#they have no right to be that witty and chaotic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

calypso-rt · 3 months ago

Note

this is my first req ever but im obsessed with your honeymoon fic and i can't stop thinking about eloping with rafe??? just going away and getting married without telling anyone. just us two. vows are intimate af. soft emotional rafe. coming back to the obx as mrs. cameron. AHHHH pls <3

elope

-> Rafe x F!Reader

Summary: When a spur-of-the-moment decision leads to a chaotic, love-drunk elopement, you and Rafe Cameron find yourselves navigating married life with zero preparation, but with plenty of laughter, stolen kisses, and the smug satisfaction of returning to the Outer Banks as Mr. and Mrs. Cameron. 𓏌

-> ily anon for your sweet words and unique request, hope I made ur first request worth it <3

✈︎ The Getaway

It starts as a joke. A stupid, reckless, deliriously in-love kind of joke.

You’re both sprawled out on the couch, legs tangled, some movie playing in the background that neither of you are actually watching. Your fingers are absentmindedly tracing patterns on Rafe’s arm when you sigh dramatically.

"What if we just ran away and got married?"

You expect him to smirk, maybe throw back some witty remark about how you’re already his anyway. Instead, he lifts his head, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to excitement.

"Say the word, baby."

You scoff, assuming he's messing with you. "Yeah, okay, Rafe."

"No, really." He’s upright now, turning to you completely. "We could. Just go. Right now. You scared?" His lips twitch like he’s challenging you.

You roll your eyes. "Oh please. If anything, you’d be the one chickening out."

That’s all it takes.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re throwing clothes into a duffel bag while Rafe is… well, not. He’s just standing in your doorway, watching you with the dumbest grin.

"Rafe, pack something," you huff.

"I’ll just buy stuff there," he shrugs, ever the rich boy.

"Where’s your bag?" you demand.

He shrugs. "Figured I’d just wing it."

"RAFE."

"What?" He laughs. "Babe, I got my wallet, and I got you. What else do I need?"

You groan, but before you can argue, he’s tugging you out the door, fingers locked around your wrist as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You won’t.

By the time you get to the airport, you’re both giddy, high off adrenaline, grinning like a couple of kids sneaking out past curfew.

"Are we actually doing this?" you ask, clutching onto his arm as he coolly slides his black Amex across the check-in counter.

Rafe just smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Babe, we were married the second you said ‘What if?’"

...

A Chaotic “I Do”

Turns out, when you spontaneously elope, you don’t exactly get a say in where you end up.

You and Rafe take the first flight out, purely because it’s the next one boarding. And now? You’re standing in the middle of an airport, squinting at a Welcome to the Bahamas sign.

"Okay, solid choice," Rafe says, sliding his sunglasses on like this was all part of the plan.

"We literally picked it at random."

"Yeah, but still. Ocean, sun, you in a bikini? Feels like fate."

You both go straight to the nearest beachfront shop, which is exactly what you’d expect: cheap sunglasses, “I ❤️ the Bahamas” T-shirts, and neon-colored swimsuits.

"Babe, look at these!" Rafe holds up a pair of matching floral-print button-down shirts.

You wrinkle your nose. "Absolutely not."

Rafe tosses one in the basket anyway.

By the time you check out, you have the most ridiculous wedding attire: a flowy white sundress for you (not quite a wedding gown, but it works), and some linen pants and a half-unbuttoned shirt for Rafe (because of course).

You both needed a place to get married. The only available option? A tiny beachside chapel run by an old woman named Martha, who takes one look at the two of you, disheveled, sun-kissed, grinning like fools, and nods approvingly.

"Y’all are one of those love-drunk couples, huh?" she says, already reaching for a pen.

"You have no idea," Rafe smirks.

The ceremony is absolute chaos.

There’s no music, just the sound of waves crashing outside. The ring situation is even worse. Rafe had to buy a cheap one from a souvenir shop (it’s literally got a tiny turtle on it, but he swears he’ll get you a real one later).

Martha starts speaking, but you barely hear it because Rafe keeps whispering things in your ear:

"I still think we should’ve gone for the floral shirts." "Babe, stop laughing, you’re gonna ruin the moment." "Damn, you look good in that dress. Gonna have a hard time focusing, baby."

You swat at his chest, but your cheeks hurt from smiling.

And then, somehow, you’re at the part where she asks if you take Rafe to be your husband.

You don’t even hesitate.

"I do."

Rafe’s eyes soften just a little. "Yeah," he says, voice warm and thick with affection, "I do, too."

And just like that, you’re married.

"Now kiss your bride," Martha says, and Rafe doesn’t waste a second, dipping you down in the most dramatic kiss, nearly toppling both of you into the sand outside.

"See, baby?" he murmurs against your lips. "Told you we were married the second you said ‘What if.’"

...

The Honeymoon Phase

🍊 Breakfast in Bed (Kind of…)

You wake up to the smell of something…burning.

"Oh, no."

Before you can even sit up, Rafe bursts through the door, balancing a tray with way too much confidence for someone who is actively sloshing orange juice everywhere.

"Morning, wifey," he grins, way too pleased with himself.

"Rafe—"

"Made you breakfast." He plops the tray onto the bed, which, by the way, now has a bright orange stain soaking into the sheets, and gestures proudly.

It’s… a mess. The toast is questionable, the eggs are slightly charred, and there’s a very concerning amount of butter on the pancakes.

"You set something on fire, didn’t you?" you ask.

"What? No. Maybe. Doesn’t matter." He shoves a buttery, sticky, orange juice-soaked pancake toward your mouth. "Eat up, Mrs. Cameron."

🏝️ Beach Walks (feat. Rafe’s Need to Be Dramatic)

The sand is blazing hot, and you try to walk normally, but one step in and you immediately yelp, hopping from foot to foot.

Rafe laughs, but before you can even complain, he scoops you up effortlessly, arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

"I gotcha, baby."

"Rafe—"

"Shhh, just let me be your hero."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t protest.

"Y’know," he smirks, adjusting you in his arms, "technically, carrying my wife across the sand is, like, tradition or something."

"That’s for crossing a threshold, not—"

"Baby. Let me have this."

⚭ Introducing You as ‘My Wife’ Every Chance He Gets

It starts off cute.

Like when he checks into the hotel: "Reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Cameron."

Or when he orders drinks: "And one for my wife. She just married the luckiest guy in the world."

But then? He just doesn’t stop.

☀️ At breakfast: "My wife will have the French toast. She deserves the best, obviously." ☀️ To the surf instructor: "My wife’s never surfed before, but she’s a natural at everything, so I’m sure she’ll be great." ☀️ To random people: "Oh, you like her dress? Thanks, my wife looks good in everything."

At some point, you just start staring at him every time he says it.

"What?" he grins.

"You really love saying that, huh?"

"Saying what?"

"‘My wife.’"

"Well…" He leans in, kissing your temple. "It’s my favorite thing to call you."

And just like that, you’re completely ruined for him.

...

💍 The Ring

You're standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your hair, mentally preparing to leave this dream-like trip behind. The past few days had been perfect: messy, chaotic, and perfect.

"You ready?" Rafe's voice is casual... too casual.

"Yeah," you sigh, turning to face him. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

And that's when you see it.

A small, velvet box in his hands.

"Rafe—"

"Hold on," he interrupts quickly, flipping the lid open before you can say anything else.

And there it is.

The ring.

It’s beautiful, an actual engagement ring, nothing like the cheap little band you impulsively grabbed at the tourist shop before the ceremony. The diamond catches the light, shimmering, sparkling. It’s classic, elegant, and somehow… so you.

"You—" Your voice catches in your throat. "Rafe, when did you—?"

He rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, which is insane considering it’s Rafe Cameron standing in front of you. "I might’ve, uh, left the hotel at, like, four in the morning to find a jewelry store."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "You did what?"

"Babe, you deserve a real ring." His voice is softer now, serious in a way that makes your heart do dangerous things. "Something that actually… I don’t know, means something. Something that lasts."

You blink. "Rafe."

"I know we did this all backward, but…" He grins, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto your finger. "Had to get you something that actually makes people jealous."

You laugh, but your eyes are already misty as you look down at your hand, his hand still wrapped around yours.

"It’s perfect," you whisper.

His smug little smirk softens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. ‘Cause you’re never getting rid of me now, Mrs. Cameron."

...

🏡 Back to the Outer Banks As Mr. & Mrs. Cameron

The Pogues’ Reaction

JJ nearly chokes on his beer when he sees the gold band on your finger.

"Shut the fuck up," he says, eyes wide as saucers. "You married Rafe?"

"Congratulations," Kiara deadpans. "Or… condolences?"

Pope just rubs his temples, processing the insanity. "You guys were barely even dating!"

Rafe throws an arm around your shoulder, looking insufferably pleased with himself. "Guess we’re just efficient."

Sarah stares at you, then at Rafe, then back at you. "You— You eloped? Like, actually eloped?*"

You shrug, suppressing a mischievous smile. "Well, yes."

"Bro," JJ turns to Rafe, baffled beyond belief. "You’re a psychopath."

Rafe just smirks. "And now she’s stuck with me forever."

The Kooks’ Reaction

Topper’s jaw drops. "You did what?"

"Married her," Rafe repeats casually.

"You can’t just— That’s not—*" Topper just splutters for a second. "Why wasn’t I invited?"

"There was no invite," you explain, smirking at his distress. "It was very in the moment."

"So you—" Kelce pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to comprehend this absolute madness. "You just ran off and got married. Just like that."

"Yup."

"You’re both insane," he says, but there’s a smile creeping onto his face. "But also… kinda iconic?"

𓏌 Married Life

Everyone’s still reeling from the news. Your phone hasn’t stopped blowing up.

JJ threatens to throw a “belated bachelorette party” despite it being entirely too late.

"You do realize you’re a Cameron now, right?" Topper reminds you every chance he gets, as if you somehow forgot.

Rafe won’t stop introducing you as his wife, relishing every second of people’s reactions.

You catch him randomly grinning at you like a lovestruck idiot.

"What?" you ask one night, curled up on the couch together.

"Nothing," he murmurs, smirking. "Just like saying Mrs. Cameron in my head."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction

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myfictionaldreams · 2 months ago

Text

⁀➷ Crave // Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You're confident, loud, and always in control—until Eddie Munson’s praise turns you into something soft and aching.

Requested by: @peppers-hideout (they/them) -- thank you so so much for this request honestly I had so much fun writing it! Much love <3

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, pleasure dom!eddie, (eventual) sub!Reader, reader is described as extroverted to begin with, praise kink (!!), subspace, domestic fluff, teasing, dirty talk, one line of degrading, aftercare, oral (m receiving), rough sex, mentions of period

Words: 6.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

You were always the loud one.

The kind of girl who could walk into any room, whether it be a grimy bar off Main Street or the makeshift garage stage where Corroded Coffin practices, and just own it. Not because you were trying to. You just could. Talk with your hands. Magnetic and unapologetic. You were all coloured in the grayscale of Hawkins.

And somehow, you were his.

Eddie Munson, chaos incarnate. All black denim, tattoos and silver rings, always smelling faintly of smoke and cheap cologne, with a voice that could go from gravel to silk in the space of a sentence. He worked at the guitar store now – PickPlex - still played gigs, ran Hellfire, and cussed out anyone who disrespected one of his friends. But when he looked at you, it was like the rest of the world stopped existing.

He knew he was lucky to have found the other part of his soul. When the two of you were together, it just was. Soulmates in every sense of the word. If he was in the mood to burn down the patriarchy, you were right there with him with a lighter in hand.

You were his biggest supporter, his biggest cheerleader. There was no breaking the infamous ‘Freaks of Hawkins’, a name that had stuck with you both since high school.

You knew every little detail about Eddie, from his insecurities to his favourite pair of socks- the Led Zeppelin ones with the holes. Eddie similarly knew everything about you, which is why the shift caught him so off guard.

It started on a grey Wednesday. It was one of those Indiana days when the sky looked like wet concrete and everything felt ten degrees colder than it was.

It was your day off college, thank fuck, and you’d shown up at his trailer in sweats, hoodie pulled tight, socks mismatched and tucked over your swears. Your usual bursts of chaotic energy were nowhere to be found. No witty one-liners, no dramatic entrance, just a quiet groan as you threw yourself onto his bed, curled up like a cat, and clutched a microwave's heat pack to your stomach.

Eddie, who had followed quietly behind you, kicked the door shut, leaning casually against it, “Period week?”

You nod beneath your hood, burying your face into his pillow until he's sure you’ll smother yourself. “Feel like hell.”

He didn’t say much. Just kicked off his boots and climbed in behind you, pressing his chest to your back and draping an arm over your waist like he always did, only softer this time, his hand holding onto the heat pack for you.

Making sure you’re still breathing, he eases back your hood, happy to see your face squished on the side. This gives him the chance to kiss your cheek and nuzzle into your neck, breathing you in for a minute.

You hum contentedly, pushing your body back into his.

The calm only lasted for a moment before another wave of nausea and stabbing pain in your uterus caused a deep groan from you.

“You’re such a tough girl, baby,” Eddie encourages, voice low as he momentarily removes the heat pack, but only so he can massage the area that was aching. “So good for me.”

You went still, just for a moment.

Eddie was worried that he’d hurt you, but then he felt the shift as your body melted into his hold. The tiniest whimper slipped out, not quite intentional, like your brain hadn’t caught up with how your heart reacted.

He blinked, massaging your stomach, not daring to move anywhere else.

Just waited until your pain passed.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease him or laugh it off like usual when he was trying to be comforting. You always said his praises sounded like you were a dog he was trying to pet, but there was nothing this time. You just let him hold you. Curled up as small as you can and quiet in his arms.

One arm eventually reaches out, linking your fingers through his, resting on your stomach.

And that was it. No grand revelation. No instant fireworks or declarations of love. Just a moment. But something had shifted, even if it wasn’t verbalised. Because Eddie? Eddie knew everything about you, and the way you had melted into his hold was something new.

He didn’t push it. Not yet. But he filed it away like a secret.

It was a Friday.

You’d stopped by PickPlex after your last class of the day, the sleeves of your oversized sweatshirt pulled over your hands. Your backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. You were talking about your professor’s obsession with overly dramatic grading curves while flipping idly through the racks of guitar strings like they were with your attention, but Eddie could tell something was up.

You were hovering. Lingering.

He was behind the counter, working on restringing a battered Strat for a high school kid who swore he didn’t know how the neck cracked. Eddie had one knee up on the stool, tongue between his teeth in focus, his hair falling into his face.

“Got this back today as well,” you say casually, stepping up to the counter and sliding a paper across towards him.

He barely glanced up at first, “Yeah?”

Then he saw the red circle—a crisp, bold A-.

Eddie set the guitar down and leaned forward, pulling the paper towards him, recognising the title from the essay you’d written for the last 3 weeks. “Holy shit, that’s amazing!”

You tried to keep your face neutral, but your lip was caught between your teeth, eyes flicking away, unable to hold his excited eye contact. It was small, barely-there, but he knew you. Knew that it wasn't nerves when you bit your lip like that. It was hope. Hope that someone would notice. That we would see.

Eddie’s eyes flicked from the paper back up to you. Then he beamed, a dimple forming in his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you, Sweetheart,” he’s stepping around the counter now. “My smart girl.”

You froze. Just for a single beat. Then your eyes dropped to the floor, cheeks warming as your fingers tugged at the fraying cuff of your sleeve.

There was no holding back the smile now, even if it was smaller than your usual grin.

It was the kind of smile that Eddie just knew you kept for him. Felt it like a spark down his spine.

He wraps you in a joyful hug, swaying on the spot as you sigh into his hold, his lips pressing comfortingly against your forehead.

Eddie held you with no rush to let go – it wasn’t like the shop was rushed with customers – and thought about how you looked when he gave you that praise again. The way you softened was like something that finally settled in his mind. Oh.

Eddie Munson did not rush it. Did not shove you into a new rhythm or make a big deal out of it.

Instead, he started weaving it in, casually, like it had always been there. To be truthful, it always had been. Eddie was always an affectionate and complimentary boyfriend, but never before had it had this sort of effect, like your entire personality would shift.

So he wanted to see how to develop this discovery subtly.

It started with the laundry.

You were helping to fold his seemingly endless collection of band tees in his trailer, legs crossed on the beige couch, in nothing but a bra and leggings. He watched you smooth his shirts into near little squares, brow scrunched in focus, like it wasn’t even a chore, just something you did because you were here and you loved him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he said offhandedly, reaching for another shirt.

You faltered—not enough to seem obvious, but enough for him to see. There was just a little pause in your hands, a flicker in your breath, and you didn’t look up at him.

Eddie noticed.

And when you did glance up at him moments later, your lashes were lower than usual. Your smile was gentler as you began discussing what to have for dinner, brushing past your feelings completely.

Hellfire club. Chaos, as always.

Jeff was arguing about spell slots, and Gareth was making some insane suggestion that only fired up Jeff more. And you, usually loud, chiming in with jokes or snatching the dice out of people’s hands, were seated beside Eddie’s throne, legs slung across his lap.

He reached beneath the table, finding your hand in your lap and laced his fingers through yours.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured low enough that the others wouldn’t hear.

No reason. No context. Just because he wanted to.

The muscles in your legs seemed to relax further on his thighs, like your tension melted into the floor. Your body shifted closer so that your head could rest on his shoulder, and you did not say another word.

This wasn’t you. You were usually sitting at the other end of the table, mixing in with your friends, not at his side, clutching his hand like it's your lifeline or rubbing your body against his like a cat.

It was cute. So fucking endearing. But it was out of character, and Eddie was loving it.

A few days later, you were sitting at the diner counter after dropping off some library donations with Robin, still dressed in that little corduroy skirt that always made his hands twitch and talking animatedly about an old lady who tried to tip you with a bag of sweets.

“And then she told me I had a good soul, can you believe it? Me?” Your head tips back in a laugh, reaching across the table to steal one of his fries.

Eddie’s hand catches yours, the coolness of his rings stark on your skin. He didn’t kiss it. Didn’t joke, just held it there as his thumb runs slow circles across your palm.

“You’ve got such a big heart, babe. I love that about you. That old lady was right.”

There it was.

The lowering of your gaze, your shoulders slumping, and your breath hitching. It was like your body short-circuited.

The way your lips parted, but no words came out.

You weren’t just reacting. You were responding. Physically.

Not just to the words but to Eddie. To the way he spoke. To what they meant when they came from him. You looked down at your lap, suddenly too focused on peeling the corner off your napkin.

Eddie couldn’t help it. He smiled, slowly. Grinning like a wolf ready to pounce on his prey. But not yet, he’d wait. He wanted to see just how much he could play into this discovery.

You didn’t even realise you were doing it at first.

Stopping by his work a little more than usual. Bringing him coffee, you didn’t even like the smell. Sliding into the creaky stool by the counter like you belonged there, pulling your textbooks out like the music store was just another extension of your world. Casual.

But it wasn’t about the coffee. Or the studying. Or even Eddie.

Well, not exactly.

It was about the moment you can say, “I passed my midterm.” Or, “Professor Carmichael used my essay as an example.”

And it wasn’t even the grade that made you smile.

It was the smoothness of Eddie’s voice. The way it would lower, rich like honey.

“You’re such a smart girl. Knew you’d kill it.”

“Fuck, I’m proud of you, Sweetheart.”

“My brilliant girl. Look at you.”

Every single time, your heart would beat just that bit stronger. No matter how cold, your body would ignite with heat.

Even if you tried to hide your reaction, you couldn’t. Your automatic response was to look down, trying to hide the twitch in your smile, the way your breath slowed, and the way your body softened. But Eddie always noticed. Because he always watched you.

The way you leaned closer to the praise. The posture changes like you’re settling into something warmer, safer. Like you’re trying to become smaller and compact.

His confident, social, take no shit girlfriend, going soft at the sound of a few words.

So, of course, he started offering it more.

You were trying to hide a yawn behind your hand as you leaned against the counter, brows furrowed as you read through a textbook for college. The shop was quiet as it came close to closing, so the boss didn’t mind when you used it as a place to study, keeping Eddie company.

He stood on the other side of the counter, watching you closely.

Leaning closer, his lips brushed your temple. “God, you’re so focused when you’re learning. That’s so hot.”

It would have sounded like he was teasing you if he had used any other tone. But that same low, silky voice had you instantly biting your lip hard.

And later, when he walked out from the back room and found you curled in the battered armchair near the window, knees tucked under you and your sweater sleeves covering your hands, nose buried in a battered paperback - he didn’t say a word.

Because there it was again. That softness. The unspoken request. The way you glanced up at him, slowly with eyes heavy-lidded like you’d been drifting off and just waited.

The twinkle in your glazed-over eyes, he just knew you wanted him to say something.

“You’re my favourite thing to look at, you know that? So pretty.”

And you whimpered. A quiet, breathy sound like your body didn’t know what to do with how much it wanted that kind of attention.

Eddie smirked, flexing his ringed fingers at his side before offering you one. He was ready to close up the shop, take you home in his van, and wrap his arms around you.

It hit you out of nowhere.

One minute, you were tucked into Eddie's passenger seat, your leg bouncing, and fingers fiddling together in your lap. Humming along to his latest mixtape.

The next minute, the need hit you like a train as his words from the shop replayed in your mind.

It crawled under your skin, burned low in your stomach, and made you shift in your seat, like your body didn’t fit right anymore.

You glanced over at him. One hand on the wheel, his fingers tapping to the beat, eyes focused. Casual and effortlessly hot.

You swallowed, leaning over to turn down the song's volume, “pull over.”

Eddie’s brown eyes flick to yours, “What? What's wrong?”

Reaching across the arm rests, you rest your hand over the bulge in his jeans, squeezing his soft cock. Bold and direct like you usually were. The way he always liked. But instead of the usual firm touch that had him thrusting into your palm, it’s soft, barely even a ghost of pressure for Eddie, like you needed to ask permission even though you just knew you didn’t need to because Eddie made you damn aware that you could touch him any second of any day.

Swearing under his breath, the grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. “Jesus H Christ, Sweetheart-”

“Please, Eds. I just wanna take care of you. I don’t want to wait.”

His heads whipping towards you, eyes alarmingly wide and that alone made your thighs press together to try and ease the throbbing pressure in your clit.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yeah, fuck yeah. Okay.”

Without wasting another second, he swerves the steering wheel, causing the van to drive off the road dramatically, gravel crunching beneath. Managing to park just beyond the treeline, Eddie shuts off the engine, dousing you both in silence.

You both climbed into the back of the van, an area perfectly filled with plush blankets, cushions, and a couple of band posters pinned above the side panels like his bedroom. It was his little getaway, whether to practice his guitar whilst watching the sunset or to smoke a joint with a couple of friends. Over time, though, it had become your haven, a spontaneous and comfortable place for an orgasm or two.

Eddie lies back in the middle, his hands on your waist with the intention of helping you to straddle his waist, but that was not your intention as you drop to your knees between his legs.

No teasing. No commentary. Just that head burning low in your belly, fueling your movements, needing to soothe the emotions in your body. If he could praise you then you were damn sure making him feel good.

Eddie watched, trying to figure out where this energy was coming from, then his mind drifted back to the response you’d give him in the store.

“Easy Angel, I’ve got it. You okay?” Eddie asks as he watches you struggle to undo his belt buckle because your hands shake so much. Another sign that had him questioning which side of you he would be getting.

You nod, avoiding eye contact, fingers gripping his jeans just because you had to hold onto something as he pushes his jeans down to mid-thigh. “Just want you in my mouth. Want you to tell me I’m good.”

The outline of his now hard cock twitches in his underwear as he hisses through his teeth. Licking his lips, he wraps his fingers around your wrists, pulling your body up so that you’re now hovering over him, his mouth so close to yours. “You’re always good for me. My girl. Always so sweet even when you want to suck my cock.”

He sees it. The way the tremble stops, and eyes glaze over, breath fanning across his face. His cock twitches again.

Eddie sits up, his mouth pressing against yours with an urgency that has him moaning first. Your lips are always so soft against his, like pillows, and they taste so sweet from the lip balm you obsessively use.

With his fingers still loosely around your wrists, your hands press into his lower stomach, just to hold onto him. Leaning into his kiss more, you mewl as his tongue brushes against yours.

With a hand now cupping your jaw, tilting your face away from him, Eddie has the perfect angle to kiss along your neck, tickling that ideal spot to have you like putty in his hands.

“Yeah,” he whispered between kisses. “That’s it, you just wannabe my good girl, don’t you?”

The answer came in a head-to-toe shiver as you pull out of his hold, shuffling further down his body once more and hovering over his crotch.

Licking your lips, you reach beneath the waistband, easing out his cock, noting how it hardened at your touch. You open without question, taking him slow, inch by inch, with that look in your eyes like this wasn’t about you at all. It was for him.

“Fuck”, Eddie grunted, hips jerking slightly. “You’re doing so fucking good for me, Angel. Look at you.”

You moan around him, taking him deeper, tasting the saltiness and something that was just so uniquely Eddie.

He could feel the way his praises melted you From your mouth getting wetter, to your thighs squeezing together, your hands shaking as one holds the base of his cock and the other slips beneath his shirt to feel the soft layer of hair beneath his belly button.

“You’re so goddamn pretty like this. On your knees for me, just needing to hear how perfect you are.”

Your responding whimper nearly has Eddie orgasming already. Biting onto his knuckle to try and hold back, he just watches. Not thrusting, not taking. Just letting you take control and do what you like—pleasing him and getting drunk off his voice.

As much as sex was always a give and take motion, Eddie was very much a pleasure dom when it came to intimate moments. He got off on seeing you get off. Even before this revelation that his words were doing more to you than you first realised, Eddie loved nothing more than lying you back, a pillow beneath your hips and his face firmly between your thighs until you’re numb from the amount of orgasms.

Of course, with the years of dating him, you’d pleasured him, but it was never like this, never because you needed it. Not even wanted to pleasure, but needed to get him off, to hear his words, his moans, feel the hand on the back of your head with reassuring strokes of his fingers.

It was like a dormant part of your mind had finally woken up.

Your fingers graze over his balls, playing with them, and Eddie’s back arches, just about ready to blow.

“Wait- I want to finish inside you,” he gasps, trying to pull his cock out of your mouth but you’re determined and keep him in your mouth. “Fuck-! Yes, baby fuck yes!”

You both groan, Eddie deepper than you, as you swallow the hot cum down coating your tongue, lapping at the underside of his cock, his most sensitive of spots, until he slumps back in a satisfied heap.

Eddie gave himself one breath to get his composure before reaching for your body, fully intending to switch positions and repay the favour. However, you were already tugging his boxers back up, crawling into his lap like a sleepy kitten.

“I don’t wanna keep going,” you say quietly, settling your head against his chest, listening to the comfort of his racing heartbeat. Thump thump thump. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

Eddie blinked, hands automatically holding your body closely, “You don’t want me to?”

You shake your head.

“I just needed to be close. Needed you. You always make me feel so good, so I wanted to do the same for you.”

He was quiet for a beat, trying to comprehend your words. “Angel.”

For a moment, Eddie’s worried that you’ve taken this whole praise thing the wrong way. He wasn’t saying these things to expect anything in return, and a heaviness settled in his stomach. But then he looked down at you in his lap, from the grateful smile and the loving look in your eyes and released a sigh, lips brushing against your hairline. “Of course. Yeah, sweetheart. Whatever you want, always.”

He held you for a couple of minutes, just breathing in your perfume, trying to find some composure after his intense orgasm as the van gently rocked from the breeze outside before finding any sort of motivation to drive home.

It crept into everything now. The way you’d gravitate toward Eddie like you needed to be touching him just to breathe right. The way your loud, teasing commentary during Hellfire sessions had quieted into soft chuckles.

You didn’t even notice how much softer you were around him, but everyone else did.

Dustin was the first to speak up.

“Is she sick or something?” he whispered to Gareth after one particularly mellow campaign night. You hadn’t interrupted once. Just smiled, laughed quietly, and curled into Eddie’s side like you were made to fit there.

Jeff snorted, overhearing, “Dude, she used to roast all of us for our dice rolls. Now she just smiles.”

“She’s still her and she can very much hear you assholes,” Eddie interrupts from the head of the table, his arm wrapped casually around you, his thumb rubbing slow circles into you hip as you gave the boys at the end of the table the middle finger. “Se’s just tired lately, so stop judging, yeah?”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t just tiredness.

It was that look you gave him every time he called you good, every time he praised your kindness or told you how proud he was. That softness had settled deep in your bones, a kind of hush that bloomed just for him.

Still, he needed to check in later, when it’s just the two of you back in his trailer, the TV playing some old horror flick as your legs rest in his lap, his hand under your shirt resting on your bare stomach.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, trying to keep his eyes on the screen but spending more time glancing at your face, trying to see any signs that something was wrong.

You nod, idly running your hands over his forearms. “Mhm.”

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Eddie pushes, not satisfied with the response.

You blink up at him, eyes big, warm and open. “Just like being near you, Eds. That’s all.

“Yeah?”

You answer with a sweet kiss to the centre of his throat, directly over his adam's apple. “You make me feel safe, Munson.”

Fuck. That was it. That was the shift he’d been feeling. Not just a change in mood, but a change in trust. You weren’t just his loud, fearless girl anymore. You were letting him carry you a little and letting him be your softness and safe place.

The house party at Steve’s place was loud, chaotic, and everything you loved about hanging out with your friends.

Music blasted from the stereo, and people laughed in the kitchen over spilt beer and half-eaten pizza. Eddie was by your side, sitting on the couch, nursing a beer in his hand, his head tipped back with a laugh with Robin and Steve. You were laughing, too, throwing playful jabs at Harrington’s over-the-top party-hosting skills.

But there was something different tonight. Eddie noticed it almost immediately. You were quieter than usual, a little softer. Not in a bad way, just not as loud or bubbly. Your words were fewer, your movements more delicate as you leaned into Eddie’s warmth. Your usual mischievous grin had softened, and your laugh was quieter, most distant.

It wasn’t that you were sad; in fact, it was very much the opposite. You were still in the moment, enjoying yourself, but Eddie’s gaze kept flicking to you, watching the subtle changes. The way you stared into your red cup a little too long. The way your fingers tapped idly against your knee. The way your smile was smaller and your breath softer.

The way you had been acting wasn’t even necessarily a daily occurrence, either. This softness. There were still days when your loudness would return, the jesting with friends. In fact, yesterday, the two of you had sung karaoke off-key in the local bar just because you wanted to prove that you could hold a note longer than him. He watched, mesmerised, as you stood on a chair and belted out a song with all of your heart. His girl. His beautiful soulmate. Loud and proud.

But today, there was that change once more.

“Hey, Angel. You okay?”

Blinking slowly, like it was an effort to achieve, you give him an almost sheepish smile, resting your chin against his shoulder and breathing him in. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he kisses the tip of your nose. He’d seen you go quiet like this after he complimented you on a particular burn against Harrington in this current war of words.

“Do you want to come with me for a second?”

You nod without hesitation, letting him guide you by the hand as he leads you away through the crowd. By passing the kitchen, he heads up the stairs, pausing at a door near the back of his house, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no other person was following.

The spare bedroom was empty. It was a quiet sanctuary away from the party noise, but the steady bass could still be heard thumping through the floor.

Shutting the door with a soft click, he turns to you, finding you flicking on the small lamp on the bedside table. Eddie licks his lips, watching you closely, from the way you awkwardly shuffle your feet, eyelids lowered like you’re embarrassed to meet his eyes, hands behind your back giving you an innocent demeanour.

Yeah. You were definitely in that praiseful headspace right now.

Eddie was quick to close the distance, needing to feel, touch, and protect you if that's what you wanted. Your lips parted, and his mouth is on yours, stealing all of your breath, hands firmly on your waist so you’re being pulled tightly against his chest.

Your hands circle their way into his hair, clutching it tightly and playing with the curls.

Eddie eases back, but only because he is dizzy from the lack of oxygen, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to compose himself. “You’re so quiet, baby.” Each kiss he placed against your cheek was slow, like he wanted to savour the taste of every inch of skin he reached, making his journey down your neck until you’re melting into his hands. “I know what you need.”

You felt a soft shiver run through you at his words. He was so close now. His hands lowring to cup your arse beneath your skirt, the firmness poking into your abdomen from his cock aching in his jeans.

“Eddie, I-”

He kisses you again, cutting off whatever you were about to say, deepening the movements until your tongues are dancing together, fighting for dominance in a way that you’re now ready to drop to your knees because the word Eddie, Eddie Eddie, was all you could think about. It was addictive.

“Let me take care of you. You’ve been so fucking good, so sweet for me tongiht. I can see it, baby. I can see you slipping into that space. Let me make you feel good. I know that’s what you need.”

You felt your body respond to him. The overwhelming urge just to rub yourself all over him, to feel him on you. You needed to please him, the way he always did for you.

“Please, Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest chevy to suck in air until you’re dizzy and swaying in his arms. Your fingers release the firm hold on his hair, lowering them over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

His eyes flashed with something darker. The corner of his lips tipped up as he began to push you back against the bed, your body bouncing on the mattress, his body now hovering over yours, trapping you underneath him.

“You wanna make me feel good, huh? God, how did I get so lucky to get you, Angel?”

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, his curls framing his face in darkness, the smell of his shampoo filling your senses. “Yes, Eddie. I just want to make you feel good. I need to.”

“Good girl,” he praises sweetly, running his hands down your body. His fingers trace the curve of your waist before slipping under your shirt, admiring the softness of your stomach skin. He pauses for a moment, just to watch your reaction.

Your hips roll, pushing his hands firmer against your body, thighs separating to give Eddie room to rest a thigh just there.

His eyes lowered, watching the way your panty covered pussy now rubbed against his jean covered thigh. He could feel the warmth of your arousal even through the denim, feel the dampness seeping through.

“I love it when you do that. I know you want to make me feel good and you will, because nothing turns me on more than seeing you cum, Sweetheart. Let’s see if you can take me, baby.”

Eddie’s gifted fingers lower to the edge of your crumpled skirt, lifting the flimsy material until your lace panties are uncovered. He sucks in a breath, even though he saw you dress in them earlier, seeing them pressed firmly against his leg had his abdomen tightening with the need to cum. With a breath that helps to soothe that fighting urge down, his fingers slid under the damp material.

His eyes close, groaning deeply as he plays with your wetness, spreading it over your pussy, soaking your clit before lifting his thumb to his mouth, sucking and tasting your juices.

“Taste so fucking good. What do you want, Angel? My fingers, mouth or cock?”

“Cock, Eddie please fuck me.”

Jeans and boxers shoved down, panties off and thrown across the room, Eddie has one hand around your jaw, possessive and dominant as he guides his cock to your pussy with the other hand.

With each inch that enters you, your walls squeeze, the thickness causing your eyes to roll back. Your fingers dig into his forearms, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails.

“Goddamn, baby. Always so tight for me. You love this, don’t you? Love being my good girl?”

You nod frantically, feeling his fingers squeeze just that bit tighter around your throat, not in a discomfort way but just to keep you right there.

Eddie fucked you slowly at first, deliberate and deep. He wanted to see how loud your sweet moans could be, almost wishing your friends downstairs could hear so they knew who you belonged to.

The noises coming from your cunt were just as obscene, the sloppy slick and slap as he moved in and out. You were burning from the inside out; everything started and ended with the man inside you.

“You’re takin’ me so well. So fucking good for me!”

You whined, clinging to his shoulders now as he lowered his chest to brush against yours, the clothes catching together and wrinkling as his hips chase that helpless desperation.

Then something shifted. A spark. A pulse of heat and need in your belly, tightening, growing with each thrust.

Your legs hooked around his waist tightly, grabbing the back of his hair, your voice coming out harsher than it had all evening. “Harder, Eddie. Fuck-harder, please!”

Eddie froze. Then grinned.

“There she is,” he breathed, cock twitching inside of you. “There’s my strong, fiery girl; I’ve been looking for you.”

Your pussy clenched hard around him as your continue to hold onto him.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he groans, snapping his hips forward with enough force that he has to hold your hips down onto the bed. “Hmmm, let me just try something first.”

You’re so deep within your arousal that you don’t respond at first, eyes closed and body trembling with restraint.

“Good girl”, he praises gently, kissing your cheek.

Your inner walls tighten in a quick burst, squeezing his cock, earning a deep groan from your boyfriend.

“Mm, fuck yes, you’re my little slut aren’t you.”

Nothing. Not even a whine, squeeze of your legs, or flutter from your pussy. Eddie chuckles, sitting up on his forearms as he stares at your face. You aren’t upset, but you aren’t reacting; you’re just blank like you weren’t there anymore.

His hands cup your cheek instantly, “Hey, hey. You with me?”

You nod slowly, eyes finally having some depth and life. “I’m okay. I just-”.

Eddie leans down, kissing your nose, lips, chin and cheeks. “I know, that wasn’t for you. It’s okay. I just wanted to see if you would be interested in anything else. But, you’re my good girl, and my perfect angel just wants to be praised, doesn’t she? For taking my cock so fucing well.”

There was. That deep clench that suffocated around his cock, the one that took his breath awy and confirmed his thoughts. “Oh yeah, there she is. Tell me Angel, tell me you’re mine and i’ll make you cum.”

“I’m yours,” you sob, tears welling in your eyes at just how overwhelmingly perfect this was.

Eddie's hips began moving more intensely than ever before, driving your body right to that perfect place.

“Again.”

“I’m yours, Eddie- all yours, always-”

He kisses you so hard you forget how to breathe.

You came with him buried deep inside, clenching like a vice, sobbing through it. Eddie didn’t stop kissing you; he rocked you through it until a new warmth began to spill into you, dripping out with more obscene wet noises and causing more stains on the sheets.

His touches softened, lips encouraged with their touches over your face, bringing your hands to his mouth, kissing each finger.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispers, wiping the tears and sweat from your face with the corner of his shirt.

You nod with a tremble, “I'm ok, Eds.”

“You were incredible, so fucking incredible. All of you, my strong, perfect girl. I love you so much,” he buries his face into your neck, arms scooping beneath your back to wrap you in a hug.

You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. You wish you could return those praiseful words right back to him, but you couldn’t because you needed sleep—even if your last thought was the words, “I love you too.”

The party was still thumping downstairs, but in the quiet, dimly lit spare bedroom, the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

You were in and out of sleep. Body feeling like warm jelly, boneless and dazed, wrapped in Eddie’s embrace on the tangled bed. The room smelled like sex, sweat and Eddie’s cologne. Grounding.

Your cheek was resting against his chest, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers stroked playfully over the nape of your neck.

You weren’t crying. You weren’t sad. You were just… spent.

Eddie felt it. Every tiny tremble in your body, how you clung to him like he was the last steady thing in the world. You hadn’t spoken since you came so hard you’d forgotten your name – not because something was wrong, but because your brain had gone quiet. Floating.

Eddie had been researching different BDSM terminologies, especially since finding out that he liked to be referred to as a pleasure dom. As you began reacting so well to the praises, he wanted to see what else he could learn to help benefit you.

Which is why he now knew you did not like degrading, having had no physical or verbal response during sex.

He also knew that what you were experiencing right now was something called Subspace. You were deep in it, still floating in that blissed-out, fragile place that made you extra soft and sleepy.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie gently spoke, his voice cracking as he did so. “You still with me?”

You nod, somewhat awake, cheek still smushed against his shirt. “Mmhm.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling against your damp forehead. “You did so well for me tonight. So, so fucking good. I’m gonna clean you up now, though, ok? I don’t want you to wake up later feeling gross. Need to get you nice and comfortable.”

After another barely there nod, Eddie carefully slips out of your hold, readjusting his boxers and jeans, rebuckling the belt and straightening himself. He could shower later when you were wrapped up safely in his bed.

With careful coaxing, Eddie helped you walk to the bathroom across the hall and sit on the counter. With warm water on the corner of a towel, he wiped away the sins between your legs, being careful as he moved.

You whimpered, shoulders hunching over, and legs trying to sht at the overstimulation. Eddie, ever the caring boyfriend, took his time, talking you through the touch. “I know, baby. I’m being as gentle as I can, but I need to take care of you.”

You’re practically asleep again by the time he’s stuffing your panties into his back pocket and straightening your clothes. With his leather jacket wrapped around your shoulders, he helps you down the stairs. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

You barely remember the taxi ride home. You were just aware of moving around and leaning heavily against him, and of the moment when the world began to strongly smell like him and home.

Finally, you were being helped out of your clothes and into one of his old shirts. Then, you were tucked into his bed, and he lay beside you in just a pair of boxers.

Only once you were warm and safe in the dark did he speak again, not even sure you were awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling? Do you feel alright now?”

He’s surprised when you react with a subtle tilt of your head against his chest, curling further into his hold, “Yeah, Eddie. I’m just- I don’t know. I felt so close to you earlier. I think I just dropped, is that the right word for it?”

Eddie nods, striking his fingers against your cheek, picturing your face in the dark. “You don't have to explain it, sweetheart. I get it. I felt it too”

“I just wanted to make you feel good. You always take care of me. You're always saying how I'm your best girl, and I just wanted to give that back, even if it was a lot.”

“It was a lot,” Eddie agreed. But I loved every second of it. And you were perfect. You don't need to do anything for me. You could slap me in the face, and I'd thank you for it.”

You laugh tiredly against his chest, “I'm not going to slap you, Eddie.”

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles, tightening his hold. I’ll always take care of you because you’re my best girl, and you’re going to mine forever and always, right?”

“Forever and always, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #mine*#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot

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dollishmehrayan · 6 months ago

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# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

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iris-tarot · 1 month ago

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⋆ 𐙚 ̊. how will your person express their jealousy towards you ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

pick-a-card reading - 18+

this reading can be about your crush, future partner/spouse, or anyone you're thinking about ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

⋆.˚ take a deep breath and close your eyes. look at the above options and pick the image you feel the most drawn towards. scroll down to read your message. if you feel called to more than one image, then maybe there's a message that's meant for you ⋆.˚

⟢˚₊‧♡ about me

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ˎˊ˗

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. pile I ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

⭑.ᐟ I'M GIGGLING RIGHT NOW JASDJASANDAKJN your person is not even angry at you, they are angry at themselves for feeling so strongly towards you. like one minute they are very calm and demure and then the next minute they are a complete mess. it gives me very chaotic energy. like i'm not even kidding when i tell you that they don't know what to do with their feelings - instead, they're going to show you exactly how pathetic you make them feel hehehe 🤭👀. whatever they're going to do to you is going to be so unexpected, even you’ll be caught off guard. your person is going to be so obsessed and possessive over you, the energy here is INSANE. like they’re going to control you and you will not even have a say in it. your person is someone who is NAWT going to take it easy on you. and let me tell you something babe, your person is very insecure and they're afraid you’ll find someone better than them. i feel like even you would be surprised by their outburst because you’ve never seen this side of them before, and it all seems so…new?

it's going to start off with them being insecure at first, but then soon they will dominate you and prove to you as to why they're the best you're ever going to have. their movements are going to be unexpected, quick and witty. one moment they are confronting you with anger, the next minute they are kissing you with their hands in between your thighs sjndsfbjkdbfkjsb. for some reason, i’m seeing here that your person has been waiting for this moment to take place so that they can take out all their aggression and frustration on you. like you get them so worked up, they don't even know what to do with their feelings for you. they're going to play so hard to get babe, and they won't let you reach your climax that easily. they want to see you beg, they want to see you apologizing, they want to see you submitting yourself to them. they're going to feel like a whole new person when they're jealous. you've never seen this side of them before because they hardly show it. but when they do, it's going to be very….um i can't find the word - unexpected? chaotic? it's just going to be very concerning. because they won't let you go until you've orgasmed multiple times on their fingers.

but here's the thing…after making you cum multiple times and making you feel so…..good and tired, your person is going to SPOIL you. i'm talking about buying you gifts, taking you out for shopping and so on. it almost seems like they are rewarding you for your hard work - which is them making you climax multiple times. they're going to be like, “awn baby, you're tired after i made you feel good? here's your reward for being a good girl/boy.” AAHAJSWJNSNWQ i’m literally kicking my feet in the air while writing this down JNSWNCUI3BR ⭑.ᐟ

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ˎˊ˗

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. pile II ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

⭑.ᐟ ummmm….okay…..pile 2 your person is very kinky. when i pulled out your cards, the first message that came right out was “discipline”......so umm…yea…..do i even need to go any further? i see your person being very calm and composed. though they're jealous, they aren't going to let that side of themselves show. they're calmly going to order you around and i see you obeying them. there's something about their voice…it seems powerful, it seems commanding, and it seems so right. it's addicting.

your person knows that you will obey them with just a snap of their finger and they're going to take this to their advantage. to be honest, they don't even have to physically stimulate you and make you feel good. it's their words that will do the job. i see them whispering the things they are going to do to you, and you're literally going to squirm under them. you might even get frustrated and beg them to touch you, but nuh uh…they're not done just yet. they want to see how much of a pathetic mess you are for them. they want to see how much you yearn them. they’re going to keep you on edge and will like it when you plead them to touch you. i hear them saying, “you really thought i would let you get off the hook so easily?”

no matter how much you beg them, they're not going to touch you nor are they going to let you touch yourself. they want to see you crying and pleading. seeing you being so miserable for them literally satisfies their soul. they want to prove to you that no one understands you the way they do. they want to prove to you that they are the one for you. and here's the thing, the reason they are acting so tough is because they care and love you. they might keep you at the edge of your seat at the start, but they will literally nurture and fulfill your desires. they will emotionally make you feel good, rather than physically. this is a soul connection. you don't need to be physical with one another to show your love towards each other. emotional fulfilment is what y’all are seeking for and oh boy, they will give you just that.

they're going to worship each and every inch of your body and i see them asking you if anyone has ever made you feel good like they do. they want you to tell them that they are the best and they know exactly how to treat you right. they're going to love it when you validate them and as a reward, they’ll make cum.

they will also love giving you head and it's going to be even more amazing when they are jealous. they're going to take out all their frustration by eating you out and making you climax on their tongue. and to be honest babe, they're going to be so proud of themselves for making you cum. your person knows EXACTLY how to make you melt 👀✨🤭⭑.ᐟ

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ˎˊ˗

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. pile III ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

⭑.ᐟ YOU'RE THE SPICIEST PILE OMFG AHHAAHJAJAJA. this pile is giving me strong “make-up s*x” vibes. your person is someone who will not take things lightly and once you've made them feel jealous, they're going to switch to a side of themselves you never even knew existed. there's going to be heated arguments and i see both your ego’s clashing. i feel like there is a lack of trust here. and to be honest babe, i do not see you doing well after you guys argue. you might be very emotionally exhausted after y’all argue, but here's where the spicy part starts. your person will realise that they have overreacted and will reach out to console you, and they're going to do this in the most surprising way possible. they're going to start by kissing your tears and caressing your cheek, but then something takes over them…..it's like a new button has been switched on. they're going to go WILD, babe. like i wish i was kidding, BUT I SO AM NOT. there will be a little resistance from your side at the start, but i see you submitting yourself to them very soon.

i’m seeing here that your person will throw sarcastic comments in between f*cking you - saying things like, “you think __ can f*ck you like i do?” or when you're moaning from pleasure, they might hit you with the, “want to be a rebellious girl/boy and act smart, huh? do you really think __ could make you scream the way i do?” JFNIJSFUIRIUGNIRNOV

your person seems like someone who is very talkative in bed and i'm seeing here that they'll love the expressions you make everytime they make you feel good. if you try to cover your face while doing it with them, they'll literally pull your hands apart and smirk at your miserable state. oh, they're going to make you feel so good, you can't help but beg for more. you will force yourself not to surrender to them and you will play it hard to get, but your person knows exactly where and how to tease you. you might even force yourself not to orgasm so that you don't boost their ego, but you’ll eventually give in.

and you know what the funny thing is? after being so sarcastic with you, your person will literally cuddle you and will pretend like they didn't just make you cum like multiple times. your person might even pretend to not care about what just happened and they'll try to casually lie down with you. i feel them saying, “you got the punishment you deserve.” LIKE UM OKAY CALM DOWN SIR/MA’AM.

your person is someone who is very talkative and communicative, and they'll love it when you ask them to please you. like they want to see how weak you get under their touch.

but here's the thing, when you're making love to your person - especially when they're jealous, you'll be a little surprised by how different they seem. i don't know why, but i feel like they might be a little distant if they make love to you when they're jealous. it almost feels like they're shielding themselves from disappointment. did that even make sense?

your person is someone who will literally f*ck the shit out of you and then they’ll take care of you in such a way where you will look at them and be like, “there is no way YOU just broke my back right now”. like they're going to go back to being themselves after making love to you, and you will be confused if they are the same person who just made your legs shake uncontrollably lmao 😭🤭✨⭑.ᐟ

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ˎˊ˗

⭑.ᐟ hello, thank you so much for making it till the end and i hope you could resonate with my reading. i would really appreciate it if you could like and reblog my post as it would mean a lot to me!! i'd love to hear which pile you picked and what resonated with you. take care and i hope you have a lovely day/night -`♡´-

ˎˊ˗ full credit for the images and dividers goes to their original creators and rightful owners.

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drfruitcake · 26 days ago

Text

Left On Read

Michael Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader

Rating: Explicit / MDNI (language & smut) Word count: ~4,200 Tags: reader insert, no use of y/n, colleagues to lovers, mutual pining, slight age gap (29F and 50M), smut, explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v, oral sex (F receiving), no beta

Summary: You accidentally send Dr. Robby a nude photo. You both spend the day spiraling out over it — and then you spend the night together.

Notes: This is literally just an excuse for some shameless smut. I am not a health care professional, so please forgive any medical inaccuracies.

Read on AO3 or under the cut.

Michael Robinavitch nearly dropped his phone, which could have been a disastrous fumble, given he was presently stepping into the elevator of his apartment building.

It was nearly 7 a.m. and far too early for a text like that. Especially from you, the fifth-year surgical resident he had grown to know quite well; the one who was sharp and witty, poised and composed, always one of the smartest in the room. Though you were two decades younger than him, he viewed you as a colleague worthy of admiration and respect.

He certainly did not view you as someone who sent 7 a.m. nudes accompanied by the caption, “You coming tonight?”

Michael stared in disbelief at the text thread, void of any coherent response. His brain seemed to stutter over the erotic image of you, posing in your bedroom mirror, fresh out of the shower with nothing on, your lips curved in a sly smirk as if you knew you were going to inflict absolute chaos that day. Of course, you didn’t know that the senior attending of the ER would be on the receiving end of that chaotic missile you casually dropped with one tap of the Send button.

Michael blinked in disbelief as the elevator reached the bottom floor, its doors gliding open while his eyes remained glued to the sexuality splayed across his phone screen. It wasn’t until someone stepped into the elevator that Michael snapped from his trance.

He scrambled to swipe the image from his screen in a clash of guilt and shame before he scurried from the elevator to head to work.

A sudden tightness surged within his throat as the shame snowballed. Something felt morally wrong about seeing you that way. Sure, Michael had pictured how you looked beneath your scrubs on countless occasions, but that was a secret meant only for the filthiest depths of his private mind. This vision was now a mutual thread between the two of you — one he hadn’t asked for. Not that he was complaining.

The truth was Michael had a painful attraction to you, and seeing you in your most intimate form wasn’t going to help him overcome it.

But clearly that picture had been meant for someone else, right? The previous texts before you sent that dastardly photo were your brags about beating Michael in your fantasy football league that week. There had been no exchange to prompt such an obscene display of intimacy, no indication of any attraction or desire – though it certainly existed.

Michael dragged a hand over his face as he pocketed his phone with no response. What could he possibly say to that, especially when he couldn’t be sure that photo was meant for him?

Meanwhile, you strolled into the surgical floor of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center none the wiser to your little mishap. Once you removed your jacket and put your purse in your locker, you decided to check your phone one final time before the start of your shift.

You frowned in disappointment at the blank screen. Surely Rodney, your six-week situationship, would have at least replied to your risqué text with a heart-eyes emoji.

When you opened up your message threads, your stomach sank — and you wanted to sink to your knees, or perhaps all the way into the earth.

“Fuuuuuck,” you hissed as you realized your mistake. The worst part was the “Read 6:55 AM” below your message, sent to the hot senior attending of the ER you’d likely have to face before the day’s end. “No no no,” you groaned as the fear and mortification bloomed throughout your body.

You considered marching up to the roof of the hospital and flinging yourself to the streets below. But the worst part was, if you somehow managed to survive such a fall, Michael would be one of the first people you’d see when they inevitably scraped you off the sidewalk and hauled you into the ER. And then he would have seen you naked and brain dead all in the same day.

You decided to avoid the ER at all costs.

Of course, that vow was short-lived as soon as Dr. Walsh sent you down there for a consult. You held your breath the entire elevator ride down, your heart rattling within your ribcage as you silently prayed Dr. Robby had the day off. You exhaled and thanked every higher power you didn’t believe in when you didn’t see him at the nurses’ station.

That gratitude was fleeting. Two steps into Room 2 and you damn near stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted Dr. Robby standing behind Dr. Mohan. You locked eyes before you could avert your gaze and the mutual realization of your shared situation sent your nervous system into overdrive. You couldn’t read him, which unnerved you even more.

What if he thought that photo had been meant for him? What if he thought you were some kind of sexual deviant? What if he’d lost all respect for you? What if he’d shown that photo to your colleagues?

All of your anxieties mingled until you became acutely aware that there was a wounded patient in front of you.

“What have we got?” you croaked, tearing your eyes from Dr. Robby.

“Gerard Milligan,” Samira answered. “Coworker says he fell about 10 feet off a roof and landed on a fence post. Vitals are good.”

You examined poor Gerard Milligan and ordered the team to take him up for surgery, but it was painfully clear you were distracted. So was Dr. Robby.

You snuck a sideways glance at him, your eyes darting away as soon as you realized he was watching you. You felt certain your skin would catch fire beneath his gaze. Part of you wished it would.

“You alright?” Samira asked with worried eyes as the room cleared out. You watched Dr. Robby return to the desk to chat with Dana before you sucked your top row of teeth.

“I fucked up,” you said quietly, your lips thinning as you tried to decide how to reveal to your friend that you’d mistakenly sent a nude photo to her boss.

“With the patient?”

“No. With Dr. Robby.”

“How so?” Samira studied you with curious eyes.

“I accidentally sent him something,” you continued carefully. “Something he wasn’t meant to see.”

“What are you talking about?”

You heaved a sigh. “I accidentally sent Dr. Robby a nude.”

Samira’s eyes doubled in size. “What?!”

“I meant to send it to Rodney – that guy I told you about – the one I’ve hooked up with a few times,” you explained. “But I accidentally sent it to Dr. Robby this morning.”

“What’d he say?”

“He left me on read – no response!” You could tell Samira was fighting a laugh. “Don’t laugh, this is serious!”

“You probably left the poor guy speechless,” Samira mused. “He probably doesn’t know what to do with all that.”

“It’s not funny! What if he thinks I meant to send it to him?”

“Well, would that be the worst thing?” Samira asked with a pointed stare. You’d been close friends for four years and she’d picked up on your crush on Michael ages ago, not that you ever discussed it.

“Yes!” you hissed. “Because it’s not like he’s into me! He probably thinks I’m a freak.”

“Maybe he’s into freaky shit.”

“Be for real!”

“I am,” Samira said. “Everyone down here in the ER thinks he’s down bad for you.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Think about it,” Samira said matter-of-factly. “He’s always going on about how brilliant you are, and how he wishes you would have considered emergency med. And he’s always eyeing you with that sad, wistful stare. Plus you know more about football than him, and I think that secretly turns him on.”

“Oh, stop!”

“I’m just saying,” Samira laughed. “I’m sure he’s not upset about receiving that photo.”

“I want to die,” you groaned as you followed Samira from the room.

“Well, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“Avoid the ER for the rest of my life.”

“Or maybe you should just talk to him about it.”

“Or maybe I could quit my job and move across the country.”

“Hey, sweetheart!” Dana called toward you. You swore under your breath before turning to offer Dana a smile, your eyes determined to avoid Dr. Robby. “How you been? Had a good a weekend?”

“It was good,” you offered casually as you strode toward the nurses’ station. “Uneventful.”

“Heard you kicked Dr. Robby’s ass in fantasy football.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Yeah,” you managed with a breathy laugh. “Not like it was hard.”

You could feel Dr. Robby’s eyes fixated on you. Was he thinking about that photo right now? Was he disturbed or disgusted? Was he disappointed in you? Or was there a chance he was turned on?

“Pretty easy to rack up a win when you’ve got Saquon Barkley on your roster,” Michael said. You shrugged a nonchalant shoulder and finally dared to meet his eyes. Their intensity made your breath hitch.

“Draft better next year,” you said simply, praying you could keep your cool. Meanwhile, Dana and Samira were watching your exchange as if it were live theatre.

“I’m okay with you beating me as long as it means you beat Langdon,” Michael said. “I can’t stand another year of his insufferable bragging.”

“I’m sure I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sure you will.” Something flickered in his eyes as he spoke, rendering you immobile. You couldn’t decipher it, and you didn’t dare provoke it in front of your colleagues.

“Well, I’d better get upstairs,” you finally said, tearing your gaze from Michael to smile at Dana. “Catch up with you later, okay?”

As you disappeared behind the elevator doors, Michael disappeared into the bathroom.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered after splashing cold water on his face. He wasn’t even halfway through his shift and that image of you had him in a chokehold. Michael gripped the edge of the sink and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself and banish the vision away. Instead, he found himself imagining you in even greater detail.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he hissed as he shook his head.

He couldn’t continue to work like this, but he also couldn’t possibly broach the subject with you. What would he do, waltz up to you and declare, “Hey, nice photo!” That was a sure trip to human resources.

He had no choice, he decided, but to continue to pretend as if it hadn’t happened. Eventually, you’d both forget about it, right?

But Michael knew damn well he couldn’t forget about that picture if he tried.

Dr. Walsh didn’t help matters. Despite your protests, she ordered you back down to the ER for another consult in the afternoon. You checked your phone first, expecting to see a reply from Rodney after you sent him the photo, but instead found a message from your best friend from college.

“Check Instagram,” was all her text said. Your heart sank as you opened the app and scrolled through your feed, unsure what you were supposed to be looking for. You stopped mid-scroll when Rodney’s face popped up, your throat tightening as you realized he’d been tagged in a photo by a woman. He stood, smiling with an arm hooked around her waist as she kissed him on the cheek. The caption said, “Celebrating one year with the love of my life!”

“What the fuck,” you groaned in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You tossed your phone into your locker and headed for the ER.

“What have we here?” you asked with feigned composure as you walked into the chaos unfolding within Room 1.

“Two-car MVA,” Samira responded. “The dashboard folded inward and pinned his legs.”

The patient hurled a string of obscenities in pain as he flailed, arms shooting upward. One caught you on the cheek with a closed fist, forcing you backward.

Michael was on you before you could even taste the blood in your mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, a hand finding the small of your back. You felt that more than the sting in your jaw.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you sighed, wincing at the raw cut inside your mouth, where your tooth connected with your inner cheek. “I hate the taste of blood, though.”

“Well, that clears up the vampire rumors,” Michael quipped. Your colleagues vacated the room and wheeled the patient out, leaving just the two of you. You offered him an exasperated smile and he leaned in closer to peer at your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you insisted quietly. “Just a small cut in my mouth.”

“Do you need some gauze? You didn’t bite your tongue, did you?”

“For once, no,” you joked. Michael flashed a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, and you knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Listen,” you sighed before you could stop yourself. “About that text…” Michael held his breath. “That was… a really unfortunate and horrifying mistake.”

“It was… certainly an interesting start to my morning,” Michael said carefully. There was a hint of lighthearted jest in his tone, and while you were grateful for his attempt at softening the situation, you were still humiliated.

“I can’t even imagine,” you continued, a flush settling across your features. “I mean, I really am so, so sorry. It was so completely inappropriate and I swear I never would try to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” Michael cut in gently. “Really. Forget it happened.”

You paused to catch your breath, your nerves still screaming in despair. “Okay,” you said with a long exhale. “Thanks for, you know, understanding. And I promise to double-check before sending any more texts like that.”

“Good idea,” Michael replied. “I’m sure your boyfriend would appreciate that.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you responded stupidly, before you could stop yourself. “He’s just a guy I was… seeing.”

“Ah, I see.”

“To be honest, this was all for naught. I found out today he has a girlfriend.”

“Ouch. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You breathed a fake laugh, in disbelief at how your day had managed to devolve into such absurdity as you moved to leave the room. “I’d only been seeing him a few weeks. Not a big deal. Anyway, I apologize if I’ve left you permanently scarred for life.”

“Like I said, forget it happened,” Michael said reassuringly as he held the door open for you.

But any chance of him forgetting evaporated when you’d mentioned you didn’t have a boyfriend, and that things had fallen apart with Rodney. Though it was now clear that picture wasn’t intended for him, Michael realized he’d never look at you the same.

He decided he could either be plagued by the omnipresent vision of you looking like absolute sin incarnate, or he could make an effort to put years of distant, desperate desire to bed.

When he ended up loitering on the front steps of your townhouse, you nearly tripped over your own feet.

“Dr. Robby?” you asked, slowing your pace as you approached with caution – not because you were fearful of him, but because you were stunned he’d seek you out after you’d essentially sexually harassed him via phone.

“Hey,” was his response.

“What are you-”

“I, uh, just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay. You seemed to have had a rough day.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” you answered carefully, your dry mouth a stark contrast to your sweaty palms. “Nothing I won’t get over. You know, beyond the lifetime of embarrassment.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” There was a glitch in his tone; much more confident and dominant than you’d expected. It matched his gaze, which was starting to suffocate you with its intensity. Michael no longer felt like the senior attending of the ER or your colleague. He felt like a man you desperately needed to discover at a much deeper level.

“Do you… do you want to come inside, have a beer?” you asked, silently willing your nerves to develop some semblance of confidence. You wanted to be the fun, sexy version of yourself you’d shown in that photo. But Michael already saw you that way, and he wanted to match it.

“Yeah, alright,” he responded, his voice turning raspier than usual. He stood behind you as you unlocked your front door. You felt idiotic as you nearly fumbled your keys. You were a fucking surgeon, known for your steady hands, and you couldn’t even unlock your goddamn door.

But once inside, Michael gazed at you through heavy lids. You stared back with bedroom eyes and gathered the courage to pull the trigger.

“You know, that photo was meant for someone else,” you started steadily as you kicked your sneakers off and slid out of your jacket. “But I’m curious to know what you thought.”

You watched the muscles shift inside Michael’s throat as he swallowed. “I thought about it all day,” he rasped. “And I’ll probably think about it for a long time.”

“But what did you think?”

“I think that the guy it was meant for is a fucking fool.”

“Oh yeah? To be honest, I’m not thinking about him at all.”

You stepped toward Michael, and the low embers that smoldered between you surged, igniting in an inferno as you kissed him. Your lips crashed hard and his hands grasped at your waist until he was forcing you backward. The backs of your calves met the staircase and you ended up seated on the third step with Michael on top of you. His cock stirred inside his pants.

His lips found your neck and the ache between your thighs became a scalding heat that left you desperate for relief. You helped Michael out of his hoodie and tugged the hem of his shirt overhead, your greedy hands dragging over his torso. But he was even greedier.

He lifted up your own top and you could feel his hands snaking up your back to unhook your bra. He didn’t hesitate to palm your right breast, his left arm supporting himself above you. You were already shifting beneath him, your hips begging his for more.

Robby’s lips planted a stream of kisses from your collarbone to the swell of your breast until his tongue flattened against your nipple. A low hiss escaped your lips as he sucked against your flesh.

You believed this would go quickly; that years of unspoken lust would culminate in the form of something quick, unsophisticated and needy. But Michael didn’t want this to be a fleeting, singular act. He wanted it to become more permanent, more lasting than that fucking photograph.

His hands curled around the waistband of your pants until you were kicking them off, your panties right behind.

Suddenly, the photo from that morning was forgotten. This was far better than pixels on a screen.

Your own hands moved to help Michael from his pants, but he caught them to stop you. Panic mounted in your chest and your brain, convincing you that he changed his mind. Instead, he lowered himself until his knees met the floorboards and his arms were hooked around your thighs.

The moan you’d been desperately trying to suppress finally made itself known, breathy and short as Michael’s tongue met your clit. It sent a surge of arousal through your nerve endings until you were whimpering in submission.

“Robby,” was all you could manage through pitiful panting. He hummed in response, his eyes drifting upward until they were staring in yours. Your fingers gripped the edge of the step.

More moans left your throat as Michael’s tongue flattened itself against your swollen clit, rolling in waves until you could feel the mounting tension in your nerve endings threatening to collapse. Your nails scraped against the wood step, threatening to snap like the taut string of your climax. It strained tighter and tighter, your hips grinding your cunt against Michael’s tongue until you were on the cusp of your reward.

You let out a string of curses as the string snapped, your orgasm rippling over your cunt until your back arched and your legs were fully draped over Michael’s shoulders. He continued the pressure until you were pushing him away, your core too sensitive for any more assault.

Michael placed a swift kiss to your thigh and sat back on his heels as he watched your chest rise and fall in recovery. He couldn’t help but palm the bulge in his pants in arousal.

“Let me,” you croaked as you reached for his belt and helped him shed his remaining clothing.

The wood step was narrow, awkward and painful against Michael’s knees as he settled between your thighs, but he’d rather die than wait another moment to discover how it felt to bury himself within you.

“I can flip over-” you started to offer, but Michael shook his head.

“No,” he commanded. “I want to see you.” You sure as hell weren’t going to protest. “Fuck,” he groaned against your neck as the tip of his cock sank into your slick walls. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

The pressure was dizzying as your walls stretched to accommodate him. You could swear you felt every ridge of his cock until he reached the hilt, igniting your nerve endings into overdrive. You couldn’t help but squeeze your cunt tighter around him, drawing a groan from Michael.

His hips retreated and rocked forward, threatening to send your eyes rolling back into your head. You clamped them shut as you focused on the friction within your core and Michael’s shaft dragged through your walls, his tip pressing into the deepest part of you. He gritted his teeth at your tight heat, his cock nudging you closer to the edge with each snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Robby, don’t stop.” You didn’t like to beg, but you were far too drunk on Michael for any grace or dignity. You’d ask him to drag you through Hell if that’s where he was going, just so you could follow him.

The way you pleaded, the way your flushed face strained in desperation, the whines that chorused from your lips – it left Michael in a dilemma straight from his dreams; the need to prolong this to commit it to memory, and the desperation to discover how it’d feel to make you fall apart.

Michael’s rhythm increased, his jaw clenched as he fucked you into the stairs, the step's ledge gouging into your back. It knocked the wind from you and left you gasping and sputtering between broken moans. Michael set a fervid pace, desperate to claim every inch of your inner core. You drove your hips upward until the sounds of smacking skin chorused around you.

“Robby,” you choked again – half plea and half warning. Your nails raked over his shoulders, clawing desperately at a release. His hips drove upward until he was damn near lifting you off the stairs. Your legs locked tighter around Michael as if they were demanding he grant you an orgasm.

He buried his face in your neck. The stairs creaked with each movement in harmonic tandem with the whines from your throat.

“Don’t hold back,” Michael ordered. “Come for me.”

Your walls began to flutter and you bit down hard on your bottom lip. Your whines became strained and painful as control slipped from your grasp and your core. Finally, you unleashed a resounding wail as your climax sent you trembling around Michael’s cock in euphoric waves.

The adrenaline from your high surged through Michael and pulsed through his cock as it throbbed. He barked a sharp grunt as he spilled himself inside you, his hips ending their assault.

Michael’s body went slack. He used the scant remnants of his energy to prop himself up above you, his eyes scanning yours. Their quiet hunger had been replaced with tender affection as you both caught your breaths.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Good.” Your unwieldy and uncomfortable position on the stairs settled with more clarity when Michael winced from the pain in his knees. “I’m getting too old for this,” he groaned as he shifted himself to sit next to you. You lifted an amused eyebrow at him and he chuckled softly. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added. He pressed a kiss to your temple for emphasis.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally asked curiously.

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you reply to me earlier? You left me on read.”

Michael offered you a sheepish grin. “I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted. “I mean, I assumed that picture wasn’t for me. And I was afraid if I responded, you’d think I was being a creep.”

“So you instead chose to say nothing and leave me to spiral out all day?”

Michael laughed and rested a hand on your thigh. “If you keep sending me photos like that, I promise I’ll never leave you on read again.”

#michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x you #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt fanfic #the pitt #the pitt smut #dr robby #mdni #michael robinavitch

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devildomwriter · 10 months ago

Text

They Find Your Oddly Specific Erotic Manga | Others X Reader

GN! Reader x Solomon, Simeon, Raphael, Mephistopheles, Barbatos, Diavolo | Warnings: Suggestive

Solomon

You groaned as Solomon set a heavy pile of books on the table in front of you.

“How many of those do you need me to read?”

“As many as possible.” He chuckled at your gloomy expression. “What, don’t you want to become more powerful?”

You nodded but sighed as you closed the book that actually entertained you, and placed it back on its shelf.

Solomon followed you with his eyes and noticed you’d rearranged your shelf from the last time he saw it.

“Oh, you organized it!” He exclaimed and grinned proudly. “Excellent. Now we can find space to put your new books.”

You blushed and shook your head, you didn’t need this man to find the books you strategically placed out of sight. If he read the title alone he’d never let you live it down.

“Ah, please don’t mess with those,” you pleaded but when he saw your shy expression he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh? What could my sweet apprentice be hiding from me?” He teased. “Don’t you know you should share everything with your master?”

He began looking over the books and even behind them.

You stood up quickly and outstretched your hand, reciting a spell you’d recently learned. “I call upon the earth itself to shackle the one who stands before me. Leave them bound and helpless. I am the sorcerer ___, obey me!”

Solomon looked shocked when shackles appeared from your bedroom floor and wrapped around him.

“Incredible! Job well done, ___.” He smiled but with a snap of his fingers, they dissipated. “Unfortunately I’ve long since mastered that spell, sorry. And now I’m more curious than ever what you could be hiding.”

You groaned and gave up, accepting your fate. You heard his chuckle and assumed he must’ve found the books you’d hidden. His laugh became louder and he wiped tears from his eyes.

“It’s no wonder you hid these!” He exclaimed, “These are oddly specific too, aren’t they?” He noted as you continued to hide your face.

“Virgin Witch,” he listed, “Master Sorcerer Is Obsessed With His Angelic Apprentice! That one’s relatable,” he admitted, making you blush further. “Oh I like the Looks of this one; Fighting Demons With My Handsome Master: I’ll Follow Him to the End of the World and into Bed! Oh, I wonder if you find that one relatable?” He prodded as he looked at your steaming face.

“You’re a jerk…” you mumbled and he laughed, unbothered.

“Ah, maybe I am? But I was going to find out eventually, right?” He shrugged and you finally looked up, brows furrowed angrily.

He shook his head, “Now what’s with that look? You’re the one reading these books.”

“Reading isn’t a crime.”

“Exactly! And that’s what I did just now, no?”

You sighed. There was no use arguing with someone given the title “Witty” by the master of time, Barbatos himself.

“Now that that’s in the open. How relatable do you find these to be?” He unbuttoned the top of his uniform and approached you with a wanton gaze, “…I’m dying to know. You’ll show me…won’t you?”

Simeon

Simeon sat on your bed, reading with you. You tried to meet up and have a relaxing day as often as you could. Given all the chaotic people in your life, it was nice to have company who didn’t need to talk to have fun with you. Simeon was content just being by your side.

He closed his book and sat up, petting your head before he got to his feet to shelve the book he’d just finished.

“Where did this one go again?”

“They’re categorized by genre,” you said, not looking away from your book.

He nodded and scanned the many shelves of books when his eyes crossed a peculiar title and he got a mischievous look in his eyes.

“____,” he questioned with an innocent smile, “what’s this?” He held up what was clearly an angel-based erotic manga.

You sat straight up, “oh shoot!” You exclaimed and he laughed and flipped through it.

“Can Angels Do This?” He read and noticed there were similar titles next to it.

You immediately regretted shelving the books by genre as he listed the other titles with amusement.

“Hell x Heaven…Heavenly Body…Angelic Whispers Bring Demons to Their Knees…Over-Cumming Writers Block…The Fallen Angel is Falling For Me!” He smirked, “that last one looks rather interesting…” he said with a curious gleam in his eyes.

You turned red and looked away, no longer focused on your book.

He walked over to you, book in hand. “I think I’ll read this one next,” he declared and you gave him a baffled look.

“W-What? Right next to me, too?” You stammered.

“Oh, are you embarrassed? Why would you be?” He grinned, knowing full well what he was doing.

He sat next to you on the bed again, closer than before, and began reading the erotica.

You couldn’t focus on your book and kept glancing to see what page he was on. He chuckled, stole your book, and set it aside.

“Wh— hey?” You complained but he laughed and scooted even closer to you.

“Hm? I’m sorry, I assumed you wanted to read this with me…that’s certainly what it looked like.”

You blushed and he continued to tease you, “Or were you staring at me for another reason?”

“No I-uh…um…” You hid your face in your hands and he frowned.

“I’m sorry did I go too far?” He asked with his hand behind his neck and head tilted slightly to appear more innocent.

“Well, it’s hard not to stare at you, to begin with…” you mumbled and it was his turn to blush. “But now you’re reading…that.”

“Well, you read it too didn’t you?”

“Y-yes but that’s different.”

“How is it different? Were you ashamed? Could that be because you bought this oddly specific manga with someone in mind?”

He knew he nailed it when you turned deep red and he pushed the hair out of your overheated face.

“Oh…so that is it, isn’t it?” He mused and when you met his eyes he couldn’t help but ask, “Wouldn’t you prefer a real angel over your books?”

Raphael

Raphael was an observant man. Almost too observant because he hadn’t been in your room for long when he noticed part of your bookshelf was hidden by framed pictures of you and your Devildom friends.

He couldn’t focus on the puzzle you’d invited him over for, and kept glancing at the shelf until you noticed his foot was quickly tapping on the floor, giving away his curiosity.

“Raphael? Is everything okay?” You asked, hoping he wouldn’t pry any further about the bookshelf.

“The bookshelf.” He stated, and you sighed. He titled his head curiously.

“Oh…those are just books an angel shouldn’t be looking at…” you admitted, hoping that would be the end of it, or he’d stop at a light scolding.

He gave you a look that made it clear he wasn’t just disappointed in your taste in books, but more so that you tried hiding it from him.

“I’m aware humans like that kind of thing. Why did you feel you needed to hide it from me?” He asked with a frown.

“Because I knew you’d give me your disappointed look.”

“Am I that predictable?” He asked and you nodded.

He appeared to be thinking it over and then abruptly stood up to investigate the shelf further. He understood you must mean books with inappropriate material but he wanted to be certain you didn’t mean demon-worshipping books as that was also something angels shouldn’t be reading.

You put your face in your hands and groaned. Nothing would stop Raphael and you weren’t looking forward to the scolding.

As expected there was a stunned silence from him for a minute before he turned to you, brows furrowed and placing a stack of books in front of you.

He sat back down facing you as if he were about to begin an interrogation.

“Cotton Candy My Angel…” he began listing. “Beastly Angel… The Words of an Angel Who Came From Heaven… I Want the Angel to Use His Spear on Me!” He looked puzzled by the last one and mumbled, “That’s oddly specific…”

You blushed and nodded. “Okay…you found the secret stash…let’s continue the puzzle.”

He didn’t drop it, as expected. “You understand angels can’t do this sort of thing with humans?” He questioned and you nodded but then shrugged.

“Well…I’m not technically human, am I?”

A nearly unnoticeable blush crossed his face and he remained silent, deciding how to respond to that. “Angels…don’t really do that with each other either…”

“As far as you know.”

“What?” His confused face made you chuckle. It was almost too cute for words.

“I said what I said.”

“What are you implying? What sort of things are you imagining?” He prodded.

You shrugged again, “I don’t know…what do you think I’m implying, Seraphim Raphael…”

His blush was now very noticeable as he stood up and put the books back on the shelf. He sat back in front of you and quickly began messing with the puzzle pieces.

Every so often you tapped his foot with yours and his blush would increase. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to ignore it for much longer.

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles looked around your room curiously. You’d invited him over to talk with you as he’d long been interested in interviewing the exchange student who’d made such a big splash in the Devildom and was particularly close to his idol, Lord Diavolo.

He looked at the tree and the lights you’d hung around it. He looked at the coffin-shaped bookshelf and the books on it when he noticed some were hidden behind the rest.

He glanced at the door to make sure you weren’t about to walk in and quickly walked to the bookshelf.

The books in front were normal, or at least normal for someone who’s just had the existence of demons confirmed to them.

Books like Paradise Lost, The Book of Enough, and the Screwtape Letters made him roll his eyes. He also observed the collection of magic books.

“They’ve gotten pretty far in their studies already…” he mumbled when you walked into the room with the tray of tea, iced water, and a giant pot of sugar for Mephistopheles to sweeten his tea as much as he liked.

He grinned and straightened up.

“Oh! Looking at my books?” You beamed and walked over to show him in more detail.

He nodded, glancing at the ones in the back. As you bent over to show him some on the bottom shelf he noticed the first part of a title and immediately took interest, pulling it out.

“Hm?” He hummed before turning red and trying to hide the book quickly before you noticed but instead, he knocked most of the books over.

He quickly used his body to shield you as the top shelf came out of place and fell.

“Ack!” You gasped in surprise, pinned beneath Mephistopheles who was bright red.

“Thank you!” You said, scooting away from him. “Why are you so red?” You questioned when you noticed your secret book stash all around you.

“I-uh-um—“ Mephistopheles stuttered looking around at the titles.

You blushed but decided to tease him. “What? Like you don’t have anything similar?”

He straightened his collar and began reading the titles since it appeared to him you didn’t mind.

“Reincarnated as the Villain: An Archdemon Fell in Love With Me…The Wealthiest Demon in the Land Bought Me!… The Lustful Whims of the Rich Demon Noble…” he eyed you, both of your faces red. “These are rather specific…though I suppose it means you aren’t afraid of us, which is…” he lost his train of thought, unable to focus as he rightfully assumed you had a thing for rich demons and had invited him to your room.

“Er-um…” he stuttered looking at you.

“Wh-Why don’t we proceed to the interview…the tea is getting cold too…” you suggested, desperate to fill the silence.

He nodded and looked away nervously, “Did you really invite me here…for an interview?” He questioned and you turned an even deeper shade of red.

“If so…then yes, let us proceed. If not…then what exactly did you have in mind? I suppose I could indulge you…as long as it remains a secret.”

Barbatos

“Oh my,” you hear Barbato’s chuckle as he helps tidy your room.

You were bent over a stack of old notebooks you found when you turned around and your eyes widened in horror.

He was looking at your forbidden bookshelf! You forgot he mentioned he was going to dust every surface in the room. Of course, that also meant the books you hid behind the more innocent ones.

Barbatos gave you an amused look and showed you the manga in his hand as you tried to stutter an excuse.

“My, my ___. Is this the sort of thing you like?”

“I-uh—“ Before you could answer him he began to pull each book out and setting them in a small pile on your desk.

“The Sadistic Butler…I Want to Train You and Break You: Black Butler’s Sadistic Service…” You turned redder as he read every title. Barbatos was the last person you needed to see these.

He continued, the amusement in his voice more evident with each title he read, “Lady and the Butler, Would You Care for a Butler?, The Sinful Evening Affair With a Butler…” he smiled at you, chuckling to himself. When he saw how flushed you were he bowed his head apologetically.

“My apologies, ___. I didn’t mean to be invasive,” he paused and tilted his head. “I do wonder though…did you start reading things like this before or after meeting me…?”

You blushed but gave him an honest answer. “uh…I’ve kinda always had a thing for butlers…and demons…”

His smile widened, “Oh?”

“B-But I didn’t start collecting until more recently…I guess?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. You were shocked with yourself you were admitting this and anxious about his reaction.

Barbatos instead finished dusting the shelf and your heart sank. No reaction was worse than anything at all.

“Um…” you said fidgeting, unable to get back to cleaning up.

He glanced your way as he shelved your books again. This team he quickly glimpsed through one and his face turned a dark pink.

“Oh my…no wonder you turned so red?” He surmised and you hid your face.

He put the book back in its place, set down his duster, and approached you as you sat at the end of your bed.

You looked up as he placed his hands on your shoulders. The look in his eyes was unfamiliar to you, a rare look across the demon’s face. His horns grew from his head and his tail from his spine, flicking back and forth.

“I think we’ve cleaned enough for now…how about I reward your hard work? I can take a guess as to what you’d most enjoy.” He said in a low voice, his hot breath against your ear.

You gave a small nod, and with your confirmation, he pushed you back into the bed.

Diavolo

It was bound to come out eventually, you just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Unfortunately for you, Diavolo was a very observant man so the moment he came into your room his eyes were scanning the premises.

“Make yourself at home,” you grinned and he nodded and thanked you.

You went to the kitchen quickly to grab some tea. Barbatos had taught you how to prepare it best for him.

When you recentered your room with tea you saw Diavolo stifling an amused laugh with a book in his hand.

You quickly set the tray of tea down and caught his attention.

“Oh, hehe, thank you,” he chuckled and instead of grabbing his tea, he went back to observing the books on your shelf.

That’s when you realize you made the grave mistake of not hiding the manga you most enjoyed.

“W-What’s so funny?” You asked nervously, knowing full well why he was so entertained.

“Oh, I’m just looking through to see what sort of manga you enjoy…I have to say it’s rather interesting…” he gave you a sly look and went back to laughing to himself.

He shelved the last book and skimmed over the rest.

“These always have such long titles…I honestly thought Levi was just describing the manga for the longest time, but it seems it’s like this in the human world too,” he noted.

He grinned, coming across another interesting title, “Ooh, what’s this one.”

You quickly darted to his side hoping he wouldn’t open up any of them. After all, they’d been wrapped when you bought them for a very good reason.

“Hey, uh-“ you quickly tried grabbing the manga but he held it over his head and laughed as you jumped to try and reach it, just to fall into his large chest.

Diavolo normally didn’t tease you to this degree so you knew he was very invested in this as he began reading aloud some of the titles on the shelf.

“Let’s see…oh here’s another good one! Reincarnated Into A Game World Where The Demon King Who Kidnapped Me Wants To Do Me All Night Long… oh look, this seems interesting too— The Reincarnated Saint Falls for the Demon Lord? When I Reincarnated I Was Doted on by the Demon King… oh look this one is even more to the point! Entwined at Twilight with a Demon: Again… And Again… He Can’t Be Stopped! AHAHAHAHA!” Diavolo’s laughter filled your room as you turned redder than his hair.

“___, I’m curious…you seem to have such a deep fascination with the ones involving Demon Kings in particular…” he grinned mischievously, “is there perhaps a reason for that?”

You blushed but wanted to fill the silence and blurted out what you were thinking before you fully realized what you were asked, “And if there was?”

He looks surprised for a moment but his eyes quickly glazed over with longing. “Then…maybe I’d have to do something about it, wouldn’t I?”

Your heart beat wildly as he set the book down and approached you with heavy steps.

“So, ___? Let’s say we bring one of your fascinating books to life?”

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me drabble #obey me writings #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me Raphael #obey me mephistopheles #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me mephistopheles x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me Raphael x reader #obey me Simeon x reader #obey me nsfwish #omnsfwish #omnsfw

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saintshadow · 2 months ago

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What are you known for?

General, work, & social media rep 🫶🏻👻

pile i

Your GENERAL reputation is definitely very spiritual hahaa I was listening to the song I channeled for this pile which is Pyro by Denzel curry and right as I was typing that first sentence he said "i am the oracle i been known what's in store for you" Perhaps y'all make a lot of predictions or estimations that end up coming true. You could be a psychic or a reader of some kind- I sense Virgo and Pisces energy here. Most people do find you to be pretty fair- but others find you to be immature and aggressive or egotistical.

I feel like you're lowkey a bit chaotic- a lot of people see you as a wise feminine energy or a woman who has many secrets or knows many secrets. You could be known for being fairly nonchalant- like you may have dissenting people or opinions or haters and you genuinely are either unaware of them or don't give enough of a fuck to give it time.

You stay in your lane and focus on building yourself up, you could be very detached from distractions. work:

You could be seen as someone with a lot of room to succeed in your career, you could be very informed- very methodical or very logical. You're steady and thorough in your approach and you are very engaged in ensuring that things are managed accurately and properly. People could be eyeing you for a promotion of some kind- I see that you may be known for solving conflict or for calming conflict. Like you're capable of quelling the discordance in other people. You could work customer service, be a team lead, assistant manager, shift leader, etc- Whatever you do you're definitely trailblazing and I love that for you. I'm getting a message that your boss doesn't give out a lot of compliments but he does notice your work. He may compliment you or give you some kind of notice soon regarding the quality of your work. If he seems hard it is because he sees your room for improvement. You may be very proud of your work, and you may also be a bit disorganized- even in spite of that disorganization they do feel that you have a special skill or talent. I keep hearing "quality" I feel like you're being considered for something or by someone. Disregard negativity from others at work, and ignore gossip. People can say and do whatever they want, but it's not your business or problem if they want to be miserable.

social media:

There are like varying reputations that you have online- I assume this is based on the experiences people have had with you ofc. In the center of the spread is the Emperor- so you are definitely seen as either an authority, perhaps you're older or you sit powerfully in your position.

Diet by Denzel curry is playing. I feel like a lot of y'all are very authentic, you stand in your square and you may not really care how people feel about you. Some people could see you as destitute, lacking, immature, and having a large dream- or they could see you as someone who in spite of having a difficult past you've gone on a journey to achieve your dreams. It feels like probably both lol. People could find you moody or erratic online, others also see you as being very secure, happy, thriving, and feel that your judgments are very positive, accurate, or helpful. Some people could see you as fake, or see you as private. Like you don't deal with groups of people, a lot of you may be quick to remove yourself from group scenarios in general. You could be very passionate, intelligent, witty, and loving. You definitely like a good verbal spar, and can sometimes be a bit TOO aggressive.

pile ii

your GENERAL reputation could be tied to a romantic connection or a friendship that you walked away from or broke off- Sooo perhaps this happened recently or it was a massive breaking of connection that has still remained part of your reputation. You're viewed as fairly balanced and understanding, you give people a lot of chances but aren't overly compassionate in your expression. You're probably an air sign LMFAO, I see that you may also be known for your kindness or generosity or for the fact others are highly generous towards you. Someone could be a streamer? I see here that you also are known for your ability to create your desires as you go, like you really just charge after what you want and bring it to yourself fairly quickly lol.

work:

You could be a manager or a boss- or you could have an opinion that matters at work. I feel like you're the person people bring irate customers to, and you do NOT play. You definitely stand up for people no matter if the customer or coworker is in the wrong. You are very honest & truthful even if it's an unpopular opinion, you could also be someone who is known to get to the bottom of issues. You gather Intel easily and you've definitely got a few tricks up your sleeve socially. Some could see you as manipulative or self serving, they could feel like your kind demeanor is fake and only used so that you can gather more information. Which isn't entirely untrue- but it also isn't because you're looking to fuck people over, you're just practical. You like things to be fair, truthful, balanced, and you may like to run a tight ship. Or perhaps your boss runs a tight ship and YOU stand up against your boss when others won't. Other co-workers could see you as reliable because you will speak up with others are scared or when they don't know what to say.

social media:

You could have a friend group you post with a lot? I see people viewing you as paranoid, disinterested, detached, and maybe going through something difficult? People could feel like you don't find love or happiness to be unattainable. "a negative phase" I feel like other people could find that you post about your shortcomings or unhappiness frequently. You could also be very aggressive or defensive, you could be very jittery, and very bored or displeased. You could also be known for being very connected with your family and defensive with your family. Or your family could somehow be known or popular on social media? Even if it isn't fame it could be like Facebook for example haha. You could be very funny, witty, or charming- maybe you are always onto the next thing or next trend.

pile iii

your GENERAL reputation could be that you're REALLY attractive- maybe that you spend a lot of money on your looks? Some people could know you for having plastic surgery, Botox, filler, etc? Some people could speak about you or talk about you editing photos or not looking the same irl? People could also say that you only really focus on your physical appearance online. BTW IM NOT HATING, this is just what people think/how they view you. You're seen as very pretty, and very abundant. You could make spicy content or post nsfw, some people could feel like you will take their significant other from them. People feel that you don't post your struggles online, and that you're very private. You could be prideful, or you could have a very solid image. Even if there are hardships or difficulties you've experienced, you definitely keep it pushing and always succeed. People could see you as very dreamy, relaxed, and maybe low energy. Some of you could have chronic illness or fatigue. Those who know you know that you are very private & very low key.

Work:

In times of trouble or need you will absolutely get shit done, you don't let anxiety or fear keep you from getting to the bag or finding a solution. People feel safe and protected by you at work, like they know you will defend them behind their back or that even if you don't like them you won't leave them hanging. You're a true leader behind the scenes though, this is giving virgo energy. You don't want to be at the forefront, you like to manage the intracacies and details. You do the dirty work a lot of the time. People at work could feel like you prefer to be alone, and that you could even be a bit of an anxious person or an overthinker. You could also be known for crashing out or have a reputation for a particular time you lost your temper. You are not afraid to rain hell when people are doing shit they shouldn't be doing. You like to keep the peace and make sure everyone is well taken care of but you require for them to do their part otherwise you will absolutely NOT go easy on them. You could be a bubble burster, you could also sometimes be unnecessarily petty in some people's eyes at times.

Social Media:

You could be seen as having a darker aesthetic, you may also post taboo things or misleading things. Very trickster energy, like you almost enjoy throwing people off. You have VERY good taste, and you post small crumbs of it. You have a very esoteric or ethereal vibe to people online, idk why I'm channeling mitski haha. You could also be someone who's cutting edge with trends. People could see you as very devoted to your partner or lover, they could also see you as someone who is a hard worker and holds on through difficult times. You may be very witty, timeless, and fiery at times. You definitely have a veryyy unique and likeable vibe. It feels like you're very well liked on social media, and that people look forward to your posts. You're iconic, your socials could be very pristine and well put together. The aesthetic could be very consistent or meshes well with your personality. You could treat your social media like an art piece, very particular with how you curate everything.

#tarot community #tarot online #tarot reading #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #pac tarot #pick a picture #tarot

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astrologydray · 4 months ago

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The Shady/Bitchy side of each moon sign

Moon in Aries ♈️:

Very much hot heads in the moment, then act like nothing happened five minutes later🙄

“Me first, feelings later” head ahh Their emotions take priority, and they can bulldoze others without realizing (or caring).

Even in casual situations, they have to win, and if they don’t, they get salty fast.

If they don’t like you (or even if they do), they’ll say the harshest truth with zero sugarcoating.

If they feel unappreciated or ignored, expect passive-aggressive mood swings disguised as independence🤣.

Moon in Taurus ♉️:

If you piss them off, they won’t yell—they’ll just pretend you don’t exist, maybe Forever to 😭.

Once they claim something (or someone), good luck getting them to share or let go. Possessive & Stubborn as Hell.

They won’t waste energy on just anything, but if it’s about proving a point? They’re on it😫.

If they don’t like you, expect side-eye about your outfit, job, or bank account very much shady Materialistically.

They might not say it out loud, but their face will definitely tell you what they think😐.

Moon in Gemini ♊️:

Cliched, but They’ll talk sh*t about you, then smile in your face like nothing happened. Very much two faced 🤷🏾‍♂️.

They can flip from “I love you” to “Who are you again?” with zero effort.

Their insults are fast, witty, and so clever that you won’t even process the shade until later.

They collect gossip like it’s currency and will use it to their advantage😫.

One minute, they’re your best friend; the next, they’re ghosting you for something more interesting. Inconsistent Energy .

Moon in Cancer ♋️:

They get way too invested in people’s lives and feel personally betrayed if you don’t do what they expect.

Will act innocent and shocked when called out, because they would never!🤣

They’ll cry, vent, or act like the victim, even when they were the problem.

They might forgive, but they’ll never forget (and they will bring it up again).

Expect moody silences, heavy sighs, and “I just think it’s funny how…” energy🥲.

Moon in Leo ♌️:

“Omg, I love how you don’t care what people think of your outfit!” Y’all give backhanded compliments.

If you don’t hype them up enough, they’ll subtly (or not-so-subtly) undermine you🫠.

They’ll act like they’re being humble, but the flex is always right there.

If they’re not the center of attention, they will find a way to redirect the spotlight.

Their emotional outbursts are theatrical, and you will be their audience.

Moon in Virgo ♍️:

They’ll find that one tiny flaw and make sure you never forget it.

“I’m just trying to help!” (while tearing you apart with unsolicited advice).

They act superior by staying “calm” while you look messy.

They’ll shade you while acting like they’re just “being practical.”

If they’ve done anything for you, expect to hear about it forever.

Moon in Libra ♎️:

Smiling in your face, but dragging you in private (or to their other friend group) like Gemini moons y’all be two faced 🤷🏾‍♂️.

Pretends to be neutral but definitely stirs the pot behind the scenes.

Charm is their weapon, and they know how to use it.

If you throw off their vibe, they’ll quietly fade out of your life without a word.

Will ruin you socially if you embarrass them in public😭.

Moon in Scorpio ♏️:

Forgiveness? Never heard of it. They will get their revenge.

They won’t argue—they’ll just stare at you with a look that kills your soul👁️👄👁️.

If you betray them, they’ll cut you off so coldly you’ll question if they ever cared.

Plays it cool, but behind the scenes, they always have the upper hand🤫.

They know your weak spots and will hit them where it hurts if you cross them.

Moon in Sagittarius ♐️:

They’ll say the most offensive thing and then act confused when you get mad.

Will debate you into exhaustion just to prove a point😵‍💫.

Will drop a chaotic take, watch the drama unfold, and then leave the chat.

If you’re too emotional, they’ll hit you with, “Ugh, can we not do this right now?”

Acts like they’re above petty drama but somehow always involved.

Moon in Capricorn ♑️:

If they’re mad at you, expect zero reaction. They’ll just act like you don’t exist.

Every insult is strategic and meant to hit exactly where it hurts🧠.

They will find a way to have the upper hand in any situation.

If they don’t respect you, they’ll make sure you feel it.

They won’t say it outright, but their face will definitely let you know you’re beneath them.

Moon in Aquarius ♒️:

They’ll hurt your feelings and then genuinely not understand why you’re upset.

“I’m just being objective” (as they completely invalidate your emotions).

They hate being told what to do and will do the opposite on purpose.

Will talk to you like you’re slow if you don’t see things their way😐.

If you confront them, expect a shrug and a “whatever” instead of an actual response.

Moon in Pisces ♓️:

Instead of confronting problems, they’ll just ghost and act wounded.

They rewrite reality to fit their feelings, even if it makes zero sense.

“I guess I just care too much” (while making you feel awful).

Acts forgiving, but months later will bring up how you ruined their life.

If confronted, they’ll cry or act confused until you end up apologizing.

#astro notes #astrology #birth chart #astro observations #astro community #astrology observations #astrology community #astro #astroblr #astrologyposts #astrology content #astrology insights

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graves-yard · 16 days ago

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Happy pride month to these two lmao

In order to keep my promise, I had written a little Drabble on my fankids, specifically about Bullet and Poly since that won the first poll. I also think it would be fun to draw a comic page of them too so I did that!!

Written context is belowwww

Maybe it was a little ironic the situation Bullet has found himself in, but it was his fault for trying to chase after a cliche. He wanted nothing more than to live up to his parents legacy and follow in their footsteps. He thought the best way to do that was to find a competitive rival of his own!

Poly, on paper, would have been a perfect fit for a rival. They were the strong and mysterious silent type to Bullet’s funny and cocky hero type. And with their own legacy of being the adopted child of his father’s robotic counterpart, that bred well for a good battle of witty comebacks and heated competition.

Except Poly wasn’t the type to do that at all. In fact—despite their perfect origins—they were the worst person to have a rivalry with.

Bullet was a bit of an overachiever. He had already daydreamed and planned for this frenemy type relationship with Poly before he had even met them. When he was young, he heard many hushed conversations from his parents and their friends about schemes that Eggman and Metal Sonic were planning, talks of a child his age being involved. He remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between his father and Amy about a kid she was taking care of. She had seemed a little concerned that the Robotnik influence could rub off on them.

Since then, Bullet had been a little obsessed with them. It embarrasses him to this day the amount of daydreams and badly made drawings of this mysterious half-hedgehog-half-robot super rival he had thought up as a kid. All his childish drawings of their explosive battles did not live up to the expectations.

Maybe he should’ve guessed where this was gonna go if he was acting like that back then.

When Bullet first officially met Poly, he quickly decided that he would need to be the Sonic in the relationship, opposed to his anti-hero other father. Poly doesn’t speak. Their speech is only that of a normal, non-Mobian hedgehog. A couple chirps and snorts came from them occasionally, but for the most part, they were very, very quiet. From what Bullet knew of Sonic’s many rivals, they would best fit in the category of their own father, Metal. Which was obvious, of course.

He did his best to enact a rivalry that very first day, taunting and teasing the hedgeborg in a way that imitated his father almost perfectly, if it weren’t for the poor self confidence ruining most of his attempts.

Poly had not acknowledged him even once. They were focused on dragging a stick through the beach they resided on, hovering just slightly above the ground so as not to get sand in their leg gears. With the bundle of fur and quills that covered their eyes, you couldn’t really tell if they had reacted at all to his attempt at riling them up.

Bullet had kept trying to goad them on. Poking, prodding, running circles around them—careful of their mechanical limbs and not trying to kick up dirt—but nothing. Not even a twitch of their ears.

Just as he started to give up and began walking away, there was a soft thunk to the back of his head. He turned back around towards the hedgeborg.

First, he noticed the stick—that was definitely thrown at him—on the ground right in front of his feet.

Then, he noticed Poly was actually facing him. Closed lipped smile on their face, arms crossed over their knees. Clearly amused.

And finally, he noticed right in between them, circled in many shoeprints caused by his own chaotic running about, were three words written in the sand.

“Go away plz :)”

The punctuation clearly being Poly’s little smile, which might as well be a shit-eating grin that meant to mock and belittle him.

Bullet huffed, crossing his arms in embarrassment and scowling. The image was a striking reminder of who his other father was.

“Whatever. Fine,” he stumbled through his words, muzzle flushed by their blunt first words to him. “I have other people I can hang out with anyway! I was just trying to be nice.”

Poly chuffed, clearly laughing at him. Bullet felt even more heated by that. He left them in the sand to go back to his parents, arms still angrily crossed and huffing when he met up with them.

That was their first meeting, and he hadn’t stopped bugging them since. Bullet had wanted an even opponent, one that he could verbally spar and battle with like their parents did before. A frenemy relationship that kept them both on their toes and solidified that he was the son of Sonic and Shadow.

He didn’t really think their relationship would be more of an “Sonic-Amy” type deal, with him unexpectedly being the one with the obsessive crush.

#graves yard #my art #my writing #sth #sonic fanart #sonic fankid #pollet #yeah i made them a ship name whatever

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 9 months ago

Text

Crashed

Word count: 876

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Lando Norris' peaceful Sunday brunch with his girlfriend Y/n in Monaco quickly turns into chaotic fun

______________________________________________________________

Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/n, were enjoying a peaceful Sunday brunch at a cozy little café in Monaco. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings: the sun was shining, the coffee was strong, and they had no plans except to relax. Lando was mid-sip when his phone started buzzing incessantly on the table.

"Group chat," he mumbled, glancing down with a sigh. Y/n smirked knowingly. The Formula 1 drivers' group chat was infamous for being total chaos, and it seemed today would be no different.

Charles Leclerc: Oi, Lando! Where are you? We’re all in Monaco, and you’ve gone radio silent. You ghosting us or what?

George Russell: Bet he’s with Y/n. You know how he gets. Suddenly, we're not cool enough for him. It’s all brunch and romantic walks now.

Charles Leclerc: Right? Ever since he started dating Y/n, he's become so… couple-y.

George Russell: Proper couple vibes. They’re probably sitting there, sipping overpriced coffee, talking about feelings.

Lando smirked, typing back as Y/n giggled next to him.

Lando: Confirmed. We’re having a romantic brunch without you peasants.

Y/n leaned over, chuckling as the messages flooded in.

George Russell: Whipped. So whipped.

Max Verstappen: He probably ordered avocado toast. That’s peak Lando.

Lando let out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t even eat avocado toast!”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You literally had it last week.”

He shot her a look but couldn’t argue. Before he could come up with a witty comeback, more messages lit up the screen.

Carlos Sainz: Leave Lando alone. He’s probably just trying to enjoy some quality time with his girlfriend while you lot are sitting alone in your hotel rooms watching Netflix.

George Russell: How is that any worse than watching him awkwardly try to impress Y/n with random facts about coffee beans?

Pierre Gasly: Bet he told her something like: ‘Did you know this is a single-origin Ethiopian roast?’

Y/n burst into laughter. “Okay, that does sound like something you’d say.”

Lando’s eyes widened. “I don’t—well, okay, maybe once! But it was a fun fact!”

Suddenly, Carlos chimed in again.

Carlos Sainz: Real talk though, why wasn’t I invited to brunch? I’m in Monaco, too. You didn’t even text, bro.

Pierre Gasly: Same. Feel the betrayal. I’m coming to crash it. You owe me.

Lando quickly typed: Lando: Please don’t. Seriously, we’re fine. I’ll catch you later.

But it was too late. Y/n giggled as they saw Pierre’s typing bubble pop up again.

Pierre Gasly: Nah, I’m close. Be there in 10.

Lando groaned, throwing his phone on the table. “Of course, he’s coming.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pierre strolled into the café like he’d planned to be there all along. With zero hesitation, he sat across from Lando and Y/n, grabbed Lando’s plate, and took a huge bite of his toast.

“Are you serious?” Lando asked, glaring at him as Y/n laughed beside him.

Pierre grinned, chewing thoughtfully. “You didn’t invite me, so I invited myself. This is what you get.”

Y/n covered her face, laughing. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

Just as Lando opened his mouth to protest, his phone buzzed again.

George Russell: Wait for me. I'm on my way too. I can't miss this.

Charles Leclerc: Me too. Lando’s face must be priceless right now.

Y/n leaned over to read the messages and giggled. “You’re going to have the whole grid here by the end of brunch.”

As if on cue, George and Charles soon arrived, each pulling up chairs as if they were part of the original brunch plan. George waved casually as he slid into a seat.

“I told you,” George said, smirking. “You can’t have a romantic brunch without us. We’re like your annoying little brothers.”

Lando slumped in his chair. “This is not how I envisioned today going.”

Y/n chuckled. “You should’ve known. It’s never just ‘us’ when you’re involved.”

Carlos arrived next, holding up his hands like he was walking into a crime scene. “I didn’t want to intrude, but since everyone else is here…”

Lando shook his head, trying to contain a smile. “Of course, you’re here too.”

Carlos sat down and grabbed the menu. “So, what’s good here? You guys ordering pancakes?”

Finally, Max strolled in, looking entirely unsurprised by the chaos. He glanced around at the full table and shook his head. “This is why we can’t have nice things, Lando.” He grabbed Lando’s coffee without hesitation. “I’ll just take this.”

Lando threw up his hands in mock defeat as Y/n tried not to burst into laughter. The entire grid was now surrounding their table, chatting and making themselves at home. What was meant to be a quiet, romantic brunch had turned into a full-blown Formula 1 summit, with Y/n as the honorary member.

Charles grinned at Lando. “So, how’s your romantic Sunday brunch going now?”

Lando glanced around at the chaos, George making jokes, Pierre stealing more food, Carlos debating whether or not to order a mimosa, and Max texting under the table while sipping his coffee.

“Just perfect,” Lando deadpanned. “Exactly what I had in mind.”

Y/n squeezed his hand, smiling sweetly. “You love it.”

Lando sighed dramatically but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 1 year ago

Text

What Attracts Them [1]

Alastor

Vulnerability. If there is any weakness or fault in your self-concept, Alastor will pick up on it and try to exploit it to garner a connection with you. He’s not particularly fond of approaching someone without an ulterior motive in mind or solely because he finds you mildly interesting -among other sinners, that is. He needs leverage and uses whatever he can pry or observe about you to his advantage. Need protection? He’ll offer to guard you. Need financial support. He’ll hand over any amount you desire. As long as you either sell your soul or initiate loyalty to him, Alastor will proudly proclaim you his (property).

Alastor is wildly addicted to dual-sided sinners. The pure joy he gets from seeing you go from being sweet, shy, and agreeable to bloodthirsty, witty, and downright stubborn gets him going. You don’t often get that way unless it’s to put someone in their place or to show how protective you are of him -even if he’s far more powerful than you in every way. Still, when you do, his grin stretches wider than usual, and he’ll constantly try to encourage your violent behavior out into the open after the fact.

He’s got a massive thing for motherly types. Partly because he is a momma’s boy but mostly because he is very prone to being taken care of, as much as he’ll deny needing anyone’s help. What overlord would willingly say they like having their ears petted, antlers touched, or hair messed with by the one they love? None. And he won't be the first. You can always do the simplest things too: helping Charlie around the hotel, giving angel advice (even if he doesn’t use it), or running around with Nifty trying to help her catch bugs strikes a nerve in the stag he can't ignore. Seeing you tend to others makes him incredibly hot-blooded. It gives him more motive and excuses to breed you later on.

Dancing. He loves to trot around his room late at night with you. Soft jazz or swing music playing from him keeps a smile on your face as he leads you through various steps, effortlessly twirling you around the room and addicted to hearing you giggle softly anytime he sweeps you off your feet. He was a phenomenal dancer while alive, and that fact hasn’t changed in death. You will either have to learn from him or already be light on your feet when Alastor decides to ask you for a dance.

Alastor doesn’t mind having a chaotic partner but values a higher level of ‘obedience’ from them. If you aren’t the type to make a deal with the stag and he can’t convince you to do so, he’ll settle for an almost toxic form of companionship. What he says goes, and if you put up a fight, he’s not above reinforcing his command. Physically or emotionally. No one has ever called the Radio Demon fair, and they’ll never have a chance to. He does enjoy your stubborn fits occasionally, though….they make it so much more fun for him when he has to break you into submission again.

Overprotectiveness. He’s got a bad habit of practically stalking you whenever you’re away from him, but you have quite a temper when he’s put in a vulnerable position. This doesn’t happen often, though. For instance, his brawl with Adam enraged you to want to skin the angel alive. Luckily, Nifty and Lucifer got to know him before you did. Alastor adores it when you hiss at sinners who stare at him a little too long and can’t help but smile wider when you flash him an innocent look right after. You’re smaller and much more prone to be hurt, but you’ll still claw someone’s eyes out for him…yeah he’s never going to let you go.

Alastor isn’t very touchy but delights in invading others' personal space, so having an overly clingy partner would annoy him. You learn he appreciates acts of service more than anything else and is pleased to see what you do for him—keeping his room and Radio Tower tidy even if they’re usually clean and straightening out his bow tie if it’s crooked, bringing him raw meat after a long day of running errands, or even slipping into his room at night to sleep even if he’s wide awake himself just because you ‘miss him.’ It's all so trivial, small things you get used to doing, but meaningful to him nonetheless. He returns the favor in the best ways he can think of. Praise, gifts, making you cum until you can't think straight… You're such a sweetheart, and he can't help showing you bits of gratitude.

Lucifer

A sucker for the cliche type of love. Running into you while on a stroll, seeing how clumsy you can be right off the bat, and feeling obligated to help poor little you make Lucifer giddy. You don’t mainly get why he’s so infatuated with you at first sight, but having the attention of Hell's King is flattering. Your friendliness is what pulls the devil in like a magnet at first. He wonders how you ended up in Hell even though you’re lovely and genuine. He finds kinship with those out of place because he fell from heaven for the same reason. In his opinion, you stand out amongst other sinners by being less of one.

Confidence. Whatever vanity you have, Lucifer drowns in it. Your looks, talents, and impression on others…if it’s all done with a sense of pride, he can’t get enough of it. His drug is seeing the smug look on your face when you make him beg for attention. When you want something from him and know you’ll get it if you ask, that glint in your eye sends the devil spiraling to his knees. You don’t have to be obnoxious about it either; quiet as a mouse hanging onto his arm as he walks about, he’ll, with a slight smirk of delight on your face when people stare at you, stroke his ego more than anything else could. You’re his prize, and he’s glad you’re proud.

Curiosity. You are asking him questions, getting him to talk, or even rambling about what’s on your mind, which comforts Lucifer. It reminds him of his time in heaven, being able to express his thoughts to those who’d listen, and you tend to do the same, which excites the fallen angel. He enjoys explaining things to you, deconstructing complex concepts to see your bright eyes light up with wonder, and the oh-so-sweet smile you give him during long, in-depth conversations eases his heart. The pure excitement on your face when he shows or explains something new to you is contagious. You’re too cut to be left clueless.

Touchiness. Lucifer is very prone to clingy behavior and sees nothing wrong with that. He likes your attention on him. Physical touch is his favored love language, and sharing it with you comes naturally. You often sit in his lap, play with his hair, pet his wings, and cuddle. He can’t get enough of it. He shudders when you’re all over him, pining for a kiss he can’t resist giving to you and whining for another right after he gives in. His hands never wholly leave you, and yours always find a way to bring him in close again.

Creativity. He’s drawn in by those who have an eye for the arts. It doesn’t matter what your interest maybe if it’s a form of expression for you; Lucifer tends to admire it. He’ll go as far as researching facts about the subject/hobbies to impress you with his knowledge and actively participate in the activity. You don’t mind him joining in, happily spending time with him more often, and appreciative that he puts so much effort into learning about something you love to do.

Reliance. Not in the sense that you’re utterly helpless without him but more so that he likes to be needed even for the most minor things. Being unable to help or fulfill another’s wishes irks Lucifer. He embodies pride, and feeling useless damages him a lot more than other things. He’s very attentive and soft-spoken even when agitated with you, and he genuinely does his best to do anything you ask of him. Once you become his, the world (alive or dead) is yours for the taking. He hates it when you brush him off to do something on your own, so you’re bound to let him tag along with whatever you do to keep him busy. He doesn't intrude if it's too severe of a boundary for you, but he can't help but want to take care of you with the utmost diligence.

Brattiness/Sassiness. Lucifer can't understand why he's attracted to a sharp tongue and an even colder attitude (which only occurs when you're upset with him), but he loves every second of it. Sometimes hell does or says things on purpose to piss you off and get your focus back on him. Other times, if you're already in a sour mood, he’ll suggest you take that anger out on him. He's noticed a pattern of you using stress as an excuse for him to fuck your brains out, and he's not mad about it. If making you break down into tears underneath, thanking him for fucking the bitchiness right of you after the edge of another high slowly wears off helps you in any way….Lucifer won't hesitate to participate. He wants to see you happy, but he loves the minor spats of aggression you have, like every other sinner in his domain. Though, you don't get very cutthroat as much as the majority does.

New filler posts because sometimes I have random ideas and need a break from writing a series. ❤️

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loveunt0ld · 11 days ago

Text

all my affection — lee minho

distance makes the heart grow fonder… right? except, for minho, it also made him extremely homesick. oh how he craves to be with you again. he wants to love you, and be loved by you.

a/n: i wrote this while listening to calum’s new album! this song is what inspired this minho piece. divider is from @uzmacchiato! i hope you enjoy ♡

another long day you thought. you trudged your way up the stairs of your shared apartment with minho. the house you two shared was everything you could hope for. it only lacked one thing, him.

minho had been overseas on tour for about a month now, with only a couple more days before you could see him again. time always seemed so cruel during his long periods of absence.

it was moments like this when the presence of your boyfriend was missed. his scent clung to just about everything you could think of. it was on the clothes he’d left behind, on his side of the bed, on the couch… it even lingered in the kitchen (maybe you just really missed his cooking too.)

the nights dragged on longer than they should have and your days were spent looking at the clock, hoping minho would come back faster as the time ticked. home didn’t feel like home when either of you was gone.

perhaps you were just being dramatic. you were more than capable of functioning without minho, but it wasn’t that you needed him for a particular reason. you missed him. you craved his warmth, his voice, his laughter, his mannerisms. you missed the things that made minho, him.

you felt soonie rub against your leg, a simple action to break you out of your trance. not realizing you were spacing out, you looked down to find soonie staring at you. he lets out a cry for help. in his case, a meow which alerts you that they’re hungry.

“what would i do without you soonie?” you ask while picking him up from the ground. now if soonie could talk, he’d probably have some witty response. something that would make him sound a lot like minho.

you finish feeding soonie, doongie and dori when you feel your phone start to vibrate in your back pocket. you look to down to see the words “cat lover ♡” staring right at you. your minho. you answered the phone with an urgency, too scared that the call would end before you could hear him.

you bring the phone to your ear. all you hear is a commotion over on his end, thinking he maybe butt dialed you. however, you hear your name before you pull away. “y/n-ah? baby? can you hear me? i know it’s sort of loud.” minho asks, while trying to keep his loving tone despite the fact that he’s almost shouting.

“yes min, i can hear you. it sounds like you’re super busy right now though. why didn’t you call later?” you question him back, hoping that calling you wasn’t a chore for him.

he sighs before answering, clearly exasperated with the chaotic background but not with you. never with you. “we go on soon and i just needed to hear your voice is all.” minho says, voice sounding a bit defeated, a little distant even.

you still. “is everything ok baby?” you ask, voice feigning concern for the way he sounds. your heart felt heavy for the boy who’s usually never too nervous before shows. despite how loud the background is, minho’s silence is even louder. what’s gotten into him.. you wonder.

“i miss you. and the kids obviously. but i miss you the most. you know that i love what i do,” you nod while listening to him, as if you are physically in front of him, “it’s just.. i can’t help but count down the hours, minutes, even seconds until i can see you again.” minho confesses, whispering as if he was telling you a secret.

his vulnerability with you has always been so beautiful. he interacts with so many people on a day to day basis but not many can truly see him like this. you let him be weak, you let him be who he was meant to be. life was familiar for him with you by his side.

you stayed silent for a second—you just wanted to bask in minho’s words. his feelings. then your thoughts started running, faster than you could catch them. “minho, you’ll be back home before you know it,” you whispered while swallowing the lump in your throat, “no matter how much i want you to come back.. your tour will be over before you know it.” you explained while sounding defeated.

on the other end, minho closed his eyes. the tears he tried so hard to hold back had slipped before he could stop them. distance was your biggest enemy when it came to him touring. he knew that, you knew that. but being away from you for so long took more of a toll on him than he’d like to admit.

minho had something that made him so weak in the knees and he didn’t know how to be without it—without you. when he first started to harbor feelings for you, it scared him bad. until then, he didn’t know that caring for someone could be this beautiful.

the silence carried on from both ends. you continued, “the second you come back home, ill be right there. waiting for you with my arms wide open. you don’t have to say anything, you can just run to me.” you said, wanting nothing more than to comfort his aching heart.

minho found himself feeling grounded from your words. his entire being knew peace because of you. “i’ll run to you, just like i always do.” he responds with a slight smile forming on his lips. oh how he wishes he could kiss you. “my heart fluttered just now by the way. how do you make loving me sound so easy y/n…” minho adds on, clearly fighting back the urge to giggle through his ongoing tears.

“you make it easy minho. there’s no maybes with you because i know what it is with you. i feel the most alive when i get to love you, just like this.” you comment, your smile growing as you think of him.

“all that i am belongs to you. i love you y/n.. more than words can describe.” minho declares, signing an unspoken contract that states he is yours until the end of time, if you’ll have him. and you? you’d find him in every lifetime, just so you can fall in love with him over and over again.

“i love you for each eternity i get to spend with you, minho.” you state, voice filled with a joy that can only be felt between the two of you. “hurry up and finish your tour so i can kiss you again min.” you added on after your confession.

“i’d drop everything and take the next flight to you. maybe i should…” minho contemplates aloud, hoping you’ll try to convince him to do so. your laugh on the other end of the lines causes him to also laugh.

“i don’t think chan would like that idea very much min. but you’re cute for trying. we’ll wait it out like we always do—soon enough we’ll be together again.” you state. it was always going to be you two. nothing could ever change that.

“yeah.. soon, my love.” minho says, finalizing the promise of seeing each other soon. you never needed much, but minho always gave you everything. he gave you the barest parts of his soul and for that you couldn’t thank him enough.

lifetimes won’t ever be enough time with you the two of you think to yourselves, not wanting to fill the comfortable silence. the two of you had nothing to lose except all the love and affection you two had for each other. loving each other was just so easy.

distance was always hard, but you two always found your way around it. even if some times were harder than others. it was just minho and yourself against the world.

#lee know scenarios #lee know #stray kids lee know #lee know imagines #lee know blurbs #skz lee know #stray kids minho #lee minho imagines #lee minho scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz minho #stray kids fluff

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pankowcrumbs · 15 days ago

Text

Just friends X Will Poulter

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

It all started with a film. Not a love story, ironically but a sharp, witty drama-comedy called Chalk Lines, about a mismatched group of former sixth form friends reuniting after ten years for the wedding of one of their own. I played Lena, the opinionated, caffeine-addicted teacher with a tendency to monologue. Will Poulter played Jamie, a hopeless romantic with a dry sense of humour and a slight hero complex. Our characters weren’t love interests just longtime mates with an unshakable bond.

Still, from the second week on set, everyone, and I mean everyone, was convinced Will and I were secretly dating.

It started with a photo someone snapped behind the monitors me laughing at something Will had whispered in my ear while we waited for a lighting setup. Then came the fan edits. We were tagged in dozens of them clips of us bantering in rehearsals, walking to set side by side, sharing a snack off camera all cut to soft indie tracks and “Just Friends?” captions in bold.

At first, it was funny. Then... we just stopped fighting it.

Not the relationship because there wasn’t one. But the narrative. We leaned into the chaos, replying to fan comments with a united front of sarcasm and deadpan humour.

So when our press day rolled around cast interviews, panels, red carpet nonsense we knew what was coming. The fans had been relentless for months. Every interviewer seemed contractually obliged to ask about “Jamie and Lena’s chemistry off screen,” followed by a knowing look at us.

On this particular morning, we were on a panel interview for The Film Room, joined by the rest of our Chalk Lines cast Jonathan Bailey, who played the soon-to-be groom, India Amarteifio as the no-nonsense bridesmaid, Thomas Brodie-Sangster as the chaotic ex, and Aimee Lou Wood as the wildcard cousin.

And we all got on like a house on fire. I mean truly group chats, pub nights, silly traditions. The kind of friendships that outlive the shoot.

“Right,” said the interviewer, Sophie, flipping open her notes with a grin. “You lot clearly adore each other. So, before we even talk about Chalk Lines, can we address the elephant in the room?”

Will and I exchanged a glance.

“Which elephant would that be, Sophie?” he asked, smoothing out his shirt collar.

“The one wearing matching Converse trainers and allegedly sharing oat milk lattes every morning?”

I looked down at our feet. “Damn. Busted.”

The cast burst into laughter.

“Come on, we all see it,” Jonathan said, raising an eyebrow. “You two have more chemistry than the whole film industry combined.”

“I mean,” Aimee chimed in, “the way you argue over whose flat has better snacks? If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Thomas leaned forward dramatically. “I’ve shared scenes with Y/N. I’ve never seen her look at me the way she looks at Will when he steals her crisps.”

India was already scrolling through her phone. “Hang on, let me find this edit I saw the other day had me in tears. Slow-mo footage of you two hugging between takes with Iris playing in the background.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Will said solemnly. “That someone took the time to edit the moment I choked on a grape into a romantic montage.”

“I wasn’t hugging you,” I pointed out. “I was trying to do the Heimlich.”

“Same energy,” he shrugged.

Sophie laughed. “So just to confirm, nothing’s going on?”

“Nothing but deep-seated emotional dependence,” I said.

“And a mutual Spotify playlist,” Will added.

“God, you’re impossible,” I muttered under my breath, nudging his knee with mine.

He smirked. “Takes one to know one.”

The rest of the interview went about as well as expected. Any time the subject veered toward plot or production, one of the cast would sneak in a joke about our supposed secret love affair. Even the serious questions turned into comedy.

“What was the most challenging scene to film?” Sophie asked.

“The one where Lena had to slap Jamie,” I said. “Because I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“She’s lying,” Will said. “She asked for multiple takes.”

“Only because you kept laughing!”

Jonathan added, “And that wasn’t even a scene. That was just during lunch.”

Eventually, Sophie wrapped it up with a cheeky smile. “Well, thank you all for your time. And thank you, Will and Y/N, for giving fans endless material for their fanfics.”

We stood, the laughter still bubbling. Will offered me his hand and helped me out of my chair like some 1950s gentleman.

“That was chaos,” I said, once we were backstage, away from the lights.

“Lovely chaos, though,” he replied. “They’re not wrong, you know.”

“About us being in love?”

He gave a cheeky smile. “About us being best mates. Can’t imagine having done this film without you.”

I nudged his shoulder. “Same.”

We didn’t need to clear anything up. There were no secret relationships, no drama behind the scenes. Just two people who got incredibly lucky working on a film that brought together six idiots who genuinely cared about one another.

Maybe fans would never stop speculating. Maybe someone was already editing today’s interview into a new TikTok with “Can’t Help Falling in Love” playing underneath.

The plan was simple. A group dinner with the cast nothing out of the ordinary. We’d done it a hundred times since the press tour started. We'd meet at some trendy place in Soho, argue over the menu, and laugh until our cheeks hurt. No alarms went off in my brain when Jonathan texted, “Dinner tonight? Everyone’s in.”

“Looking forward to it,” I replied, shoving my phone in my pocket, completely unaware of the plot about to unfold.

Will and I arrived first. Typical. We were always a bit early me because I hate being late, and Will because he’s secretly the most punctual man alive, even if he pretends to be all cool and casual about it.

"Guess we’re the first ones again," I said, glancing around outside the restaurant.

Will gave me a crooked grin, shrugging. "You'd think these people would know better than to let a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff get to dinner before them."

I laughed. "You’re such a nerd. That wasn’t even remotely on theme."

"I can never not do a Harry Potter reference with you."

We stepped into the restaurant, the hostess smiling warmly at us. “Reservation under Bailey?” I asked.

She nodded and gestured for us to follow. “Of course. Right this way.”

She led us through the main dining room and down a narrow corridor to a private room intimate lighting, two chairs, a small round table with a single candle in the centre. I stopped walking.

“Sorry, I think there’s a mistake,” I said. “There should be six of us.”

“This is the correct table,” she replied with a practised smile before slipping away like a character in a murder mystery.

Will turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “Bit fancy for pizza and pints, innit?”

I was already pulling out my phone. “I’ll text the group. Maybe the others are running late.”

No one replied. Typical. I looked at Will and shrugged. “Should we just... sit? Eat? Pretend this isn’t weird?”

He grinned. “Might as well. If this is a setup, they’ve outdone themselves.”

We sat, laughing about the situation, still utterly clueless. Until the waiter came out.

Wearing a crisp shirt, slicked-back hair, and a moustache that looked suspiciously fake... was Jonathan Bailey.

He carried a wine bottle like he’d trained at a Michelin-starred restaurant and greeted us in a terrible French accent. “Bonsoir, monsieur and mademoiselle. Welcome to Chez Chaos.”

I choked on my laughter. Will leaned back in his chair, wide-eyed. “Is that Bailey?”

“Is he doing a bit?” I asked, already cracking up.

Jonathan continued, entirely in character, ignoring our stares. “May I pour you some of our finest red from the vineyards of... Tesco?”

We exchanged looks. “This is a setup,” Will said, smirking.

“No shit Sherlock.”

One by one, our co-stars made their entrances, each playing a different restaurant role. India brought bread in a waistcoat and bowtie, claiming to be the “gluten guardian.” Thomas delivered our starters with an Italian accent that made zero sense. Aimee, acting as the “water sommelier,” dramatically described the tap water’s “earthy undertones.”

None of them broke character. Not once. And when we tried to call them out, they’d say things like, “I’m sorry, I don’t know who this ‘Jonathan’ is,” or “Madam, I work in hospitality, not in film.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. Neither could Will. The absurdity of it all the dedication to the bit made it one of the best nights I’d ever had.

It wasn’t until dessert that the final surprise was revealed.

A camera crew emerged from behind a divider.

I blinked. “Wait. What?”

Out walked a talk show host we both recognised immediately known for viral interview segments and cheeky ambushes.

“Will! Y/N!” he called. “Welcome to ‘The Love Trap’!”

Will groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh no.”

I stared at the camera, mouth slightly open. “This is a setup and a public shaming.”

“Absolutely,” the host beamed. “And look, your entire friend group helped.”

Jonathan threw his hands up from the corner, still in costume. “We did it for the fans!”

“You do realise we’re not dating, right?” I said, chuckling nervously.

The host raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because Twitter disagrees. There’s a thirty-minute edit of you two looking at each other in slow motion set to a Taylor Swift song.”

Will tried not to laugh, failing miserably. “Let me guess, ‘You Belong With Me’?”

“‘Invisible String,’ actually.”

I turned to Will, grinning. “That’s at least an 8/10 edit.”

“9.5,” he agreed.

The host leaned in. “So. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two?”

Will opened his mouth, then paused. “Define ‘sure.’”

Everyone in the room exploded with laughter.

It was like that the entire evening teasing, sarcasm, banter. But what surprised me was how easy it all felt. Being with Will, even in this ridiculous setup, never felt uncomfortable. If anything, it felt... right.

When the cameras were off and we were walking out of the restaurant, I nudged him. “Well. That was eventful.”

Will chuckled. “I’ve never been so aggressively romanced by a film crew.”

“And your best mates.”

The car ride home was quiet but not awkward. Comfortable, even. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between us as the streets of London slipped past in a blur of lamplight and rain-speckled windows. I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, stealing glances at Will’s profile illuminated by the dashboard lights. He looked calm. Focused. His left hand rested lazily at the bottom of the wheel, and every now and then, his thumb tapped to the rhythm of whatever song was playing through the speakers.

Neither of us said much since we left the restaurant.

What could we say, really?

Our friends had pulled off a complete ambush. A whole fake dinner, private room, them dressed as waiters, the lot and all of it filmed for a late-night talk show appearance. It had been a full-on matchmaking scheme wrapped in sarcasm, flirty accusations, and glances that lingered a little too long. For the first time, it felt like they weren’t entirely wrong.

“Thanks for the lift,” I murmured as he pulled up in front of my place.

Will didn’t answer straight away. He turned off the engine, but neither of us moved to open our doors.

“No worries,” he finally replied, voice soft. “Bit mad tonight, wasn’t it?”

“Completely.”

We both chuckled. And then… silence again.

I looked out the windscreen at the quiet street, shadows of tree branches dancing across the pavement in the glow of a streetlamp. My flat was right there ten steps away. But something in the air held me in my seat, like getting out now would ruin something unspoken, something that had shifted in the past few hours.

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I be honest with you?”

I turned toward him. “Always.”

He didn’t look at me right away. He stared at the steering wheel like it held answers.

“I kept telling myself we were just friends. That it was just chemistry for the camera, a bit of banter. But I think tonight made me realise…” He paused, finally meeting my eyes. “I don’t want it to just be that anymore.”

My heart thudded. Loud and certain.

I swallowed hard. “You too, huh?”

He let out a breath that was half laugh, half relief. “So it’s not just me.”

I shook my head slowly, smiling. “Not just you.”

Will’s gaze softened. “Can I ask something a bit mad?”

“Go on.”

He hesitated. “Would it be completely inappropriate if I didn’t go home just yet?”

My breath caught. I knew what he was saying. He wasn’t suggesting anything crude or presumptuous. It was more about not wanting this moment to end. About the magnetic pull between us finally acknowledged and impossible to ignore.

“I was about to ask if you wanted to come in,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled quietly, genuinely. “Then I’d like that.”

We got out of the car, not rushing, walking slowly toward the door. I unlocked it with slightly trembling fingers, not from nerves but something else anticipation. Inside, the hallway was dimly lit by the lamp I always left on, the warm amber glow casting shadows across the walls.

I kicked off my shoes, suddenly hyper-aware of the silence between us again. Will stood near the door, taking in my space like he hadn’t been here before, even though he had. But never like this. Never with the air charged and every glance saying more than words ever could.

“D’you want a drink or...?”

“I’m okay,” he said, cutting me off gently. “Unless you want one.”

“No,” I said, my voice dipping. “I’m good.”

We stood in the hallway for a moment before I nodded toward the living room. “Come on. It’s warmer in here.”

He followed me in, sitting on the sofa while I tucked my legs beneath me in the opposite corner. The television played a muted rerun of something we weren’t watching. All I could hear was the soft tick of the clock and the rustle of Will shifting to face me.

“Bit surreal, isn’t it?” I said, eyes locked on his.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Feels like we’ve been circling this for a while.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “More than a while.”

There was something about his expression that made me feel like I was floating something gentle and open, but laced with the weight of something deeper. That thing you keep locked away until someone makes you feel safe enough to share it.

“I always thought you were a bit out of my league,” he admitted.

I blinked. “What?”

“You just… You light up every room. You’re clever, and funny, and you’ve got this presence. Everyone sees it. I thought I was just the mate making you laugh in between takes.”

My heart twisted. “That’s ridiculous.”

He smiled sadly. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

I reached out without thinking, brushing his hand where it rested on his knee. “I’ve always seen you, Will. Maybe I just didn’t let myself admit how much.”

His fingers turned over and curled into mine, slowly, deliberately.

The silence returned, but this time it was thick with something else hope, fear, desire, everything layered together. The TV flickered softly, colours playing across our faces, and I knew in that moment that nothing would be the same after tonight.

Will’s voice came low and steady. “Can I stay? Just for a bit. We don’t have to do anything or talk about it if you don’t want to. I just…”

I squeezed his hand. “Stay.”

We didn’t end up sleeping in separate rooms. But it wasn’t what people would assume.

We sat up talking for hours on the sofa, then in bed. Under the covers, facing each other like teenagers, our legs tangled and our voices hushed in the dark. We talked about the shoot, the edits, the ridiculous fan compilations we pretended to roll our eyes at. He told me about growing up, the pressure he’d felt to always be the “nice guy” on screen and off. I told him about how I hid behind humour whenever I felt too much.

And we laughed. God, we laughed.

But underneath all of it, there was tension. This low hum in the background, like something unspoken but mutually understood. Our touches lingered a little longer, eyes drifted to lips more than once. When his hand slid along my waist under the duvet, I didn’t move away.

But we didn’t rush it. We stayed there in that liminal space between friendship and something more, letting the quiet speak for us.

At some point, my eyes started to close and I felt his fingers brush my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep,” he whispered.

“You too,” I murmured back.

Morning came softly.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the sound of the kettle clicking off in the kitchen. Will was making tea.

When I walked in, still wearing the oversized T-shirt I’d thrown on before bed, he turned and grinned like he’d been doing this for years. Like this was normal.

“Morning,” he said, offering me a mug.

“Morning.”

I took it, our fingers brushing, and the butterflies returned instantly.

He looked at me, tilting his head. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He smiled. “More than.”

He passed me the mug, and for a moment, we just stood there in the kitchen. The warm porcelain pressed against my hands, the smell of Earl Grey curling up like a comfort blanket, but all I could feel was the electricity radiating off Will.

The air shifted.

His eyes lingered on me on my lips, on the sleepy way my hair fell around my shoulders, on the oversized shirt of his I’d borrowed and forgotten was his until now.

He cleared his throat softly. “You, uh… you look good in that.”

I looked down at the shirt, cheeks flushing. “It’s yours.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “I know.”

It was such a simple sentence. But something about the way he said it, voice low and thick with meaning, made my heart stutter.

He took a step closer. “Can I kiss you?”

It was barely a whisper.

I nodded before I could talk myself out of it.

And then he kissed me.

Slow, unhurried, but certain. Like he’d been thinking about it for far too long and now that it was finally happening, he didn’t want to rush a second of it. His hands came up gently one settling at my waist, the other brushing against my jaw. I leaned into him, the mug forgotten, hands curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing a little harder.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” he murmured, foreheads pressed together.

“Me too.”

There was a beat.

Then something shifted like we both felt the final thread pull taut.

He kissed me again, harder this time, more sure. I responded instantly, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer until there was barely space between us. His hands moved skimming under the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin of my lower back, making me shiver.

“You’re freezing,” he whispered, lips ghosting along my jaw. “C’mere.”

He took my hand and gently led me back to the bedroom, neither of us saying much, because words would’ve only got in the way now.

In the soft light of the morning, he paused and looked at me really looked.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice husky but earnest.

I nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

His smile was quiet, almost reverent, before he reached for me again.

There was nothing rushed. Everything he did was with care and attention his fingers brushing over my arms, my waist, my thighs as if learning them for the first time. Each touch sent sparks skating across my skin. When his lips moved down my neck, it was gentle at first, but soon heat began to replace softness.

He pushed the shirt slowly up my body, fingertips skimming along my ribs, pausing just below the hem like he was asking permission. I raised my arms wordlessly, and he slipped it over my head. His eyes swept over me, his breath catching, and then he kissed me again deeper, hungrier.

I tugged at his T-shirt in return, and he pulled it off, revealing a toned chest I’d seen in photos and on screen, but never like this. Never this close. Never while he was looking at me like I was the only thing that existed.

When I kissed down the side of his throat, I felt him exhale shakily.

We ended up on the bed him over me, then beside me, then under me our movements a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. There was laughter, too. Soft, surprised giggles between kisses. I think that’s what made it feel so real.

And when he finally settled above me again, our bodies pressed together, his forehead against mine, we just... stopped.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, like it was a fact, not a compliment.

My hand traced the line of his spine. “So are you.”

And then there were no more words.

Just the press of lips, the rustle of sheets, the slow burn of something inevitable.

What happened next was like falling into a dream we’d both had before but only just remembered. Everything was slow and deliberate, his mouth trailing along my collarbone, my nails grazing down his back, the air between us filled with the kind of electricity that makes time feel irrelevant.

And when the final layer between us slipped away, it was like everything we’d been holding back the tension, the friendship, the longing finally found release.

Later, we lay tangled in the aftermath, skin against skin, his arm draped around my waist, my head resting on his chest. The morning light crept across the bed like it was trying to witness what we already knew.

That this wasn’t just chemistry.

This was the start of something real.

And neither of us had to say it out loud to feel it.

#fanfiction #reader #x reader #one shot #requested #will poulter imagine #will poulter one shot #will poulter fanfic #will poulter x reader #will poulter #will #poulter

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truelovewaitsinthehauntedattics · 4 months ago

Text

cowards, both of us

Characters: hyunjin x reader x chan

Synopsis: just a good old angsty love triangle

Warning : mentions of smoking

A/n: the painting that I talk about in the fic, is the same one I've used in the cover picture, it's originally drawn by our talented hyunjin himself. This fic is basically a token of appreciation towards his beautiful artworks. Please ignore the grammatical or punctuational mistakes I've made here and there throughout ( i swear I've read it a couple of times and i can't find any more, but I'm sure they are there) and yeah enjoy :)

Do share your thoughts about this if you have any <3

....................................

You loved your Friday nights with Chris. Amidst the chaotic and super busy life both of you had , this was a small getaway that you two cherished. Usually you would be watching a movie that you've uploaded on your shared letterboxd list, or shit talking about people at work, or just cooking in peace with songs playing from your shared playlist in the background, followed by drinks. And sometimes, you would get lucky enough to get an early leave from work to get to do all of that on the same day. Today was one such fortunate day.

Chris was talking over the song running in the background, while meticulously cutting the potatoes in the right shape and size for the French fries . " ...and since I did finish the task early, the company said I can take the weekend off, isn't that cool? "

" it is very cool " you acknowledge, briefly stealing a look of his joyous face and refocusing on the sauce you're cooking for the pasta that Chris loves.

" Will you be free this Sunday? We should go to that cafe you wanted to visit and maybe get dinner after? "

" oh. " You don't take spending time with him as granted. Because of it's rarity , you are reluctant to skip on any. But tonight, you're not lucky. "... Well actually, hyunjin texted today. He said his dance lessons got cancelled this Sunday , so he was going to the new art gallery that opened last week and he asked me to join him."

Thanks to Chris, you were introduced to a bunch of good people, who are just as nice and cool. You always had the time of your life when you hung out with the entire group. Karaoke nights with seungmin and jeongin were always fun. Minho and you undisputedly took the duty of cooking during group hangouts, felix helped you for the desert. Han and changbin were the brothers you never had, always bickering about something or the other. Your equation with each one of them was different, but equally beautiful. Hyunjin was the one you found to be the most similar to yourself. You had a bunch of shared hobbies and hence never ran out of topics to talk about over texts, and occasionally over a ciggerette. Often you two would go out to visit an art exhibition or a museum, but more often than not, it would happen as a result of the others rain-checking at the last minute.

" Oh. Okay, when are you going then? "

" we didn't discuss times yet. But my shift ends at 6, so after that maybe. And we'll be getting dinner too. So- "

" woah. So art gallery AND dinner date? " he chuckled surprisingly, with an undertone of something you couldn't quite figure out.

Defensively, you shrugged " it's not a date. "

" oh yeah? What do you call it then? " Chris smirked teasingly.

" it's - just a normal...going out thing. With a friend. "

" with a friend. " Chris repeated more to himself than to you.

You scoffed. " what?"

" what?"

"Are we not hanging out right now? Would you call this a date? " your voice had a tint of playful annoyance.

" would you? "

Honestly, you would like to. But that's probably not what he would want. Right?

" no? " You feign non-chalance.

You expected Chris to say something witty in reply, like he always does. But this time, even if he came up with something, he kept it to himself and just nodded and went ahead with his potato cutting duties. You were disappointed that you didn't get your question answered, but you decided not to press on it further. A silent awkward dawned upon you . You wondered if he felt it too, but his eyes were laser focused on the knife. You wish you could hear what he was thinking.

.................................................................................

Sunday morning

.................................................................................

You've always admired his passion for the art . On most days, he would send you a new picture of the things he's been painting, the new art supplies he brought, the medium he looks forward to use in the future. While you were not as talented as him at painting, you have loved discussing art with him. Sometimes on video calls, he would just be painting while you studied for your research. You mentioned that to Chris once, and he annoyingly joked about hyunjin being into you. But that's just what friends are for , right? The others always shipped you and Chris too, but that didn't mean anything either. So neither should this.

However, when hyunjin came to pick you up and you opened the door to him looking drop dead gorgeous, all adorned in a black, with a beautiful bouquet in his hand, it occured to you for the first time that maybe not all of this is platonic. Hyunjin took a good look at you in your black dress and said , almost inaudibly " you are beautiful "

You could only chuckle awkwardly to that "you look gorgeous too , as always. "

" this is for you. " Hyunjin handed over the bouquet of dark violet and black roses. " This is so pretty, I've never seen a black rose before " you say taking a good long sniff of the flowers.

" yeah me neither actually. Got my florist to find me some hehe "

You had no clue where all of this was heading, but you really appreciated his efforts . " Thank you so much. I love this. "

" let's get going then , shall we ? "

.................................................................................

The gallery was pretty empty at that hour which meant you could peacefully take your time to go through all the exhibits, without having to keep moving forward to avoid queues. From the moment you walked in your eyes were caught by this one painting that stood lonely at the corner. Hyunjin was going around the venue looking at the breathtaking canvases that adorned the plane white walls of the gallery. Your legs unconsciously dragged you to the exhibit at the corner. Something about it was so immensely sad, it was tugging your heart strings uncomfortably. It tells a story. You can't figure it out yet but you know it's tinged with melancholy, longing and perhaps, unfulfilled love.

You didn't know how much time has passed before hyunjin brought you out of your reverie " looks like you found a favourite "

" i don't know, i haven't looked at the rest yet"

" oh? " He came and stood beside you, the sleeves of your overcoats kissing each other. "....so what's so captivating about this ? " his voice so much softer than before.

" i don't know. The person in the right looks so patient. He's sitting in stillness perhaps longing for a recognition or a moment of connection? " You look up at hyunjin, trying to decipher his thoughts from his usually transparent face. Surprisingly, it was blank at the moment. He didn't say anything either so you continued " the person on the left however, looks fragmented. Chaotic even. The abstract lines. Could that mean emotional complexity? Maybe, they have a natural tendency to see the world through a hazy lens, making it difficult for them to perceive love or care clearly. "

" there's this tension here." a deep breath followed " One heart fully aware and brimming with affection, while the other remains distant, shrouded in a fog they may not even realize is there. You know what I mean? " You look back up at him. His eyes now reflected more light than before. Maybe he too is equally impacted by the picture. Maybe he too can relate to it. Maybe.

" Do you know what I think the most beautiful part of this painting is? " he spoke with the weight of something unspoken and suppressed evident in his voice.

He continued without waiting for your reply " if there's love here, like you claimed , It's neither rejected nor accepted, simply suspended in a space where time, patience, and longing seem to stretch endlessly. It's the silent hope that's beautiful and enduring that love of the person on the right, even when there is no promise that their feelings will ever be acknowledged is what's beautiful about this. " He nodded to himself.

The atmosphere got too heavy and serious with what he said. While you agreed with him , you wanted to know more about what he was thinking. Unfortunately, the security guard told everyone to start leaving the premises as they reached the closing time. With a heavy heart of not being able to look at the other paintings, while also being somewhat content about the conversation you had before you slowly walk out.

On his way out, hyunjin stopped momentarily and took one last look of the painting. The one painting he didn't give updates to you about the second he came up with the idea of it, because he painted that with you in his mind. The two humans on the painting you spent almost an hour talking about were the reflection of how he perceives you and your friendship. And just like every other painting of his, he wanted you to see it first, hence the invite. And maybe, he'll muster the courage to tell you what he feels tonight.

Unknowingly you've put his feelings , that he was astoundingly unsure about, into words. The frustrated brush strokes that accessorised the painting finally made some sense to him too. Ironically.

" do you have a ciggerette? " Hyunjin asks.

You had decided to walk to the restaurant nearby , the breeze was cool and the roads were empty " i think i do, yeah. " you shuffled through your bad to found a singular ciggerette sitting idly in the packet. " There's only one. You have it , i don't want it "

" that's alright we can share " he took the ciggerette in his mouth and lit it up quickly. Taking two quicker steps he went ahead and leaned into the railing of the bridge, closing his eyes softly when the breeze from the river below hit his face.

Something about sharing that ciggerate was strangely intimate. You stood really close to each other looking ahead into the dark oblivion, scatteringly decorated here and there with the city lights, your mind still fogged by the painting you saw earlier.

" do you like him ? " Hyunjin unpredictably whispered.

A part of you knew who he was referring to. But you didn't understand why he would ask something like that so randomly. Or maybe you just chose to ignore the obvious.

" who? " You look at him half confused and half shocked

" chris"

" i- " you tried to calculate the number of consequences of you telling the truth can bring. Because ofcourse you did. All the feelings you have for chris is hidden in one secluded corner of your heart. There was a lot of unattended thoughts and feelings that you cannot quite name, because you would do absolutely anything to hide what you feel for him from yourself, chris and everyone. But you knew it's love nonetheless. " Not really. Why? Why do you ask ?"

" you really took your time huh? " He scoffed, which annoyed you a little. " No reason. Just- just wanted to make sure before I- "

You look at him to find him looking back. There's a hesitation in his voice, a doubt in his eyes. And his breath is awfully cold, like he's frozen from the inside. You realise how close you're standing to him now, his lips mere inches away from the tip of your nose, his uneven breaths delicately reaching your eyes. His right hand brushed upon the back of your neck and spread fire in your otherwise cold body. " I don't know if you lied or not but regardless, i can't live with myself if i don't tell you." He softly caressed your cheek with his thumb as if he's never seen anything more frail, more delicate and brittle , as if one wrong move from will make you disappear.

" i like you...like- a lot. " Hyunjin sighed. Saying it out loud released him from the weight of holding everything in. He gently pressed his lips onto your forehead. A meaningful kiss, conveying everything else he doesn't or couldn't say.

Dinner was unmistakeably awkward after that. You had most certainly lost your appetite after the conversation you had with him

"Hyun- i- " he waited for you , patiently, just like the guy in that picture of the exhibition was. " I just- i don't think this is a good idea " you were scared he would get mad, not because he was a short tempered person but the situation is itself that nerve wrecking.

"so your feelings were always platonic? About me ? "

You could only sigh " it doesn't matter "

" ofcourse it does" he was surprisingly calm, as if he saw this coming.

" i don't want to give you false hopes, or lead you on more than how much I've unintentionally had already. "

" you didn't lead me on " he chuckled

" everyone thinks you and Chris should be together. I do too. It's true that it hurts like hell to think i can't replace his place in your heart but I'm okay with it. Really. It's selfish but I just wanted to let you know how I feel about you. " His eyes were so kind, so calm. It pained you. He smiled softly and it looked so genuine and excruciating.

If anything that you're sure about this whole situation is that you're left utterly confused by it. After years of failed convincing that Chris is just your friend, you've let yourself embrace the fact that you are terribly in love with him. And after days of contemplating you finally decided that you want to share this one last secret that your heart carries so sacredly, with your best friend too. That you would tell chris that you love him, and then deal with whatever happens next. All of that courage leaked out the second hyunjin confessed. " I like you but he loves you " he had said. You don't know what to do with that information, or if it is even correct to begin with.

You're lying at your bed staring aimlessly at the mundane ceiling of your room. Chris has given you two missed calls already. He's waiting on the other side, fidgeting with his phone ,for you to pick up and tell him about the secret you mentioned to him about before. Hyunjin had apologised for the umpteenth time that evening. He shouldn't need to apologise for his feelings but he did and you're still mad. At him. At the situation. But mostly, at yourself.

Fuck.

How did you get yourself here? You wished you could move to a different country and change your identity altogether, so that you don't have to face them again. Or face the horrible truth that you can't be with Chris, not anymore, not after hyunjin's confession. It would kill Chris if he found out.

Your phone rang again. And unsurprisingly, it's him again.

" what. " You hated how you had almost no control over your anger. Your voice was inevitably rude than what chris had expected.

" hi. Hyunjin said you're back, and you said you wanted to have a chat earlier" his voice sounded weaker.

" yeah, about that- "

" it's okay if you're tired, we can talk later. "

You audibly sigh.

You knew you're about to cry.

" you okay?"

" yeah. I'll talk to you later okay? " You utter in a single breath.

It was only after a brief pause that he spoke again " sure. I'm only a text away if you need me "

You knew he was. That's what hurt the most. And there's no way out of this without atleast one of you getting hurt.

................................................................................

Not even Chris's busy life could keep him distracted from the fact that your voice grew more distant every time he tried to talk to you on call, your texts grew drier and not seeing you that Friday has stretched to three more of those. He didn't stop trying though. When he called you to ask about your day, that inevitably always went unresponded, you wished he would stop. Every time he knocked at your door with your favourite take-away food in hand, only to be lied to about you not being at home, you selfishly hoped that this would be the last time and then it'll be easier for you to live with the fact that you're pushing him away, even if your heart is getting shredded into bits and pieces in the process .

Chris couldn't keep moving any further. He is angry, and so so hurt that you, out of all the people, is doing this to him. What did he even do to have you cut him out from your life without an explanation?

Frustrated, chris opted for the only option he had left. He asked hyunjin. And Hyunjin wouldn't lie to him, not willingly anyway.

How stupid, Chris thought. How fucking stupid of both of you. With all the knowledge of what exactly triggered this reaction from you, and how it's more directed towards him than hyunjin, he's put one and one together, and realised that his feelings for you weren't all one sided afterall. But he can't ignore how he's mad at you for the way you're dealing with your feelings. It's not something he can help with , but it frustated him nonetheless. Loving you was lonely for him. But it's never been as painful as it has been lately.

So here he is again, incessantly knocking at your door. It's friday, 8 in the pm, and he knows you're at home.

" open the door. I know you're in there. "

You are standing across the hallway. He's mad and it's unmistakeably evident in his voice and you know he doesn't deserve what you're doing to him, but your rotten brain still holds you back from opening the door for him.

" y/n. " He rests his forehead on the door and closes his eyes dejectedly. He sounded so weak, you could cry. " We should stop dancing around our feelings. It's hurting us. You and me both. Can you not see? "

Your hands softly land on the doorknob. You rest your forehead on the hard surface of the door unknowingly mimicking his gesture. A tear ran down your face.

" you're - you make me so angry sometimes. I feel like screaming. And I love you so goddamn much, it's tearing me apart.

Will it kill you to be honest with me about your feelings for once? " his voice only grew weaker with each words "i know you're listening, answer me. Please. Say something." You wouldn't catch his last words if it wasn't just a door separating you two because of the way his throat gave up.

You don't know how to answer him. You would love to just run away, but you've done that enough. How far can you even go than you might already have from Chris? But, he said he loves you, right? You didn't hallucinate that. You heard him.

Gently you open the door. The anger within him softened the second he saw your tear stained face, eyes bloodshot. Chris's brows furrowed together, the frown on his beautiful face looked so painful, and you hated how you caused it.

" chris. "

His face looked defeated, bearing an expression so excruciating, eyes fighting tears and he pulled you close. Into his warm embrace.

After everything you've done to him, he still held you close and buried his head into your neck like the times he did when the world was being mean to him.

" I'm sorry " your breathy voice came out broken, almost inaudible. " I'm so sorry" . You realise it's not just Chris' trembling body, but you are shaking too. His cries grew louder and yours followed soon after.

Your insides burn in pain, but there's no medicine on earth that can soothe your bruises the way his mere presence does in your life. There's no other place you'd rather be, than here, with him. You don't recall how long you stood there at the door, knitted into each other's body like it was the oxygen you've been lacking for days. But you do remember how he made you feel extremely brave. So you did what you've dreaded doing all this while.

" i really fucking love you. And it's killing me "

He breaks the hug first. Only this time his expression is replaced by a more content one. There's a relief painted across his face.

" i know. " His contorted into what looked like a smile. "You shouldn't have pushed me away. We don't do that, not with each other. "

" i know " you mouthed as he closed the door behind him and rested his back on the door frame.

" cowards. Both of us "

" mostly me. And stupid too. "

You heard him laugh softly and it watered your dry, barren, thirsty heart that was burning under your fatal thoughts these past few days.

" we're gonna talk and fix whatever's there to be fixed and we'll be okay " his voice sounded more sincere than ever.

You nod.

..................................................................................

Hyunjin found himself standing right where you stood that night at the exhibition, in front of the picture he drew with floods of unnameable feelings oozing out of him. He'll never know if your heart ever skipped a beat for him the way his always did when you were around. Or if you ever searched for him in a crowd, the way he did. You probably didn't even stare at your phone endlessly waiting for him to reply back. Although that's because he always made it a point to reply astronomically fast to your texts. It's pathetic how he can never like anything a normal amount. And you weren't an exception either. He would give up his all, even his own feelings, if it meant he could see the smile he loved so dearly on your face, the one he can draw with his eyes closed because of the amount of times he's drawn it on his canvases in the disguise of a flower, sometimes a butterfly.

But hyunjin knows better than to have to win your love and hate himself for it when he doesn't. One of you had to lose and he's fine with being the loser. He doesn't even want the sadness to go away. It is afterall, the only place you're still his. He's going to find a way to live around it. And maybe someday he'll wake up with the memories of his love for you so faint , he wouldn't even notice it was there at the first place. And then, only then, he'll be okay too.

...............................................................................

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