feeling the nervousness in your words. “I retire to my room to start getting ready for the party.” Your mother nodded and you left the room.

You walked back to your room, thinking about the man once again. Just thinking about him sent a shiver down your spine. Mother had asked you not to approach him, but you had the feeling that he would be the one to approach you. Remembering your meeting on the beach, you wouldn't have thought he was a lord or anything like that. To tell the truth, you thought that he was one of the villagers in town who wanted to bother you, for the way he was dressed up.

He was wearing a white shirt, with the top buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. With just one glance you could see that he was well toned. A subtle blush appeared on your face as you realized what you were thinking about. You shook your head to get rid of those improper thoughts.

“My lady?” A knock on your door brought you back.

“Rose!” You smiled at your maid.

“I’m here to start your preparations for tonight’s party.” She smiled with a small nod.

“That’s perfect. Let’s begin.”

And before you realized it, you were already putting on the final touches of your makeup and the sun had already set on the horizon of the sea. Rose said goodbye to you when you headed towards the door and with a firm step you headed to the entrance where the guests were waiting and where that man would surely also be.

Going down the stairs, you stood next to your parents, to welcome the guests arriving at the party. The faces of people already familiar and new, passed by one by one. Feeling a relief in your chest when you saw that that man did not appear, you entered the party. There were hardly any people your age or people with whom you could start a conversation that you liked.

“My lady?” You turned to see the face of the man who had called you.

He was a marquis from near the capital, he was approximately 40 years old, you heard that his wife died and now he was looking for a young girl to remarry and thus give him a male heir.

Taking a step back you greeted him. "Sir." You put on the best of your smiles.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my lady.” He flattered you, bringing the glass of wine to his mouth, his face was dyed a soft red so, it was more than evident, that this was not his first glass of wine. “It's a shame no one has courted you yet.” He said taking a step forward, you took one step back.

“The right man hasn’t appeared yet, sir.” You wanted to escape that conversation as soon as possible.

“My lady, how about I invite you to my country side house and let me court you properly?” He raised his hand so you could place yours on top of it.

Your mouth went dry and your hands started to shake. “I…” You wanted to say no, but that would be nonsense and disrespectful.

“I think the lady is not very interested in an insect like you.” A deep voice spoke behind you.

A chill ran down your spine when you heard that voice. It was him.

You raised your face to see him standing behind you, with a frivolous smile looking at the marquis you were conversing with.

”Duke Satoru Gojo, excuse me. How are you? I didn’t expect to see him at this party.” The marquis who seconds ago possessed tremendous confidence was now shaking like a wet puppy.

“Pretty annoyed, because I have to see insects like you believing themselves to be something they're not.” He scratched his head and took a step forward, standing at your height. “Now disappear from my sight.” You trembled as you heard his tone and saw his murderous look.

Who was that man? Your gaze was fixed on him and you did not see the marquis flee the place in terror. When you realized you were both alone and he looked at you with those same hungry eyes with which he had looked at you that morning on the beach.

“Angel, we met each other once again.” He bowed a little. “You look even more beautiful than this morning.” He tangled one of your locks in his finger.

“Duke.” Taking a step back from him, you bowed to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You said without looking at his eyes.

Mother told you to stay away from him, so you needed to escape from there as soon as possible.

“Oh I’m a bit disappointed that you won’t look at me.” You heard him chuckling. “You are scared of me little one?”

“Sorry duke, but I must take my leave.” Trying to move away from him, he held your wrist pressing you against his torso.

“Careful angel.” He whispered into your ear, causing your legs to tremble at his warm breath. “You almost dumped into the waiter.”

And then you noticed, the waiter that was there holding the tray with more drinks. "I’m so sorry." You told the waiter.

The waiter shook his head and smiled at you, leaving your sight. "You have to be more careful angel, you could have hurt yourself." He whispered again against your ear.

“Thank you…” You whispered, releasing you from his grip and separating you from his muscular body.

Being close to him, his warmth and touch had caused a strange feeling in you.

“Angel, are you avoiding me?” His face came dangerously close to yours and your cheeks turned a subtle crimson red.

“No duke, that would be rude.” You looked down to your feet.

“So angel, how about you join me for a walk on this warm summer night.” He extended his hand towards you.

Your heart was beating strongly in your chest, doubting what you should do. Your mind wandered to the conversation with your mother, where she implored you to stay away from that man. But your heart wanted to grab that hand of his and take you for a walk that night. With your hand trembling you grabbed the duke's hand and together you left the house.

The cold of the night hit your body, causing you to shrink subtly, trying not to let your body heat escape. Instinctively you squeezed your hand, causing you to squeeze the duke's hand subtly. Realizing this, you moved your hand away and placed it against your chest, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

The duke looked you up and down and took off his jacket, slinging it over your shoulders. You don't know if it was because of the jacket or because of the gesture, but you felt an intense heat settle on your face.

“Thank you duke.” You murmured holding into his jacket.

The duke just nodded and continued walking. Your gaze focused on his back and your mother's words echoed in your head again. You still had time to return to the party and ignore that you had been with that man there, but as before your heart decided for you and you walked following his step.

“So angel.” He spoke, taking what it looked like a cigarette out of his pocket. “Was the book you were reading good?”

“Yeah… it was.” His voice was making you feel things.

“What was it about?” He put the cigarette on his mouth and smiled at you while lighting up.

“About…” Your words didn’t want to come out of your mouth. “About a girl and boy that fell in love and escaped.”

“Oh… interesting.” He smiled. “You still don’t seem to trust me very much angel. Did someone talk bad about me?”

“No duke, not at all.” You hated to lie but you couldn’t expose your mother or else things could get complicated for your family.

“I don’t like when beautiful girls lie.” You felt his hand under your chin. “Tell me angel. What did they say about me?”

You trembled under his touch. “That… that you are no good news.”

With a crooked smile he spat the cigarette smoke away from you. “And that’s what you think, princess?” He asked you, narrowing his gaze.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to meet the duke, so I can not give an opinion.”

With a smile and with the cigarette between his teeth, he removed his hand from under your chin and walked to a stone seat overlooking the sea and sat there. You looked at his figure, muscular and large, feeling that heat in you again.

“Angel, don’t be shy and sit here with me.” He extended his hand and gestured for you to come closer. “I would like to know more about the beautiful lady of this house.”

You sat down next to him, placing your hands thighly on your knees, still nervous due to his presence.

“Ask me whatever you want, angel. I already told you.” He got near you. “I won’t bite you, unless you ask me to.”

Taking a deep breath, you spoke. “Why do you have a bad reputation?”

“Well…” He chuckled. “People think I killed my brother, to take the title and the power.”

“But those surely are just rumors right?” Your heart was beating faster and faster with each passing second.

“Maybe I did kill him, angel.” You began to feel dizzy, was he for real? “Don’t look at me like that angel, I didn’t kill him. My brother was clumsy and an idiot, he died due to his clumsiness but I loved him, at the end of the day he was my brother.” He threw the cigarette away. “But everyone started to believe that lie and to say I manipulated him because the title, instead of going to his son, it was leave it to me.” He shrugged. “Do you still think I’m bad angel?”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry you have to face those rumors.”

“How sweet of you angel.” He smiled. “That man… he wanted to marry you, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Someone your age would be expected to be already married.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but I have a weak body, so my parents are trying to push it away.” You explained.

“Are they?” You looked at him confused. “Or are you?”

“What do you mean? I would never…”

“Princess it seems to me that you don’t want to marry any of those old insects and that you use the bland excuse of having a poor body to get away with it.” He cockily smiled. “I’m wrong?”

“That’s a gross lie, I would never lie about my body being weak.” You blurted out, embarrassed by his words.

He chuckled softly. “Okay angel, I will try to believe in your words.” He turned to face you. “But honestly, you would need a better match than those suitors your parents want to assign you. A princess like you doesn't deserve to be with those insects.”

You looked down. “I don’t have a say on what my father chooses for me. Once the moment comes, I will marry the person he chooses for me.”

“And that’s what you want, angel?” You felt his breath on your ear. “Or you want one of those love stories?”

You took a deep breath. “Those stories never come true, I’m destined to marry someone I won’t love, but you know.” You smiled looking at him. “Maybe with time love can happen.”

“Or maybe it never happens and you are unhappy for the rest of your life.” He said with those eyes all over you.

“Why are you telling me these things duke? Isn't it a bit rude to be talking like that to a lady?” You said.

“Is it?” He tilted. “I don’t know angel.” He stood up and you followed him with your gaze. “So you say you will marry anyone your father chooses. Interesting.” He smirked and watching that smirk, it made your body tremble.

You watched as he took a pocket watch out of his pocket and how he looked at it. “Duke…” You called him. “Why did you come to the party?” It was a question you have been wanting to ask since your mother informed you he was coming. “I don’t want to sound rude or anything, but the travel from your residence to here is quite long.”

He put the watch back in his pocket and smiled at you. “Just wanted to see with my own eyes how beautiful the lady of the house was or if the rumors were all fake.” He held your hand and brought it to his lips. “And the rumors were not wrong.” He said planting a kiss on your knuckles.

Your legs shook as the duke sank his teeth into the fabric of your gloves and gently began to remove it. But the real weakness came when he ran his tongue between your fingers while his piercing eyes were fixed on you.

An immense heat was established in the lower area of ​​your abdomen and as much as you wanted to remove your hand from its touch, the pleasant sensation it was causing in you, prevented it.

“I will keep this glove with me, angel.” He kissed the glove and put it in his pocket. “We will see each other again soon, angel.”

And you watched him walk away, disappearing in the darkness of the night. You stayed on the bench for a few minutes, thinking about what just happened and feeling a new sensation on your body that you could not quite understand.

Standing back up you walked back to the house, getting welcomed by the noise of the people speaking, singing and dancing.

“Where were you?” Your mother appeared. “And whose jacket is that?” She raised your voice.

“I was outside and a…”

“Outside on your own?” She held your arm.

“Mother, you’re hurting me…” You whispered.

“Don’t tell me you were being a slut in our garden?” She asked you.

“What? Mother no, I was just taking fresh air.” You felt how your eyes got wet. “Please mother.”

“Agh.” She let your arm go. “Come with me, your father is going to introduce you to someone.” She turned around and walked.

You followed her in silence and with your head low, still feeling scared for your mother’s tone and angry look on her face. When you looked back up, you saw your father talking with a man, an unknown man for you. He looked the same age as your parents and was laughing with your father while smoking and drinking.

“Oh!” Your father said. “Look Marquis Harrison, this is my one and only daughter.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.” You bowed your head.

“You have a really beautiful daughter.” The man spoke looking at your father.

“Yeah.” Your father laughed. “And you know Marquis Harrison, she is still unmarried and in the perfect age to to conceive.”

You felt your pulse accelerate and your breathing shorten, while you listened to your father speak. You knew where that conversation was going and you didn't want it to get to that point, you didn't want to marry that man.

You felt like the corset was tightening you more and more and how it was difficult for you to breathe with each passing moment.

Duke Satoru had been right, you had been lying about having a weak body and you had been paying gold coins to your personal doctor to corroborate it. But that excuse would soon be exhausted.

“Oh it’s that right my lady?” The man spoke to you.

You noticed the vein in your neck throbbing strongly, you felt like you would faint at any moment.

“Answer to Marquis Smith.” Your mother, angrily whispered to you.

“I…”

“Angel.” That deep voice again. “I totally forgot about my jacket.” He approached you causing all eyes to fall on him and then on you when he was in front of you.

Your cheeks turned red as you saw his face again, as if something about him had an instant effect on you.

"What does this mean?" Your mother raises her voice.

“Oh ma'am, I'm afraid I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself to the hosts of the party.” He turned to face your parents. “I am Duke Satoru Gojo, thank you for inviting me to this party.” He smiled, bowing slightly and placing her hand on her chest.

“Are you the one who gave the jacket to my daughter?” Your mother asked.

“That's right ma'am, I found her daughter outside getting some air and I lent her my jacket.” He lied.

Your mother took two steps towards you and she grabbed you tightly by the arm, she didn't care that all eyes were on you. “Didn't I tell you to stay away from him, don’t tell me you are a slut who spreads her legs out there?”

“Mother please.” You felt your eyes sting.

Your father shook his head. “Our daughter is a bit poorly raised, Duke, we are sorry if something uncomfortable could have happened.” You felt like crying at that very moment, you wanted someone to get you out of there. You needed someone to do it.

The duke looked at you and then at your father. "I think the only rude people here are the hosts of this party, who dedicate themselves to humiliating their only daughter in front of all the guests, while trying to marry her to the highest bidder." The Duke's words came out like darts from his mouth and his gaze was so extremely sharp, you would swear he could cut the air.

“How dare you…” your father blurted out with his face slightly red.

“I want to marry your daughter.” The duke cut your father.

A loud gasp was heard in the room and you looked at him stunned.

“Stay away from her.” Your mother blurted, still holding your arm thighly.

He completely ignored your mother. “I will be staying in the house, so your daughter and I can meet better.” He sharply looked at your dad. “I hope this is not an impediment or I will have to contact his majesty the King.” He threatened.

"Alright." Your father stammered, looking at the ground. The duke turned and removed your mother's grip on your arm.

He lifted your chin with his hand and smiled. “Now we can see each other more, angel.”

You swallowed dryly, looking into his eyes and feeling that flame light up inside you once again.

[earthtooz]

x : AVOIDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.

warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing

a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child &lt;3

when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.

however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.

you never expected to find love either.

but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.

“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.

“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”

“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”

the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.

“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.

“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”

“bye!”

hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.

when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.

how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.

love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 

but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.

it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.

“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.

“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”

“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”

the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.

as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.

it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.

“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”

“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”

“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”

“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 

the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”

“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.

“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”

“mk.”

you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.

or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.

suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.

“going somewhere?” kafka asks.

picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”

“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”

“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”

“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”

“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 

it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 

whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.

“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”

“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.

“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”

kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.

“do you know anything about that?”

“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.

the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.

“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.

“why not you?”

“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”

“okay. fine.”

when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.

it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.

the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.

gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 

he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 

(if only he knew). 

a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.

“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 

kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.

“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”

“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”

“he does that all the time.”

“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 

you freeze. “what?”

“hm? did i say something peculiar?”

inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.

“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 

she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 

“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 

no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.

and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.

“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”

“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”

“nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“are you sure?”

“positive.”

“positive?”

you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”

“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”

panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”

“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”

“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”

“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”

you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.

“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”

“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 

“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.

“yeah. it is.”

“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”

“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”

“so what’s the problem?”

“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”

“is that bad?”

“for my heart, yes.”

“oh my- so you like him?”

you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”

the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.

“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”

your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.

kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.

“hi,” you start, looking away. 

he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.

“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 

instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 

(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)

“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[stvharrngton]

Ooh requests? Literally anything mushy-gushy lovey-dovey romantic with Steve! Like cuddling under blankets on movie nights that get a bit handsy? Or romantic getaway weekends where it's just you and him? Or god-forbid wedding night sex? That man would be on cloud nine on his wedding day?? The sex would be SO incredibly sweet and tender I just know it!

i love all of these ideas but i went with wedding night i hope that's ok!! <3 ps I'm sorry this took so long :(

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, fingering, unprotected p in v, steve is a lil cocky but v sweet

word count: 3.1k

requests are open!

You reached the top floor of the hotel, the floor where the Honeymoon Suite resided. You and Steve walked hand in hand, fingers interlocked together before he abandoned that, scooping you up in his arms.

“Steve!” you squealed, clutching onto him for dear life as he carried you the rest of the way down the hall.

“What?” he asked innocently, warm honey eyes glancing down at you, “It’s tradition, I have to carry you over the threshold as the new Mrs. Harrington.”

You swooned at hearing that for the millionth time tonight but it never got any older. Your wedding wasn’t big, nor fancy, by any means but it was what you wanted. All your closest friends and family by your side as you married the love of your life.

Watching from his arms as Steve struggled to get the key in the lock of the door, you hid your giggles behind pursed lips before he finally managed to turn the lock. 

The room was beautifully put together, the big, soft, four poster bed the centrepiece. Big windows and plush furniture, complete with champagne on ice for you both. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it was everything you could have dreamed of. You both insisted on paying for the wedding yourselves, denying help from friends and family. But you knew Steve’s Mom couldn’t take no for an answer, depositing a substantial amount of cash in her only son’s bank account.

“Here,” Steve hummed, setting you down on the edge of the bed, kneeling to the floor so he could unbuckle the small strap on your shoes. He set them aside, taking both your hands in his much larger ones, placing a kiss to each knuckle before squeezing them tight.

Steve stood up straight now, leaning into you to brush his lips against yours, ever so softly. The kiss was sweet and heartfelt, his palm cupping your cheek as your lips moved against each other. Your noses brushed against one another’s when you pulled apart, the tip of Steve’s sculpted nose trailed along the slope of your own.

“I still can’t believe we’re married,” he whispered, voice sincere as he spoke, “I know it’s been hours but I’m so lucky.”

His words made your heart flutter. The soft look in his eyes, orbs of warm honey so loving and wet, his thumb soothing over the apple of your cheek, you felt so in love. You blinked up at him with big doe eyes before he went back in for another kiss.

Steve soon switched your positions with him sitting on the bed and you between his legs. He coaxed you into his lap, your knees pressing into the bed either side of Steve’s thighs and you were grateful the skirt of your dress allowed for ample movement. Steve’s large hands caressed your back, moving up and down over the lace bodice whilst his lips never left yours.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?” he whispered against your lips, fingers working delicately to undo your dress, allowing you to step out of the material. Once your dress was safety away, you stepped back between Steve’s spread legs, his large palms immediately clutching at your waist.

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” he cooed, pressing featherlight kisses to your stomach as his fingers explored the white lace that covered the intimate parts of your body, “my beautiful wife.”

You swooned at his words, the butterflies swarming in your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You were soon back in Steve’s lap, your lips colliding once more in a heated kiss. His hands found your back again, travelling down until they reached the globes of your ass, squeezing at the flesh. Steve licked into you all pretty, all tender and sweet as your fingers rushed to unbutton his shirt, his jacket and waistcoat abandoned long ago.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips over Steve, already feeling too good and he’d barely got started. You hummed in content as his lips found your neck, teeth nipping at the sweet spot behind your ear, his tongue darting out to soothe the bite. 

Steve flipped you over, your back hitting the bed with a soft thud. He soon rid himself of his shirt, situating himself rightfully between your legs. His hands trailed over your body, large hands squeezing at your tits, his lips following with kisses in their wake. You sighed out your husband’s name in response.

“Tell me what you want, honey,” he whispered. His mouth made its way down your body until his lips reached your heat, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses over the material of your panties.

You whimpered as you leaned up on your elbows, eyes wet and pleading with your husband. You couldn’t think straight, didn’t know what you wanted, all you knew is that you wanted Steve, in any way he could give.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” you breathed, back aching as Steve was still making work of soaking your panties, in more ways than one, “your fingers! Fuck, I want your fingers, Steve.”

Steve could only chuckle as you squealed out your answer, one that he was surely satisfied with. “Anything for you, my beautiful wife.” He spoke against your skin, fingers hooking beneath your panties, pulling the lace down your legs, careful not to displace the frilly garter that was snug around your thigh.

The words made you hide a blush behind your arm as you slumped back against the bed. You felt his fingers curl around your wrist, moving your arm away from your face as Steve’s lips found your neck. Whispering against your skin, leaving wet kisses in their wake, “Come on, baby. Let me see you.”

Steve peppered kisses all over your face until you couldn’t help but let a smile creep back on your face. His fingers headed south, the pads of his fingertips ghosting over your tits, circling the peaks of your nipples before brushing over your stomach and finally reaching your pussy.

Your legs moved farther apart by instinct, letting Steve’s fingers explore your pussy; your throbbing clit, your sopping wet hole. He hummed against your skin as he felt you, your wetness coating his fingers as he spread it around. Your skin went hot as he spoke once more, “You’re already so wet, baby, hm? Such a perfect, little pussy.”

A low moan tumbled from your lips at his words, your eyes fluttering shut as he finally slipped a finger inside. Just a single digit but it was enough to have you falling apart beneath him. He pumped it slowly, fucking his finger in and out of your cunt as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around the pert bud.

Your back arched from the bed as Steve brushed his thumb over your puffy clit, smirking as you moaned his name.

“Want another, honey? Is that it?” he asked, his finger picking up the pace, curling at the knuckle, “Think you can handle it? Doing so good for me.”

You couldn’t help but whine, clutching at the sheets as your other hand found Steve’s soft locks. You did your best to nod your head, mumbling something that resembled a please.

So Steve plunged a second finger inside your hole, scissoring and stretching you open as your noises only got louder. The pace of Steve’s fingers grew gradually, his thumb rubbing at your clit harsher. Your slick leaked down his fingers and Steve only grew stiffer at the sound of his fingers fucking your wet pussy.

He watched as your eyes went glassy, barely able to keep them open. Steve towered over you, hooking his leg over your own to keep your thighs spread, his crotch subtly rutting against your soft, doughy thigh. His fingers were fucking you at speed now, Steve liked to be soft and gentle mostly, but he knew how you liked it when it came to having his fingers inside you. And that was hard, fast and deep.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Go on,” he cooed in your ear, tongue licking at the shell, “make a mess all over my fingers, baby, want you to feel all kinds of good.”

You whimpered as your walls clenched around Steve’s fingers, a few more circles of your clit and you were a goner. Back arching off the bed you saw stars, nails digging into Steve’s scalp as you lost yourself all over Steve’s fingers. You cried his name like a banshee and Steve was totally in awe of you.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” he mused, slowing his fingers to work you through your climax, “there you go, honey.”

Steve was peppering kisses all over your face when you came back to reality, his fingers still inside you but not moving, keeping you full up for just a moment longer. Only when he brushed his lips against yours did he remove them, a whimper escaping your lips when he did so. One that Steve gladly ate up.

You curled your fingers through his soft tresses as he kissed you slowly, almost as if he was savouring every minute of this moment with you. He pulled away from you for only a second, a second to pull his fingers to his lips, the same fingers that were inside your pussy not moments again. You stepped in quickly though, before Steve could slip his fingers in his mouth, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and bringing them to your own lips. Your tongue swirled around his digits, tasting yourself on him. 

Steve groaned as he watched, eyes hooded and dark, bottom lip snug between his teeth. You released his fingers with a pop, a faint smirk tugging at your lips as you did. He pulled you up into his lap, not caring about any wet patches you may leave on his pants, wrapping his arms around your waist as he caressed your back.

“Oh, my wife’s such a little minx.” Steve teased, moving his hands down to your ass, large palms groping at the supple flesh. You could only giggle in response, the heat creeping up your cheeks as your fingers ran through the hair on Steve’s chest, moving down his stomach to where his belt buckle sat.

He helped you out, undoing the buckle and shoving the black material down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. Your hand reached further south, ghosting over his length over the boxers. Stroking and squeezing, ever so lightly. Steve let out a loud, deep, guttural groan in response.

“Fuck,” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter closed. Your fingers dipped beneath the elastic of the waistband, your nails raking through the neatly trimmed hair there, delving further until they could wrap around Steve’s thick cock. You felt his grip tighten, his fingers digging into your skin with every move, every stroke.

His boxers soon joined his pants and his shirt, scattered somewhere on the plush carpet of the Honeymoon Suite. You tried to crawl off of him, to get on your knees before him, tongue out ready and waiting but Steve had other ideas.

“Baby, no, I–” he stammered, holding you at your waist to keep you in place in his lap. Those big brown eyes bore into your own, warm and inviting as they always were.

“But, what about–” but Steve cut you off before you could finish. One of his large hands came to cup your cheek as he spoke, his voice quiet and soothing.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives for that,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. His other hand reached for his cock, holding it at the base as he slid it between your folds, teasing, smearing the wetness that was already there, “I jus’ need to feel you, honey, please?”

The desperation that laced his voice sent your head spinning. The butterflies erupted in your lower stomach at the thought, the fact he was eager to have you sink down on his cock, to fill you up really had you reeling.

So you nodded, bracing yourself on Steve’s shoulders as he guided his cock inside. You sank down on him to the hilt, taking all of him at once, an impressive feat to say the least. You both moaned out at the feeling, your walls wrapped around him, his cock throbbing deep inside you.

You took a minute to drink it in, the feeling of being full up, the pretty picture of Steve below you. His hair was perfectly messy, his cheeks a little rosy, his eyes a little hazy. His pretty pink lips were parted just slightly, his jaw slack as he held you close.

Slowly but surely, you started to roll your hips, back and forth, Steve’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your nails digging into his broad shoulders as you rode him, Steve’s face buried in the crook of your neck, wet, open mouthed kisses being left in his wake as he groaned lowly.

“God, fuck,” he whined, revelling at the feeling of your body pressed against his, your tits rubbing against his chest with every roll of your hips, “you feel so good, honey. So fuckin’ good.”

Your head rolled back in pleasure as you began to move faster now, grinding on Steve’s cock with vigour as you mewled at his words of praise. Steve sat back on his hands now, watching you make work of him and his cock. He was in awe of you, as he often was, the way your hips moved in a tantalising motion, the way your hands moved over his body before moving to your own. Fingers dancing over your skin, up your stomach and over your tits, squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.

Steve looked at you like you held the world in your hands, the moon and stars cascading through your fingertips. Every mole, freckle or blemish on your skin is a fine piece of art, the glint in your eyes a stroke of your character, the cute blush on your cheeks a cause to admire. He had never been so in love, drowning in his own happiness and pleasure simultaneously.

But as much as he was revelling in having you perched in his lap, cock sliding in and out of your pussy, there was always that underlying feeling that had Steve urging to take control. So he gripped your hips and flipped you on your back for the second time that night.

He gripped your thighs and spread them wide, his gaze falling to where you were connected. Where his thick cock was splitting you in two, stretching your pussy out wide. His length was slick with your juices, the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock. Steve slowed the pace, his hips moving at a deliciously slow pace.

“Oh, look at her, baby,” he cooed, his eyes flitting up to you through the hair that had fallen into his face, “she’s so wet, and it’s all for me? Fuck, pussy was just made for my cock, I just know it.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, arching your back and reaching out to clutch at any part of him your fingers could reach.

“I know, baby, I know,” he mused, leaning down to grab at your hands, threading his fingers through your own as he continued to roll his hips against your own, thrusting slow and deep, “I’ll take care of you, yeah? I’ll always take care of my girl.”

You wrapped your legs around him, your feet crossing at his tailbone as you pushed him closer to you. Steve let out this groan, one that was all pretty and deep, his eyes rolling back as he felt your walls clench around him. He squeezed your hands in his, his thrusts became more erratic, his rhythm slightly off the pace.

You could tell he was close, the way the tips of his ears bloomed red, the way the cute, pink flush crept up higher on his neck. Steve dropped your hands, opting instead to cup your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours as the other slithered between your bodies, his fingers soon finding your clit. He rubbed softly, a movement that matched the way his cock was fucking in and out of you, pulling a wailing moan from you.

“Oh, please,” you cried, your eyes squeezing shut, “please don’t stop, Steve, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey,” Steve chuckled, peppering kisses all over your face, “you want it, huh? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy, is that it? Been such a good girl f’me. God, I can’t believe I get you all to myself for the rest of my life.”

Your pussy fluttered around Steve’s cock at his words, the pressure building in your lower stomach as his fingers on your clit, his cock in your cunt became a little too overwhelming. “Want it so bad, Steve, baby, please. Oh, please fill me up.”

You pleaded with him and who was Steve to deny you? He groaned as you begged him and Steve only doubled down. Even though the speed he was fucking you was slow, it was enough to have you both ticking over the edge.

“Oh, fuck—,” he whined, “cum with me, honey, yeah?” His thumb stroked over your cheek as his eyes looked into yours deeply, fingers still rubbing at your clit. You felt the beginnings of your orgasm start to build, your skin tingled white hot as your legs began to shake.

Steve called out your name like a song, musings of praise falling from his lips over and over again. High-pitched whines mewled in your ear as Steve filled you up, his cock still fucking in and out of your spent hole, doing all he could to keep his cum deep inside you for as long as possible.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, his lips placing sloppy kisses to the skin there as you both mellowed from your high. Your chests heaved against one another as you caught your breath, your fingers still tangled in Steve’s hair. He pulled out of you with a whine, eyes catching a quick glimpse of his cum seeping from your pussy.

Steve leaned over you as he rolled over next to you, cradling your face in his palm as he brushed his nose against yours, the tip of his own running down the slope of yours, ending with a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“That was–”

“Amazing? Out of this world?” Steve cut you off with a smirk, “Best sex of your life? Just to name a few.”

“You’re an idiot.” You giggled, swatting at his shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve hummed, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “but you’re stuck with this idiot for the rest of your life.”

[miraclewoozi]

ELECTRIC. - y.jh

your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 

pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)

smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.

the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.

jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 

(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)

“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”

your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.

“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”

he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 

in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 

you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.

“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”

you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 

“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”

he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 

“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”

but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.

“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”

begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.

jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 

he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.

“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.

“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”

“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”

he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 

“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”

“jeonghan–”

“y/n.”

the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)

but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.

“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”

“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”

there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.

“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.

“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”

“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.

he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.

“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.

somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.

“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”

“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 

“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”

jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”

“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”

“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”

you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)

“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 

every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.

oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…

“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…

“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 

he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 

“please stay with me.”

if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 

“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 

“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”

“a what?”

“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.

“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”

“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”

he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 

“fine. you’re building it, though.”

you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.

“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.

“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”

a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.

you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.

and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?

there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.

but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 

with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.

you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.

a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.

“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.

“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.

you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–

“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”

“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”

“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”

“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 

…and heaven above, the penny drops. 

jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.

therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.

“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”

“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”

“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?

“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”

“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”

boom.

and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.

you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –

“okay, wait. hear me out.”

to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.

“i can help you.”

your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.

“you don’t have to–”

“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”

“hannie…”

“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”

if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.

“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”

he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.

you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.

“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 

“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 

“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”

you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 

“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”

“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.

now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.

of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.

“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.

but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?

“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”

“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”

you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”

“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.

you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.

“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.

“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”

well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.

“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 

“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”

“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 

he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.

“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”

“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 

and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.

“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”

to his credit, he does.

and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.

the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.

within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)

every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 

sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.

“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”

“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”

“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.

by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.

“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 

“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”

you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.

“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 

what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.

“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 

“yes to what?” 

“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.

you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 

saved for really important promises.

“to next time.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3

[brickmvster]

new look [leon kennedy x gn!reader]

(fanart in the middle from tanya.gavva on instagram)

synopsis: leon kennedy grows out his hair for the first time in a long time... and you cherish every moment of it.

word count: 1,190

tags: long haired re4r leon, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff and cute domestic stuff, slice of life, short and sweet

author's note: ya'll know those long hair leon kennedy mods. yeah. yeah those. thank the modders for inspiring me to write this. 😭😭😭 (seriously he is so beautiful with long hair i am Crying)

as per usual, this was posted at a time when i should be sleeping lol. this has been proofread but some grammatical errors may have still slipped by me. apologies in advance, any and all mistakes are mine!

please enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated.

(this has been crossposted on ao3)

Sometimes, Leon goes quite some time without hearing from the government. On the rare occasion he gets extended breaks, he gets a little lazy when it comes to keeping his hair short. Short hair stays out of Leon's face, and prevents any evil residents from grabbing it when he's on missions, but when he doesn't have any hostile enemies to fight and he spends most of his time with you, he likes to let it grow just a little bit – after all, it's nice to save some money on haircuts and it gets some pretty entertaining reactions out of you.

When you first noticed Leon's longer hair, you didn't comment on it; you assumed that he'd cut it fairly quickly. But several days had passed, and his hair only grew longer, much to your surprise (and delight). You brought it up to him one night while he was helping you cook dinner, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"Are you growing out your hair?" You had asked him. Leon looked away, almost in a shy manner that you found absolutely adorable.

"Yeah… I know it's unusual of me to keep it this long but it's been a while since my last mission and I haven't really felt like going to the barbershop, so…" he trailed off, running his fingers through the locks in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

There was a bit of silence before Leon spoke again. "Do you like it?" He asked you, to which you could only chuckle in response, walking over to him and running your own fingers through the strands before letting your arms rest on his shoulders, playing with the hairs on his nape.

"Leon Kennedy. Is that even a question?" You replied incredulously. Leon just smiled, chuckling softly as he placed his large hands on your waist. The two of you leaned in and shared a sweet kiss, momentarily forgetting about dinner altogether.

Leon eventually pulled away first, but his face remained close enough to yours that you could still feel his breath on your lips. Your fingers were still playing with his hair tenderly as your eyes admired the gorgeous sight directly in front of you.

Leon had always been handsome – that was just a known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Leon Kennedy is attractive as all hell. But with the way his long hair was framing his face, you were falling in love all over again.

"Somehow you've gotten even more beautiful. I didn't even think that was possible." You teased, tucking some hair behind his ear.

"You're really loving this, aren't you?" Leon playfully asked, grinning warmly at you.

"To say that I'm loving this is a massive understatement – I am obsessed." you said with a smirk, saying the words against Leon's lips before pressing yours against his once more, this kiss a bit more passionate than the first one and making you feel light-headed in the best way possible, butterflies viciously attacking your stomach as Leon still somehow managed to sweep you off your feet years into the relationship.

Leon tried to pull away again after several minutes of lazily making out in the middle of the kitchen, but every time he tried you would chase his lips, never keeping your mouths separated for longer than a second.

"Baby," Leon whispered against your lips, and eventually you leaned back, but not without great reluctance.

Leon just kissed your cheek. "We should probably get back to preparing dinner, yeah?" He asked. With a pout, you nodded.

"Right." You said, remembering the poor vegetables that still needed cutting.

Before you turned your attention back on cutting vegetables though, you stepped back and took in Leon's now messy hair after your fingers had run through the strands a million times, giggling to yourself quietly. It looked like a cute little bird's nest.

"God, I am going to be all over you." You muttered under your breath. But your boyfriend's trained government agent ears picked up on your words.

"Aren't you always all over me already?" He replied, teasingly.

You added the chopped vegetables into a boiling pot as you responded. "Well, yes. But even more now. Watch out." You threw a wink his way, and Leon just rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight the fond smile from taking over his lips.

Eventually, the two of you got back into the tranquility of cooking, moving around each other almost as if dancing in harmony, a comfortable quietness filling the kitchen. At some point, though, when the food was simmering and you began cleaning up the kitchen, Leon had left for a moment. You didn't think anything of it, assuming he just needed to be off of his feet for a bit.

But then he came back, his silky blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, some of the more disobedient strands framing his face in the most endearing way. You were wiping the counter when you suddenly froze, your face feeling as warm as the pot of stew on the stove as you shamelessly ogled at your boyfriend's good looks.

Leon sensed your staring, quickly meeting your gaze. "Something on your mind?" He asked playfully.

You wanted to throw your wash cloth at his ridiculously charming face. "Leon. You look so adorable right now. I'm going to explode."

Leon chuckled. "Please, don't. The counter will get dirty again."

You walked over to him, hitting him gently with the washcloth still in your hand before surprising him with a chaste kiss against his lips.

Eventually, dinner was served, and after the two of you ate, it was about time for bed. You both did your usual nightly routines before jumping into your shared bed, holding each other close. Leon was usually the big spoon, as per your request on most nights, but you weren't passing up the opportunity to hold his head close to your chest and to run your fingers through his soft strands.

Leon hummed contentedly, and it was so quiet you almost didn't catch it; but you did, and the sound instantly brought a smile to your face.

"That feels nice, sweetheart." He said lazily, as he was very obviously trying to fight sleep.

This man will be the death of me, you thought.

"It does?" You asked. Leon nodded.

"Mhmm." Was all he replied with, melting into your touch once more.

Some silence passed, the two of you on the very edge of being pulled into the embrace of a deep slumber, but not for long as you expressed one more thought that had entered your mind.

"You know, with your hair this length, I got some style ideas…"

"Oh yeah?" Leon replied groggily.

"Yeah. I have to see you in pigtails."

Leon's half open eyes were now fully open at your comment. A sharp laugh escaped you immediately.

"Leon, please. Do it for me?"

He shook his head, laughing along with you. But the next morning, he let you put his hair into two cute pigtails with a couple of your hairties. And of course, you took photos.

[babiebom]

Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.

Thank u sm!!

A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!

Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!

Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian:

Just frowns

Actually helps unexpectedly

….we can never talk about this happening again if you want……

It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.

“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.

You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”

You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”

“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”

You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.

“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”

“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.

“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”

You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.

Sam:

WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?

it’s like from a movie or something

Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool

“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.

“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.

“And you’re cute!”

“What?”

You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.

When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.

You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.

Shane:

Would just stare silently

Like no comments no nothing

Doesn’t even act like it’s happening

Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.

“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.

He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.

Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.

“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”

Alex:

Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING

Doesn’t help

Just watched and comments

“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.

You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.

Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.

“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!

But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.

Elliott:

Panics

How do I help PLS LET ME HELP

Everything probably gets messy

Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.

The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.

You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.

Harvey:

Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)

Has a doctory approach to it

But is secretly like WTF inside

Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.

When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.

He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”

Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…

“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!

Penny:

Probably panics

Doesn’t know how to deal with it

Would try to help though

The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.

“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.

You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”

She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.

The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.

Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.

You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”

Haley:

confused staring

wtf is happening

Actually speechless

It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.

“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”

“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”

“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”

You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.

She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.

Emily:

Surprisingly chill about it

Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something

Actually helps

You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.

“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”

“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”

She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.

You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.

“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”

You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.

Abigail:

WOAH

WTF

WHAT DO WE DO?

You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.

“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?

He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”

“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”

The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.

“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”

It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?

Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.

Maru:

Is surprised

Also forgets what to do

Would probably make things worse

Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.

Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.

“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.

“Dad stop!”

Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.

“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.

Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.

Leah:

Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside

Helps you with tissues

Is understanding

Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.

You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.

Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.

You kinda block out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.

“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.

Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.

At least the situation would be funny in the future.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Your Fault

Your Fault

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, only to be comforted by Daryl. Takes place in Alexandria. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me).

Tropes: Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Established Relationship

Warnings: I mean, I don't think there's any. If anything I'll say references to past smut, but not explicit at all. Mentions of vomiting.

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: This is written in a dialect style with Daryl's accent in mind so the misspellings are intentional. There is minimal use of (y/n).  Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you". I tried to proofread the best I could, but nobody's perfect. If you don't like, don't read, but if you do like you're my favorite!

Internal monologue is done in italics.

ENJOY!

******************************************

Daryl's hand is soft, tangling into the strands of your hair to pull it back from your face as you unleash the remnants of your dinner into the toilet with a loud groan. The brightly colored tile on the bathroom wall mocks you, each swirl of color illuminated by the fluorescent light above that hurts your sensitive eyes.

Who picks bright pink for bathroom tile?

You think with a groan as your stomach heaves again.

Daryl’s right hand rubs soothing circles into your back  to let you know he's there.

“It’s alrigh. Jus get it all ou.” He mutters.

You had practically run him over when you ran to the bathroom, waving your arms to make him go away, not wanting to see you like this, but Daryl had ignored your half hearted attempts to push him away.

And even though you hadn’t wanted him to see you like this, it was easier. Daryl made everything easy, effortless, and most importantly made you feel loved, more loved than you had felt before all of this.

Your forehead presses against the cool lip of the toilet as you wipe the remnants of dinner off your chin and let out a shaky breath.

"Here." Daryl gently pulls you back from your position to wipe at your chin with a towel.

"Hmm." You lean into his touch with a sigh.

"Ya alrigh?"

"Ughh."

“Come on.” He pulls you against his chest, sitting back so his back is against the bathtub, folding his knees in front of him and dwarfing the already small bathroom.

Daryl looks almost exactly the same as he did when you first met and every time you look at him, you feel the exact same. Butterflies flapping against the walls of your stomach, heart surging up into your throat while pins and needles trace his well placed rough fingertips against your arm. Every touch feels like the first, every kiss sets you on fire, and you wouldn't change a second of it. Sometimes you think just how lucky you are that all this happened, because you can’t imagine your life without him. Admittedly a little selfish, but  then you think of what your life would have been if none of this had happened.

Maybe you would still be in Atlanta finishing up your residency, still live in that apartment downtown, still have the same shifts, eat at the same restaurants- but then where would Daryl be?

Where else would you meet someone who got you so simply, who understood what you were thinking just with a quick glance. Who else would make you feel like you’d swallowed the sun when you found them looking at you?

And who else would you love as utterly and completely as you love him?

"This is your fault." You lean your head against his shoulder, stretching out your legs to knock your thigh against Daryl’s knee.

He was  taller than you, broader and stronger in all the best ways. It was what drew you to him, well that and you thought that it was cute how shy he was, how he'd stumble a bit through his words when you first started talking and how the tips of his ears would flush pink when you smiled at him.

"My fault?" You can hear the smile in his voice. Daryl shifts his arm up over your shoulder to pull you closer into his chest, brushing his hand up and down your arm, letting you settle into him.

"Yes. It's your fault I'm pregnant." Your right hand runs over your stomach that has begun to protrude more in the past few months, a whirlwind to be sure, but a welcome one. The initial 30 days had been 30 days of agony while you tried to think of a way to tell Daryl that he was going to be a father. When you first started dating he had been hesitant to tell you about the raised pink scars on his back and chest- the ones you had seen when patching up a bullet wound that he had taken for you.

And when he finally told you what his father did to him, you couldn't help but fold him into you and hold him close.

The pregnancy wasn't a surprise to you, you'd been living together since you'd arrived at Alexandria and this was a happy accident. But nevertheless when you told Daryl he had left without so much as a word taking your heart with him. You had stayed in bed for what seemed like days, only to have him arrive 4 hours later with a bouquet of wildflowers and prenatal vitamins, where he found them you didn't know, all that mattered was that he was back and he was happy. Happier than you'd ever seen him.

Since then Daryl had been at your side almost constantly, the occasional run had intervened, when Rick himself had to  drag Daryl away, but on each run Daryl always brought something back for you. Whether it be another book you could read together, one of the last candy bars to ever exist, or a knitted blanket to cover your shoulders when you dragged yourself into the bathroom at what seemed all hours of the day- like the exact one you had draped around yourself now. And when he wasn't on runs he was helping you with the small nursery, where a hand carved crib stood as another sign of Daryl’s love, the exact crib that made you burst into tears when he and Rick brought it into the house for the first time.

"Pretty sure we were both there." He rumbles with a smile.

"Logistics don't matter." Your eyes narrow.

"Pretty sure they do. Ya're the doc after all." Daryl's smirk makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, the same smirk that got you into this mess in the first place. "I also remember that ya were wearin my shirt-"

"Typical man blaming the woman for what she's wearing. I thought you were better than that."

His smirk grows. "More like what ya weren't wearin."

"My clothes were wet from the storm, I was trying to change-"

"Inta' my shirt!"

You lean away from him, feigning anger. "Oh you think you're so innocent? You came into the house soaked to the bone and no one should look as good as you do soaking wet." You accuse.

"Maybe you should have shut your eyes then." He shrugs.

"Shut up." Your hands fall against his chest, playfully pushing him away, but he grabs your wrists.

"Make me."

"Don't look at me like that." You groan shifting away from him. "That's what got us into this mess in the first place-" Your eyes search his face for a minute, taking in the familiar blue eyes and scruff that scratches against the smooth skin of your fingertips. "But at least we know it's a girl. No more Daryl Jr."

"We ain't gonna call 'im tha. And how do ya know it's a girl?"

"They say that  if it's a girl you get sick more often.”

He snorts, pulling you back into his chest. "The way ya are going we might be havin' two."

"Shut up. Don't joke about that. One's enough, and this one is taking it's sweet time."

"Maybe jus' likes it in there."

You groan into his solid chest, feeling his muscles tense around you, familiar and welcome.  "Everyone always talks about what a blessing it is to be pregnant, how you glow, blah blah blah. It's all propaganda! I feel like I'm smoldering. I'm fat, my feet hurt, I'm sick all the time-"

"Ya ain' fat y/n."

"Don't lie to me." You sit up to look him in the eye. "You made a promise to not lie to me."

"I ain' lying." He breathes.

You search his gaze, nostrils flaring as if you think you can smell the lie, but all you smell is Daryl. The hypnotic scent of cigarettes (that he refused to smoke around you), sweat,  the heady smell of the woods and the smell of a thunderstorm before it hits, that  clean smell of rain  as it dribbles through the branches above before falling onto your skin.

"Ya're even more beautiful than the firs' day I met ya." Daryl's touch is feather light against your cheek, drawing you closer so he can press his forehead against yours. "Pretty sure ya get more beautiful every day. And if this is a girl-" His free hand drags across your belly, smiling as the baby kicks against his fingers. "She's gonna be beautiful jus' like ya."

You feel the blush drift up into the roots of your hair remembering the day you met. “That was a crazy day-“

“Because ya shot me.”

“It only skimmed your hair, don’t be a baby. And I thought you were a walker.”

“Las' time I checked my hair is on top of my head.”

“You were fine.” Your palms gently fall against the scruff of his cheeks. “I’m really glad I missed.”

“Me too."

******************************************

Thank you so much for reading!!

If you liked this fic, be sure to read the prequel “Meet Cute,” that shows the story of how Daryl and the Reader met!

[tired-biscuit]

Can u write about reader sucking off Hokage Naruto from under his desk, while he does paperwork, and maybe even have someone come in and he has to pretend like nothings going on? 😩😩😩 You would have my full gratitude if you do😻

18+ fem!reader // cw: oral (m!receiving), spit, risk of being caught. hokage!naruto, established relationship.

it’s just so audible, the way you suck him off with profound vigour.

incredibly restless and just as needy because of the sudden spike that appears in your hormone levels whenever you ovulate, you’re all enthusiasm and immoral determination when you find yourself kneeling under the desk in the hokage’s office, attempting to take nearly the entirety of your husband’s cock down your throat.

drool seeps from both corners of your pretty mouth that’s now being stretched into a perfect ‘o’ — it causes him to stare at you in a way that makes him look dumb. his eyes are a stormy sea, a vast sky that’s turned blurry across the surface because of the film of lust that only you, his wonderful wife, can provoke into stirring within him.

the sloppiness of your doings is loud, it’s obvious and lewd. you’re practically slurping whilst trying to swallow all the saliva and pre-cum that keeps dribbling past your puffy lips, creating a sticky mess at the base of him. are gargling whenever he bucks his hips upward from the one and only legendary hokage chair that he’s worked his ass off to be able to sit on, and hits the back of your throat with his overstimulated cockhead as a result. are gasping and quietly moaning, even if your mouth is stuffed full of cock and the sound comes out sort of muffled because of it.

naruto’s black pants are tight across his knees from the way he keeps tensing and straining his muscles, obviously trying so hard to keep his cool but failing tremendously so. even his toned stomach clenches when you push up the hem of his simple white t-shirt so that you can rest your eyes on his golden happy trail. poor man.

you’re kneeling between his strong legs, with your ass up and your face buried at the place where his undone button and zipper reside. the tuft of trimmed blonde hairs briefly tickles the tip of your nose whenever you feel like acting like a champ and try to take him an inch or two deeper than what you can usually endure.

it makes you choke, just like it normally does. you expect it to happen, but your eyes still water and saliva spurts as you immediately fight to repress a gag at the intrusion. and yet, even amidst all the chaos, you don’t fail to catch how his breath hitches in response to it.

he’s in awe. the way you force yourself to relax and stick your tongue out, licking the underside of his dick whilst attempting to give him more space so that he can push further through the tight barrier of your throat, has his heart racing to the brink of bursting.

he’s harder than he was before; his dick hot both in your mouth and hand from the new rush of blood to travel south. you take it as a compliment even if it doesn’t make the job any easier for you.

no, instead, it takes noticeably longer to deepthroat him than what you’d expected at first. his cock simply refuses to bend along the shape of your throat, pressing stubbornly upwards and a little to the left, but luckily for you, you still manage to do it for the tiniest bit with your combined efforts.

what a good girl you are.

“fu—… fuck me, woman,” naruto heaves, stammers at the new sensation and the even more intense tightness that you offer, now. listening as your beloved hokage’s voice turns almost high in pitch, you feel a soft glow appear in your chest at the way it slightly cracks in the middle of the short sentence. “you’re gonna a-ah— you’re gonna kill me like this.”

placing the flat of your palms on his thighs, you offer your dominant hand a short break whilst you work to please him only with your mouth this time. seconds pass, and the ache that you feel in your fingers and wrist from all the stroking you’d done earlier at long last begins to cease in the same way his initial reluctance about the entire situation you’re currently indulging in does.

about damn time.

you glance up just in time to see how he clenches his jaw, teeth gritting whilst he watches a fat glob of warm drool slide down the side of his cock and dampen the waistband of his underwear that you’ve tugged down just enough to expose him to your greedy mouth.

his fingers tangle in your hair on instinct as he rests his hand on the back of your head and tugs at the roots so that he can see your face better.

you’re just so wonderfully disheveled — gleaming with tears, sweat and saliva, and your mascara is smudged by how runny it’s gotten. it paints thin lines down your cheeks; messy, almost slutty remnants of the pathways your tears have left behind.

he thinks you’re beautiful.

“am gonna,” you croak as you let him pull you back for air, the thick string of saliva still keeping you attached to him, gleaming in the soft yellow-ish light coming from the nearby desk lamp. the eye contact that you initiate nearly makes both of you visibly shudder from how intense it is.

there’s gasoline floating on the surface of his ocean eyes. it blazes like a wildfire.

“gonna fuck you, i mean,” you finish, still staring at all those flames that make you burn, burn, burn. “gonna fuck you so good, naru.”

his cock throbs when you say that. your clit does, too.

it’s a good thing you’re wearing nothing underneath your skirt, because the pressure the heels of your feet provide when you sit on your legs is godly. it causes your hips to wiggle and he catches it; it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows thickly.

he blinks before he bites the inside of his cheek and blushes. “here? you’re gonna sit on my dick in my office?”

“yeah,” you reply in a heartbeat, chest rising and falling with every sacred breath. “where else? you’re barely home, always holed up in this damned place… i just thought that you could use a break… that both of us could use it.”

“well, how very generous of ya,” he teases. a brief moment of silence passes as you stare at each other. his gaze is tender and genuinely appreciative despite the endless fire. yours is full of longing.

“lemme show you how generous i really am,” you mumble with an eye roll as you reach up and try to pull yourself onto his lap.

surprisingly, he stops you.

“sweetheart,” he utters gently, shaking his head when you quirk a brow. “as much as i’d love for you to do that, and believe me when i say that i want it so, so bad… you know that we can’t.”

a frown tugs at your lips. you inquire, “why?”

“i mean, isn’t it obvious? this entire place is literally riddled with people who do spywork for a living and who consequently work for me,” he says, gesturing across the office. “to be completely honest, i’d be surprised if we weren’t already caught in the act and they’re just playing dumb for my sake.”

you watch as he glances around the room, as if expecting to catch something, or rather someone, hiding in the goddamn walls. a sudden tension lands on your shoulders, weighing them heavily. it feels like you’re being watched, but perhaps it’s just placebo.

it forces you to gather some mindless courage in order to make yourself feel better.

“that just means that it doesn’t matter if we go all the way,” you persist cautiously. the heat that you feel in your belly, as well as between your legs compels you to act a bit foolish. “i mean, why not give the poor suckers a show if they’re so set on watching their hokage bust a nut, mm?”

“hah!” he snickers at your comment and looks at you with pure adoration before he leans in. you preen at the closeness, at how his summery scent fills your nostrils immediately; melting you into submission.

his exhale is warm and it tickles your lips as he whispers, “did you really think i’d let them see how adorable my wife looks when i stuff her full with my cock?”

the small spark of possessiveness that he exhibits for a fraction of a second from underneath that responsible lord seventh persona lights a fire of your own within your veins. it makes your blood boil.

he’s still the same old naruto that he always was. pervy, jealous, and immensely protective of his possessions and partner because of the fear of losing them always being there. there’s no way in hell he’s letting you take your clothes off when someone other than him might be watching.

it makes you sigh as you attempt to make him reconsider, “but i—”

“i know; trust me, i know. but i gotta work.” you don’t miss the grin that follows soon after he cups your cheek with his hand and strokes your bottom lip with a calloused thumb, coaxing you to suck on it. it’s lazy and crooked; awfully fox-like but just as charming, the smile. goodness, he’s grown into such a fine man.

and he almost wins you over with it.

almost.

“stop that, naru! i’m serious,” you chide, narrowing your eyes even if it pushes more blowjob-induced tears forward and you don’t really mean the glare.

“as am i,” he says with a wink.

“no, you—… ugh.” you pause to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation. it’s rare that he outsmarts you, but sometimes when he does manage to do it, it’s outright infuriating. “think about it this way: you can’t really feel guilty about missing out on work, when you’re technically still, well… at work. isn’t that right?”

“actually, working and being merely present in the office are two entirely different things.” he chuckles, his laugh a soft rasp that causes warmth to brush over your very heart. he holds you by the chin and pulls you closer as he adds, “listen… how about i make it up to you by whipping up a shadow clone, and then you can—”

“naruto.”

your tone turns strict as you say his full name and push up to your knees to press your hands onto his chest and your tits against his thighs. the top you’ve chosen is tight and pretty skimpy, but you comfort yourself on the fact that it’s passable just because it’s summer and the weather is hot.

even if you’d only worn it because you know what it does to him.

“i don’t want a shadow clone,” you say, suddenly completely serious. “i want you.”

he smiles, clearly flustered. “what’re you— oh.”

when you dip back down to drag your wet tongue along the side of his cock again, he grunts at the sensation, losing his words. tightens his grip that he still holds on the side of your head, while the bandages on his other hand rustle against the chair’s armrest.

you nearly start to purr by the time he subconsciously pushes you down lower so that you’d give him more, more, more. so you gift him a couple of kitten licks. a couple of messy kisses that cause his dick to twitch against your lips in response.

it’s been a while since you’ve spoiled him like this and it’s hard not to smile because of how responsive he gets to the merest hint of cock worship. you’re sweet as summer honey as you coo, “you sure you’re not gonna let me fuck myself on your cock?”

“don’t—” he flinches as he watches you pet your cheek against his dick. the things you do to him.

you look up, a perfect image of innocence despite the dirty things that you keep saying, “…‘cause i’m not wearing any panties, you know.”

“hah.” he sounds so breathless, the poor sucker. “is that so?”

“mhmm,” you nod vehemently; rubbing, rubbing, rubbing. “and oh, i’m just so wet for you, lord seventh… i’m practically dripping.”

his pupils dilate at your words, they make his blue eyes appear darker than they actually are. he’s become so sweaty and red in the face during your ministrations, as red as the tip of his fat cock that just yearns to spill the load of cum so badly right now.

you can’t help but fall in love with him for a millionth time all over again as you bat your eyelashes and blink through the last of your tears just so you can see him better.

his hair is short but it’s still damp at the temples because of the salt that lingers on his skin. you watch with hearts in your eyes as he scrubs his bandaged hand across his face, rubbing his jawline with visible exasperation.

he’s clearly lost the battle that he’s just fought and mulled over a rather concerning amount of times in the span of a couple of seconds. at long last admitting defeat, he mutters, “fine. but we really gotta be careful—”

knock, knock!

“excuse me, lord seventh? it’s mina,” a female voice sounds out. “i’ve come to discuss and go over the bulletpoints of the meeting from yesterday, just like we’ve agreed on.”

he tenses at the unexpected intrusion, eyes opening wide and startled breath catching in the back of his throat. you can see him literally slipping through your fingers as he rushes to make himself presentable as quickly as he’s able.

when you slap his hands away the moment he reaches down to tug his underwear back up and pull up the zipper, he stares at you completely baffled.

“are you serious right now?!” he whisper-shouts, his eyebrows knitting together in evident frustration as he tries to repeat the movement and you do the exact same thing as well. “you can’t j-just… oh, god... baby…”

it’s hard to not voice the groan that bubbles up his throat when your soft mouth wraps around him once more. you’re sucking him as intensely as ever yet again, twirling your tongue over the sensitive head and keeping him hard and blushing; not just over his cheeks, but down his neck, too.

persistent.

“there’s someone at the… at the fuckin’ door, sweetheart,” he tries feebly even if he’s already bucking his hips upward again and is literally sucking his breaths in through gritted teeth. “she might catch us.”

all you do is take him deeper as an answer. stroke him with your hands. love him.

naruto sighs. he closes his eyes and attempts to gather himself by taking a deep breath. he ignores — or at least tries to ignore — the way his toes curl in his shoes when the tip of your tongue drags across the sensitive slit, tasting the pearly bead of pre-cum that just keeps on oozing out again.

his face is red and sweaty, yes. and despite the flutter of a muscle that keeps ticking in his jaw every time your throat tightens around his girth, he still somehow manages to gather his wits just for long enough to gently stroke your hair and call out,

“uh… come in.”

[niki-phoria]

사랑 이상의 more / you are my paranormal love

pairing: cha hyunsu x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 972

notes: very brief mention of self harm/scars but you really have to look for it, set in s1 bc i'm rewatching the series lol, bringing this gif back bc it's his best look sue me, this is barely proofread pls forgive any mistakes !! title from enhypen - paranormal

dusk is joined by a soft gleam of sunlight streaming in through barred windows. the light does little to illuminate the room. large shadows creep along the walls all around you, though monsters are no longer hidden within their darkness.

the storage room is stuffy; it’s filled to the brim with miscellaneous cleaning supplies and stacks of abandoned file cabinets line the back wall. above you, the building creaks beneath the weight of its residents’ movements, emitting quiet groans of disapproval. the walls do little to block out any noise, allowing occasional thumps and scrapes of the monsters lurking throughout to fill the otherwise quiet room.

CHA HYUNSU looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. like the universe only exists within the palm of your hand. like he’s never seen something so beautiful that it’s impossible to look away from.  

“are you alright?” hyunsu asks quietly. your shoulders just barely brush against each other as he steps onto the plastic crates you’ve arranged into a makeshift seat to sit beside you. pulling his knees up to his chest, he leans his back against the thick concrete pillar in the center of the room. 

“yeah,” you sigh. hyunsu’s heart skips a beat in his chest when you shift closer, leaning your shoulder against his own - gentle, but impossible to miss. “i’m just a little cold.” 

hyunsu hums. with limited power in the building and an apocalypse on the horizon, the air conditioning and heat had been regulated only to be used during emergencies. the nights were freezing, leaving you only with the clothes on your back to keep you warm.

“here,” hyunsu fidgets with the zipper of his jacket as he clumsily slips it off, gingerly wrapping it around your shoulders. it hangs loosely around your frame, threatening to fall off of your shoulders with any harsh movements. 

his fingers nervously curl into his palms, anxiously awaiting your reaction. his nails leave crescent marks indented into his skin. he has to make a conscious effort to relax enough not to break skin.

“thank you,” you smile brightly. tension rolls off of his shoulders in waves with your acceptance. hyunsu’s jacket smells like off-brand laundry detergent when you slip your arms into the sleeves. you can just barely make out the bloodstains on the dark fabric, though you don’t mention them. 

“yeah,” hyunsu takes a shaky breath. the cool night air stings against his now-exposed forearms but it’s nothing he can’t handle. he presses the inside of his left arm closer to his side, turning to face you with a soft smile. “of course.” 

hues of dark purple and blue paint the sky above. the usual hum of crickets has been silenced; it’s replaced instead by the screeches and groans of monsters slinking around nearby. hyunsu stiffens when you shuffle slightly closer to him, just enough to lean your head against his shoulder. 

he can feel each steady thump of his heart beating in his chest. butterflies swarm throughout his stomach, angrily making their presence known. “hyunsu.” his name drips with sweetness like honey when it leaves your lips. 

you reach over, slowly taking his hand into your own. hyunsu remains perfectly still, allowing you to intertwine your hand with his own. your fingertips trace along the grooves of his knuckles, scraping against a stray blood stain he had forgotten to clean. if he didn’t know any better, he would run from the contact. 

“yeah?” he answers. hyunsu’s worries slip away when you give his hand a reassuring squeeze; the pressure is just barely enough to be felt. 

you’re looking at him now, studying his sharp features. somehow, hyunsu feels safe beneath your gaze. “can i kiss you?” you whisper. 

hyunsu’s breath catches in his throat. he blinks once. twice. he waits, long enough for you to take it back, apologies spilling from your lips and your hand leaving his own. 

but you don’t. 

he nods shakily, still almost in disbelief. his eyes flutter closed when you lean in. hyunsu’s lips are chapped when they meet yours. you’ll have to remind him to ask for another bottle of water in the morning. his fingertips trace against the edge of your jaw, hesitantly cradling your face in his shaky hands. each movement is slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid of making the wrong move and scaring you off entirely. 

time seems to freeze around you. for just a few moments, the world fades away. there are no more bullies to face on the way to class. there are no monsters lingering in the dark. there are no people and their judgemental glares and invasive questions and .

for just a few moments, all that exists is you. your arms snaking around his shoulders. your hand carefully threading through stray strands of hyunsu’s overgrown hair. your lips pressed against his.

he doesn’t dare to pull away until you do. heat floods into his cheeks, spreading across his face and tinting his ears a deep pink. hyunsu’s wide eyes shine even in the darkness as he silently studies your features for any hint of discomfort. “was that okay?” 

you smile softly, reaching up to gingerly rest cup his face in your hand. hyunsu’s face feels hot when your thumb caresses his cheek. “it was perfect.” 

shivers race down hyunsu’s spine when your fingertips trace against the faint acne scars that decorate his face like constellations. he quietly sighs, leaning into your touch and letting you continue your ministrations without complaint. “thank you,” you murmur. 

hyunsu’s eyebrows furrow slightly. he shifts just enough to look down at you in confusion. “for what?”

you tug the sleeves of hyunsu’s jacket up over your hands, toying with the fabric between your fingers. leaning upwards slightly, you press a feather-light kiss against his flushed cheek. “for everything.” 

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[etheries1015]

Wishing you a happy birthday!

Featuring: General Lilia

General warnings: Gender Neutral reader

TW: None!

Being an orphan and of an unknown background, Lilia never really cared to know the true date of his birth. He didn't care to celebrate birthdays, simply for the fact that it becomes mundane and repetitive once you've lived long enough. He had a brief understanding that humans worked in an entirely different mindset, they treasured their short lives and often held grand celebrations to signify one year closer to their inevitable demise.

So the moment you had brought up the fact your birthday was that day, and you hadn't told him sooner, he seemingly brushed it off as if he hadn't cared for the notion. Little did you know, he was at an internal war with the values he thought he once had.

"I see." Lilia responded seemingly coldly, "And what age does that make you now?"

"(age)," You responded with a slight smile at his interest and widened eyes, "I know, compared to you i'm a baby, huh? I could be in my eighties and you'd still laugh at my 'lack of life experience.'" The general bit down his bottom lip and nodded, holding back commentary by grabbing his mask and heading towards the door of the cottage that you resided in. You noticed this uncomfortable shift in his demeanor, sighing slightly and retreating your playful banter.

"Off so soon..?" You asked with sadness in your voice, "I was hoping-"

"Don't," Lilia cut you off, "You are lucky I'm allowing you to stay here at all, human. Stay hidden, and remember that I..." He paused, seeing the sadness twinkle in your eyes tugged at his heart in ways he never thought he would feel. He hated the way you did that to him, he hated the feeling of butterflies with sharp wings fluttering in his stomach at those eyes, he hated the deep imbedded foreboding of betrayal for his people simply by sheltering you under his care.

Yet he also couldn't help but continue to test the waters and had found himself rather attached the past few months you resided with him.

"...I will return later," Lilia briskly murmured before closing the door, leaving you sighing helplessly at the kitchen table. It wasn't infrequent for the fae to act like this, you understood he had a major conflict of interest, and you couldn't blame his brash attitude. Yet there were days in which you wondered to yourself, when would he finally break out of that cold façade he placed?

The day quickly turned into night as you spent your day inside tending to your normal everyday hobbies. The clock ticked on and you could see stars begin to rise, with no sign of Lilia. This was not an uncommon occurrence, of course, he had spent days outside of the cottage fighting in a war you knew you should be siding with. None of that had truly mattered, though...you come to terms that Fae had souls just as sensitive and kind to the things around them as much as any human, the only difference was lifespan. With these thoughts in mind, laying in bed and wishing yourself a happy birthday you fell asleep.

Slumber did not last long for it seemed only a few minutes passed before you were awoken by strong hands that gently shook your shoulders. Your tired eyes blinked open to find a familiar figure looming over you, black hair with streaks of red surrounding you, much to your sleepy surprise. Once realizing you were awake, Lilia stood up and tugged your arm gently.

"Human, get up, I have something to show you," The general appearance was what you'd expect of someone fighting for their life, mud-streaked cheeks and disheveled hair, although Lilia always seemed to clean himself up before greeting you. Not this night, apparently. You rushed out of bed due to his urgent request, falling over one foot after the other to put on shoes and finding something quick to be decent in. This process seemed to annoy the man, for he sighed before grabbing one of his own jackets and draping it over your shoulders. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile crawling onto your lips

"What's this?" You asked, "Taking me out all of the sudden, giving me your jacket to stay warm...what do you have planned, hmm?" Lilia raised his eyebrows in shock at your brazen response, a flustered shade of pink bursting upon his cheeks before turning his face away and complaining how long you were taking with your "drivel" and rushing out the door knowing you would be quick to follow. Laughing to yourself at how easy he could be to read, you made your way outside of the cottage. Lilia was leading you somewhere deep within the woods, while the greenery was all nice- you found yourself staring at him instead. The way he held onto your hand and led you through the forest with great understanding and no hesitance, how handsome he looked staring forward with such a serious face, and the way his hair flowed behind him with every confident stride left your heart melting at the sight.

"You're distracting," He suddenly said interrupting the silence, "Staring at me like that. Keep your guard up while we are outside," Although sounding cold per usual, your heart was warmed at the notion he cared to warn you out of worry for your well-being, for the forest in the Valley was not the safest place for a human such as yourself. Though, Lilias warm hand in yours reminded you just how far you've come, enough to trust him with your very life. You bit your tongue back from teasing him, for you weren't about to ruin what rare opportunity of affection he seems to be suddenly giving you.

The sound of feet against the leaves of the forest floor came to a halt, walking up the endless hill finally ceasing as he pulled you through the final stretch of trees to reveal a sight more beautiful than you could have imagined. Overhead you see a sea of forestry, with lights of soldier campfires scattered among them. You could see the castle, thinking to yourself if this is how Its beauty from afar enamoures you, you believed that seeing it up close must truly be a sight to behold. Lilia hid his smile, watching you with satisfaction at your reaction for something he has seen a hundred, no, thousands of times before. Yet something about seeing you there, staring out in the distance with such overwhelming love and fascination, he knew it was the first time he'd ever felt such complicated and confusing emotions. When you turned around to thank him, he held out a small box for you to open.

"What...what's this?" You asked, holding out your hands as he gently placed it on top of your palms. He bit his bottom lip, something you noticed he would often do when embarrassed, before turning his head away to look over the view ahead.

"Humans have very short life spans," Lilia started, "As a fae, outliving humans is simply...biology." Lilia took a seat, allowing his legs to dangle above the cliff, "Birthdays are not as important to us as they are to humans. But..." There was no mistaking the bright blush now dusted upon his cheeks, so vibrant you could see its glow even in the dark of the night where the stars and moon lit up you two.

"But I can't help but feel compelled to celebrate the day you were born, funnily enough. Its not much, you may be disappointed."

You unwrapped the messily done box, the bow strapping it together done disorderly yet the intent was still there. Opening the box you revealed a bracelet of acorns- neatly strung together. You couldn't suppress your smile, sitting next to the typically cold man and offering him a side hug, much to his dismay.

Yet he found himself allowing you to engulf him in an embrace, albeit grunting and grumbling with cheeks becoming rosier by the minute.

"I love it," you smiled, "Thank you, Lilia."

The general let out a soft sigh with a smile slowly creeping up to his lips, no longer resisting your hug. Although internally he screamed in protest, every fiber of his being begging to stop himself from falling deeper and deeper enthralled with this human he knew would not live past the time he even turned 250. Yet this moment, under the stars and the glow of the moonlight above, he found himself doing things he never thought he'd be doing, feeling emotions he thought would be lost in the field of battle, and saying things he never dreamed of saying to a human such as yourself.

"Happy birthday, (y/n). May your life be prosperous, and peace soon prevail."

~~

Happy birthday @masquerade-of-misery !! I hope it wasn't ...TOO angsty for your tastes.... Happy 33 years though!! And many more years to come!! 💜💜

[neiptune]

aot boys x reacting to a dream where you die

a/n: inspired by @meowzfordayz and her wonderful hcs! got a bit carried away lol these are too long but i hope you enjoy anyway :)

eren secretly freaks tf out but is too embarrassed to admit it. you wake up to the pressure of his hands not so subtly traveling across different parts of your belly and hips, the coolness of his fingertips on your bare skin making you shiver. “eren? what're you doing?” you ask, confused, your own hands closing around his wrists to delicately move them away. but he resists your push, his fingers stubbornly finding their way to the familiar albeit faded scar residing right above your hip bone. “sorry. didn't mean to wake you” his voice cracks, which is enough to prompt you to sit up. “tell me what's wrong” you take one of his hands and squeeze twice, your secret way to communicate that everything's fine. eren's big eyes search for signs of distress or pain in yours but all he finds is genuine concern and grogginess. he relaxes and weakly squeezes your hand right back. “bad dream. it's stupid, let's just go back to sleep” but of course you see right through his fake composure and pull him in for a hug, gently hushing the trembling exhale that tickles your neck as his arms close around you. “you're okay” he whispers to himself and you hum in confirmation, nodding against his shoulder. “i am. the only thing truly hurting me is your snoring”. he huffs at that, covertly thankful you're still there to give him a reason to roll his eyes

lol armin will not be there when you wake up in the middle of the night, senses alert bc of the unusually cold, empty spot next to you. he doesn't reply when you call him so you're forced to get up and explore the whole floor, bathroom to study, until you hear some muffled sniffling coming from downstairs and you rush to the living room, heart in your throat. “armin??? are you okay? what happened??” he's curled into himself on the couch but as he hears your voice he lifts his head, heavy groan crawling up from his throat because what the fuck, why are you awake? he hates hates hates the idea of you seeing him like this for the nth time, always so stupid and helpless now with tear stained cheeks too for something that's not even real. “nothing” his defensive tone startles you and he regrets it immediately, sigh heavy as he tiredly rubs his temples, a sign of surrender and vulnerability that draws you in until you're sitting next to him, warm hand closing on his knee. “what if i brew some tea? we still have some cookies left” you speak gently and his gaze softens, guilt already bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “it's 2am” “and?” “you have to work tomorrow” “and??”. so he ends up brewing the tea instead and you simply won't talk about what happened until the next morning, after a fair amount of the night before was spent sharing homemade peanut butter cookies with armin taking your hand to press gentle kisses to your wrist from time to time <3

oh my god jean 100% feels too stupid to mention it or letting a dumb dream upset him once he's awake and can physically see you and touch you as you're making breakfast together, he's also too proud to admit how horrible it felt to see your body get so rigid, your skin too cold, eyes void of their usual light. so he doesn't mention it. but you can tell something is off: he's more attentive than usual (when has he ever pushed you away from the toaster bc you might bet burned?) he's extremely touchy-feely (more than usual lol it's fine for him to have his arms wrapped around you as you're rinsing a fork but not letting go? not even allowing you to turn off the stove, at the expense of his precious eggs, now at risk of charring??) so of course your spider senses detect that something isn't quite right and you interrogate him over breakfast, just as he casually plays with your fingers and quite uncomfortably tries to eat with his left hand. “what d'you mean i'm being weird? that how you accept my unconditional love?” he has you rolling your eyes a number of times before he shrugs with a “had a nightmare last night, no biggie” “did something happen to me?” “yeah, no need to take the piss, i know it's dumb”. a fond smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you shrug as well. “wasn't gonna take the piss. if something happened to you in one of my dreams, i'd probably freak out” “oh thank god” jean forces you up from your chair in a split second and pulls you in the tightest hug in recorded history lol

well connie will definitely blurt it out and attempt to downplay it at the same time lmao don't even get me started you'll wake up and he'd be in the kitchen making coffee greeting you with something like “g'morning! btw i dreamed you died last night hahaha isn't that so stupid??? you were dead dead, like R.I.P you, right in my arms” and you're standing there like 🤨🤨🤨 “i'm glad you thought that was funny?” “so funny, i even cried a little when i woke up haha you were sleeping right next to me and i was tearing up like a dumbass omg did i mention how still you were???” his emotional responses are all sorts of fucked up tbh. connie doesn't always know how to react to things and unexpected situations and complicated feelings bc he's so used to being the cheerful comic relief but somewhere underneath all the sunshine he carries around there's actual fear. connie is actually scared, all the time. of the ocean, of loneliness, of losing those who are dear to him, of being too much and not nearly enough at the same time. he has his own ways of dealing with fear and they're not always ideal. so you delicately take the clutched phone from his hands and peck his lips once, twice, each kiss lasting longer than the former until he takes your face in his hands and just keeps it there, forehead resting on yours. “i'm here. and you're a stupid idiot for calling yourself a dumbass”. he chuckles at that, which makes you smile. “promise you'll stay alive long enough to call me a stupid idiot a million more times?” “yes, if you wash the dishes”

i mean of course levi is mad. lol. at himself, bc he was not able to protect you in his dream and at you bc where tf are you??? he's petrified sitting up in (a very much empty) bed, mentally gives himself 3 seconds before he allows irrational panic to kick in but thank fuck you flush the toilet 1,5 seconds later, wash your hands and come back to your shared bedroom to find the grumpy man you're in love with glaring daggers your way, scowl so deep you hesitate by the door, silently wondering what you did wrong. were you being so tossy and turny you woke him up? did you take more than your share of blankets? did you accidentally punch him in the face? (it has happened and he was surprisingly nice about it lol). “i'm sorry” you blurt out, cautious as you climb onto your bed again, slipping your legs underneath the covers. “what are you apologizing for?” his voice sounds weird, which freaks you out even more. “not sure” you tilt your head “but you look mad”. levi huffs, features softening. “was it sleep kicking? or did i fart? you know edamame gives me real bad gas—” “you did not fart” he runs a hand through his hair, simultaneously exhausted and biting back an incredulous smile. “you died” he blurts it out but saying it out loud sucks so badly that he clenches his fists and you don't really know how to react. “i couldn't do shit about it. you just died. t'was horrible and i know it's not your fault and it was just a dream but...” “i'm sorry i died” your soft reply interrupts his babbling and prompts another snort. “stop apologizing” “what can i do, then?”. levi inspects your features attentively and takes your hand underneath the covers, intertwining his fingers with yours. “promise you won't do it again” he goes along with your silliness and you smile, nose rubbing against his, barely audible whisper of a “promise” before kissing him

porco will never and i mean never tell you what's up lmao his dumbass would rather die than admit a dream has had the power to affect him at all. he's a grown up™ and rational™ enough to discern reality from fantasy and guess what?? his current reality = you roaming around the house to cook, do the laundry, jokingly mock his housework skills as he vacuums rooms missing entire spots and breaks yet another glass in the sink (“stfu the sponge was too damn soapy it slipped” ) but honestly? porco doesn't even notice how much he stares the day after his nightmare. not just in the morning, he literally can't cast his eyes away from you for the entire day. he's 12 so as soon as you mention it he gets defensive lol like you'll be on the couch with your legs on his lap as he watches something on his laptop, you're reading a book and you'll say something along the lines of “ya know you've been staring a lot today” and he'll automatically reply “yeah?? cuz you're ugly” which only confirms your hunch. “don't be an ass, why were you staring??” “just told you?” “porco” “that's my name, don't wear it out” he's so infuriating honestly but eventually your persistence does wear him down enough to elicit one true response: “because i wanted to make sure you're actually here”. you tilt your head, confused frown that makes him bite back a smile. “what does that even mean?? where else would i be? are you high?” “high on you, babe” lmao yeah he won't tell you how horrible and scary and wrong it was to see your body get so still and your eyes suddenly unwilling to open and your hands not squeezing his back no matter how much he screamed and called for you and cursed and cried. why would he? porco can discern reality from fantasy. as you jokingly poke his side with your sock-clad foot and laugh as he grabs it to nibble at your ankle, he's grateful af for his reality :)

reiner instantly wakes you up lol he's too shaken to think straight and can't handle the pounding of his heart nor the cold sweat coating his forehead tbh. you freak out as well bc he looks like shit so you think he's not feeling well -> it's 30 entire seconds of back and forth (“are you okay?” “are you okay??” “why are you shaking???” “why are you sweating????”) until you can sense his stress is about to grow into a full on anxiety attack and you take his giant, cold, clammy hands in yours, squeezing hard enough to ground him. “baby, breathe with me. i'm right here, okay? just like that. deep and slow”. it doesn't matter that he squeezes back hard enough to hurt you. “you're doing great! wanna count with me?”. he closes his eyes and you both count to ten out loud, three times before he looks at you again and the crude fear that was in his gaze is long gone, leaving space to relief and slight embarrassment. “don't apologize” you cut him off right as his lips part “are you okay? can you wait for me? i'll go grab some water and—” he interrupts you right back by slotting his mouth to yours, with a kiss so feverish your brain shortcircuits. deaf to your protests, he will keep murmuring nonsense against your lips, an endless progression of i'm sorry, you're fine, i'm sorry, i love you, thank god, i love you so much. when you're allowed to catch your breath at last he presses one last kiss to your forehead and you're finally able to connect the dots. much like armin, he doesn't enjoy being so weak and emotional so often around you, but he also knows you feel strongly about him being so hard on himself. you won't have it. so reiner silently accepts and is oh so grateful for each sweet reassuring word you whisper to the shell of his ear, knowing all too well that nightmares have nothing on your i'm here and i'm never leaving and i know i'm safe with you