#weekly wrap up no 1

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D WIRELESS 2023 - WEEKLY WRAP-UP #1

🎶  Just a perfect week Read fanfiction in the park And then later When it gets dark, look at art. Just a perfect week Reading at work in the loo, And then later a podfic, too And then home.

Oh it's such a perfect fest We're glad to share it with you Oh, such a perfect fest It just keeps us reading on, It just keeps us reading on.   🎶

🎤 Welcome to our 8th round of H/D Wireless!

The time has finally come to start posting all the fantastic entries we’ve received this year!

We’ve revealed 14 top hits so far, with many more to come. The mods have been working non-stop since December to make this happen, so we’re beyond excited to finally be back 🤩

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there) ❤️

And here for the YouTube playlist.

And now without further ado, our Wrap-up for the first week of posting:

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 Why don't you like me? [T, digital comic]

🎵Song Prompt: Grace Kelly by MIKA 🎵Summary Failing to ask Harry out, Draco deals with his feelings in a very dramatic fashion.

📻 Alive [E, Digital comic]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Alive' by 'Sia' 🎵 Summary Harry is lost after the final battle, but he finds comfort from an unexpected source. 

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic and Art 🎶

📻 Before the Cold Sets In [T, 9,154, origami art]

🎵 Song Prompt: Cold Tea Blues, by Cowboy Junkies 🎵 Summary But if I measure the sugar To satisfy your expectant tongue Then that is love Sitting untouched and growing cold - Cold Tea Blues, by Cowboy Junkies Sometimes, the person you should be planning your life with is already in it. Or, how Harry realised that true love is at the bottom of a tea cup.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Everybody Hates a Tourist [E, 51,500]

🎵 Song Prompt: Common People by Pulp 🎵 Summary On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school. Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?

📻 Take You Home [E, 26,333]

🎵 Song Prompt: Fuck the Pain Away by Peaches and Take You Home by Dido 🎵 Summary Everybody’s a little fucked up after the war, Draco especially. What starts as hate sex after a night out, eventually turns into something else, something more like comfort. And even though his friends all tell Harry he’s just being used, all Harry’s doing is making sure Draco gets home in one piece. He’s not falling helplessly in love.

📻 love is just a shout in the void [M, 4,489]

🎵 Song Prompt: i'm in love with u, sorry by j'san 🎵 Summary Draco accidentally texts Potter his biggest secret and he’s pretty sure the Chosen Prat isn’t ready to hear anything close to it. So he pretends he didn’t mean to. But the problem is: Potter is still as infuriating as ever, if not more than he was before.

📻 The Two Of Us In Sympathy [M, 5,782]

🎵 Song Prompt: Rent by Pet Shop Boys. 🎵 Summary Draco Malfoy is a sex worker. Harry Potter is the client who falls in love with him.

📻 Vipera Berus [M, 20,614]

🎵 Song Prompt: Just Pretend by Bad Omens 🎵 Summary Everything was fine. Draco resided at the Manor, made a decent living selling potions and most of his customers actually kept coming back despite his last name. Hence, Draco was fine. He really was. And so what, if he was still waiting.

📻 Don’t hate him when he gets up to leave [M, 2,226]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Two-Headed Boy' by 'Neutral Milk Hotel' 🎵 Summary The linens are white and empty, sunlight slanting through the window illuminating a bed that has been deserted. Draco knew Potter would leave; he’s always gone by morning. Draco doesn’t even remember what he looks like in daylight.

📻 (you) find me when the lights go down [T, 1,839]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'save me from the monster in my head' by 'Welshly Arms' 🎵 Summary Harry can hear footsteps on the stairs behind him but doesn't bother turning to look. There's only one person likely to follow him out here at this time of night. "Potter," comes the crisp voice, easily recognisable as Draco. "You do know that most sane people, especially those who spend every waking moment complaining of being cold, would cast a warming charm. Or at the very least grab a sweater. Not spend every night attempting to turn into an icicle." - What makes someone a ghost? Because if it's dying, Harry's got that covered.

📻 If You Took the Time to Try [T, 18,169]

🎵 Song Prompt: "Go Like" by Fox Stevenson 🎵 Summary Last summer, Draco's impulsive decision to sleep with Harry Potter resulted in a bruised ego and a broken heart. Now he's looking for a fresh start- something that was absolutely not just an excuse for him to run away from his problems. Only it totally was, and while leaving London might have been easy, leaving Potter in the past was not.

📻 Title & Possession [E, 49,063]

🎵 Song Prompt: Misery Loves Company - Asking Alexandria 🎵 Summary Harry Potter’s life is going well in the aftermath of the war. Sure, his house is dark and run-down and might hate him (while his house elf definitely hates him). But other than that, things are good. Except, yeah, okay, Hermione and Ron are no longer on speaking terms. Worse, they keep trying to get Harry to pick sides. But otherwise, Harry couldn’t be happier. Well. Except for the fact that Ginny is being super weird about their relationship and never wants to have sex or talk about the future. But other than that, Harry is perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch. At least, he is until Draco Malfoy threatens to sue him for ownership of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and winds up moving in until the issue is settled. Then Harry really isn’t fine at all.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [podfic] [M, 33 minutes]

🖋️ Original author: Jackvbriefs 🎵 Song Prompt: Black Sheep by Metric 🎵 Summary The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Moldova's Magical Tea by aibidil - a Podfic [E, 2:46:12]

🖋️ Original author: aibidil  🎵 Song Prompt:  Clint Eastwood by Gorrillaz 🎵 Summary Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy. Featuring Muggle music from summer 2001, trips to the Muggle cinema, herbology and magical herbal infusions, and Draco trying to convince Harry that, while he’s still a snarky git, he’s no longer a bigot.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Sam’s Weekly Wrap Up

Week one is upon us! My Advent Month has been so much fun to do so far, and I can't wait for the rest of it!

The Act of Healing It didn’t take long to realize that it wasn’t normal—that Harry wasn’t normal. That no one else could see the strange lights and dented auras that surrounded everyone. Harry had learned at an early age to hide it, to tell no one else about it. It worked. At least until he encountered a boy in a robe shop with the largest light he’d ever seen.

But what did it mean?

Renatus Reborn “I know Potter,” Draco began, leaning forward slightly. “I wasted six years observing him only for him to die in that forest. I don’t know who you are, but you somehow managed to get inside his body.”

Or the one where the rest of the world believes that Harry Potter came back, alive and whole. But to those that knew him, he didn’t come back at all, for it wasn’t Potter who stood before them. It was someone else.

Predicting the Present Malfoy—of all people—was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and Harry didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Professor Malfoy said we’ll be learning the basics on how to cast a Patronus!”

Oh really? That, Harry had to see.

Where to? Date time, only why does Scorpius think he gets to tag along? And is that a suit he's wearing?

Tricks and Giggles Professor Malfoy rarely gave extra credit, the harsh and bitter teacher that he was. So, when it was announced that all they had to do was get his son—Scorpius, who was still a baby—to interact with their Magic, they all assumed it would be a walk in the park.

How hard could it be?

Because it's you 'They are only together because they are soulmates.'

They were so much more than that and it was about time the world realized it. This is a story of how Harry and Draco fell in love and how very little being soulmates had to do with any of it. 

Crude Coffee “—this coffee tastes horrible.”

“Of course it does.” The drawling tone was biting and held derision. “We here at Cup of Crude promise coffee in a timely manner, we never promised that it’ll taste good.”

Harry snorted, unable to help himself.

[liathgray]

Just finished reading your Young Root, Old Rock fic, and I was wondering if you had an update schedule? No shame/pressure if ya don’t, I just like to know if there’s a routine.

Yepyep!! New chapters go up every other Tuesday unless stated otherwise! So the next chap will be going up on Feb 28th :)

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[seiwas]

grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends. 

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 

He continues to stare, unmoving. 

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 

You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 

He furrows his brows, confused. 

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo (coming soon)

Theodore (coming soon)

[h0efor2ho]

Playtime

Yunho X Reader ( ft Wooyoung & Mingi )

WC : 1.4K of p0rn with very little plot ; not proofread

TW : Unprotected intercourse ( wrap it up kids ) Cockwarming, Exhibition (being listened to) Dirty Talk, Name calling ( Slut ) Praise, Use of nic name ( Baby, princess, pretty )

"Shhh baby, you don't want the rest of the guys to hear you do you? Don't want them to know what a little slut you actually are" Yunho says as he adjusts both of you in his gaming chair. You whimper in response as you feel his thick cock shift inside you. 

You're trying to wrap your head around how you ended up in this position. Yunho was having his normal weekly gaming night with Wooyoung and Mingi and you had been peacefully reading your book laying on his bed. 40 minutes ago he called you over to sit on his lap, saying he needed some good luck. One thing led to another and here you were straddling his hips, his hard dick buried in your cunt.

"Woo over there by that wall" Yunho says into his headset as he looks over your shoulder. Your head nuzzled into his neck as you try not to pant and whine too loud. His arms caging you in as he looks at his screen. His long pretty hands pressing the buttons on his keyboard. "Yuyu" you whimper into the side of his neck as you try and hold still. The ache between your legs becoming to much for you. "Shh babe" he coos at you as his hand comes up to push on your back, trying to muffle your voice.

 All it does is shift your body forward, Yunho's cock shifting inside you hitting places that have you seeing start. A strangled moan leaving your lips as you throw your head back, the same time Yunho lets out a sharp gasp. The sound echoing through his room. "What was that?" you hear Mingi ask through the head set. Your chest heaving as you lean back looking at Yunho with wide eyed. A playful smirk plastered across his mouth as he says "Oh that was just Y/N. She apparently cant sit on my cock with out moaning like a needy whore" You feel your face heat under the blush that spreads across it.

"Yunho" you whisper yell at him. "Dude..... you have her sitting on your cock right now? While we're playing?" you hear Wooyoung say through the mic. "I sure do. She couldn't help herself, grinding all over me before" "YUNHO!" you shriek as you bury your face back into his shoulder. "What?" He chuckles "I told you to be quiet or they would hear you" You huff and try to lift your self up and off his lap, but you don't get far before his arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you back down. "Oh no where do you think you're going baby?" Another needy moan slipping past your lips as you slide back down on his shaft. Yunho lets out the same. "Oh did you like that baby? Fuck feels so good" 

"Yuyu" you whisper breathlessly. "oh you can't. Hold on" You watch as Yunho removes his head set and unplugs them, plugging in a few new wires and pushing a few buttons before he asks "Can you hear me" followed by both Mingi and Wooyoung's voice filling the room. The horror you felt must have been all over your face because Yunho chuckles "They said they couldn't hear you babe. We want to be good friend's now don't we and let them listen" You knew this was his way of asking you if you were okay with this. You knew if you said no, he would shut it down. Yunho had never done anything to make you even close to uncomfortable.

But you couldn't deny the shock of pure pleasure that shot through you when you figured out that they could hear you, and you them. "Yes" you said softly "Want to be good for all of you" As soon as the words left your mouth three things happened. 1) You heard all the air leave Wooyoung's lungs. 2)Mingi let out the neediest groan and 3) The biggest smile crept its self across Yunhos face. "That's my girl" he said as he leaned in a placed the sweetest kiss to your lips. "Now move for them baby" he says against your lips "let them hear all your pretty sounds." 

And you do. You would do anything this man said right now If it kept you feeling this way. Slowly you begin to pick up your hips, dragging yourself up his length before coming back down again. Little mews and moans leaving your lips as you look at Yunho watching you, his hands grabbing your hips. Slowly you pick up speed, bouncing on his lap faster, harder, pulling grunts of pleasure from his throat as he tried to control himself. 

You on the other hand have lost all sense of self preservation and are a moaning, whining mess as you fuck yourself on your boyfriends dick. "God she sounds so good" Mingi deep voice grunts through the speakers in the room and you have know doubt in your mind that he has his cock in his hand listing to you. "So good" Wooyoung coo's back. Your walls tighten at their praise sending a moan slipping from Yunhos lips. 

"Fuck baby you like that? You like them telling you how good you sound?" He asks, his hips jerking up to meet your body. You shake your head enthusiastically. "They can't hear you princess, use your words or have you gone dumb on me? Hmm?" "Yess" you moan out "Yes I like it yuyu" your hands snacking up his body to rest on his shoulders, giving yourself leverage to fuck yourself on him harder. 

"Fu- fuck" Mingi moans "She sounds so pretty" The sound of your panting and your thighs slapping agains Yunhos hips fills the room along with the pants and whimpers from the speakers. "You should see how pretty she looks" Yunho breaths out "Maybe one day you can show Mingi baby, show him how well you ride cock" Your body heats up and your core clenches around him at the thought of his best friend watching you fuck him "Oh Mingi I think she likes that idea" 

"Do you pretty? You like the idea of me being there? I like the idea" Mingi groans out, the tell tail sound of slapping filling the room lets you know either him or Woo are jerking them self to you and it elights another sensation of pleasure in you. "Hey what about me?" Woo whines "Well see about you" Yunho laughs. "Yuyu im-" His hand comes up to cup your cheek "I know baby, I know me too"  he says as he lifts his hips to meet you. His other hand sneaks between your bodies and finds your bundle of nerves "Just let go for me baby" 

It doesn't take long, between Yunho thrusting up into you, hitting that sweet spot just right, his finger in your clit rubbing circles just the way you like and Mingi and Wooyoung's groans and pants filling the room you are sent over the edge. Your body jerking forward till you were flat against Yunhos chest. Clamping down on his cock, your walls flutter around him just as he shoves back inside you and stills. His cock twitching as he fills you with his load. 

The both of you reaching the loudest you have been the whole time, followed by the sound of Mingis deep grunts filling the room letting you know he followed behind the two of you. The only tell of Woo finishing was the heavy panting from his end. You stayed pressed up against Yunhos chest as his hand came up to stroke your back, helping you calm down. The reality of what you just did washes over you and you bury your face in his chest. Embarrassment eating away at you. 

It's Wooyoung who breaks the silence first. "Ughh, I'll talk to you guys later.. Gotta clean up. Bye" and with a quick click he's gone. Its Mingi who lets out a chuckle after that "You got him all embarrassed there pretty" You shift to look at Yunhos computer screen, like you half expected to actually see your boyfriends 6ft blond best friend looking back at you. "Didn't mean to" yo mutter out. "Awww don't go getting all shy now baby. Don't forget we promised Mingi he could see just how well you ride remember" 

You look up at Yunho, meeting his big chocolate brown eyes and that sweet smile and you instantly melt. "Yea pretty, I want to witness that first hand" you hear Mingi say. You nod your head yes up at Yunho before remembering Mingi cant hear you. "Yea.. okay" you say softly. A smile forming on your face as Yunho leans down to place a kiss onto of your head, you think to your self, what did you get yourself into?

Part 2 ?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult

Hi. So, this is an idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5

TW: none

Word Count: 3.4k

Description: R is tired of being treated like a child

Being the youngest in the club by quite some years when you first join the club is hard. You were 15 when you put pen to paper, debuting for your national team at 16. You automatically inherited about 40 big sisters at club and country, with all their wisdom, love, and overprotectiveness. It was adorable … at first. You couldn’t fault them for their heart. You knew they meant well. But you were ready to strangle them by the time you turned 18. You had been given offers from all over the world as your contract ended. It was a difficult choice to leave your team; most of them you considered family. But it wasn’t a difficult choice to sign for Barcelona.

You had hoped that as you left your home and started a new chapter in life, you could prove that you weren’t a child anymore. But it quickly became apparent that that wasn’t the case. Alexia hovered, Lucy fussed, Marta fretted, and Irene worried. You had originally moved in with Alexia, which was lovely initially. She helped you organise the parts of your life that were new to you – organising your weekly shopping list, helping manage your finances, and coordinating your schedules. But as the years went by, you think she forgot that you were no longer the barely legal adult who needed help with many things. You think they all forgot.

The first incident that made you slightly pissed off was in the changing rooms. The music was loud, and you were too busy grinding on Pina to notice the looks from Lucy and Marta. You were celebrating another spectacular win, you scoring a hat trick and Patri and Salma scoring braces. You had taken your sweaty shirt off and swung it around your head as you turned to press yourself against Bruna, all 3 of you laughing as you ran your hands down your body, shaking your hips sensually. As the song ended, you were all in fits of laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing hard.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Ona asked, her arms wrapping around your waist as you slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen me dance plenty of times,” You joked as you kissed her forehead.

“You’ve been out dancing?” Lucy asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. You were too young to go out.

“Yeh, we went out a few weeks ago,” Ona told her.

“Who is we?” Alexia frowned.

“Um … me, Ona, Patri, Pina, Jana, Bruna, Esmee, Aitana,” you rattled off their names, counting them on your fingers as you went. Basically, it was all the young ones who could legally drink. It had been an entertaining night. No one was telling you to calm it down. No one breathed down your neck as you chatted to random strangers. No one was hovering. It was fantastic. You had spent most of the next day with your head over the toilet and feeling very sorry for yourself. But it was worth it. You wouldn’t let them dampen your spirits over that night. Lucy was frowning hard; Alexia also gave an angry glare. “What?” You asked, confused about why you were having disapproving scowls sent your way.

“You’re too young,” Lucy said as she turned away. You huffed, muttering under your breath as you headed to the showers. You were starting to get irritated with their behaviour.

The second time they made you angry was when you stumbled home from a night-in with Pina and Patri. You had chatted away the evening over good food and wine. It was a lovely night, bringing you even closer to the pair of best friends. What you hadn’t been aware of, however, was Lucy and Alexia, and Marta, and Caro, and Paños, and Irene. They all blew up your phone, asking where you were and what you were doing. Alexia had asked Lucy to come over as she noticed you looked a little less like yourself. You were acting short with her, not really acknowledging her when she gave her (unwanted) input on what you were doing and with whom you were doing it. She had hoped that Lucy could help you navigate what was going on. As Alexia opened your bedroom door, without knocking – once again – she was met with a slightly messy but very empty room with a pile of clothes on the floor near the hamper. She must tell you that you need to do your washing.

“Lucy,” Alexia had called out in a panic. You weren’t anywhere else in the house. She didn’t know where you were. She had promised your parents all those years ago that she would look after you. “She’s gone. She’s not here. She’s missing. Should we phone the police?” She grew more and more desperate with every passing moment.

“Right. Calm down, alright? She couldn’t have gone far. She can’t drive,” she was wrong – you could drive; you even had your own car, but the older team members refused to let you go anywhere without them or let you behind the wheel if they were in the car. “Let’s check her location, yeh?” You had asked her repeatedly to delete the app from her phone. She had ignored your wishes, telling you that due to your age, someone should always know your whereabouts. “See, she’s at Patri’s. She’s fine.” The pair took calming breaths together. As the hours ticked by and it seemed like you were making no appearance any time soon, more people were called to come and wait for you. First, it was Marta and Caro and then Paños after another hour and finally Irene after another 2. It was 3 am when you stumbled into the house, slightly wine-drunk but more or less sober.

“What time do you call this?” Alexia’s voice called out from the shadows. It was angry; you didn’t need to see her face to know that her signature glare was etched on it.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” you commented, moving into the kitchen and flicking the lights on as you went. You jumped slightly as you were faced with four other women, all of whom were in similar states of anger and disapproval. "Jesus Christ. What did you do? Throw a party or something?”

“A search party more like. You snuck out.” Irene commented, folding her arms over her chest and giving you her best Mum look.

“Is it really sneaking out if I leave through the front door?” you countered, filling a glass with water and looking in the medicine box under the sink. “Do we have any paracetamol?” you asked absentmindedly, not quite realising just how angry the group was.

“Why do you need paracetamol, kid?” Lucy asked, knowing the answer already but not wanting the confirmation.

“Oh, I had a few drinks with Patri and Pina. Wanna have them in my room with some water for tomorrow if I need them,” you said, letting out a small ‘aha’ when you found the medicine you were looking for.

“You’ve been drinking?” Marta screeched.

“Yeh?” You drew out the word, slightly too tipsy for this conversation.

“What? That’s it, you’re grounded. For-” Alexia stormed forwards.

“You can’t ground me, Alexia,” you said incredulously, standing up and facing her. You may be younger, but you were slightly taller than her. “I’m not a child.”

“How da-” she started, raising her voice at you. You held up a hand, cutting her off. You were mightily fed up with her behaviour as of late. You clicked your teeth.

“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, pushing past the group standing in the hallway and stomping up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare slam your-” She shouted but was cut off by a harsh slam.

By the third time, you were ready to scream. Or commit murder. You weren’t too fussed – whichever got them to stop. After the night with Patri and Pina, Alexia tried to ban you from doing anything outside of training. You had raised one eyebrow at her and walked straight out the door. She was shocked, to say the least. Where was this attitude coming from? She had been nothing but nice to you, helping you out when she thought you needed it and offering advice when you looked a little stressed. She had had enough of your door slamming and locking the door. So, she did the only thing she could think of. You walked back into the house with Ona by your side, chatting away about the coffee shop you wanted to try. You could hear the faint whirring of power tools coming from upstairs. It was a known fact that Alexia hated building flat-pack furniture, so you went to investigate – beckoning for Ona to follow, thinking it would be funny to see the disaster that Alexia was making. The sight that met you had you screaming and shouting. Alexia was taking your bedroom door off its hinges.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, anger your dominant emotion.

“Language!” She said calmly as she finished with the final nail.

“Seriously, what the actual fuck, Alexia? You’re taking my door off?”

“Sí. You kept slamming it. I told you not to slam the door. And it’s not your door. It’s mine. I own the house.”

“In that case, when do you want me to move out? Can I have a few hours to pack?” She scoffed, thinking you were bluffing. You were most certainly not bluffing. You looked over to Ona, standing at the top of the stairs, slightly embarrassed at witnessing the clearly private situation.

“You are too young to move out, cariño. Once you learn to respect those who are trying to help you, I’ll put the door back on,” she said simply, pushing the door onto its side and moving past you. “Hi, Ona,” she said sweetly.

You immediately gathered up a suitcase full of clothes and forced Ona to take you to her place. Spending time in an environment where you weren’t treated as a child only grew your resentment towards others. You loved being treated as the adult that you were. You spent a few nights with Ona before moving to Patri’s and Pina’s. You had ignored all the older girls' efforts to talk to you. They still muttered and moaned about how you weren’t old enough and that they were only trying to help, to do what was best for you. Eventually, you decided you needed your own place – sleeping on couches and pull-out beds was not good for your body.

“Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out. Officially.” You approached Alexia one morning in the gym. It had been about a month, and you still hadn’t returned to her house. Everyone’s anger had been building up slowly.

“No. Absolutely not.” Alexia shut you down immediately.

“Ale,” you sighed. This wasn’t Alexia’s choice. You had already found a place nearer to the training centre. It was cute with old, patterned tiled flooring and exposed brick.

“No. You're too young to live by yourself.” You sighed, not willing to argue about this again.

“Ale, I … I’ve already got a place. I’ve put a deposit down already. I am moving out,” you sheepishly. The look of horror on her face was laughable. You would have thought you said you were skinning Nala and using her fur as clothing. “Um…” She held up a hand, stopping you from speaking. You had only really told her out of courtesy. You had been back to her house several times when she wasn’t home, slowly packing your stuff. The wardrobes were basically empty already; you just had to take down the decorations. It wasn’t like you had many up anyway. You had always thought of it as you sleeping in Alexia’s spare room; it was never yours. And you didn’t want it to be. You tried to speak again, but she just waved you off, turning on her heels and walking away, shaking her head.

After you had officially moved out, training was more awkward than ever. The older players constantly switched between throwing you sympathetic glances, angry glares, and disappointed looks. You had tried not to let it bother you. It honestly didn’t … for a while. In the beginning, it was nothing you weren’t used to. And then they were muttering about you within earshot. Talking amongst themselves over how rude you had been, they had only tried to help you. You were too young, and you were being disrespectful towards them. It really began to bother you, not to the point where your training and playing were affected, but in your personal life. The team had a definite rift, and you were starting to think you were the cause of it.

It was a random Monday morning when things finally came to a head.

“Oh my god!” Bruna squealed as you lifted your top up and over your head. “What are those, Miss Y/S/N?”

“What are what?” You were very confused. Jana gasped as she also spotted something, pointing at your chest. Hickeys. A line of dark purple splotches littered your chest and stomach.

“Fuck. She said she wouldn’t leave marks.” You groaned. You had gone out on Saturday night after the match with some of the younger girls and ended up leaving with a random girl. It was fun; she had stayed the night, and you had made her a coffee the following day before going your separate ways.

“Was she a vampire, Jesus?” Ona laughed, trying to poke at one of the particularly dark ones.

“Oi,” you battered her hand away, laughing all the same. “I’ve seen the aftermaths of your nights out, young lady. You have no leg to stand on,” laughing harder at the blush blooming on her cheeks.

“What. Are. Those?” Alexia boomed, bringing silence over your little group.

“Um, hickeys?” You answered, already tired of her controlling attitude.

“And how did you get them?” She replied. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“You had sex?” Lucy chimed in, disbelieving you.

“Yeh?” Her eyes widened; you were too young to be having sex. She opened her mouth to speak again. “If you’re about to give me the sex talk, don’t bother. That ship sailed long ago.” That stunned her. You had had sex on multiple occasions? She could feel her brain melting slightly.

“When?” Caro asked quietly, unsure whether she wanted to know that particular answer.

“Before I even came to Barca. I’d just signed my first contract. It was a friend from back home, it was nice. We’re still mates, so,” you filled her and the rest of the changing room in – totally open to confessing when you lost your virginity.

“You are too young to-” Alexia started, planning on berating you for your choices.

“Oh, shut up, Alexia.” You shouted. If you thought the changing room was quiet earlier, you could hear a pin drop now. No one shouted at Alexia. Ever. There were a few supercharged seconds. You refused to break eye contact with her. “I am not. Too. Young. I am a fully grown adult. You need to start realising that.” You looked around. “You all do.” You grabbed a random t-shirt and stormed out of the room.

The room was deadly silent. No one dared speak; no one dared even move for fear of retribution. At least Caro had the decency to look a little ashamed; everyone else was fuming.

A bang on the door broke the silence. “Apresúrate,” Jonatan shouted. The younger girls quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out, keeping their heads low and eyes trailing on the ground.

“That little-” Lucy started.

“Enough.” Ingrid cut her off. Ingrid had seen the way they had been treating you. She had heard the comments about how they deemed you too young to do normal things for a young adult to do. “All of you, enough.” They had never heard Ingrid shout before – irritated, sure, pissed off, yes, angry, never. “I am sick and tired of seeing how you treat that woman. She might have joined the team when she was young. But she is now an adult. And you refuse to see her as such. No wonder she snapped.” Alexia tried to cut in. “No, Ale. I know you mean well; you all do. I don’t doubt that. But you have told her off for going out, for drinking, for having sex. These are all normal things. She is safe, and she is happy. Surely, that is all that matters? If it was me, I would have snapped long, long ago. You are lucky; all she did was shout at you.” She turned to get her things. “Don’t come outside until you’ve thought about how to make this right with her,” Ingrid commanded as she stormed off.

The group was initially angry, ranting and raging over your behaviour, then they were slightly less angry with you and more at themselves. Eventually, they were silent, reflecting on how poorly they treated you. Alexia was the guiltiest. She felt so mortified over her treatment of you. Yes, you were a child when you first joined, but now you were a young woman who wanted her own life. They didn’t know how to apologise to you. As they traipsed into training, you refused to look at them.

Over the next few days, you didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. If they approached you in the canteen, you swiftly moved away. If they tried to pair up with you at training, you ran off before they could ask. They had tried to corner you in the changing rooms, but you had slipped out the door before they could move. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. You had been pleading with them for months, years even, to treat you like an adult and yet, no, you were acting like a stroppy child.

It eventually became too much for the surrounding team, however, as Patri innocently shouted across the room that you would be at home tonight, alone. And Jana had openly yelled back with your full address, watching with quiet amusement as Lucy scribbled it down.

The knock on your door surprised you. It was only 7pm, not too late for anyone to come over, but no one had asked you or told you they would be making an appearance at your home. You didn’t bother looking through the little glass window as you threw open the door, about to question whoever it was. You froze when you were greeted with the sight of Alexia, Lucy, Marta, Caro and Paños. They had various looks of embarrassment on their faces, and Alexia had a big bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“What?” You asked, not really in the mood for them and any efforts they might have to persuade you to move back in with Alexia.

“Can we come in?” Paños asked. You sighed, knowing you would rather not have this conversation in front of your neighbours. Stepping aside, you eyed them carefully as they stepped into your flat.

“I like your place,” Lucy said awkwardly as you all came to rest at the kitchen table.

“Thanks.” You said bluntly, not really in the mood for this.

“Y/N,” Alexia spoke up. “I … we … I would like to apologise for, well, everything. We … I should have recognised that you are not a child. I am truly sorry.”

“Ok …” you looked between the group, all of them echoing similar sentiments.

“Ok? That’s it?” Marta was a little shocked that you were letting them off the hook so quickly.

“Do you want me to be mad at you? Cos, I’ll happily go back to ignoring you.” You answered. “All I ask is that you treat me like the adult I am. Yes, I go out. Yes, I get drunk. Yes, I have casual sex. Yes, I have one-night stands. All of these are normal adult things. The others do the same, yet you don’t jump on their backs about it. I’m just asking for you to treat me the way you treat them … like an adult.”

It was a slow process, and a few stray comments were still muttered under their breaths, but you could see they were trying. That’s all you could ask for—that they tried.

I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't quite sure how to end it - if you couldn't tell ahahaha <3 There may be a pt2

[thetriumphantpanda]

she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller

Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 4K

Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.

Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 

You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 

Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 

It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 

“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 

“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 

“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 

His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”

“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 

“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 

You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 

“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 

You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 

You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 

“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 

“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 

“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 

“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 

You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 

“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 

“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 

“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 

“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 

It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 

He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Get undressed.” 

This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 

Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 

“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 

His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 

“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 

“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 

“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 

“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 

“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 

“Fifteen?” 

“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 

“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 

“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 

Smack.

“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 

Smack.

“F-four.” 

Smack.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”

Smack.

This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 

“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 

It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 

The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 

“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 

You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 

“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 

“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 

“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 

“I remember.” 

He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 

Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 

You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 

You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 

“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 

You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 

“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 

“I g-got myself off.” 

“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 

“N-no?” You question. 

“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 

His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 

“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 

“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 

You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 

“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 

You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 

“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 

“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 

He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 

You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 

“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 

Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 

He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 

He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 

You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 

Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 

The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 

“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 

“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 

It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 

You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 

“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 

He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 

“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 

He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 

He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 

“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 

“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.

“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 

“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D WIRELESS 2021 - WEEKLY WRAP-UP #1

Turn up the music, turn down the lights We got a feelin' this fest gonna be alright Okay (okay), alright It's about damn time!! 🎵🎉

🎤 Welcome to our 6th round of H/D Wireless!

The time finally came to start posting all the fantastic entries we’ve received this year!

We’ve so far revealed 18 top hits, with many more to come. The mods have been working nonstop since December to make this happen so we’re super excited to finally be back 🤩

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there)

And here for YouTube

And now without further ado, our Wrap-up for the first week of posting:

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 close to fine [T, digital art]

🎵 Song Prompt: A Litany/Heart Swells by Los Campesinos 🎵 Summary The thing about summer is that the clock that rules the rest of our lives is temporarily turned off.

📻 Every Feeling That I Get [T, digital art]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'I Hate Everything About You' by 'Three Days Grace' 🎵 Summary The events from their malicious past somehow bring Harry and Draco together in a new way.

📻 Dancing All Alone [Gen, digital art]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Spike the Punch' by 'Alex Lahey' 🎵 Summary Harry and Draco sneak away to make a party of their own.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 An Emerald In The Sky [M, 6.670]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Lost in Time and Space' by 'Lord Huron' 🎵 Summary The hardest part about shagging an Unspeakable is that they’re not allowed to speak of anything. All Draco knows is that Harry works in Time. Harry works in Time, and while he’s out there in all of that time, it is as unforgiving to him as it is to anyone. Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles.

📻 In Free Fall [E, 81.185]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Bonkers' by Dizzee Rascal 🎵 Summary Draco Malfoy is a serious university student whose idea of a good time is translating Ancient Greek texts and having game night with his small circle of friends. Harry Potter is a hard-partying adrenaline junkie who’s happiest when he’s leaping from an airplane or hurtling over a waterfall in a kayak. They have nothing in common. But when they reconnect in the Muggle world, curiosity prompts them to strike up a deal. Draco will show Harry what it's like to be a swotty overachiever and Harry will show Draco what it's like to live life dangerously. It'll be fun, and really, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like Draco's going to fall in love with the guy or anything.

📻 Everything We Have [E, 5.034]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Heart' by 'Sleeping At Last' 🎵 Summary When Ron leaves the Horcrux hunt and Hermione goes after him, Harry finds solace in Malfoy, the fourth member of their party. Feeling broken and uncertain as they wait on a riverbank in Wales, together they find that some things are worth the risk.

📻 Closer [M, 5.150]

🎵 Song Prompt: Something to Talk About by Bonnie Raitt 🎵 Summary All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

📻 Mens Rea [E, 3.171]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Laid' by James 🎵 Summary Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed. “Draco Malfoy, how do you plead?” I’m super fucking guilty.

📻 Butterflies in Winter [M, 19.725]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Suspirium' by 'Thom Yorke' 🎵 Summary Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though. And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

📻 You Know the Feeling [M, 12.148]

🎵 Song Prompt: Official by Charli XCX 🎵 Summary Harry waits, but the hex never comes. In the mirror, Malfoy’s eyes dip shut, and he lets out a soft sound that goes right through Harry, heat rising in his body, pushing out against his chest. Malfoy turns slowly, careful not to dislodge Harry’s hand. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, then speaks, his voice low. “Don’t start something you won’t finish.” Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

📻 Anymore [T, 2.079]

🎵 Song Prompt: Anymore by Jeon Somi 🎵 Summary For now I’ll be stuck in this beautiful nightmare ‘til you come back I’ll be standing right here Do I ever cross your mind anymore?

📻 To Make A Way [E, 5.460]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Chinese New Year' by 'SALES' 🎵 Summary When Harry finds Draco in the back row of the cinema, he doesn't mean to accidentally befriend him. Or fuck him. Or catch feelings. The thing is, Draco only does casual.

📻 I Wanna Be On You [E, 6.565]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Dance to This' by Troye Sivan and Ariana Grande 🎵 Summary What is it about Draco singing off-key in their kitchen that pushes Harry to admit his feelings? One thoughtful act between roommates that leads to so much more.

📻 To the dust again I fell [M, 2.586]

🎵 Song Prompt: Wishing Well by The Oh Hellos 🎵 Summary Harry finds a beaten and unconscious Draco dying in a back alley in New York City. He just can't leave him like that and takes him to St. Jouge's, where he finds out exactly what happened. Only he realizes he's in way over his head.

📻 Paper Rings [E,50.000]

🎵 Song Prompt: Paper Rings by Taylor Swift 🎵 Summary When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart. What Harry and Draco used to be is all in the past. And surely they can work together in these new, emotionally charged circumstances without falling in love all over again… can’t they?

📻 Stuck Inside the Silence [T, 2.818]

🎵 Song Prompt: Papercut by Zedd ft. Troye Sivan 🎵 Summary It feels like they're lying at the bottom of a pit so deep and dark they could never climb back out, but Harry has never been the kind to give up, and so Draco won't either. They'll fight their way to the top and when they look back they'll see, it was just a pothole in the road of their lives together.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Drive a Little Slower [G, 13:20]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Long Drive' by 'Jason Mraz' 🎵 Summary He silently willed Harry to drive a little slower. To let him pretend a little longer. A podfic of bluefay's fic.

📻 Every Leaf That Unfurls, Every Petal That Blooms [T, 36:02]

🎵 Song Prompt: So this is love by Ilene Woods (Cinderella) 🎵 Summary Draco can’t keep cacti alive, let alone flowers. None of this stops Neville Longbottom from giving him potted earth with promises of a seed nestled inside. “Don’t worry,” he assures Draco. “Harry will help.” Which makes no sense—surely Potter’s saviour complex doesn’t extend to plants! Spoiler: it does, leading to Potter coming over to Draco’s place for dinner more frequently than ever. Or, the one where everyone knows that Harry and Draco are dating...except them.

[jonathansthickthighs]

Yandere! Fushiguro Toji x Reader: Part Four

Description: You have a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Trigger Warnings: nsfw, yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, AFAB reader, toxic behavior, threats, jealousy, possessive behavior, desperate toji, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), daddy kink, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s), soft toji, toji has feelings, slight sub toji?

A/N: part five will the last one of this mini series. enjoy! :)

Not edited!

You sat by the window, as a deluge of thoughts flooded your mind. Absently, your fingers traced the delicate contours of the pearl necklace gifted to you by your boyfriend the evening before.

You had been dating for two months now and you couldn’t deny this was the pinnacle of emotional fulfillment you had ever experienced with a man. He treated you like no other, he was so soft and gentle with you, you never imagined a man being this good to you. His gestures of affection unfailingly making you swoon, gifting you flowers weekly, getting you whichever snacks you were craving, taking you new places, even buying expensive gifts like the one you had around your neck. You weren’t aware he could even afford such artifacts, ignorant to the fact that bounty hunters were so well off.

It had been a great couple of months, but you had to admit to yourself that you were terrified. You were scared of how things might turn out in the future. The subject of marriage and children has arisen in discussion with Toji several times, leaving you unsure of where you stood on your own desires. You hadn’t known each other long enough and up until now, your relationship may be all flowers and rainbows, but that didn’t guarantee your expectations would still be met in the future. After all, only two months have passed since you met Toji.

You weren’t against marriage at your age, but children, on the other hand, were a touchy subject to you. You wanted to enjoy your 20s to their fullest and you were aware that a child, while being a blessing, would also intake an enormous sense of responsibility that you weren’t ready for at this age. Toji had quite a few years on you and his desire for a family was evident. He had expressed his desire to having children before turning forty, leaving you around four more years to enjoy your stress free, youthful life.

You were broken out of your mental battle when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“You’ve been lost in thought an awful lot today, sweetheart. You’re not thinking about leaving me are you?” Toji joked as he nuzzled his face into your sensitive neck, eliciting a cascade of giggles from your lips.

“Of course not, Toji. I’d be a fool to throw away a cock like yours.” You quipped back, pivoting to encircle your arm around his shoulders in a tender embrace.

“Oh, so you’re just using me for my body? I’m hurt, baby.” Toji chuckled, closing the space between you as he pressed his lips to yours. He moved his lips against yours vigorously, squeezing your waist against his, rutting his hardening, clothed cock against your stomach. You immediately responded, kissing him with the same enthusiasm. You ran your hands through his narrow waist down to his bottom, giving him a playful squeeze, forcing a giggle out of him.

You cracked your eyes open, peaking at the clock on the wall behind Toji. As realization dawned, your eyes widened as you noticed the time, prompting you to swiftly detangle yourself from Toji’s embrace. “Shit, babe. I promised the girls I would meet them half an hour ago. I gotta go!” You exclaimed, making Toji tense up. As you began to depart, you were stopped by his firm grip on your arm, drawing you back against his chest.

“Come on, doll. Just a quicky, you’re already late anyways.” He insisted, trying to seem nonchalant about the situation. In reality, Toji fucking detested when you went out with your friends. The thought of men approaching you, trying to flirt with you, offering to pay for your drinks made him lose his mind. Hell, the mere thought of other men looking at you was enough to drive him over the edge. His darkest thoughts were screaming to lock you up in a place were he could be the only one to look at you; the only way those thoughts dissipated was with the image of you recoiling in horror at him. The thought made his chest tighten, your hatred was something he would never be able to live with.

Despite the infrequency of your meetups with your friends, his desire to wanting you all to himself was insatiable. Never had he imagined himself yearning so fervently for a woman’s attention; it had always been the other way around, but for you, he was willing to beg on his knees for an ounce of your attention.

“As much as I want to, I’ve already ditched my friends too many times to be with you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You answered apologetically pressing a kiss on his cheek. Toji tried to mask his disappointment, but this time he wasn’t as good at hiding his expression.

“Please, sweetheart. I want you so bad, can’t you feel it?” Toji begged with frustration evident in his voice, grabbing your hand to place it on top of his raging bulge. He began using your hand to rub himself, grunting at the pleasurable sensations you were bringing him with just your hand. “Please…” He pleaded weakly, desperation lacing his voice.

You groaned, feeling defeated as your panties started to dampened at the sight. You were quick to attach your lips into his parted ones, tongues fighting each other as you continued teasing his cock over his sweatpants. You separated your lips from his causing him to whine at the loss of your soft lips.

Once you decided you had teased his cock enough, you tugged his waistband down, freeing his aching cock. You bit your lip as you tentatively stroked his cock in slow motions, gaining a hiss from him. Running you thumb over the reddened tip, you gathered the oozing precum, spreading it over the rest of his shaft. You wanted him, badly.

“Tell me what you want, Toji.” You whispered, peppering open mouthed kissed all over his neck. He couldn’t bring himself to respond as he started thrusting his hips into your hand. Having you jerk him off with your hands was something else, he couldn’t have done it better himself. Your hands were so much softer than his, the velvety skin of your hand wrapping around him could almost make him finish then and there. “Answer me, Toji.” You demanded, squeezing his cock enough to catch his attention.

“I n-need to f-fuck you, sweetheart.” Toji managed to utter out.

Smirking, you responded. “Then beg for it.”

Toji groaned, throwing his head back as your painfully slow stroking continued. He would never admit it, but having you be this demanding was a huge turn on to him. Believing submission was characteristic of women only, he never let himself experience anything remotely close. All his life he had been the one in control, never letting his guard down for any woman. You unveiled facets of him he never imagined existed.

“Please. I n-need to feel your pussy!” Toji beseeched impatiently and you rewarded him with a radiant smile. You released his cock from your grip, guiding him towards the bed. Pushing him on the bed, you began to undress slowly, pulling the straps from you dress down to reveal your tits to him.

You grabbed your breasts, massaging them and playing with your nipples, putting on a show for Toji. He gawked at you lustfully as he reached for his cock to stroke himself as he watched you. Playfully, you slapped his hand away. “I didn’t give you permission to do that, you pervert.” You retorted, giving him a sly smile.

Toji’s mouth was agape in disbelief, bewildered at this side of you. “I am not a pervert, sweetheart!” He exclaimed, failing to suppress his laugh.

You giggled before responding. “Oh yeah? You’re stroking your cock to this defenseless girl standing in front of you. Does that not make you a pervert?”

“Well that defenseless girl is touching herself like a slut in front of me. I’m pretty sure she wants me to jerk off to her.” He replied, starting to tug on his cock once again.

You bit your lip, enjoying the way his gaze felt on you. “I think you might be right this time.” You admitted as you decided to finish undressing for him. It was impossible for Toji to get tired of looking at your delectable body. He could easily make himself come by merely admiring your nudity.

Once all your clothes were discarded, you climbed on top of him. Settling yourself on top of his shaft, you moaned at the contact your sensitive clit made with his cock. You began grinding your heat on his cock, making him groan. You were so wet for him, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside you.

“You want me to ride your cock, daddy?” You suggested seductively as you continued teasing the both of you.

“Fuck. Yes, baby, please.” He nodded, eager to feel your tight, warm snatch engulf him in its delightful glory.

You wasted no time grabbing his cock, pressing him against your wet entrance before lowering yourself carefully onto him, making the two of you moan. You still weren’t accustomed to his size, so you needed some time before you could move comfortably. Continuing to lower yourself until he was fully sheathed inside your heat, you placed your hands on his chest for support. Toji grabbed the fat your ass as he threw his head back onto the bed. He was certain he would never tire of this feeling, your pussy was simply made for him.

“Pussy’s s’good, baby.” Toji slurred, relishing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him. The sight of you riding his hard cock was breathtaking. He noticed you it had gotten comfortable once you started slowly moving. You rose your hips until only his tip was remaining before lowering yourself onto him to a halt, making him grunt at the sudden piquancy he felt. After that you proceeded to ride his cock in swift, steady motions, stroking his cock with your dripping pussy. He couldn’t help himself from feeling hypnotized by your stunning form as you rode him. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape as your tits bounced with each stroke. The sight was was orgasmic.

“Your cock is so deep inside me, Toji!” The sweet moans and screams leaving your lips were like music to his ears. The way you said his name turned him on to the extent he would do absolutely anything to hear it come out of your mouth.

He groaned as you worked his cock, sliding his hands up from your bum, making his way through your waist until he finally reached your breasts. He kneaded them thoroughly, making you let out a moan. You sped up your pace, the squelching noise of your thrusts meeting, filling the room. Toji leaned forward taking one of your perky nipple into his warm mouth, suckling like he was starved.

You whimpered at the stimulation you were feeling, as Toji gave your other nipple the same treatment. Continuing to jump on his cock like a madwoman, you could feel your orgasm approaching. When Toji felt your walls starting to tighten around him he grabbed a hold of your waist, holding you still before he started thrusting his generous cock into your sopping heat.

“Oh my— fuck! I’m gonna come all over your cock, Toji!” You cried out, feeling your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

“T-that’s it, sweetheart. Use me. M-make yourself come with my cock. Let me hear you.” Toji uttered out shakily as he continued to stimulate your sensitive nipples, grunting into them. The prominent noise in the room being the sound of the slapping of your skins and your moans and pants of satisfaction.

You moaned loudly when you felt your orgasm arrive. “Yes. Yes. Yes! Toji!” With that, you let it all out, throwing your head back, your dripping pussy clenching deliciously around his cock. His thrusts didn’t seize, continuing to drill your pussy with the need to reach his own release.

He called out your name as he felt his orgasm approaching. “I’m gonna fuckin’ come, sweetheart. Are you gonna take it, baby?” Toji announced as he watched your beautiful face, you were in a daze, your eyes half lidded looking at the man that was causing you such pleasure.

“I want all of it, gimme your cum, T-Toji.” You managed to slur out, using the last of your strength to hold yourself up on his chest. That was all it took for Toji to start thrusting up into your pussy erratically, your clenching pussy making him quiver out his orgasm.

“You’re fucking mine!” Toji growled, throwing his head back as your wet cunt milked his semen out of him, sending it deep into your womb. Get fucking pregnant! His intrusive thoughts made themselves present as his thrust began getting sloppy, his legs trembling in ecstasy.

“A-ah, I love you so much, sweetheart.” Toji stuttered out as he finished releasing inside of you.

Shocked, you looked at a drowsy looking Toji. “Did you just—?”

Toji parted his lips to speak, only to close them once more. Those words escaped him unwittingly, unleashing them from the depths of his pent up emotions, before he could muster the restraint to withhold them. Internally, he was having a battle with himself, trying to make it seem like an accident. He harbored uncertainty about how you would feel about him after only knowing him for two months. He had loved you since before you even knew of his existence and these feelings kept accumulating over time inside him; he couldn’t stand it any longer, so his body reacted for him.

“I love you.” He repeated without breaking eye contact with you. The shock on your face was evident, sending a tremor of apprehension through him. He was terrified of you never loving him back, he dreaded the prospect of your affection remaining beyond his grasp forever.

“I-I love you too, Toji.” Toji’s gaze widened in surprise, his eyes dilated at the unexpected revelation from you. His heart felt like it was going to burst and his cheeks were tinted pink. The happiness he felt surpassed anything he had ever deemed attainable. His mind was on a frenzy, he finally achieved what he wanted most in life. Incredulity washed over him, this must surely be a dream. She loves me back. She loves me back. She loves me back. She loves me.

Toji couldn’t suppress the smile creeping to his face. He didn’t thinking his heart could beat any faster until he watched you smile right back at him before breaking eye contact with him. You could even look at him straight in the eye and your face had gotten an angry shade of red from the mixture of the sex and the confession. Such a shy little thing. Even after two months of knowing each other you were still shy around him. He thought it was lovely.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, sweetheart. I was scared you wouldn’t love me back.” Toji admitted, reaching out to caress your soft cheek. His cock had been inside you through all of this, so he decided to slowly pull it out, making the two of you hiss from the overstimulation.

“I do, Toji. I’m deeply in love with you.” You revealed, leaving Toji astonished and with his heart dancing chaotically in his chest. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, enjoying the intimate moment. You never anticipated falling in love agains so soon, yet it unfolded before you as if ordained by faith. You thought meeting Toji was destiny. Climbing off of him, you snuggled to his side.

“Alright, alright, Toji. You’ve once again, managed convinced me to stay home with you.” Home. Toji loved the sound of that. He couldn’t wait to have his own little house with you, he had been taking up extra bounties to be able to afford one. As soon as you accepted his marriage proposal, he would buy a home for just the two of you. Although he was ready to have children with you right now, he knew you weren’t keen on the idea having children at your age. Toji’s not sure if he can honor your wishes, but he would try. Unless the situation called for other means.

Toji looked smug at your comment, fully aware that if you had decided to still go out, he would try to convince you to stay any other way. “You know you love staying in with me.” Toji replied, pulling you tighter into his chest causing you to let out a giggle.

You tried to detangle yourself from him, but his grip on you impeded it.

“I need to use the restroom, stop being clingy.” You quipped with a laugh, making him loosen his grip on you. Toji felt a little hurt. Were you really joking or did you truly think he was clingy? Insecurity flooded his mind as he watched you head to the restroom.

His thoughts were interrupted by some distant vibrations. Toji sat up from the bed to see your phone vibrating in the nightstand. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the caller ID. It was one of your friends, these were the people trying to steal you from him.

“Hey.” He answered coldly, the other line was silent for a second.

“Um, Toji?” The girl asked confused at not being greeted by her best friend as per usual.

“What do you want?” Toji questioned discourteously, not caring about feigning kindness with her this time. He was going to take any means necessary to drive you away from your friends. Your friends were but vermin, unworthy of the mere touch if your presence. Not an ounce of trust did he have for them. The thought of them trying to cloud your mind with doubts about your relationship ignited an indescribable fury within him. These women were going to taint your perception of him and he would not stand for that. Not to mention, most of them were single and he hated the image of them manipulating you into acting like you are as well.

He could tell your friend was taken a back by his bluntness, bewildered by his change in charisma. Every time they had met he always appeared so courteous and seemingly genuine, she did not expect this attitude from your boyfriend. “I-It’s just— we’ve been waiting for over an hour and a half and we got worried. Is she going to make it?”

Toji chuckled darkly before lowering his voice, assuring you didn’t hear him. “Listen here, you stupid bitch. Haven’t you gotten the clue she doesn’t want to see you anymore? She’s always cancelling your little outings and making up excuses to not see you. It’s been two months since you last saw her, get a fucking grip and accept it. She’s not your friend anymore.” He spat out harshly, earning a audible gasp from your friend.

“D-did she really tell you that?” Your friend stuttered in disbelief. It was unbeknownst to her you felt this way. Were you really truly willing to cast aside all these years of friendship? She had known you for so many years, it was hard to believe you felt this way.

Toji hummed in response. “Are you fucking dumb? I’m her boyfriend, she’s obviously going to confide everything in me. I’m just doing her a favor by letting you know, so stop waisting our time and stay out of our lives.” Toji replied, a threatening tone in his voice. Should this endeavor fail, he would be forced to resort to drastic measures, but hopefully the message was unequivocally conveyed. He could hear your friend sniffle on the other line, making him smirk maliciously.

“You asshole! Tell that bitch to never talk to me again!” Your friend sobbed hysterically before hanging up, making Toji chuckle in amusement. He didn’t appreciate the name-calling, but he opted to overlook it, comforted by the knowledge that he would never have to endure her presence ever again.

Toji returned your phone to its originally resting place before reclining back into the bed, allowing the comfort of the mattress to envelop him. He pondered to himself as he heard you starting to run a shower. He bore the weight of knowing that this would impact you deeply and he despised himself for causing you pain in this manner. Yet, he remained resolute, convincing himself it was necessary for the wellbeing of your relationship. How else were you supposed to tend for him and your children if your friends were always stealing your attention?

He observed you emerge from the bathroom, reaching to grab your phone. “I should call them to tell them I’m not going to make it again.” You spoke as you started to unlock you phone. Toji placed his hand on top of your screen and you stood there taken aback.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your friend called while you were in the bathroom and I let them know.” Toji responded with a smile, his gaze tender and affectionate as you reciprocated his smile.

“Thanks, Toji. You’re the sweetest.” You showed your gratitude by pressing a kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help the guilt that took over him, he knew how much your friends meant to you.

“Shall we shower together?” Toji suggested playfully —attempting to keep his mind off what he had just done— grabbing your phone from your hand and placing it back on the nightstand. His eyes ranked through your still nude form, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, his cock rising back to life. Yeah, your pretty little body would make him forget in no time. You bit your lip, agreeing as he closed the gap between you, bestowing upon you a fervent kiss filled with longing.

Now that you had Toji you wouldn’t need anybody else.

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Friday

Oh Sieun ICE Oh Rosi (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, anal, uniform, clothed sex, rough anal, uhh anal, loud sex, fuck buddy, fwb, ANAL

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: Based very loosely on Friday by IU actually, but like in a really really perverted way. Also based on Hang On by Jo Yuri babygurl lol. I hope the emotions I want to portray come across well lmao

Your phone buzzed as you set it at 0% volume. The sparkly bits of the curb shone the orange sunlight into your eyes. Worried about Sieun, you resolved to be a bit early for your regular Friday "date" with her, but the loud angry voices and clanging sounds coming from within her house gave you the impression that she was… busy. At this rate, the six-pack of beer you brought for the two of you would be warm before you even see her.

You leaned back onto the side of her house, waiting for the noises to stop, fiddling with your phone, picking at the gravel beneath your shoes. It was a good spot, the one you’re sitting at, just out of view from the front door in case anyone leaves. You’re not here to intrude, just worried about your… friend. Yeah, just a friend.

Friends look out for each other, after all. They’re supposed to offer support in the times and ways their friends need them to. That’s all you’re doing, just offering support to your friend. Your friend who invites you over to her house to fuck on a weekly basis. Your friend who recently came her brains out in a school restroom with you. Your friend whose visuals while sucking your cock are burned into your mind and easily accessible whenever you need a quick release. 

A voice rings loud from near their front door. You try to hide yourself more, but with such an open space, there’s not much to do. You’re sure you hear Sieun yelling, followed by a loud slam of a door and trudging steps leading away from the house. 

You place your phone in your backpack and, once the coast is clear, you walk up quietly, respectfully, to the poor front door. Before your knuckles come into contact with the wood, the door swings open to reveal your friend, teary-eyed and distraught.

“Look, I– I’m fine,” she says between sobs and ragged breaths. She keeps her eyes shut and covered with her hands as she tries her best not to ruin her makeup. “There’s no reason to…”

You cut her off then and there; whatever’s bothering her can wait. The door shuts and she suddenly finds her back is shoved up against the wall and your hands on her shoulders. Your sudden attack catches her off guard, but your friend is more than willing to let your tongue into her mouth like she always does. She moans a little moan as you lick her tongue back, and she places her hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place. 

Pull away and give her some breathing room. Notice her unsteady breathing, her tears running down her cheeks. “I brought beer,” you mention casually as if you didn’t just take her breath away, “might be warm by now. Let’s drink it after.”

“I-” is all she can say before you come in for another torrid kiss. Despite a bit more hesitance from her, she welcomes your tongue back in her mouth and tries to match your energy. Run your hands down the sides of her uniform and reach the hem of her skirt. Without breaking the kiss, you open your eyes and find hers closed, with a tear forming and falling down her cheek. She must be really upset. 

Thinking she must really need this, you choose not to waste any more time and grab your friend's ass through her panties under her skirt. She lets out an “ah~” when she feels you kneading the flesh of her butt and melts back into your kiss deeply. You pick her up by her behind, and her legs wrap around your waist as she gets lifted up off the ground. 

You’ve done this a million times by now; you know the way from the front door to her bedroom like the back of your hand. You know it so well that it was no issue at all to carry her there without breaking the kiss. Throw her onto the mattress, forcing her bedframe to groan and creak like you’ve heard countless nights before. She looks at you expectantly, maybe a bit scared, definitely like she forgot about what was on her mind earlier. Now you’ve got her. 

Your shirt leaves your body and you join her in bed, taking your royal place beside her. She captures your lips with hers again, but surprisingly just after a few seconds she pulls you down to her neck. 

Thinking nothing of the new "interests" she now has, you attack her neck, gently biting and licking at her skin and causing her to groan at the feeling of you ravaging previously untouched territory. You enjoy how she feels against your lips and the sweet smell of her long hair that you’ve never been allowed to sniff before. 

She brings your hand over to her thighs, and you graciously start squeezing them and feeling her soft and smooth skin. You found it weird she hasn't asked for your dick yet, but you gather she's still shaken from her earlier fight with whoever that was. Give her time to settle, but also give her the love she needs.

Feeling her thighs warming up, you inch your hand closer to her waiting core. Her legs part and allow access, and you find a large wet spot right over her sex. Pull aside the thin fabric and trace circles around her nub, bite and pull at the skin of her neck. She grows wetter by the second, and moans spill out of her mouth faster than you can rub her off. 

"No marks, please…" she whimpers, obviously flustered but not yet fully needy: just a bit more. 

You respond with another kiss and an attempt to insert two fingers into her leaking pussy, but she pushes your hand away.

“In my ass…” She whispers quietly to you, as if ashamed of wanting it. Your friend shifts to lie on her side and face away from you, presenting you with her pink, virgin asshole. 

Never minding her choices for today, you reach for a condom and the unopened bottle of lube in her nightstand. You strip yourself of your pants and put the rubber on by yourself. You slather lube first on your erect cock, and put some on your fingers before sliding one of them into your friend's butt. 

"Oh oppa, that's good…" she moans as you invade deeper and deeper into her ass. You try finding her good spots inside her tight asshole, but resolve to just get it over with and fuck her as quick as you can. Forget about how she isn’t as chatty as she typically is, forget how oppa is a nickname you’ve never heard from her before. Just forget, and make sure she remembers this, you, instead.

Steady her with a hand on her hip, grip the side of her uniform, line up your rock-hard cock with her waiting hole. Fighting back your lust for the gorgeous woman in bed with you, you give her a taste by inserting your head slowly into her. She sucks in air between her teeth and hisses her pleasure quietly. 

"Mmm…" she tries to contain a loud moan you're sure she wouldn't have been able to hold back if you fucked her as hard as you usually do. Go easy, she needs to relax today. 

You push your cock deeper and deeper into her despite her weak protests. She tries fighting, whispering "not too deep, please," and taking your hand from her hip to grip it hard between hers. You find it increasingly difficult to keep from plowing her as hard as you can, and the way her tight asshole stretches to take you isn't doing you any favors.

A sense of confusion creeps into your mind: you know she takes rougher than this from you all the time, but she seems to genuinely be hurting now. On the other hand, if she's hurting then she would just say your safe word and get herself some breathing room. You soldier on (you know how sick she is in the head), but take extra care not to hurt your friend too bad.

Soon after, your continued thrusts start earning her sweet moans instead. She acclimates to your cock rubbing against the insides of her ass and even starts meeting your thrusts into her. Feel her plump ass on your pelvis, admire how your friend’s skin is smooth against yours. Pull her close, never mind the wrinkles that form on the formerly clean-pressed white blazer she has on. 

There’s no reason to muffle her this time, she can be as loud as she likes. She can bite and kick and scream for all you care, all you need is her to feel as good as she always does on Friday nights. 

“I-I’m close…” Relish in how pliant, how willing, how submissive she is for you. How she takes you so obediently despite her pain like she knows you own her. Her eagerness and the way her insides squeeze your cock so lovingly drive you crazy. As much as you want this night to last forever, you know it’s about to end. 

Fuck her faster. Make sure she feels every vein on your cock, make her yours as her throat sores with her groans.

Pound her harder. She’s pulling at her bedsheets, voice quaking, straining to keep her sanity. Her asshole clenches around you, trying to keep you all for herself.

With a final deep thrust, your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. Bury your thick cock as deep as humanly possible into the woman of your dreams. Your dick twitches and sends waves of pleasure up her spine as her voice strains for higher and higher notes to match her ecstasy. 

At the same time, she's forced over the edge of her sanity and falls into a purgatory of mind-numbing pleasure. She lets out stream after stream of her cum onto the sheets and mattress. Her bite marks imprint on the pillow case, as does whatever ruined makeup she was wearing. 

You both come down from your highs, and you spend a minute, at most two, cuddling her. Finally, expending your energy to peek at whether she's still alert and aware, you get up and lean on your elbow only to find her eyes lazily half-shut, her breathing deep and slow, and her tongue out and resting on the pillow too. 

Remind yourself: this is your friend. This isn't the woman of your dreams; it can't be. Why would you even think otherwise? What else could there be between the two of you? Nothing at all, just friends.

You make sure she's comfortable in bed, drape a blanket over her, and leave her bedroom. On your way out, you place the six-pack of beer into the fridge. 

The walk back home is quiet and somber, like a shower of rain hanging in the sky that’s too stubborn to fall. Must be the post-nut clarity, but you start to wonder: why was Sieun so submissive this time? Why was she letting you kiss her neck, fuck her ass? And what the hell was that uniform?

You vaguely notice your phone vibrate at the bottom of your backpack. You reach in and fish it out, absent-mindedly unlocking it and reading your notifications.

Twenty-seven missed calls.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: and there you have it! if im being totally honest this was really awkward to write but i hope the anal part earns me a little bit of exp for the next time i write it. btw the emotions i wanted to portray were awkward and weird and conflicted lol. as always feedback is always welcome and i look forward your asks and dms all the time :)))) 

[undercoverpena]

2. lemon twist

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter two of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.4k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie being a single!dad to a son. frankie gives reader/you a nickname (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: thank you so much for all the love on chapter one, and the bonus graphic. I'm so happy to bring you chapter two! also, WE'RE POSTING WEEKLY BABIESSS

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

A soft, melodic tune pulls you into the land of the living, aware of the tug of it, and the immediate reluctance you have to leave the comfort of your dreams.

Your hand hesitates, reluctant to emerge from under the snug warmth of your sheets before your fingers are tapping and searching, all sluggish with sleep, groping blindly as it crawls against the wooden top of your bedside table. It's only when your fingertips connect with the screen does the world fall into silence.

Nothingness. Stillness. Peace.

The perfect environment for your mind to come to itself as you slowly open your lashes, raising a balled-up fist to rub slumber away, as your gaze meets streams of light rolling in through the breeze-blown curtains.

Then it hits you.

Comes to you in a trickle. Then a flood.

One after the other, memories of last night rush over you. Messages sent and received coming to you, recalling the way you'd tucked a pillow under your chest as your thumbs replied quickly to each incoming DM. Then, you recall the giddiness, how it fluttered through you—how it still remains. Still ever-present and very much thrumming inside of you as you begin to smile.

It remains on your face as you roll out of bed. A brief memory of something he said making you laugh as you wash your face, and another when you brush your teeth.

That feeling stays with you as the sun glistens through your kitchen window. One which adds a glow to the place, making the little smoke stains on the walls and the chips on the kitchen counter seem better, less noticeable—and less irritating.

You smirk as you wrap your hand around your mug—because is it too soon to wish him a good morning? Should you wait for him?

Sighing, rolling your eyes, you land on the dresser you were sprucing up in the place a dining table should be. Your eyes linger on it—teeth picking at the skin on your lip—just as it does so each time you come in this room.

A reminder once again that this place should be a home you’ve been building for years, and not just the last few months. There should be photos on the walls of a relationship playing out alongside family and friends, but those ones placed in between are still just empty.

Like so much of your home.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you drop your stare to the newspaper under the feet of the dresser. The stories were told in black and white splotches over in many shades, dotted around as you tested and checked to see what would make the old, worn thing look like something new. The same thing you’d somehow managed to get delivered through a smile and a sweet, please.

You had been, for so long, undecided on the shade.

Yet, as you gaze upon it now, your imagination begins to weave a vivid portrait. It conjures the image of what it might resemble should you succumb to the shade that's gradually painting itself in imaginary strokes.

Sliding your phone from your pocket, you open up your DMs.

Does butterscotch orange come in a paint type suitable for wood? It does. You at work today? Desperate to see me? Just looking to help someone shift paint they can’t sell. What you looking to paint, Rainy?

Taking another sip of your drink, the warmth kisses your palm similar to the temperature blooming in your cheeks from conversing with him again.

Choosing, instead of words, to snap a photo, knowing it'll be easier, simpler.

Watching it send, the little speech bubble appearing as your mind drifts to the hair above his lip, the facial hair along his jaw—the little patch you’d wanted to graze your thumb over.

You think of the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles; when he’d looked pleased to see you in the paint aisle—something akin to a modern-day meet cute you see on the TV.

You coming in today? If I can… gives me something to do this afternoon.

You bite your lip, considering it—whether it’s too forward to make a flirtatious comment. The two of you skirted around it last night, practically river dancing—not quite stepping over, but not quite retreating either.

I’ll get you it ready at the main desk. My hero, Frank.DIY Don’t push it.

It’s the third visit you’ve made, and while you gloss over the paint chippings on the door, you do notice the circular stains on the floor.

They’re brown, smudged slightly at the edges as though someone has, at one time, attempted to clean (whatever it was) quickly after it had appeared. It’s clear they had failed.

Your eyes scan over it, for a moment forgetting anything and everything.

Just existing in today's scent, which happens to be singed wood—chippings of it practically in the air—as the sound of an electrical saw starts up and begins screeching in some distant corner until you hear your name being called.

And it silences everything.

That voice could pull you from anything, you think.

A crisis, your thoughts, a spiral.

You’d heard his voice plenty all last night as you watched videos of him hanging shelves, answering questions likely sent to him on how best to prime a wooden handrail, and still, you weren't sure you were sick of his voice.

That, and DIY had honestly never sounded so hot.

After the shortest walk to the counter, a brief hello, a grin you wish you could try and smother a touch, you’re leaning on the counter. His eyes focused on you, watching every move you make as though looking anywhere else would be a crime.

“You got a Sharpie there?”

Frowning, you feel you can breathe easier when his eyes drop to the counter—rustling around the till area as you rest your elbow.

“Because I forgot mine and I think I should ask for a signature this time.”

Pausing, he slowly lifts his chin, then eyes. “Funny.”

Shrugging, you grin, watching him ring up the tin—occasionally smirking to himself, before shaking his head as you pay, your phone vibrating on the counter that you continue to ignore.

“You gonna be alright with that?”

Scrunching your nose, you pocket your phone and tilt the can on the counter. “Painting a dresser or carrying this to my car?”

Something sparkles in his eyes, a little shimmer. His mouth opening, likely ready to spill nothing but charm and flirtation again, when another voice cuts through—one gruffer, more tinged in age.

“Francisco, what you d—oh, I see.”

Your smile remains, even as you stare up at the older man—the one with wiry whites and spotted greys you’d seen sitting behind the counter on the day you left to get coffee with Francisco.

It’s notable, how smaller, and thinner the older man is—how he moves like he’s pained by each step until he slumps into a chair and puts on the brightest and biggest of smiles before offering his hand.

“The name’s Harry.”

You look at it, only briefly, flicking your eyes to Frankie who looks like he’s wishing the earth would open up at his feet and swallow him whole. A somewhat twisted, forced blank expression and the mildest of eye rolls follow when your hand slips inside Harry’s, offering your name.

“Thought it was Harold,” Frankie says, rather bitterly.

“You have to call me Harold, but she can call me Harry.”

Smirking, you bite your tongue, rolling your lips as you smooth down your blouse—trying not to make any more eye contact with the man you’d really come to see.

Sliding the paint closer to you, you offer a softer smile, one that is nothing short of kind. “It was lovely to meet you Harry, and I’ll see—“

“—Rainy.”

His voice cut through as the can slid from the counter, the sudden acknowledgement of the weight showing—likely scorched across your face as your arm drags down, shoulder going with it, just about saving it from the ground.

It’s only as you look up, do you find Frankie half over the counter, spotting the key rings and cart tokens rolling around the floor—the stand on its axis from his sudden movement.

So, is Rainy my name now?

You caught that?

I did 😏

I wasn’t thinking.

I have to ask.

Here we go.

Do you always wear the hat or is it a Frank.DIY thing? And is it Frank or Frankie or the newly learnt Francisco?

Whats wrong with my hat? And Frankie and Morales were taken.

Morales your surname? I feel I’ve hit a sore spot.

Yes. And you have but you can make it better.

How?

Meeting me for a very boring lunch this week.

You’re really twisting my arm. Which is mean. You saw the stress my shoulder had to endure today.

I tried to warn you. I’ll let you bring your Pinterest board and your saved Reels.

I fear you just want me for my organisational inspiration.

Can’t help you decide if I’m the man for your project if I don’t know what you’re after.

Fair, I guess I can meet you for a business lunch.

Would you be more into meeting me for lunch if it wasn’t a business lunch?

It depends on what kind of lunch we’re talking about.

I’m very badly trying to ask you out on a date.

Oh, that’s what you’re trying to do.

Unless I’ve read this wrong.

Nope, read it perfectly. I guess I have to confess to you that I really would love to go on a brunch date with you, Francisco.

Lunch date. Let’s not get too romantic. Don’t want you to fall head over heels and visit where I work twice in two days.

Has Harold told you how hilarious you are?

It’s nice—the place he’s chosen.

All washed in bright white, yellow splashes and pastel accents. Plants adorn as much of the walls and ceilings as humanly possible, with guitar-infused music softly playing as the door clicks into place behind you.

It's so nice, in fact, you almost want to live here. To spend an infinite amount of time brushing your thumb over the leaves to see which ones are real and which ones are very good fakes. So pretty that it’s the kind of place that if you weren’t looking for him at a table, you’d snap a photo of it all and send it to a friend.

But, as soon as your eyes land on him, he's the only photo you want to take.

White t-shirt, with a dark shirt thrown over the top, still very much all broad-shouldered and wide chest as he smooths his hand down as he stands.

The hat, one that you'd assumed would be a staple, is all but gone, curls at odd angles as though his fingers have been teasing them—tugging and pulling as the ends slightly frizz—as he moves around the table when you approach.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins, hesitancy thrumming before he must question himself, snaps himself back into place from dragging his eyes up and down you.

Then, he’s moving, gently—enough time to register he’s moving to hug you, and plenty of time to politely decline.

But you don’t.

Allowing his hand to slide over your waist, delicate, very much cautious and all but respectful, at the same time as his breath flutters over your cheek. You almost turn your chin, wishing to all of a sudden curl into it before his lips graze your skin, lashes fluttering before you feel him moving back.

And, fuck, the scent of his aftershave is still washing over you in thick waves. It does its best to slide up your nose and make a home there as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You almost turn, almost catch the last bit of his lips, eyes focused on his, holding, burning them in as you find yourself unable to tear away from it. Two people, swirling, completely lost in only the other—the rest of the world fading to a muted shade, nothing compared to the hue he exhumes in the centre of brightness and pops of colour.

A thing you turn over, unable to stop yourself from stealing stares as he pulls out your chair, before joining you by sitting opposite.

“Thought this was a safe bet, wasn’t sure what kind of lunch person you were.”

“More of a brunch person, honestly.”

He smirks, flicking his eyes up, even if his head is tilted down at the menu.

“It’s very nice—not been here before.”

A brow arched, he smiles—shyer, the beginning of the dimple appearing before he casts his eyes back down.

“What do you recommend, Francisco?”

You don’t miss his snort, the way he sticks his tongue in his cheek as he gives you that look—one that makes you want to keep flirting and testing him all at once. One that makes you clamp your jean-covered thighs together, but secretly hope he notices you doing so.

If he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead, using his index finger to point at various parts of the menu, recommendations falling, rolling—a shimmer in his eyes at certain parts, that makes it easy when someone comes over to ask for your order.

You suspect it’s a favourite, the one you’ve chosen. Something is written into the way he holds your gaze before he stumbles over his words, practically trips, to say his.

It’s only when you’re alone, do you rest your elbow on the table—the coldness of it rising up your skin, rooting you—as you lean your chin on your palm. “So, do I get my Pinterest boards out now or…?”

“Funny.”

You bite your tongue as you smile, staring, admiring. “So, outside of terrorising a man in his own shop, running an Instagram, what does Francisco DIY do?”

Shaking his head, he takes a sip of his water—a bead collecting, remaining on his lower lip for a ridiculously long time, before the tip of his tongue casts it away, and sweeps it from your view.

“My… my friend fights—like MMA. He stopped for a bit, but now he…”

You wait, let it form—let him decide what it is he wants to tell you and when, and how. Sliding your feet out under the table, stretching as you relax into the chair, finding his eyes fixed, concentrated.

“I go to some of his training.”

“Good at DIY and MMA training? Starting to wonder why you’re single, Butterscotch.”

He laughs, soft, rich. “Just… haven’t been looking to date.”

Nodding, you let out a heavy exhale. “I wasn’t either.”

His lips purse, twitch to the side, a smirk half forming somewhere in his cheeks as he leans over, elbow resting on the table, foot catching yours under the table.

Mirroring you entirely as the two of you just stare. And, normally, it would be weird. Odd. But, it doesn’t feel it. If anything, it makes you want to commit each crease from his smiles, each wisp of hair along his jawline that crawls up his cheeks—the patch that could be traced with your thumb, an almost heart shape left, ready to be stamped with a pair of lips.

Your eyes only pull from it when your drinks arrive—when the moment is broken by the real world—as you lean back, let your eyes move to your server, thanking them as you take your drink. And then, the two of you are alone.

“Might change my Instagram name.”

Brows lifting, he pauses his glass close to his lips. “Oh yeah, what to?”

“Rainier Grey—makes me sound elusive.”

Snorting, he shakes his head, sipping on his water before placing the glass down close to your hand. Fingers brushing against it, a thing which makes your eyes flick over your screen.

“I dare you.”

“You dare me?” you say. “How old are you?”

“A man too old for dares.”

You brush your index finger over the back of his fingers, lingering on it, noticing the way they flex as you do as if battling to take your hand in his.

Even if you’re determined to go halves, Frankie’s insistence beats you.

All ‘Don’t argue with me on this, alright?’ said in a tone deeper, more serious than you'd heard to date. And, it's hard not to let heat lick up your spine at the sound.

Even if he’s giving you kind brown eyes as you hold your hands up in defeat.

Smirking, you watch him pay, spotting the picture in his wallet of a boy with a missing-tooth smile almost as big as the man in front of you.

“Alright Morales, but next time it’s my treat.”

“Next time?”

Smirking, you bite your lower lip as you stand, grabbing your things. “Think you’ve earned it.”

Each step to the door feels heavy, a fluttering in your stomach—a grin that can’t be wiped, barely doused when you say goodbye to the people behind the counter.

It grows wider when he gets the door for you, the cooler, outside air creating a vortex of his aftershave all over again (that you hope finds a way to bury itself into your skin) when he opens it.

It’s odd, almost insane—the giddy way you feel as the two of you walk to your car. His fingers are so close to brushing yours, the distance to your little vehicle becoming shorter and shorter as you desperately wish for another few blocks.

Disappointment flares, trying to scratch out the happiness inside your stomach as you pause at the car, trying to smile, but finding it difficult.

Rubbing the back of his head, you watch him roll his lips. “I had a great time.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nod, “Me too.”

“Won't have to wait long, you've promised me brunch.”

“Think I said I’d pay. But, if you want brunch, I’m down to blow your mind.”

You realise too late, mouth hanging open, the words hitting—landing in his ear as you watch him process them.

It’s sluggish, almost lagging, the way his face lights up, the way his eyes widen and his smile grows into something close to what you had across the small table—not tinged in any way by the upcoming goodbye.

“Well, if that’s—”

“Shut up,” you say, cutting him off, hand ready to push his arm, but you slide it around his waist.

Face close to his, bodies almost flush.

You watch him swallow, how his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he flicks his gaze from eye to eye.

Licking his lips, he smiles. “Can I kiss you?”

The moment you nod, he’s leaning—lips brushing over yours, fingers tightening on his waist as you move with him, all delicate, smooth, downright velvety as your other hand finds his neck. Feels his pulse against your palm, the warmth of him against your skin, before your lips part, deepening it, letting him have more, as much as he wants—

Then, he moves you. His palm meets your car, guiding you back until your spine meets the side of your vehicle, and he leaves another mark of him—thumb and four fingers—in the grunge the city throws at your car.

The other is the one he leaves pressed against your lips, all invisible, sweet and aching. Leaning in, your fingers find purpose on his neck, skating around, teasing a low curl as you lick into his mouth delicately.

All teasing, caressing, the arm around your waist tightening as the two of you remain almost flush against the car.

And it’s dizzying, all unexpected—but then, so is he.

More so, when you part—nose against nose, eyes opening to find his doing the same.

“I should…”

Your fingers slide, wiping his bottom lip before resting it on his chin, nail stroking against the hair there. “Okay.”

“I’d like to,” he begins, slowly stepping back, allowing cooler air to flow between where your bodies were pressed together, “Not wait to see you again—and, help you. With your project.”

Rolling your lips, you smile. “I’d like that too—both of them.”

“Alright.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Let me know.”

Nodding, he steps back up on the curb, hand wiping across his mouth.

You actually changed your handle.

Told you, I don’t back down from a dare

Guess I owe you one.

Can I cash it in at any moment?

As long as it’s appropriate, yes.

There goes my idea of daring you to strip in the shop and make out with a paint tin.

Have to just dream about that one.

Oh, I will Francisco.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[libbyfandom]

Let’s take a look inside Modern!Reader’s Camera Roll! Featuring Mizu and BES Characters

Your and Mizu’s legs tangled together as you cuddle. A movie is playing on the tv in the background.

A blurry picture of Mizu and Taigen in the middle of their weekly smack down. You don’t even remember what caused this one. In the corner you see Akemi leaning in and making a peace sign.

A screenshot of a designer purse you sent to Mizu while swapping ideas for Akemi's birthday gift.

Ringo in the kitchen, proudly beaming as he holds up his newest batch of cookies. There’s flour on his chin and apron.

Video of you zooming in on Mizu sitting on a roof with no visible sign of how she got up there. “How the actual fuck did you do that?” Your monotone “done with my girlfriend’s shenanigans” voice is heard behind the phone. “I climbed.”

Mizu and her adoptive father at a baseball game, wearing matching jerseys, sunglasses, and serious expressions. It’s quite cute.

A mirror selfie from your bed, wearing Mizu’s oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

Nude you sent Mizu while she was at work.

Nude you sent Mizu while she was at the gym.

A video of your locked front door, someone furiously banging on the other side. “I KNOW HOW TO PICK LOCKS, YOU BRAT.”

Akemi helping you wrap Ringo’s birthday presents.

Mizu and Taigen drunkenly hugging each other at a bar, Mizu’s head tucked under Taigen’s chin. (Blackmail material)

Sunset orange sky.

Sunset orange sky.

Sunset orange sky with a slender hand in frame flipping the bird.

Mizu and the boys during a very intense round of Mario Kart. Everyone’s leaning toward the tv, gazes focused. Mizu’s squatting on her seat at the couch.

Your hand holding Mizu’s wrist wearing the pretty silver charm bracelet you got her. Charms: Waves. Katana. Two interlocking hearts. Her birth flower. Moon.

A saved video Taigen sent of everyone but Taigen trying to crawl under a gap in a fence. You are clearly struggling, and Taigen starts to half heartedly pretend to kick at your head. The video lurches sideways violently and cuts off, like someone shoved him.

Screenshot of notes app grocery list.

A video of Mizu laying on you, fast asleep as your hand is in her hair and your thumb gently massages the place behind her ear. The only noise you can hear in the video is the white noise of the mic and her soft breathing.

Group Selfie you took of everyone playing Monopoly, half an hour before Ringo wins in a landslide. The first signs of frustrations are starting to show in several players' faces.

Ringo, looking at the camera with the saddest puppy dog eyes as a hand from out of frame holds up a hand written sign that says “Capitalist” at chest level.

A selfie of you and Akemi out at lunch together. Akemi is halfway through sipping her drink and is making a funny face.

A video of Mizu with her long hair down, swinging it around in a circle as she headbangs to a heavy metal song you still can’t make out the lyrics too.

A video of your lap, thighs squeezed together and shaking as a slender arm from out of frame makes a slow rolling motion from where their hand is hidden under the blanket between your legs.

A video of who you think might be Taigen getting chased by who you think is a screeching Akemi from far away on campus. You keep trying to zoom in but can’t tell. Every student in frame of the video is frozen and twisted around to stare at the scene.

Mizu’s hands filled with all the seashells she collected at the beach.

A little crab on the beach.

The gang eating food at a food truck at 1 am.

Your hand holding a bag of sour gummy candy Mizu really liked so you can remember to buy more later.

A close up of Mizu’s opened mouth, tongue hanging out, showing her new ball piercing, tongue coated and dripping with your cum. She was really impatient for it to heal so she can use it.

Picture of a squirrel on campus!

Mizu sitting on the floor holding Akemi’s new calico kitten up to her face and nuzzling it.

Saved mirror selfie Mizu sent from the gym, squatting in front of the mirror with her hair up while wearing her self cut cropped shirt and biker shorts.

A confused Taigen reaching up to grab the cheap, paper "Drama Queen" crown you just put on his head.

Akemi cutely posing with her hands under her chin with her newly dyed burgundy hair.

An old photo album showing little Mizu with her adopted dad. He double checked Mizu wasn't around when he showed you. The four slightly grainy photos in the shot are slightly different versions of one moment of Mizu being carried on a younger Eiji's hip. She looks unsure at something behind the camera, her little face pinched with that signature little pout she does. Younger Eiji has a slight smile on his face. ("I never liked having my picture taken myself. But I knew she'd need these to remember the versions of who she used to be, and that there are people that want to remember them too.")

Mizu. Sitting at the kitchen table. Just how she is in this moment.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia(Here!), Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: There may be some comma splicing here and there. Sometimes doing bullet works is more difficult than full fics smh.

Kalim is a dreamer. His mind is full of visions of the past, present, and the future. Why else do we make memories, if not to reflect on them and imagine what is to come?

This is his outlook on life. He doesn't give energy to worries or threats. He physically can't, or else he'd likely fall into an endless abyss of self-doubt. Kalim has no space in his heart for such things.

His happy-go-lucky attitude combined with this free spirit results in a loose lip. He is constantly ranting and raving about his future by your side. Which is lovely, but his over-zealous behavior can cause others not to take him seriously.

Exhibit A: Kalim proposing. Now, is this Kalim *actually* planning to propose, or is it just him beginning his weekly rant about how cute he thinks your kids will look?

Kalim's heart is an open book. He doesn't care about other people's opinions. He loves you, so he's going to say it. Every. Single. Day.

Can you blame his siblings for not believing him? For his parents not taking him seriously? He comes home one random day and spouting a tangent to begin preparing for an engagement party which just sounds like common Kailm behavior.

Not even Jamil believes him. Not after countless years of hearing Kalim's lovesick Jargen. He just groans in exhaustion and signals for everyone to ignore it.

Sweet sunshine doesn't realize that he is being overlooked until he whips out a ring to ask his mother's opinion on it, and suddenly the room is drop dead silent.

Then uproar. All his siblings are crowding around to share his excitement and it's like the room's aura made a complete change. Kalim thrives in the attention and all the well wishes.

He hopes they'll be just as happy once you say yes! If not more!

.....cue Jamil's groan. Again. This time in frustration.

They should have know. Of course he would do all this before asking.

Bless you for your patience. With his parents' blessing, Kalim once again gets wrapped up in his excitement and runs off to visit you.

Moving on. This...overzealous...behavior Kalim exhibits does not only apply to his family and friends.

My dear, he has proposed many times to you in casual conversation. Dreaming of a big wedding with a feast to serve hundreds. He displays tooth-rotting infatuation to you on a daily basis.

Kalim sends flowers and fruit baskets to your home weekly. He cherishes you like you've been dating for months, not years. The man is stuck in the puppy love stage but for him it isn't a 'stage'. It's simply how he will always be. The spark has not dimmed. He still hums as he knocks on your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and shoves his shoes off with super speed to tackle you in a hug.

Get it?

This is why you are not taken aback by the rapid knocking on your door. Kalim stopping by on impulse just to see you is not rare. Although, he normally would send a plethora of texts while on his way.

Even so. You don't hesitate to dry your hands from cleaning dishes, and speed walk to the door. You can hear his shoes tap against the outdoor floor in anticipation, and swing the door open with a smile.

On the other side, is Kalim down on one knee with a hand aimed to knock again. When he sees you, the largest grin spreads on his face. You don't even get to question why he is on the ground-

"Marry Me!"

Used to his excitable greetings, you laugh heartily and throw the dishrag in your hand over your shoulder. "Mhm. Mhm. I missed you too," comes out between chuckles, as you turn around so he can let himself in. You miss the way his face falls and his lips purse, before he grabs your wrist and yanks. You twirl and stumble forward, catching yourself on the door frame, hunched over with your wrist still in his grasp.

Kalim is resolute, and you can't help but gawk as he pulls out a ring wrapped in a gold, silk handkerchief from his pocket

"Marry Me," he says again, this time more firm. His ruby hues lock with yours, and he looks both at and through you at the same time, "I love you. I want you. Only you,"

He says no more. There is a lifetime for flourishes, but right now Kalim only wants you to know what is in his heart.

When you don't back away, he slips the ring over your finger. His heart hammers in his chest in a mix of jubilation and happiness. Not a moment later you are in his arms, tackled to the ground in the doorway of your home. Kisses being peppered up your arms from your ring finger to your lips.

{A bright pink diamond sits amidst a sunburst cut, and is surrounded by other pure diamonds on a silver band. The biggest expression of wealth and devotion. This ring costs enough to make you feint, but is chosen with purpose. Many say Kalim is like the sun. Yet in his eyes, you are his sun. There is no comparison. Only fact. Pink diamonds symbolize love, creativity, and romance. You are his sun, with all his love residing at the core. Also, it’s just really shiny}

If mystery was embodied in a man, it would be Jamil. You never know what is going on in Jamil's mind. Sometimes he slips. Rarely. If you can fluster him enough or find him when he hasn't slept in days. Otherwise Jamil is a brick wall when it comes to his true emotions.

Especially when it comes to you. He has always been exceedingly careful. He is still careful. He takes no chances, but he loves your game. The way you can pick him apart, and how he always has to be one step ahead. It’s challenging. It’s exciting. It’s love.

You see how he holds back. That he reigns himself in. In the few years you have spent at his side, you've learned to read him in ways that other people cannot. There are times when you get to see him become overcome with passion. When he is dancing, or when he is broom racing with his dormmates. When he is cooking a new dish or haggling prices on shopping trips.

When he confessed his feelings. It was the greatest surprise since being transported to a new universe. You had no idea how he felt. Not an inkling. Had he not said anything….well, you may have gone your entire time at NRC believing your affections were unrequited. He had no tells. Permitted none for himself.

On one hand, his ability to dilute his emotions has created many opportunities for surprises. Getting to see those little moments of passion; being one. Each action of his has a meaning that only you understand. Every glance as you pass in the halls, the brush of his fingers against yours as you sit together to study, being allowed to braid his hair even if it’s just to “keep you quiet”, all his little quips and murmurs being whispered into your ear instead of under his breath.

On the other hand, there are still barriers. Some closed tightly and no matter how hard you search for a key - there isn’t one. It was broken a long time ago and only Jamil himself can remanufacture it. Sometimes his resilience makes it hard to tell what he is planning…which can be lonely.

In your final year at NRC, many things are uncertain. This place is all you have ever known in Twisted Wonderland. With it being taken away…you do not have a floor to stand on. On the other hand, Jamil looks fine, if not *eager*, to graduate. Neither of you addressed what would become of your relationship after graduating. Jamil had thought of it, no doubt. He thinks of everything. You had as well, but were afraid to ask. When it came to the future, Jamil was always so resolute. He knew his path in life and planned to continue carving it.

The question hanging in the air being if you’d be chiseling alongside him, or in a different direction. Unknown to you, Jamil had this problem solved long before you began to wonder - and he was one step ahead. As always.

A ring. Unassuming and in plain sight, sat on the rim of the windowsill above the kitchen sink. How did it get there? You do not know, but it caught your attention as you cleaned up from breakfast. The morning sun glistened against the band, and you carefully picked it up to twirl between your fingers.

An engagement ring, but whose?

“Well, are you going to put it on or just stare at it?”

You jump and nearly drop the ring in the kitchen sink. In the reflection of the window you see Jamil, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and his classic unamused deadpan. At your silence, he pushes off and comes to take the ring

“Last time I take advice from - ,” he grumbles and you miss the rest of it, too distracted with how he plucks the ring from your grasp, and holds your hand more gently than you ever thought he could. He stares down at it, content, and surprised you yet again with his tender touch“hmm…it fits. Good”

It slips on your finger smoothly, and he lifts your hand to wave in your face. This time, an unspoken communication passes between you. A promise that you are going to have a lifetime to pick apart those little mannerisms of his - and that he wants you to. He loves this game of secrets just as much as you do.

“Be my spouse. Go where I go, and we’ll be fine. Together….I can’t handle if you’re not near. I’ll lose my hair, do you want that? Want me to go bald?…come with me. You are the one happiness that I refuse to sacrifice,”

{ Rose gold with a floral cut and black gemstone accents. Jamil’s ring is small, unassuming, yet the closer you look the lore detail you will see carved into the gold band. You will note the little gems, upholding the core. Some pure as the ring’s heart and others a sharp contrast - drawing attention to the center. Jamil’s ring is somehow both modest and bold at the same time. A reflection of the giver}

[hannieehaee]

idol!mingyu and idol!you who've been secretly dating for a little over a year now, attempting to keep it a under wraps despite being currently scheduled to mc inkigayo together.

a/n: im not even gonna lie i never watch anything other than the actual performances so idrk how mc'ing works very well but i hope i did it justice somehow T-T

part 1, part 2

wc: 379

masterlist

you and mingyu had now been dating for a while, being successful at mostly keeping it a secret from both fans and the media alike.

despite a few questionable moments between the two of you (mingyu literally cannot keep his eyes off of you in public spaces ..), you've always been able to chalk it up to being close friends.

if fans were clueless, the industry was twice as unknowing, still somehow deciding it was a good idea to book the both of you to mc during the following season of inkigayo shows.

what had surprised you even more was your shared company agreeing to such a public appearance between the two of you, despite knowing rumours had began to spread about your relationship.

but being the charismatic visuals of your respective groups, the request for your appearance together was just a given to anyone who asked.

the flow between you was natural. with your matching outfits and matching personalities, you'd created a dynamic that people loved watching, sometimes even more than the main show itself.

you'd do tiktok challenges with any groups/performers coming in for comeback shows, always making sure to give a little extra fan service between one another to keep things interesting.

that tiny subsection of fans who just knew there was something going on between the two of you would go crazy over every weekly appearance, analyzing every look and tone of voice whenever you interacted.

it'd be hard for mingyu to remain cordial on screen, wanting to go into his natural state of boyfriend™️ and act in the touchy and affectionate way he would behind the scenes, but holding back for the sake of your careers.

your weekly selfies would get more and more friendly as people got used to seeing you two in a public setting.

little inside jokes between the two of you that you'd work into the script, only ever laughing at them once you were off camera.

you jokingly wacking mingyu on his arm any time he'd get a little too flirty with you on camera, making you flustered while recording, knowing you can't fluster him back because you're being recorded live.

fans begging inkigayo to bring you guys back as hosts, loving the friendly yet chaotic dynamic you two had, not knowing it was even worse off camera.