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#I tease but these really are nice things to see
bloobharry · 3 days
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How’s your head? H.S
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She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduced her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Or,
Harry is Y/N’s best friend, and he just wants the best for her.
Content warning: mature content.
Word count: 3.8K
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When Y/N told Harry she wanted to hang out with him Friday afternoon, she didn’t quite think it would end up like this.
The original plan was to essentially do nothing all night. After a long, tiring week at work, nothing satisfied Y/N more than lazing around on her couch and snacking on all the chocolate sitting in her pantry she had been fantasising about having while at her desk. It was always nice to have someone do these things with you, though, where both parties could lie in silence, munch on snacks and glue their eyes to the television to forget everything that happened in the past workdays.
Y/N quickly realised Harry was the perfect person for this. He didn’t have much going on for him either so there was no reason why he would turn down a night of gorging Y/N’s pantry and flopping over her hunched body on the sofa so they could watch whatever show she was recently obsessing over.
And that was how the night started.
Harry came over at about 7, with a pizza for takeaway and a large soda, and claimed the furthest right corner of the couch, snuggled up with Y/N’s cat Lola. While Lola took her time sniffing Harry’s fingers and tentatively licking his knuckles, Y/N warmed up some popcorn and ruffled Harry’s hair as she walked past him to her spot on the other end of the sofa. “Heeeeeey,” he began, a furrow in his brows, “you can’t just do that. I put a lot of work into making it look this good.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “if it looks like that after all the work I’m afraid you’re not doing enough, Harry.” He didn’t say anything, only scoffed and shoved her legs slightly from where she had swung them on his lap, “you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Let off some steam or something.”
“Right and do you want to volunteer as my punching bag?” She retorted. She wasn’t really trying to be mean, a teasing grin on her lips when he feigned offence once more, “that’s not what I meant. There are other ways to release tension, you know,” he said.
“Harry, if you want me to drop-kick you, just say i—“
“What I want is for you to go out and get a good dicking so you can stop being such a menace to me.”
“I’m not being a menace, this is just how I am. I thought you’d know that by now.” Y/N’s eyes widen, looking at him like she can’t believe he hadn’t realised her quip-y and teasing comments have been entirely satire. “Menace or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been on edge lately and could go for an orgasm not brought to you by your vibrator.”
“Harry!”
”What? I’m just saying,” he said through a smirk. Y/N’s eyes narrow at his dishevelled sight, his hair just touching his collarbones and his black sweater swallowing him whole. “My orgasms are perfectly fine, thank you. And my vibrator does a very good job at helping me ‘let off steam’.”
He sighs, almost mockingly. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Why would I tell you?”
”Because I’m your friend. I promise I’m just trying to help,” he says sincerely. The dim lighting of the living room made his eyes sparkle and Y/N avoided eye contact by fiddling with her fingers.
God, there was just something about the fucker that made a person want to spill every secret before his jade gaze. “I dunno. Maybe five, six months?”
“Jesus Christ Y/N, what the fuck? Weren’t you seeing Daniel like 3 weeks ago?” His voice goes up a few octaves, looking at her all bewildered. “It’s Danny,” she corrected him, “and I stopped texting him a while back. He was a bore in real life and quite frankly, a bore in bed.” Danny was one of Y/N’s coworkers' brothers who she had tried setting her up with, and Y/N did have some fun with him at first. It was always nice having someone to flirt with back and forth and get compliments from every now and then but he just never scratched that itch for Y/N. She ended up ghosting him 2 dates in and she knows that's a dick move, but really a second more of listening to him go on and on about his mum and how much his new PC game cost would make Y/N want to gauge out her own eyeballs with a dinner fork.
“Did he ever get you off?” Harry asked. Y/N was incredibly appalled, not appreciating his prying hands all over her sex life. Or lack thereof. “No and that’s none of your business anyway, jeez.”
“There you go again, snapping at me. You know if you’ll ask me nicely I’ll stop.” He sat up against the arm rest, fingers grazing her bare leg from when he pulled it back on his lap. Y/N knew she could ask him to stop asking her all these questions and he would, but was it really a conversation with her if she wasn’t being at least a little bit hard to read?
Besides, maybe it would do her some good talking about it and whatever advice he had might actually help her out. Harry seemed to be more than well-equipped when it came to charming the heck out of someone and working his way into their pants. “Sorry,” she sighed, rubbing her eye, “no, he didn’t get me off. We never actually had sex, I just gave him a blowie once and he tried to go down on me.”
Harry smiled softly knowing he got her to crack and squeezed her calf, “tried?” He knew he was treading on dangerous waters here, wedging his fingers between Y/N’s brain and asking her to recall her time with Danny.
“Yes, tried. It was fucking awful.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with the strings on her hoodie, “and he definitely came in your mouth?” Y/N’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly pulled her legs away from him, “Harry!” Her voice was high pitched and defensive, and while her mind told her that maybe confiding all this in Harry isn’t the smartest thing, her heart wanted to see where an odd conversation like this could lead.
“I’m just asking!”
She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Well fuck, Y/N, sorry to say it but you were seeing an absolute douche.” Harry makes this diagnosis like Y/N didn’t already know, his fingers reaching for her legs again, tugging them onto his thighs with a strength that made her tummy flip. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. It was fun but I didn’t want anything more with him.”
“Good. But you still need a good fuck. One where you actually get to come and don’t come back home all high and dry.”
Y/N gasps, trying to get off him again but Harry holds her down, laughing at her bright red embarrassed face, “you’re such a dick I hate you.”
His dimples dug deep into the soft of his cheeks, and he pulled her legs so she was sitting much closer to him. Her ass touched the edge of his thighs and she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making her skin even hotter. Y/N remained frowning, shoving his chest when he wouldn’t stop giggling, “stop laughing, Harry!” For obvious reasons that doesn’t work and the little genuine crink in her eyebrows had him almost cooing and smiling wide at the same time. When she didn’t let up the frown and tried to move back to her spot, Harry only grabbed her hips and pulled her back, close enough that her ass was now on top of his thighs, “okay, okay I’m sorry. You’ve got a really funny angry face.”
Y/N was near seething at this point, gearing up for an attack, “I’ll show you an angry face,” she tried lunging for his hair again but very quickly realised she failed to take into consideration her position when he instantly caught her wrists in between his long fingers, holding them tight but not enough to hurt her, “okay, John Cena let’s take a breather.”
God, was he able to make her skin absolutely crawl at times. He was still holding her wrists when he brought them down, watching her blazingly. She didn’t realise how far she had shuffled into his lap and how close his face was to hers until now. Until she could smell the strawberry mints he was sucking on on his breath.
She made a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest, but his hold only tightened around her, suddenly dragging her even closer to him over the soft fabric of his sweats. Y/N held her breath. He was too close to her, his nose daring to touch hers. She’d never been in such a vulnerable position with him and she might possibly just faint if he didn’t stop staring at her mouth and then her eyes, flicking his gaze between the two like he couldn’t decide where to settle.
She moved her head back, trying to create some space between the pair, “what are you doing Harry.” The sound she makes is an odd one— one that she doesn’t make often and it’s desperate and needy, akin to a weepy whine. His fingers finally loosened enough for her to break free and she quickly moved her face away from his where it seems like it was magnetically pulling her closer and closer.
Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Y/N found herself frozen in her spot, still right on his lap. “What’s going on here, hmm?” He said, glancing down.
Y/N followed his gaze, confused at first and it took her a moment to realise what he was insinuating. His fingers grazed her hips. “What’s got you all squirmy on my lap?”
He was still staring right into her eyes, making her go crazy with the stolen glances at her lips with every passing second. Meanwhile Y/N’s chest heaved and she unintentionally shuffles again, “fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s voice was deep and groan-y, vibrating through her body when his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m not squirmy, Harry shut up.” She was lying right to his face and her poor attempt at covering her actions made him laugh again. The sound was teasing, nothing like the light-hearted giggles spilling from his lips when he found her angry face amusing.
“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.” His fingers fell to her upper thighs, which he gripped harshly. Only then when she couldn’t move did Y/N realise she really was practically rubbing herself against him, milking even the slightest pressure against her heat from his warm, pliant lap. Her face pinkened again, embarrassment coursing through her veins and making her want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. She couldn’t believe what she had just been caught doing.
Y/N expected him to fully push her off his lap, disgusted by her basically humping his leg, but he didn’t.
Instead, he dug his fingers into her skin and slowly helped her move back and forth, pushing her down just slightly to give her the friction she was searching for. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in another little whine.
“Will you let me, then?” His eyes searched hers, gaze sincere, though Y/N didn’t know what he was implying, only half listening to him. She was clearly preoccupied with the delicious pressure pressing right up against her clothed clit.
“What?”
Harry laughed, a large, ringed hand slipping over her ass to squeeze lightly. “I said, will you let me make you feel good? Help you relax? Have you gone dumb already, baby?” Y/N couldn’t really do much other than nod frantically, afraid he might pull away if she didn’t say yes. The pet name melts her even further, paired with the way he was holding her like he was going to swallow her whole made her insides slosh.
She preens under his gaze, now holding the front of his sweater tightly between her fingers. “Yes,” Y/N breathed, “yes please.”
Harry wondered for a second if she was agreeing to being cockdumb or agreeing to him touching her but nonetheless he took it as his queue to push her off his lap and position her the way he wanted.
“I—what, I thought you we—“ Y/N protests, neediness evident in her voice and her hands which chased after his warmth, like she was afraid he was going to leave her be in this desperate state. Harry only pressed on her shoulder until she laid back on her back, hands coming to part her legs so he could fit between them, “shh.” A wet kiss was pressed to her cheek, like comforting a rabid animal, which Y/N was feeling exactly like as she stared at Harry’s frame cowering hers.
His curls hung past his ears and tickled her face when he slotted his hips between her legs so she could continue grinding down on him, “who knew you were such a needy little thing?” Y/N sighed in response. Another suckling kiss was pressed to her jaw, “do you need me to make you feel good, baby? Hmm? Need me to make it better?”
The way he was talking to her made her feral.
She had trouble believing this was the same Harry who irritated her to no end and pushed all her buttons to rile her up. Except this time he was pushing other kinds of buttons, moving his body around hers so perfectly Y/N wondered if this was like second nature to him.
“Yes. Please don’t tease me.” She commanded him and Harry chuckled at her desperation, lips sponging these warm, slow, gooey kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. When she went to sift her fingers through his curly hair, he pulled back to look at her. “You’re so bossy,” he accuses, pulling her thighs further up his hips, “it’s okay though. I’ll fuck the attitude right of you.” He grinded down against her, one strong roll of his bulge against her heat. “Are we going to have sex, Harry?”
“No.” He grinned.
“Why?” Y/N’s eyes crinkled in pain like he just told her her cat died and her lip jutted out in a pout which Harry quickly tucked away with his thumb. “Because,” he started, using that same hand to wrap around her throat, “we need to talk about that before we do anything. Don’t want to lose my best friend, do I?”
His rejection almost made Y/N cry and she would have had Harry not tightened his hand around her jugular. The cold press of his rings sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “Why would you say anything then?” She asked, craning her neck to allow him more room to cover with his palm.
“I said I won’t have sex with you. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make you feel good.”
With that, he took the hand that made a home around her throat and patted her cheek, hard enough that the feeling went straight down to her tummy but soft enough that it didn’t hurt her like someone might think it would. He crawled further down her body, shoving her hoodie up with his hands and exposing her stomach to the cold air of the room. Y/N thinks he was trying to keep up some boundaries, bunching the shirt just below her tits like protecting some kind of modesty and pressing ticklish kisses across her skin and down her belly button. Her body tingled with anticipation, breath bated and eyes glazed as she watched him.
She felt him nuzzle into her tummy and inhale loudly, “you smell so fucking good.” Y/N giggled, taking pride in her extensive shower routine and incessant rubbing of various lotions into her skin, “thank you.”
When his mouth reached the waistband of her tiny shorts he murmured a small, “can I take these off?” To which Y/N hummed in agreement. She couldn’t agree with anything more. If Harry walked up and out of this room right now, Y/N was certain she would die.
Once they’re off, Y/N realised she was completely at his mercy. Her underwear is the only thing protecting her modesty, and with how wet she’s feeling, she doubts there’s anything left to the imagination down there, “would you look at that. You’ve soaked right through.” His fingers toyed with the edge of her wet gusset.
Another embarrassingly desperate sound left her throat and she pushed her hips in the air in search of some friction. Harry delivered a harsh slap to her thigh, “don’t move.”
His stern voice did unimaginable things for her but she complied and tried to stay as still as she could, which seemed like a task for the impossible with the teasing touches Harry delivered to her skin.
She never thought she’d be into something like this.
Something which reduces her to such a filthy, whiney mess.
That too from her best friend.
Harry doesn’t do anything for a while, just admiring how her pussy looked soaked through her panties, playing around with the lace lining of the fabric. He grabbed the gusset and pulled it tight against her so her folds swallow the cotton, “fuck. A little manhandling and this is what happens?” He more so makes a statement rather than asking her, punctuating his words by leaning down to lick a wide, sloppy strip across the cloth. It makes Y/N squeal and attempt to shut her thighs but Harry makes sure to hold her down, biceps bulging.
He pulled back to drop his fingers firmly against her clit, just keeping them there pressed tightly, feeling her heartbeat against the tips. “I thought I told you not to move.”
“Yes, I’m sorry please, please don’t stop.”
He went back to nosing at her covered clit, not making any attempt to wrap his lips around it. At this point Y/N was itching in anticipation, every ounce of her working not to rut her hips in his face and ride his tongue like she wanted to. When he finally touches her again, it's where the wetness pooled, soft suckling kisses over the fabric which made Y/N’s heart and pussy flutter.
She was incredibly frustrated, wanting nothing more than to rip her underwear off and shove his face into her but she held back, not sure if Harry would appreciate that after he made it clear time and time again how he preferred her to remain immobile while he played with her. Instead she waited until he was through with kissing every inch of her and when he finally peeled off her panties, she could practically come just from the prospect of having his mouth on her.
He doesn’t give her a second to think though, because his mouth is unrelenting. Teasing the tip of her button with his tongue before circling his lips around it and suckling in sweet, soft pulses. The sensation has her panting and gasping, squeezing his head between her thighs while one of his arms swung across her hips to keep her down and the other wiggled between the two to push her lips apart in a V shape. With her clit now exposed to the cool air, Harry zeroed in on the nerve and worked magic with his tongue, flicking it up, down, left, right and circling the button with such fevor Y/N could burst.
What electrified the experience was the sounds in the room, which were just sinful.
Her pussy squelched with each suckle Harry gave, making Y/N moan and pull Harry’s curls which in turn had him groaning lowly against her. It was an endless cycle of pornographic music.
When he pulls away from her clit, the pulsing it does is almost amusing, like it was personally begging for Harry’s attention. Instead he kissed down the length of her slit and took his time playing around with her folds, slicking her hole and letting his spit drip down to her ass.
It was so perfect and messy.
Before she knew it, Y/N’s thighs were shaking and Harry’s tongue was back to abuse her poor button. A couple more flicks and a harsh kiss pushed Y/N over the edge, her orgasm washing over her and nearly blinding her. It’s euphoric and the most intense she’s ever felt, no vibrator of hers or cock she’s ever had compared to what she was feeling and even then Harry didn’t let up on her pussy. He continued his assault, now both of his arms locking around her hips to tone down her thrashing. Only when she pushed his forehead away did he finally depart with a final lick across her slit and smiled at her fucked-out state.
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips, sitting up between her legs which she clinked shut. A second passes.
“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes were shut, an arm thrown across her forehead. “I think so.”
Harry giggled, leaning over her to remove her arm, “how’s it feel?”
“S’good. It was really nice. Thanks.” She was slightly dazed, too far gone to really understand what was going on. Her limbs felt like jell-o and she let Harry kiss her cheek again before lending her a hand to help her sit up. “I’m glad. Come on now. We need to clean you up.”
She doesn't know how she stood up from that godforsaken couch and how she made it to the bathroom, Lola returning from her retreat to her bedroom to wind around her ankles. Harry bent down to pet between her ears, “hello babydoll. Did you miss me?” He cooed.
She looked down at the pair and Harry easily sensed her wary gaze. A dashing smile was sent her way. “Do you need me to get you some underwear? Or are you afraid I’ll stumble across your array of sex toys?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. He was still the Harry she knew before he gave her the best head she ever received.
“You’re such a dick.”
“A dick that gave you the best orgasm of your life.” She couldn’t even argue with him on that. Instead, she flipped him off and disappeared into her room. Once she was all changed and wearing a fresh pair of undies and shorts, she walked out to see Harry passed out on the couch with Lola snuggled into his throat. It was then when her head finally returned to the ground and she realised the gravity of the situation.
The looming prospect of a long, painful chat in the morning hung over Y/N like a dark cloud, filling her with a gnawing sense of dread she suddenly couldn’t seem to shake.
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
Hiiiii i hope you like this one, first time posting in a long time so feeling a little nervous omg … leave feedback if you have any!!! Mwuahh
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hairmetal666 · 14 hours
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They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.
Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.
The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.
To Metallica.
And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.
"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.
Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."
"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.
"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"
He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.
"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.
"Well, Dio's pretty okay."
This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.
---
Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.
"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.
Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"
He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.
"You want chips?" He asks.
"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.
"What?"
"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."
And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.
"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"
Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--
"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."
"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."
He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.
---
"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.
"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.
"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.
"Wha--huh?" He blinks.
"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."
"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.
Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.
"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.
"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.
Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.
---
Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.
He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.
Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.
A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.
---
It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.
There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."
He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"
Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"
Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."
"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"
"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."
"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."
Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."
"Of course. It's just--this is just you."
He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."
"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.
He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.
The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"
"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."
He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."
"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.
He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."
"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.
He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.
It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.
"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.
"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"
Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."
"Yeah?"
"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."
"Well, stick around for a while."
Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."
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rebelfell · 3 days
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Just thinking about ADHD things with Eddie…
Like he throws a party at his and you guys are just chit chatting when you tell him how nice it looks.
And he kind of laughs it off, says something about how he only really cleans properly when people are coming over because he just doesn’t feel motivated otherwise. Then you tell him you’re exactly the same way—to the point that you have a friend who calls you like once a month and tells you they’re gonna “swing by in about an hour” just so that you will start panic-cleaning.
And something in your brain always somehow forgets that’s what they’re doing, because all you can focus on is The Deadline and The Task and it goes like gangbusters so you don’t question it.
Eddie thinks that’s so genius! He asks you if it really works, and laments because he wishes he had someone like that because he really wants to get better about keeping his place neater.
So you tell him you can try and be his buddy, and in like a month or so you call him and tell him you are in the area and you’re gonna pop by for a bit.
And the first few times you do this, you actually do come by, you know, just to see if it’s actually helping. And it seems to be, so you keep it up. Until eventually you figure he’s gotten in the swing of it now and just the call will do.
Because surely he doesn’t really want you coming over randomly to get him to clean. Right?
Except one day you call him and say you’ll be over in like 30 minutes. And 45 minutes later you get a call from him like, um…hey? what are you doing answering the phone and not coming over here?? I thought you were dead????
“Ed, the call is just supposed to make you clean, you don’t have to hang out with me every time—”
“HAVE TO? Sweetheart, what’s even the point of cleaning if I don’t get to hang out with you?”
Your heart skips at his use of the word “get” and you can feel your cheeks radiating with the blood pumping under your skin. It makes you bury your face in your hand and you smile like an idiot.
“Okay, okay! I’ll be over in ten,” you tell him.
“Alright, good,” he says, and you can practically see his teeth flashing with the smirk on his lips. “I’m setting the kitchen timer now.”
“Oh, yeah?” you tease. “And what if I’m late?”
He sighs all heavy, theatrical as always.
“I guess i’ll just have to do something you’ll be sorry to miss out on, won’t I?”
(not at all based on me power cleaning as soon as my friend said she’d be over in an hour so we could go to the pool)
ty for reading, love you, mean it ♥️
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dearest-nell · 1 day
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homebrew.
j. potter x reader, 3.6k
summary: james wants to do something nice for the reader. best friends to lovers, mentions of reader menstruating, james being a big softie
a/n: this is the first time i've written in a long while, so hi there! nice to be back
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It was safe to say that today was somewhat of a write off, at least in your own humble opinion. The familiar blunt pains of your period shook you from an already groggy, restless slumber, cyclically pressing somewhere deep inside you until you were drawn into a terrible state of nausea. You could feel the deep bruised marks hanging low beneath your eyes, hard earned and unwelcome, marring your already paler than usual complexion. You had avoided the mirror entirely, knowing something sallow would be the only reflection waiting. 
It was battle enough to make your way down the stairs from your dorm, your head hanging low as you ghosted your way towards an already raucous common room. Heavy eyes landed on the two familiar figures seated in the corner, and even in your dreary state, you couldn’t keep the small smile that tugged on the corners of your lips. James sat comfortably, splayed across the couch in his usual unapologetic stature, arm hanging heavy across the back, legs parted wide, head tipped back in laughter at something Sirius had surely uttered before your arrival. Sirius seemed much the same in his own right, though you took less pains to notice. James always seemed to snatch your attention, after all. It was his effect. 
You felt no need to greet the boys as you settled slowly beside James, slouching into the crook of his arm with entirely too little consideration, dropping your head to his shoulder with a distracted sigh. It was normal, after all, this kind of thing. James had always been affectionate by nature, and you craved the intimacy he had to offer more than you would ever admit. 
James moved in an automatic response, his arm swiping to encase you in his hold as if that was how it was always meant to be. He couldn’t see the little furrow on your brow, not properly, but he could feel the tension that held each and every muscle in you tighter than a bowstring. 
“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.” He chuckled, squeezing at your side affectionately only to receive a mumbled reply in turn. His brow rose towards Sirius, a silent conversation passing between them over your head. 
Sirius cocked his head. “Didn’t sleep well then, I take it.” 
You shook your head, closing your eyes to block out the light. Migraines were easily built when you were already in such a delicate state, and the widely opened windows of the tower had played the villain on you this morning. Ordinarily, the sunlight would have been worth a warm welcome, but this morning you had only wished for rain. 
James tutted beside you, his free hand inching to brush back the hair that had crowded your face, the back of it pressing gently against your forehead. James didn’t need to excel in divination to know that something was off with you, you certainly weren’t trying to hide it, but it now had become his own little mystery to solve — a distraction from the rest of his day. There was no temperature, though, so he hoped he could at least rule out a trip to Pompfrey.  “You feelin’ alright there?” 
You breathed out a soft yeah, though neither of the boys were too convinced by the answer.  
“You’re really gonna make us jump through hoops for it, aren’t ya.” Sirius teased, earning a narrowed, piercing glare from your tired eyes. 
“You don’t want to know, Pads.” 
Sirius shrugged, unphased by the response, and leaned back in his arm chair with his usual sort of smugness. 
James tried again a little softer, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. “Try me, then. You wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, love?” 
You were sure James couldn’t have known the effect that little nickname had on you, and you felt the familiar warm tug of your affection towards him slowly water down your reluctance to share. 
“It’s not a secret, Jamie. It’s just that time, y’know? I usually make a stock of potions and I just forgot, so I’m feelin’ a bit…” you trailed off, angling your face up slightly so he could see your queasy expression. “It’s nothing to write home about.” 
“Well in that case,” Sirius emphasised, pushing broad palms into the plush  arms of his chair to hoist himself up, “I’m going to go track down our other little monthly invalid. I’d rather face Moons than this one.” 
Sirius didn’t need to look back to see the vulgar motion you tossed his way, though James couldn’t help the chuckle that rippled from him as he watched you burrow in deeper after. 
“Can I do anything, then?” James queried, rubbing circles into your side with the warmth of his palm. “You look like you really ought to go back to bed.” 
“Can’t.” You grumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. “I promised Dorcus I’d help her with her essay.” 
Besides, you knew this was par for the course. How many people in the world faced the same battle as you and soldiered on — you didn’t feel like it was enough of an excuse when a third of Gryffindor tower was likely menstruating right along with you. Communal living, what a gem… 
“I’m sure she’d understand.” James offered, furrowing his own brow in thought. He didn’t  like there being a problem he couldn’t fix, and more so, he didn’t like you having a problem that he couldn’t fix. You were his little love, after all, his very best friend, it was his job to take care of you whether you wanted it or not. 
How the two of you weren’t in a relationship was anyone’s guess, and a frustration that plagued all of your friends and acquaintances to no end. You never sat like this with the others, never used such darling terms of endearment for the rest of the gang. Yours and James dynamic was something entirely of its own; too sweet and tender to be just friends, and yet never classified as anything more. You wouldn’t argue it, though, not when it allowed you this kind of closeness with him. If this was all you would ever get, then you would take it gladly. 
“She would, but I’m going anyways.” There was a decided tone to your voice that James knew would be a losing battle to argue with, so with a gentle sort of sigh, he focused his attention on a new objective. 
“So what’s the potion, then? Can I go buy you some?” 
You wrinkled your nose at the question, well aware that James was a dog with a bone at the best of times. It was sweet of him to offer, but the last thing you wanted was to feel helpless. You’d survived this long, after all, and the idea of you putting James out of his way was one you wished to avoid.  “It’s okay, Jamie. I’ll make up a batch tonight or tomorrow, or somethin’. You don’t need to do anything.” 
James would’ve knocked your martyr complex right out of you if he could, but that wasn’t his way. Besides, your stubbornness made up a part of you, and he loved all of you too much to ever want to change that, even if it was a pain in the neck. 
“You know I’m useless on my own. Maybe I’m bored and want something to do, hm? You don’t know.” 
He was being cheeky, and he had the shit eating grin to match it. That sort of energy always seemed to ripple off of him, settling a warmth into your bones that eased you somewhat. 
You managed a small, amused chuckle. “Then I’m sure the boys’ll have plenty to keep you busy today. I just wanted a hug before I was on my way.” 
“Oh yeah?” James’ voice was delighted as he circled his arms tighter around you, pressing you against the heat of his body with expert hands, fingertips massaging into your back and waist with reverent touches. “James hugs makes it all better, don't it.” 
With a scoff at his ego, you allowed yourself a moment to soak it all in – this closeness and intimacy that you wished you could bottle. James was the perfect boyfriend, after all, even if he didn’t belong to anyone. There was never a day where his friends did not feel the weight of his love, of his affection and regard. It felt almost greedy to want more from the man who gave so freely. 
But you did. You always wanted more of him. 
“Yeah they do, you smug bastard.” The teasing lilt was not lost upon him, and it only made James squeeze you tighter. 
“Y’know, I figure maybe I just won’t let you go. Then you’d have to rest right here where I can make sure.” 
You thought about biting him – you really did – just because it was cheeky and you knew it would make him laugh. Your restraint, however, could only be considered admirable, and instead you moved to pinch at his side with a sneaky manoeuvre, one that would unfortunately cut this perfect moment short. 
He yelped in surprise, his grip loosening enough for you to begrudgingly slip out of. It ached a little to see the way he was still reaching for you, trying to pull you back down to his side. Your traitorous, bleeding heart couldn’t help but hope that maybe he craved your touch as much as you craved his. But once again, James had nothing but adoring smiles for you, feeling all too bested in his own game. 
“Careful, love – if they see you moving that quick, I might have competition on the Quidditch team.” 
You shrugged, smiling a little coyly. “It won’t be my fault if they put you out of business, James.” 
He huffed out a laugh, clutching at his chest with enough melodramatics to level the castle. “You’re breakin’ my heart.” 
You tilted your head softly. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll see you later, okay?” 
His soft okay was enough for you to be on your way, though if you had heard his little, woefully mumbled I miss you already, then maybe you’d have turned back around. 
-------✿-------
Dorcus had been supportive enough during your studies, much to no one's surprise, but even she could tell that this round of pains seemed far more severe than usual. You spent the better part of the session hunched over your library desk, legs curled up beneath you in some feeble attempt to ease the pain. The heated pillow behind you helped somewhat, but by the mid afternoon, it was starting to feel like a losing battle. 
Once the bulk of the work was over, you resigned to give in, sending yourself back to the common room with a huff, energy far too spent for you to even consider making another round of potions. Pomfrey tried her best to keep a steady stock at all times, but between unsure first years whose potion making skills were not refined enough for such delicate casting and older students who were lazy enough not to bother, her supplies had once again been depleted, much to your chagrin. 
It left you with nothing to do but burrow deep down into the warmth of your duvet, hooking the blanket over your head as you drifted into another groggy, all too short sleep. Even with noise muffling and light repellant spells, your body could not seem to comply, and within the hour you were back on your feet again, lazily pulling together something warm and cosy to wear down to the common room once more. 
It was only when you opened your door that you noticed the small package at your feet, wrapped up prettily in a crimson ribbon that felt far too festive for something so mysterious. 
There was no note attached, no sign of where the gift had come from, but with a steady hand you unravelled the packaging, opening your gift to discover twelve identical potion bottles stacked neatly in rows, a small card tucked carefully in between that read your name in a scrawled writing. By sight you could identify the contents – the familiar purple tinge was one you had learned to identify from Pomfrey herself – though you were sure she wouldn’t have had the time to brew a new batch from when you last saw her only an hour beforehand. 
Chewing your lip, you pondered the possibilities, hooking the gift under your arm as you slowly descended the stairs to find the culprit. Of course, you were certain there was only one person who might have been responsible. James had been all too eager to help, after all, and far too free on his Saturday to be left to his own devices. The handwriting was unfamiliar, sure, but it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d attempted to throw someone off his trail that way; he was a prankster at heart. 
Even now you found him perched happily by the fire, wrapped up in his favourite armchair, eyes drifting lazily across the pages of a book in hand.Coming up from behind, you leaned yourself over the back of the chair, elbows holding you up as you watched him examine the box now resting in his lap.
 “So you’ve been busy today.”
Without missing a beat, James rated his head back onto the plush back behind him, smiling up at you with an innocence that seemed all for show. “Me? Well I’ve been trying to read, yes, though I wouldn’t call that busy.” 
“Oh? So you’ve got no idea what these are, then?” Your tone was nothing if not incredulous, but what was the harm in humouring him in something like this. 
James shrugged, passing a quick glance over the box in question before turning his eyes back to you. “Potions? Are they more of the ones you need?” 
Your lips curved as he feigned his innocence, though the smugness that seemed to tug at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He’d never been a good liar, after all. James was earnest to the bone. 
“You know, it’s funny, I couldn’t really say. There’s no labels, you see, and no note, so who is to say what they are.” You paused, gasping softly for a sort of dramatic effect, cupping your cheek with one hand as your eyes widened comically. “Oh no! They could be a nasty prank, now that I think about it. Probably best not to drink them…” 
You watched it live, that flash of regret that passed before his eyes as he realised his mistake. He tried his best to cover it, clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, eyes blinking up at you nervously. 
“Or it’s just… I mean it doesn’t look all that harmful, does it? Who’d wanna give you a rotten potion anyways.” 
You levelled your gaze at him. “Literally anyone that you share a room with, Jamie. I don’t need my hair falling out or my words coming out in Pig Latin, so I think I’ll pass.” 
James reached up for you on instinct, his fingers curling around the meat of your forearm with a tender sort of touch, his gaze somewhat imploring now. 
“Or you could just drink it, for… fun.” 
“Fun?” You quirked a brow, smile widening at this little game that you were sure to win. “Why would I do that?” 
James huffed. “Yeah, fun. I think they look fine, so maybe you should just—” 
“James.” 
He’d been backed into a corner and he knew it, though his little sigh of defeat did nothing for him to remove his touch from your arm. He spoke with a gentle whine, frustrated that the game was now at an end. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh.” 
“I don’t know why you don’t want to. It’s really sweet of you to find me some, though I don’t know how you managed twelve; the school seems tapped.” 
You shrugged your arm gently, enough to shake him from his grip so that your fingers could settle between his own, locking into place with such ease and familiarity. James’ gaze followed suit, watching the way his hand seemed to dwarf your own. 
“It is. Pomfrey’s out and the girls didn’t have any to spare, so I just made ‘em instead.” 
Your brows furrowed in surprise. “You made them? How?” 
James surely would not have had access to the recipe, and you knew that it wasn’t a quick potion to make. He must have spent hours on it, and the thought made your heart squeeze with affection inside your chest. 
Perhaps your affections were written right across your face, because you watched as his own expression softened to something equally adoring, his smile brightening at your astonishment. 
“I got Mary to show me. Or really she just talked at me for a bit, but I took heaps of notes, and she checked at the end to make sure I’d done it right. Figured killing you with the wrong mix would’ve done nothing to cheer you up.” 
You laughed at that, shaking your head in disbelief. Your breath felt caught in your throat, something large and unavoidable stuck and ready to spill out. “You didn’t have to.” 
James shrugged. “I wanted to. I just didn’t want to make a fuss is all. Didn’t want you feeling like you’d owe me anything.” 
You felt your lip catch between your teeth, already feeling that sense of obligation starting to pool in your gut. You had never been good at accepting gifts, after all, nor compliments – you always wanted to pay things back. James, however, was as stubborn as you were, and the resolve in his gaze was enough to show you that he was unflinching on this notion. 
“Well I… I want to say thanks somehow. This was really kind, Jamie. Too kind.” 
He shook his head, squeezing your hand in his. “You don’t even need to say the thanks part. Just take the potion and I’ll be happy. I hate seeing you hurt, love, I really do.” 
It was an impulse that had you moving, your body bending at the waist until you were lowered down just enough, James’ face angling to meet yours. You stayed like that for a moment, a blip in time spent with the two of you just watching one another, breaths evening out until you moved in sync, a pattern that only you two could follow. You nudged your face slightly, lips brushing tenderly against the scruff of an unshaved cheek, pressing there far longer than ordinarily you might have ever dared. 
You heard the shudder in his breath, felt the way his hand gripped yours as you pulled back, gaze meeting his own in an unavoidable stare. 
“Thank you, James. I really mean it.” 
You watched as he swallowed, that same sort of lump caught in his own throat as he tried to find the words, tried to make himself speak in a way that you would understand. How could he make you see that he would do anything for you, anything at all, whether you asked or not. 
He settled on the one thing he knew he needed, using his grip on your hand to urge you out from behind the couch – behind the wall between you two – guiding you until you settled comfortably in his lap, curled up and safe, just as you ought to be. You didn’t question the movement, just tilting your head curiously at the intense way he seemed to be watching you, tugging your entwined hands into your lap, cocooning his within your own, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 
James reached for your face with his other hand, deft fingers hooking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, circling at the softness of your cheek and jaw with newfound tenderness. 
“If you want to thank me next time, then you can just let me look after you. It’s all I want to do.” 
His kiss was quick as he pressed his lips to your own, somehow so casual for something so foreign between you both. You’d have almost believed you’d made the whole thing up if you couldn’t feel the electricity it left behind, feel the way such a small thing had awakened so much inside of you. 
“Okay.” 
You could see it in his stare, the way he was reading you, trying to understand if you wanted this as badly as he did. Your soft sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth of his palm was all the reassurance he needed, nodding to himself as he processed the lines he had just crossed. 
“Okay.” He breathed, angling your face to kiss your brow, his touch reverent as he lingered far longer this time, unable to bring himself to pull away until the very last second, that teasing, boyish grin now spread across his features. “Take your potion, then, and sit with me a little while. I wanna make sure it works.” 
It was hard to tell what was changed between you two, but all you knew was that whatever had occurred here in this armchair would linger in the back of your mind for days to come. There was a new intimacy here, one far deeper than had ever been explored between the two of you before, and even without words, you knew James felt it too. 
Maybe it didn’t need words. Maybe it was enough for you to drink the potion and settle against him, your nose pressed against the pulse beating steadily at the crook of his neck, his hand pressing soft circles into the dip of your back. Maybe that was the only step that needed taking, for now. Something felt all too assured in that moment that this was just the beginning, and that was all the both of you needed to know.
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(Genshin Impact) Giving Headpats to Furina, Lynette, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lumine, Jean, Eula, Noelle, Ayaka, Sara, Yae, Shenhe, and Xianyun
No one requested this, as for the reason this post exists, the only thing I can give you is this image:
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Furina freezes up the moment she feels S/O's hand pick up her hat, only to ruffle her hair.
She squawks for just a moment, quickly blushing and pouting as Furina yanks her hat down.
(Furina) "D-Don't just start patting me out of nowhere!"
Crossing her arms, she looks away, trying to not look bothered about the whole affair.
She finds it highly embarrassing. At least in public.
The moment they're alone and she feels their hand, she closes her eyes and completely relaxes, humming in content.
There's still a blush on her, but it's far more subdued unless S/O starts teasing her about it.
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Lynette does not like just anyone rubbing her head due to her cat-like features.
In public, the top of her head in general is completely off limits.
But if it's just her and S/O at home, then she allows it.
In fact, when S/O's hand starts petting her head, she leans into them completely as her eyes close, just like an actual cat.
Her ears twitch a little, but her tail swishes left and right happily.
If they stop too early, Lynette's eyes slowly open and looks at them expectantly.
(Lynette) "...Why did you stop?"
Feeling the warm of their hand allowed Lynette to rest comfortably, and to space out to her heart's content.
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Arlecchino did the same thing to comfort many of the children at the Hearth.
Yet she didn't know what to do when S/O did the same, feeling her hair slightly ruffled.
If her S/O was taller (in which case "Dude, you look huge"), she really wouldn't comment on the height difference, but if they were shorter, THEN she'd be surprised they would even attempt it.
Arlecchino doesn't care if it's in private or public, but she would care if they did so in front of her kids.
Because then they'd see that she has someone that can make her comfortable too, which in turn makes them happy.
Seeing their father cared for puts them at ease, making Arlecchino thankful in her own way.
But as for the action itself: she would just talk to them in her usual tone, though with a bit of a "threat" lying underneath.
(Arlecchino) "Did you wish for me to pat your head too, S/O? I might be rougher with you than the others."
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Chiori raises an eyerbrow.
(Chiori) "S/O, what are you doing?"
Once they explain themselves, Chiori can't help roll her eyes.
(Chiori) "Did you expect me to get all flustered from that? Psh, it'll take a little more than messing up my hair to do that. Speaking of which, can you fix it for me? I'm a little busy here."
She finds it cute, yeah, but it's not that big of a deal.
Plus, she finds it weird.
Who just goes around, patting their girlfriends' heads unprompted?
Oh well, it's not like this was particularly harmful, so Chiori lets it slide.
But if they do that in front of customers or in public, S/O is dead.
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Lumine's body stiffens when S/O's hand ruffles her hair lovingly, before she quickly giggles.
(Lumine) "Hey, stand still!"
She quickly does the same back, though her retaliation is far more playful and destructive.
S/O's hair is an absolute mess now, Lumine giving a cheeky grin back.
(Lumine) "There, now you look better than before!"
It does not take long for the situation to quickly devolve into a tickle fight with both of them on the bed laughing.
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Jean takes a moment to register what S/O is doing, but after a few seconds she smiles.
Jean lets her shoulders drop, feeling more at ease by the second.
So this is how Barbara and Klee felt when she did the same.
(Jean) "Your hand feels quite nice, S/O..."
She doesn't realize her own flushed cheeks as her vision becomes slightly hazed with her affection.
If anything, she feels a little sad everytime they pull back.
It was such a relaxing sensation, and honestly made her feel a little sleepy.
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Eula's head feels a bit colder to the touch, but her body is rapidly heating up, especially her face.
(Eula) "What do you think you're doing, S/O?"
Hearing their answer, Eula pauses for a moment before responding.
(Eula) "Next time, you should ask for permission instead of rubbing my hair like I'm some sort of child...I don't recall asking you to stop either."
In classic Eula fashion, she doesn't tell them directly that she loves the feeling of their hands.
But she'd be damned if she was going to admit something so embarrassing.
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Noelle feels a mixture of pride and embarrassment everytime S/O pats her on the head.
On one hand it felt quite nice, and the gesture was very sweet!
But it made her feel a little childish.
She never voiced her latter feelings aloud, because it still made her flustered all the same.
(Noelle) "A-Ah...Um, thank you, S/O...!"
It made her want to do her best everytime just so she could receive such affection, and made sure to do it back to them!
But with her strength, she accidentally completely dishevels their hair.
Before promptly fixing it in nearly an instant with her skills as a dutiful maid!
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Ayaka exhales deeply, any words she had completely fading away in bliss.
These were the kinds of moments Ayaka longed for, to simply share affection with a lover of her own.
It made her feel quite normal as opposed to the prim and proper noblewoman she was forced to be.
(Ayaka) "If I may be selfish for a moment, might I ask for you to continue...?"
She'd be a little embarrassed asking for more, but her shame vanishes the moment she feels their hand on her head again.
Ayaka is too shy to initiate the headpatting on her own, most of the time having her hand almost reach her S/O's head before pulling away last second.
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Sara flinches and leans away from S/O on instinct.
(Sara) "What are you-...M-My apologies, I was just not expecting you to..."
Her hand fidgets for a moment before Sara lets out a sigh.
(Sara) "If you wanted to touch my hair, you can just ask."
Now that she was actually ready for S/O, she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers brushing against her hair.
It was relaxing as she let down her guard and enjoyed the physical affection.
Needless to say, Sara absolutely did not want S/O to do this in public.
Seeing Inazuma's general get pat on the head so lovingly would obliterate her image.
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Yae smirks as she leans her head closer to them, not saying a word at first.
Her ears twitch for just a moment as she opens her mouth to speak.
(Yae) "Well, does my hair feel nice, S/O?"
And before S/O knows it, her tail wrapped around their waist before bringing them closer and her the back of her head is resting on their lap.
Yae's hand waves nonchalantly, and her tone growing increasingly ever more teasing.
(Yae) "I expect to be pampered properly, S/O. You can't leave a job half-finished after all!"
Now, Yae expects S/O to tend to her hair, in public or private, she doesn't really care.
As long as there were some good reactions from S/O both was fine, though in public tended to provide the funniest result.
...Oh, and their hands did feel nice. But she'd figure it'd be more entertaining to let S/O figure that one out themselves.
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Shenhe knows this feeling well.
Cloud Retainer did the same thing whenever she meant to comfort her.
And of course, the feeling is much of the same when S/O does it to her.
WIth zero shame or hesitation, she closes her eyes and the corners of her lips grow into some semblance of a smile.
(Shenhe) "Your hands are soft, S/O...They feel good."
Instead of leaning into them, she grabs their entire arm and has their hand stay stuck in place.
But Shenhe is careful enough to not hurt them during the process.
She opens her eyes and calmly asks them:
(Shenhe) "Can you keep your hand in place for a little longer?"
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Xianyun had provided much of the same comfort to all her disciples before.
But never has anyone attempted to pat her head.
So when she feels S/O's hands do the same motion, she is stunned for a few moments.
Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses, she puts on the best poker face she can.
(Xianyun) "W-Why did you feel the need to rub One's head, One is not feeling upset."
...The blush on her cheeks gave her feelings completely away, if the stutter didn't already do that.
Xianyun is far too proud to admit that headpat made her heart skip, and she would refuse to ever do so.
A mortal patting an Adeptus' head? Absolutely ridiculous!
...She wanted S/O to do that again.
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diorcities · 19 hours
Note
What habits the dreamies got from their gfs (like adapting her rutine style to theirs)
you ask, i deliver. i don't think any of them would read if you're a bookworm D':
thanks to sofi for the inspo ily :(
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jaemin: starts baking. i think after seeing you happy baking cakes for him every chance you get he'd slowly start making cookies and muffins for his sweet girl; he'd suggest spending a day making sweets with you, especially if you smell of vanilla afterward.
mark: starts copying your speech and mannerisms. he'd start using your expressions and quirks. if you make a gesture he would immediately copy it by inertia until you point it out. he thinks you're so cool, poor guy loves everything you do so he just can't stop mimicking you.
haechan: starts sleeping with a teddy bear. gets jealous really quickly when you fall asleep and it happens to be in the middle of the two of you. the first nights he'd toss it aside so he could be hugged instead, but then when you're gone he brings it with him to bed because it smells like you.
jeno: starts liking plants. if you have a fond to take care of plants, little by little, his apartment would be filled with small flowers that he'd take care of because it remind him of you. i think he'd try to recreate your cozy apartment, and he'd probably plant your favorite flowers.
renjun: starts collecting trinkets. vinyl records, seashells, shiny little things. wherever he goes, he'd take a coin or a nice rock or a keychain because you have a habit of collecting tiny trinkets whenever you travel to have a piece of it with you, so when he's on tour, he makes sure to always bring you something with him.
chenle: starts to fiddle with members' hands when he's nervous. he's used to biting his nails as a stim until you start holding his hands and fidgeting with them to make him stop. when you're not around, he starts to grab his friends' hoping they'd do the same thing.
jisung: follow along with your jokes. they're mostly playful teasing. you have this silly habit of sharing something similar but really distorted to make it sound more awesome when he's telling a story.you both know they're not true so you begin to overdo what really happened in each other's anecdote until you're both laughing.
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dambaepuff · 2 days
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hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance
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REGRETS (m)
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship
Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting
Word count: 5k
Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it
A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)
Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.
Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.
‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’
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Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.
A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.
“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.
“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”
Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.
He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?
He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”
As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.
Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.
You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.
Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’
As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”
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It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.
Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.
Yang Sunhee
Sent a message
“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.
Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?
“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.
“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.
“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.
He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.
Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.
“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.
“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.
“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”
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Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.
“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.
“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.
“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.
“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”
“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.
Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.
One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?
He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.
Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.
He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.
“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.
“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.
Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.
He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.
“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.
“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.
“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.
Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.
“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.
As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”
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kosagum · 17 hours
Text
i'll stop time for you — gojo satoru · fluff · 2.8k words
summary: with only a couple of months left before graduation, gojo wishes he could stop time, if only to be with you for just a little while longer.
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“you know in an alternate universe, i would’ve walked out,” you scoff.
GOJO smiles at this and turns toward you. “but then you would have never gotten to know how cool i can be. and, i’d never get to know you. i’m happy you didn’t.”
it’s the middle of the night and sleep should be the only thing on your minds, but you both find yourselves discussing when the two of you first met.
as a student journalist, you interviewed gojo, a renowned student-athlete, your junior year for your college newspaper. now you both are well into your senior year, beginning to prepare for what comes next.
gojo’s apartment is a break from all the stressful preparation, a rendezvous point for when both of your schedules are packed. tonight you’re lying under the covers, facing each other. your bodies are intertwined, comfortably pressing against each other. the lights are off, but you can still make out his eyes, which are fighting sleep.
it didn’t help that the heat was cranked up high to oppose the snow falling just outside gojo’s window. the blanket you're under is cozy and soft. you’re freshly showered. gojo’s pajamas are fluffy and warm, coming directly out of the drier. you can still smell his floral-scented fabric softener.
the perfect conditions for falling asleep.
you take a moment to think about his words, hiding your smile with the blanket and looking at his nose to quell the butterflies arising within you.
gojo’s hand searches for yours under the blanket. once found, he pulls himself closer to you. now you’re nose to nose. his eyes, which were laced with sleep, are awakening. you can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he seems to be enjoying himself.
“you were so difficult, you know? i was just trying to have a good interview, but you didn’t even cut me some slack.”
gojo squeezes your hand and chuckles, “well i mean could you blame me? you weren’t giving me the reactions i wanted to see.”
“so you try to take over the interview?” you tease. “i was the interviewer.”
“i would never!” gojo insists, feigning shock, “i wanted to know more about you. you made an impression on me. and you’re definitely stretching the truth.”
“i’m not,” you laugh. “whenever i would ask you a question, you would answer me but then ask the same damn question back. don’t think i forgot how you would try to reword it, so i wouldn’t catch on either. i still don’t know how you thought that would work. you must really like the sound of your own voice.”
“it’s not that…while i do have a nice voice,” gojo begins, smiling after you lightly hit his arm and roll your eyes. “i just wanted to talk to you longer. it didn’t help that i didn’t know if we’d see each other again,” he pouts.
you pause at this, looking down at the blanket covering you two. your eyes make their way back to his, but you don’t say anything.
after the interview, you did cross paths again. more frequently than before. whenever you and gojo saw each other, he always made it a point to ask whether or not you finished the article. he’d try to justify himself by saying he wanted to see your hard work and his handsome face. you never failed to scoff at him. but that only seemed to spur him on further.
“why you staring at me?” he snorts. “falling in love?”
“i could ask the same of you,” you retort, pushing a piece of hair from his eyes.
once the article was published, you personally emailed him the link. to your surprise, he actually read it. he responded more quickly than you expected and praised you, saying he enjoyed your writing and appreciated that you wrote about him as a person, not just a student-athlete.
he then, not so smoothly, added his number to the end of the email followed by a winky face. despite being embarrassed for him, you still saved it.
gojo pauses when you fix his hair, flustered. he grins, taking your hand and placing small kisses all over it.
“well, i’m doing it because i think you’re beautiful. and i really like seeing you smile, even in the dark. so yeah, maybe i am.”
“don’t change the subject,” you blush.
“says the one who didn’t continue the conversation.”
“i was thinking!” you roll your eyes and glare at him. “i was so close to walking out and using whatever i already had from the beginning of the interview. it didn’t help that i couldn’t tell if you were trying to trip me up.”
gojo’s smile falters for a moment. “wait, did you really think i was trying to mess you up?”
you nod, looking at the pillow underneath you. sleep is starting to wash over you.
you shift around to find a comfortable position, still facing gojo and holding onto his hand. while settling on a position, gojo draws you close to his chest. he kisses your forehead before resting his head atop yours.
“i didn’t mean to make you feel bad about the interview. i was just trying to get to know the pretty girl in front of me.”
you never thought you would ever actually text him, but one day you went for it. you had just finished up in the campus newsroom and texted gojo to see if he was still on campus. he responded a lot quicker than you anticipated. before you knew it, he was standing outside, gasping for air.
“did you run here?” you questioned, fighting a smile.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grinned. “come on, let’s go. we’ve both been on campus for too long.”
gojo picking you up from the newsroom at the end of the day slowly became routine. you would take turns showing each other different parts of the city, of campus. slowly learning more about each other, and becoming closer.
“i know satoru, it’s fine. i wasn’t mad, just annoyed,” you kiss his chest, trying to assure him. “but you always annoy me, so what’s new.”
gojo lowers himself so you’re face-to-face again. he’s now fully awake. “don’t fall asleep on me now,” he sulks, poking your cheek.
you swat his hand away. “i’m awake, i’m awake. no need to be childish.”
a small gasp leaves gojo’s lips and he clutches his heart, earning a laugh from you. you sneak up to kiss his nose and try to pull away quickly, but gojo holds you in place and kisses you all over your face, grinning.
you pretend to grimace, but can’t hide the wide grin on your face.
“everything you’ve done is obviously impressive, but what i really wanted to know was who you were as a person. that’s why i wanted to do a feature piece on you. well, also because the sports editor wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“wait so the only reason why you interviewed me is because the sports editor wanted you to? and here i was thinking we had something special,” he laughs.
“it’s not the only reason, idiot. yeah, being a division one swimmer is cool and all. and you won the ncaa championship or something,” you mumble. “learning about you as a person was way more interesting, in my opinion. who would have known that satoru gojo is such a science nerd?”
“that’s not even true—”
“not true? i must have forgotten that someone told me you would sometimes sneak out of swimming practice to go to the physics club?” you giggle. “he said he was your friend, i think his name was geto?”
“i swear to god— of course that idiot said something,” he mutters.
you perk up after hearing this. sighing, gojo admits, “once this swimming stuff is over, i plan on focusing more of my time on physics. swimming is cool and all, but it just doesn’t excite me anymore. at first it was really fun, when geto did it with me. but then he quit to do something else, and it just became boring.”
“you just won a major championship and you find it boring?”
“i always win them, pretty,” he teases. you blush at the pet name and avert your eyes, groaning when gojo nudges your cheek. a defeated smile splays across your face. “but after a while, it gets stale,” he admits.
you and gojo lay there staring at each other. he did start winning more after geto left swimming. he and geto often battled it out for first place during collegiate meets. but once geto left, it became glaringly obvious how ahead gojo was from everyone else. he won the meet that qualified him for the ncaa championship and set a new personal record. he then went on to win the championship.
it seems that geto was the only one who could keep him on his toes.
you give his hand a squeeze. “so there’s more to you than swimming, that can never be a bad thing. not only do you have an ncaa championship under your belt, but i don’t doubt you’ll also win some physics titles too.
gojo’s about to protest when you interject, “if you never won all there was in swimming, then the feature piece would have never happened. i wish you didn’t have to experience so much boredom, but at least we met each other.”
gojo remembers how he would sometimes drop by the newsroom when he skipped swim practice instead of hanging around the physics club. you always pretended to be so annoyed, but could never hide the excitement in your smile. it was to the point where other people in the newsroom would remember him. some even talked to him too, much to your dismay.
one particular day, it was just you in the newsroom when he decided to come. he sat at the desk next to yours and asked you about the article you were writing before just watching you write in silence.
it was peaceful. after a while, gojo put his head on the desk and shifted his focus from your writing to you.
you were early into your relationship, but he already felt his heart ache at the limited amount of time you had with each other. he so desperately wanted to stop time. wishing to be with you as much as possible, feeling very thankful for these moments when he did get them.
he moved his chair closer to yours and put his head on your shoulder. you turned to look at him and tried to hide a smile. you lifted his head off your shoulder. gojo frowned at this, about to protest, but you put your head on his shoulder and then placed his head atop yours. you felt your face heating up and braced yourself for gojo’s teasing, but he simply shifted to kiss your head before settling back down.
without warning, you put your hand on top of his and weaved your fingers together. gojo’s eyes widened at this and his heart began to race. he pulled your entwined hands closer to him, and kissed yours.
stunned by your words, a blush forms across gojo’s face. “yeah, you’re right. i guess it all really was worth it,” he beams, placing a peck on your nose.
“if it helps, i know you’ll be amazing with whatever you choose to do with physics,” you assure. “to think, my boyfriend, a physics geek.”
“no way you just demoted me from a nerd to a geek.”
“it happens to the best of us,” you laugh. “and you’re my geek.”
you look up at him with affection in your eyes. gojo feels the urge to attack you with kisses, but restrains himself.
“enough about that stupid competition, i think you being offered a job at one of the best news publications is way cooler.”
“i guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” you yawn. you snuggle deeper into gojo’s chest, feeling your consciousness slip.
he gives your hand another squeeze. “i said don’t fall asleep yet.”
“i can’t help it,” you yawn, pressing your forehead against his. “but you know, i am really happy i didn’t leave in the middle of the interview.”
your eyes start to droop, but you force them to remain open, “i found you cute when i first met you, so i felt like i had to work that much harder for the interview to go well. just for you to try to flip the script on me. i didn’t tell you at the time, but i kinda found it kinda funny.”
gojo smirks, “why would it make it harder? am i that irresistible?”
you roll your eyes. “you wish. but no, it’s because… it’s unethical to have a relationship with a source. we technically shouldn’t have happened, but…”
“you couldn’t resist me.”
you force down a laugh and shoot him a dirty look, “shut up! let’s just say, you maybe grew on me and i came to like you. a lot, even. especially when i got to see more of who you were. even though it was a risk, i really wanted to take it.”
you pause for a moment, “so i did. i guess you could say, i’m very happy with that choice too.” you grumble, avoiding his gaze.
gojo beams. you still chose to date him despite everything.
he cups your face with both hands, giving you as many kisses as possible. part of you wants to fight him off, but another is just as happy as he is. when he’s done, you give him a deeper kiss on his lips, feeling your stress and worries fading away.
you’ve both been running around trying to make any final decisions and plans for graduation while tending to your usual responsibilities, so you barely got to see each other. the thought of graduating always makes gojo tense. he rarely brought it up to you, but you knew. you felt the same way, but tried to keep it together in front of gojo.
one night, you showed up at gojo’s apartment unannounced. you threw yourself into his chest and just held him, and he immediately held you back. though no words were spoken, he understood. you stayed like that for a while until he moved you both to the couch.
it was also the first time gojo finally explained his worries about graduation and possibly losing you. though you reassured him countless times, he still vowed to stop time, just for you. you giggled at his words, but promised to do the same for him.
he looks at you slowly falling asleep. he can tell you’re doing your best to stay awake, but don’t have much fight left in you. giving you a peck on the lips, gojo whispers, “thank god you chose to write about me. i fall more and more in love with you by the second.”
delirious with sleep, you mumble something about him back. barely loud enough for gojo to hear.
“i’m going to take that as, ‘thank you, my prince, you’re so sweet’.”
you flick his forehead before nuzzling against his cheek, muttering, “i said, i might be in love with you too.” you giggle, finally succumbing to sleep.
gojo watches you for a bit, listening to your breathing. he starts to feel sleepy himself. he gently squeezes your hand once more. he feels you squeeze his back. he chuckles, wondering if you’re actually still awake or if it’s now become a reflex. he’s happy either way.
he looks at you with such yearning in his eyes, wishing he met you sooner in his life. maybe in another universe, you would be childhood friends. swimming might not have been so boring if you were there cheering him on, and he doesn’t doubt that geto would have loved you there too. he could have been the one to offer himself as the subject for a feature piece. he laughs to himself, thinking about your annoyance at that.
he would have loved to be with you from the start. he still worries about the couple of months you have left together before graduation, but he tries to push that away, thankful that he even met you at all.
he does his best to stay optimistic, knowing you’ll still be together after graduating. gojo will always be there for you, even if life has you in different parts of the world.
gojo smiles at this thought, feeling a blush spread across his face. squeezing your hand one final time, he snuggles even closer to you and slowly drifts off to sleep.
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lanabitch2 · 1 day
Text
Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss scenarios:How you guys met
Charlie:(Time Line: Pilot
So you were good friends with Alastor or he owned your soul so he just spawned you to help out with the hotel and Charlie was nothing but sweet to you which was why you guys became close friends
Vaggie:(After Charlie found her)
So you are Charlie's sibling and Charlie wanted your help to get Vaggie better to which you did help ,and you and Vaggie bonded during that time which lead to her being a protective friend
Alastor:(During the show,before the Pilot)
So before the pilot he knew because once he became a overlord and came to the overlord meetings he met you another overlord and he didn't talk to you at first so you talked to him first which you and him become with besties especially with Rosie!(wait I should make a group of Alastor, Rosie,and Overlord!Reader!)And now to the show so during the overlord meetings you see him after 7 years while you and Rosie were chatting and she basically pushed you to talk to him again to which you do and you guys became close friends again!
Angel Dust:(Pilot)
You were a sinner who wanted to be redeemed so you helped Charlie with her hotel and in scene where they were in the car,Angel Dust was flirting with you the whole time even if Vaggie was screaming(?) At him,he didn't care
Husk:(Before He lost his soul to Alastor,and the pilot)
You knew him once again because of overlord meetings!You are a overlord again,You and him became friends fast and you would sometimes go to his casino and play cards with just for fun and then Alastor showed up and then Husk lost his soul. During the pilot Alastor has you help to which you do and while at the bar you meet Husk again, his is grumpy towards you but he secretly is glad that he can see you again!
Nifty(THIS IS PLATONIC!):(Pilot)
It was when Alastor just got her out of the fireplace or oven(I've heard both)and she started cleaning the place and at one point she just looked at you and then giggled and then started cleaning again, You knew she was something different
Sir Pentious:(Show)
It was after"It starts with sorry" you 2 didn't really pay attention to each other at first but he then started to try and talk to you which he was super nervous and would say the wrong thing but you were nice to him(cause duh he is sir pentious)and became his friend
Cherri bomb:(Show)
When she just blew up the wall in the hotel and Charlie gave her money to the bar(?),so when you guys were there you started talking to her and she was kinda rude bur in teasing way and after a while she was acting like your best friend
Valentino:(anytime)
So you needed a job so you went to his studio and you didn't even half to say"Can I have a job here." He just goes"Do YoU nEeD a JoB?"*And you just nod so you gave your soul go him and stuff <3
Vox:Anytime
You are just a powerful overlord who works with the Vees and Vox grew a liking to you and was kinda weird but you didn't really care about it and deal with it but you guys are friends(you replaced Alastor?)
Velvette(MA QUEEN!):Anytime
So you were one of her models and she didn't really care for you at first until she saw how much talent you had and she was awestruck so she then started showing favoritism towards you
Adam:(Earth garden of eden)
So after he lost both of his wives to Lucifer,God made him a new wife(or husband but it might start just becoming a female if so then sorry!),you were loyal to him and loved him no matter what(MY HEART OF STONNNNNNNE!)
Lute:(Anytime,and so this reader is female it just makes since of what I'm about to for the reader)
So your are a exterminator and she used not care for you until Adam started talking about you to her and she then started to pay close attention to you,which you noticed after a while and asked her"What?"and she was pissed until she chilled out started talking to you and you guys were chill
Emily(My bestie loves her):Anytime
You were a Seraphim to(I REALLY HOPE THAT NOT ALL SERAPHIMS ARE REALATED!)And she always talked to you when she just wanted to but you guys never really were friends she talked to you when she didn't think Sera would understand so at one point you were like"Wanna be friends?"and she would squeal and be like"YES!YES!"
Saint Peter(I love him and "OH!~"):Anytime
You were a Seraphim and he would sometimes see you when he would see Sera and Emily but you guys never really talked so at one point when you were just alone,he started talking to you which made you guys close
(End of hazbin hotel but if you want me to add more people than you say who)
Helluva boss
Blitzø(Mwah):(Before the whole Blitz and stolas fucking thing for the book)
So you needed a job so you saw IMP and thought *Murder >:)* so you when to work there and he had you meet him in his office and he was like "who do you want dead?"until you telled him you wanted a job and hired
Millie(THICK-um sorry and her and Moxxie are not married atleast not in these preferences but you can request them together!):season 1 episode 5 Harvest Moon Festival
So she knew you from her childhood back in the warth ring and once she saw you again at The Harvest Moon Festival she was overjoyed and so were you and you guys started catching up you ended up just going back with her and started working at IMP
Moxxie(Possum!):Harvest Moon Festival
So you also knew Millie and she introduced you two to each other and he was kinda nervous but you were kind for him to trust you and like the last preference you went to IMP to work there
Lonna(Goth queen):Anytime when she was with Blitz
So you got a a job at IMP and you tried to talk to her but Moxxie is telling you to not so you didn't for a while until you just did and she at first wasn't listening to you until she found out you like some of the same stuff as her and she kinda became your friend
Stolas(Birdy :<):Loo Loo land
So you worked for IMP and Blitzo had you and M&M to come along to protect Stolas and Octavia at Loo Loo Land,After a while Stolas started taking a liking towards you and was like "Blitzy give that one and you still have the book"
Stella(Sorry):Idk
You were a servant/maid for the Goitia family and she was kinda nice to you but was still a bitch
Stirker(I mean!~):Teen times
You were Millies sibling and knew him some what around the ranch and his father so at one point when you were trying to get on a big ass horse and kept falling,he walked over and was kind(I think he was a weet heart in his childhood and teens but his dad messed it all up)and he said"Do ya need help?" He smiled and helped you up and you guys started talking after becoming friends
Asmdeuos&Fizzarolli(IM SORRY I PUT THEM TOGETHER I JUST-UGH!I LOVE THEM BOTH SO SO MUCH SO I WILL GLADLY DATE BOTH!):Anytime
So you were a stripper for them and they never really noticed you until you pulled a amazing stunt(?) So after they had a talk with you and started saying how good you are and that you are probably the best stripper which you became close to them
Verosika(Mommy):Anytime
You one of her BIGGEST fans in hell and on time at her concert when you were shouting "I love you!" She winked at you and after the concert she had you come back stage and she had you join her little group
Vortex(....Well!~):Anytime
So you were part of Verosika's little group,he never really payed attention to you but at one point you started flirting with him and he was pretty chill about it and was screaming on the inside and after that you guys became close
Mammon(Fat Christmas tree that I love!):Anytime
So you performed for him at one point which he really liked you and your style so he had you like work with him and now you are the SIN OF GREEDS pet.Maybe?
Beeulzubub(slay queen bee!):anytime
You were at one of her party's and she started talking to you and was like acting like your best friend and after she like gave you her number,you guys started hanging out
So I forgot Lucifer so!
Lucifer(eat me out please):when he visits the hotel
So when he visits he noticed you were like a parent to Charlie and he wasn't mad about it because she needed a parent figure(Alastor:I'm a roach-wait no nifty!)*and he stared talking to and was like "new Lilith?" In his head
My oc's
Helen:Anytime
So you came to her bar and she caught interest in you and would start talking to you and be kind flirty while also being a sweetheart and then you guys meet again at the hotel
Dawn:anytime
You were also a model for Velvette like her and she noticed how good you are and wanted you to teach her and so you did and then you guys met again in the hotel
THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HAVE READ THIS!<3
THANK YOU FOR 57 LIKES( Is that what their called?)
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dirtymana · 10 hours
Text
Simon/reader
This is my first Simon fic so be kind! Check me out on Ao3 (DirtyMana)
Fuck.
Rage was a nasty thing. Where anger simmered, rage boiled over. Where sorrow lingered, rage consumed. Simon knew that this would bring nothing but pain, though that didn't stop the nasty sensation from creeping up his throat, paired nicely with bile and an excess of saliva. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched. He felt feral.
It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that other men could conjure up flirtations so easily. Wasn't fair that other men could make your lashes flutter and your cheeks flush. You weren't his, sure, but maybe if he had the words you would be. Why didn't he have the words?
Simon knew how he felt. He knew he softened his tone around you. Knew he went out of his way to make you laugh. Knew his heart beat faster at the sight of you. But how do you put any of that into words? 
This would all be fine if it was just sexual. He’d had his fair share of quick fucks, sure, but this was different. This went deeper. You deserve better than him, he knows that, but still he craves what he can not have. He fumes in the corner of the shitty pub. Rages. Watches silently as you brush drunken advances off, ordering a second round and swiftly carrying the drinks back to your shared booth. Your lips move but he doesn't hear a thing. Just nods every few seconds. 
“Simon?”
Can't you see what you do to him?
“Simon.”
Can’t you see how he aches?
“Simon!”
He startles. He can’t remember the last time someone startled him. The fuck’s happening to me?
“Hm?”
“You okay? Been hitting it pretty hard.”
Your pretty eyes dart down. His gaze follows. Empty glasses that were once filled with a piss-poor brew are scattered around him. Shit. 
“Guess ‘m just feelin' a bit messy.”
Concern dances across your features, a confused smile melting into a pout.
Fuck
“Do you need me to drive you home?”
You must be able to tell he’s about to refuse because your face hardens, insistence written all over.
“Alright big guy, let’s go.”
The car ride is quiet, nearly silent if not for your soft humming. The tune had been damn near intolerable when blasting through the pub’s speakers, though your sweet voice transforms it into something much more grand. His thoughts swirl as he watches the dreary scenery flit by, head pressed to the window of your car. 
You’re too sweet. Too kind. It isn't fair that you're so good and he’s so bad.
It isn't long before you're pulling into his driveway, your headlights shining into the bare interior of his house. Price had encouraged him to buy the place, tired of Simon lingering on base when he should’ve been relaxing. He had yet to decorate, much to your irritation. “What kind’ve friend am I if I let you live like this?” You'd said it with a teasing smirk, gesturing wildly about. Cute.
There is a moment of pause, the car’s engine rumbling to a stop. You turn your head, presumably to say something, though you stop yourself. He thinks for a second that you're trying to kick him out, bid him farewell and leave. You really ought to. You don’t. When he reaches for his car door, you reach for yours. You loop your arm through his while walking him to his door, as if you could steady his stumbling, catch his fall. Simon breaks contact only to rifle through his pockets, pulling his house key out and sliding into the door. Again, there is a pause, a moment of uncertainty. Your eyes seem to plead. When he turns the handle he makes sure to give you enough room to slide past him, shedding shoes and coats in his entryway.
Already the room seems more alive, your scattered belongings somehow ushering light into his dark little life. Few words are exchanged as you help him shed his outer layers, the occasional murmur of his name and exacerbated chuckle echoing in the foyer. He catches himself leaning into your warm touch. 
Fuck
You manage to untangle yourself from his grip, nudging him away from the door. He briefly considers making his way to his actual bed, but quickly dismisses the thought. He doesn't want to scare you off and, honestly, in his squiffy stupor, the couch looks quite nice. With his back the cushions and his arms outstretched he looks to you.
“C’mon then, pet.”
You blush, must be the lighting, and follow suit, making yourself comfortable atop his chest. It’s not rare that the two of you touch, though it’s the first time Simon’s been the one to instigate. If he could purr, he would. He’s getting lazy, not even trying to hide the way his droopy eyes trace the lines of your face. He leans forward a centimeter, an inch, two inches. He’s ready for you to jerk back. For you to scream. For you to insist that you always have been, and always will be, just friends. But you don’t do any of those things. You lean forward too. You close the gap.
Sparks fly as lips part. 
Didn’t know it could be like this, I don’t think. Didn’t know it could be so sweet. So soft. Is this what all those lovesick, puppy-eyed recruits were talking about?
Thoughts slowed as the kiss went on. It felt like touching an exposed wire, somehow burning and numbing all at the same time, intensifying every feeling yet dulling any sense that wasn't focused on you. When you pull away, an unspoken tension seems to be cleared from the air, leaving only the comfortable warmth of familiarity and affection. Simon wants to say something suave, something charming. Simon wants to finally find the words. But his eyelids feel so heavy and you feel so warm and for the first time in his life, he knows he will sleep.
It can wait for the morning. I can wait for the morning.
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missterious-figure · 2 days
Note
Wine and feathers reverse AU. Y/N is an EXTREMELY rare Gold rose peafowl. They are the pride and joy of the Casino and are treated better than royalty. However, that means they're spoiled rotten and kick out any handler at the slightest displeasure. Sun, Moon and Eclipse were brothers who all applied for the position of Y/N's handler and passed with flying colours. When Y/N was asked to choose they said "All three or no one ever again"
Thus proceeds shenanigans and Y/N trying to woo all three of them to be their mates.
(Note: this y/n is masculine and uses he/him pronouns)
You strutted into the bar, looking around. You smirked as everyone turned their heads to you. You couldn't blame them, though. How could anyone not want to see your beautiful rose gold feathers? Especially when they glistened oh so perfectly in the sunlight that beamed through the windows. You did love the attention, but you were aiming to trap the attention of someone else. Well, three people, actually.
You had just been given three new handlers, Sam, Maxwell, and Eric. You liked to just call them Sun, Moon, and Eclipse. Though the three were brothers, and all really muscular and hot, they all looked really different from each other. Sam had blue eyes and fluffy gold-blonde hair. Maxwell's eyes were a deep ember, almost red, and he sported long silver gray hair, normally tied back in a ponytail or braid. Eric had eyes so light brown they appeared yellow. His bronze brown hair wasn't as long as Maxwrll's. But it wasn't as short as Sam's either. Eric was also the tallest of the brothers.
You weren't sure about the three of them when they first came. Soon you were head over-heels. They were nice to you, sure, but more importantly, they were feisty. They flirted and teased you back. You loved the challenge of "out flirting" them. How you enjoyed to see them blush. It's the perfect reward.
Just as you were thinking of their rosy faces, you noticed Sam sitting alone at the bar ordering a drink. His back was facing you, so he hadn't noticed you. Perfect. You snuck up behind him like a shadow. Be it a super shiny rose shadow, but whatever. Sam had just received his drink. He said thanks to bartender. Before he could even take a sip you had gently cupped his face from behind. He was started at first, but then noticed your metallic purple gloves.
"Hello there, darling."
He put a hand on one of yours and glanced back at you. He had to look up to meet your eyes, given you were 8.7 feet tall. He was only 6.5. Such a short thing. Well, at least in your standards. You rested your head on his broad shoulder, whispering in his ear. "Hello, my sweet Sun."Sam raised a brow and giggled.
"Is that the name you've given me? First you name Eric Eclipse, and then Maxwell Moon. What is with this celestial theme, my love?"
"Because you guys aren't only the lights of my life, but the center of my world."
Bingo, you thought to yourself. Sam had started blushing a brilliant pink, like the setting sun. He needed to think of something, fast. Then he smiled. He regained his competence and caught your face in his hands. Without wasting any time, he brought you nose to nose with him. He whispered back.
"Come on, darling, you know we revolve around you."
He pushed his face closer, like he was gonna kiss you. At the last second he pulled back, grabbed his drink, and swerved past you.
"See ya, my love."
He calmly walked out of the bar, humming, leaving a very flustered peacock harpy shocked. Your cheek feathers were all bristled. He almost kissed you. He almost... You touched you lips quietly, wishing he had gone through with his silly little plan. You longed for his lips on yours. Sam was going to pay for teasing you like that. You are going to steal a kiss from him... eventually. He may have won the battle, but this was a war. And you intended to win.
Here's a picture of what I imagine peacock y/n to look like!
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Tehe. 8.7 ft bastard y/n. As a baby you were called amethyst eyes. Your favorite color is purple.
(Also, Eric is 7.1 ft. Maxwell is 6.5 ft, just like Sam)
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nanaminokanojo · 3 days
Text
ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 30
-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur
CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters
GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw
TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 30 next>>
A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. 6th panel is a video.
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“I can do it, you know,” you insisted again
“Not having it. I should make sure you’re getting the best care.”
You arched a brow at him, sitting stiffly beside him, not really seeing how it was easier when he said, “Prop your legs up on my lap.”
“Huh?”
He didn’t explain any further and instead stood up, carrying you bridal style and propping you on the couch so your back was against the armrest while he gently placed your legs across his lap. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.”
“N-no, but –”
“No buts.”
As he moved around you, you couldn't help but stare at him. His usually intimidating demeanor softened as he meticulously put the ointment on the abrasions on your leg with a cotton swab. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers deft and precise, eyes intense as he focused on his task. The room was silent except for your steady breathing. At that moment, Sukuna's care and attention just took center stage.
“You do this often?” you teased. “With other girls, I mean.”
He shook his head. “Consider yourself special.”
“I’m only special ‘cause you nearly killed me.” You laughed at your own joke, not meaning anything by it, about to swing your legs off of him when he held onto them, his hand quickly but very gently settling on the shin of your right leg. “I…I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”
Sukuna leaned towards you, placing his free hand on the backrest. You met his gaze, not liking the turmoil that seemed to swirl in his dark eyes which, you noticed, were flecked with dark garnets and amethysts with the way the sun was shining on him.
“I’ll never hurt you,” he told you softly. He closed his eyes in agitation before flashing you an apologetic smile. “Not intentionally, anyway.”
“Stop saying it that way.”
“Hmm. What way?”
“Like you’re considering the possibility that you would.” You mustered all the courage you had, reached out and cupped his face, making him look at you. “You’ve taken care of me better than anyone so far. I am grateful for that. Don’t ever forget it.”
He placed his hands over yours. “How are you this gracious? It’s unsettling.”
At that, you felt your heart stutter. It’s happening again. “Is that bad?”
Sukuna laughed. “How is that even bad? I swear to god, you worry about the weirdest things. It’s good. It’s just that…”
“Just what?” You withdrew your hands, looking away. That overwhelming feeling akin to being submerged in cold water made its way from your toes to your chest, making it hard to breathe. “People hate me, you know? They hate me because they think I’m just pretending. I acted out once because I was too tired to deal with anyone, and they all started leaving, telling me I’m a –”
He didn’t like what he was hearing. “That’s ridiculous.”
You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. “But I admire you, Sukuna. You show everyone the real you, and they like you for it.
Unlike me, you thought, concealing the thought with a smile, but that was short-lived when he said his next words.
“I like you.”
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hgfictionwriter · 5 hours
Text
Maybe This Time - Part Three
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.
Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.
A/N: Part two and one. Part Four will likely be the finale.
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"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 
Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 
"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 
"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 
Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 
"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 
"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 
"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 
"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 
Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  
"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 
"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 
Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 
She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 
"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  
"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 
"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 
"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 
"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 
Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  
She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  
"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 
Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  
"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 
"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 
"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 
"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 
"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 
"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 
"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 
"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 
Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.  
"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 
Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 
Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 
Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  
"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 
Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  
"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  
"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  
"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 
"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 
Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 
"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 
Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  
"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  
Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  
"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 
"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  
"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 
Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 
She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  
If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  
Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  
"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 
————
By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.
She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.
“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.
“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.
“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”
“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”
“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.
As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.
By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.
“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.
“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.
“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”
Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.
“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”
You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”
“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.
“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”
Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”
A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”
“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”
You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.
“Sure. Sounds great.”
After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.
“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”
Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.
“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”
She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.
“What?” She asked.
“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”
Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.
“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.
“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”
“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”
She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”
“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”
“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.
“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."
You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 
Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  
Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 
"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 
You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 
"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 
Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  
"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 
Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 
"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 
Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  
"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 
She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  
"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  
Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 
You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  
"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  
You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 
"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 
Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 
Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  
Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 
There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  
"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."
Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.
"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 
"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.
"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  
In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  
You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 
Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 
You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  
"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 
Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 
"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 
Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 
Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 
"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 
You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  
Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 
You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 
"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 
Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  
"I'm glad to hear that." 
You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  
"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 
"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 
She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.
"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."
"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 
Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 
You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 
"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 
Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 
"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  
"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 
She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  
85 notes · View notes
songbirdseung · 3 days
Text
photobooth / sim jaeyun
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synopsis: take a picture, it'll last longer
pairing: college students jake x reader, strangers, campus crush
warnings: none?? maybe college?? lol, lmk if i missed anything
wc: 1k
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Sitting outside, eating lunch with your friends in one of the park-like areas of your university was a common occurrence. But today was different. Today, you caught a glimpse of the new foreign exchange student from South Korea.
You were the friend who was always single, the one who constantly complained about being alone but never really ventured outside the house. You never made the effort to ask anyone out. Yet, something inside you compelled you to get up from your picnic blanket and approach the attractive stranger.
"Your soup is going to get cold, YN. What are you even looking at?" Yuna asked, trying to match your line of sight. Eventually, her eyes landed on the man sitting on a bench. "Oh, Jake. I see."
"Jake? You know him?" you asked. Yuna nodded and explained that he was in her science class. He was known to be a smart guy, originally from South Korea but also from Australia. You looked back at where Jake had been sitting, but the bench was now empty.
"Awh, is little baby YN finally falling for someone?" Sunghoon teased.
Ever since that day, you had a new endeavor: to find or at least catch a glimpse of Jake every day. Whenever you got out of class early, you would rush to Yuna's science class, knowing Jake would be there. Naturally, your friends teased you, calling you obsessive and a stalker. Unbeknownst to you, you weren't very discreet because Jake had definitely noticed your love-filled stares, thanks in part to his friend, Jay.
"Do you know her?" Jay asked one day while he and Jake were playing soccer with other people. Jay had noticed a girl sitting in the bleachers with her friend. That girl was you, and you had convinced Yuna to watch Jake practice.
"Don't forget about me when you start dating him," Yuna nudged you playfully.
"Oh, please. Like you didn't avoid me for a week when you started dating Sunghoon," you retorted with a grin. As you both playfully argued, Jake paused, took a good look at you, and shook his head at Jay.
"This is actually the first time I've seen her," Jake admitted.
A week later, there you were again at Jake's practice, but this time you were by yourself. Deep down, you knew you were being kind of creepy and weird, but having a crush makes you do the strangest things. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t pay much attention to the game, simply spacing out until the very end of the practice. You snapped out of it only when Jake made his way towards you, his Aussie accent pulling you back to reality.
"Hey, space cadet!" Jake called out with a grin, snapping his fingers in front of your face.
Startled, you blinked and looked up at him. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just… thinking."
"Thinking, huh?" Jake laughed. "Must have been some deep thoughts. I'm Jake, by the way."
"Yeah, I know," you replied nervously. "I'm YN."
"Nice to officially meet you, YN," he said, extending his hand. After you shook it, he continued, "So, I’ve noticed you’ve been around a lot lately. Do you always come to watch soccer practice, or am I just that interesting?"
You blushed, trying to find the right words. "Well, um, maybe a bit of both?"
Jake chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Jay told me you’ve got a bit of a crush on me."
You felt your face heat up even more. "He did, did he? That’s… embarrassing."
"Not really," Jake said with a smile. "It’s kind of cute, actually. So, tell me more about yourself. What’s your major?"
As you both started talking, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You found yourselves laughing and sharing stories, and it felt like an instant spark, as if you had known each other your whole lives.
"You know," Jake said after a while, "I feel like we’ve been friends forever. This is nice."
"Yeah," you agreed, smiling. "It really is."
Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Jake grew stronger. You found yourselves hanging out more often, whether it was grabbing coffee after classes, studying together in the library, or just chatting about life.
One afternoon, as you were both sitting under a large oak tree on campus, Jake turned to you with a smile. "So, YN, tell me something I don't know about you yet."
You thought for a moment, then grinned. "I can play the guitar. Not many people know that about me."
"Really? That's awesome!" Jake exclaimed. "You have to play for me sometime."
"Only if you promise not to laugh if I mess up," you said, nudging him playfully.
"I promise," Jake said, raising his hand as if taking an oath.
Another day, you both decided to go for a hike in the nearby hills. As you reached the top, the view took your breath away. Standing side by side, you both admired the scenery in comfortable silence.
"It's beautiful up here," you said softly.
"Yeah, it is," Jake replied, looking at you instead of the view. "Thanks for suggesting this."
"No problem," you said, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
As the days turned into weeks, Jake became a constant presence in your life. One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Jake looked at you and said, "You know, I really appreciate having you around. You make everything more fun."
"Thanks, Jake," you replied, smiling. "I feel the same way."
One night, while sitting on a bench after a late-night coffee run, Jake turned to you with a serious expression. "YN, I've been thinking… We've become really close, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I feel like there's something more here. Do you feel it too?"
Your heart raced as you met his gaze. "I do, Jake. I’ve felt it for a while now."
He smiled, reaching out to take your hand. "So, what do you say we give this a shot? See where it goes?"
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a surge of happiness. "I'd like that a lot."
From that moment on, your relationship with Jake blossomed into something even more special. The bond you shared, built on a foundation of friendship, grew stronger with each passing day.
133 notes · View notes
golbrocklovely · 23 hours
Text
complicated // colby brock (pt. 2)
A/N: hilariously when i first drafted this, i was gonna make it a lot meaner/hate fucking like, with a lot of jealousy thrown in. but damnit, bridgerton has foiled my plans again and has really turned me into a lover lol so i made this a little bit softer than originally planned. hope yall like it regardless, and please let me know what you think :) see yall with another fic real soon !
prompt: time has passed since you and sam hooked up, and all seems well. except now… colby is upset with you for some unknown reason. || fem!reader x colby brock
trigger warning: SMUT, angst, jealous!colby, possessive!colby, he's still really sweet tho, you guys were out clubbing so... tipsy/drunk sex, mentions of: baby, good girl, darling, cursing, quasi-public sex, could almost get caught, lots of teasing (both sexually and non), mentions of colby having seen you and sam hooking up, sweet ending :)
word count: 3066
~~~~~~~
The morning after Sam and I had sex was awkward to say the least.
We both ignored each other, which was easy since Sam and Colby had many calls and business related things to do. And I, being their assistant, had my own tasks at hand for the following week to start.
But when Sam and I were finally able to sit down and talk about it, it went surprisingly well.
We came to two very important conclusions: one, while we had fun, we weren’t going to ever do it again. We cared too much about our friendship to let sex ruin it. Plus the spark really had only been there that night.
And two, we were to never tell Colby.
Everything seemed good for a while. Life got back into the swing of things; Sam and Colby were traveling, I was handling the business side while they were gone. Normal, boring life occurred.
But all the while, I had this strange feeling. Maybe it was due to the fact that Colby had grown cold towards me, almost standoffish. He sometimes would keep to himself, that wasn't unusual; but his demeanor around me became stiff, almost like he was upset at me.
I wanted to confront him, ask him what was wrong, but it never felt like the right time. When the right time finally did come, it was during a couple days stretch where the boys had off. One night when we went out and both came home empty handed, I decided to finally ask him.
His answer was not at all what I was expecting, but in a way it was the one I wanted to hear all along.
I wanted the truth and now I was finally getting it.
~~~~~~
“No way. I cannot believe you used to run away from cops for a living.” Nicole, Sam’s new… friend, said as we walked into Sam and Colby’s house.
A playful look rested on Sam’s face as he nodded. “Yeah, and we did it pretty well.”
“Up until you got arrested.” I chimed in, smirking.
She gasped. “Oh my God, you got arrested? For what?”
“Breaking and entering. And fake ids.” Colby explained.
“Woah woah, the fake ids were just a you charge, Colby.” Sam replied defensively.
“And that was the first and last time Sam and Colby were separated ever again.” I quipped.
Colby turned to look at Sam, a faux-pained expression on his face. “I just can't quit you.”
“Me neither, brother.” Sam sniffled, pretending to hold back tears. The both placed hands on each others' shoulders, giving a tight squeeze.
Nicole glanced back and forth at Sam, Colby, and me, amused. “You guys are so funny. I have been having such a blast all night.”
“I'm happy to entertain you for as long as you'd like.” Sam lowered his voice to an almost sultry tone, moving to her side.
She bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “Maybe you could do that alone? Upstairs, perhaps?"
Sam gave a cheeky look at me and Colby, "I'll see you guys later."
Nicole giggled as she pulled Sam up the stairs, Sam following suit as he whispered something to her and snickered. I peered over at Colby, waiting for Sam's door to shut before speaking. "Well, she seems nice."
“Yeah she's sweet.” Colby agreed, pulling out his phone. He began to walk to the kitchen, and I followed him.
“So... what do you plan to do the rest of the night?” I asked.
He mumbled. “Might order some postmates, then call it a night.”
“Exciting.” I deadpanned, slightly annoyed at him. I changed the subject, thinking that was the cause, “That new club we went to was a lot of fun. The live music was so cool to hear.”
“Yeah it was.” Colby didn't look up, continuing to scroll through his phone.
I sighed, exhausted. “You know, you've been acting this way all night with me.”
“Like what?” He exhaled, finally looking up.
“Short. To the point.” I stated.
He shrugged. “I don't feel like being social.”
I scrunched my face at him, “It was your idea to go out tonight.”
“My social battery ran out really fast then.” Colby blinked, frowning.
“It's not just tonight though. You've been like this for over a week at this point. I thought maybe it was because of work, but....” I trailed off, unsure.
He pursed his lips, “What?”
“You're icing me out. What did I do?” I questioned, stepping towards him.
He moved back, shaking his head. “I don't want to talk about this.”
I followed him. “Well I do. So talk.”
“Okay, if you really want to talk…” He rubbed his eyes for a moment, finally speaking. “Do you have something to tell me?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
He repeated, his eyes icy. “Do you have something to tell me?”
I sucked my teeth, knowing exactly what Colby was referring to. “...I'm gonna kill Sam.”
He chuckled darkly, “Oh, no no. Don't get pissed at the guy that told me what happened.”
I huffed, “We promised each other not to tell you.”
“He folded real quick on that.” Colby crossed his arms, leaning against the counter.
I stared up at him, puzzled. “When did he tell you?”
“A couple days after it happened.” He informed.
I groaned, spinning to yell towards the stairs, “He really went behind my back and just flat out told you. What the fuck, Sam?!”
“Why didn't you tell me?” Colby argued.
I turned back, “Oh, c'mon Colby. You know why.”
“No please, do tell. I would love to hear why.” He jeered.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “Do you think I want to tell one of my best friends 'hey just so you know, me and your other best friend, who is also my friend, fucked'? Of course not!”
“Why? You shouldn't feel uncomfortable doing that. Since you did it so publicly, in this very room, might I add.” He shot back.
My eyes widened for a second. “He told you we fucked in the kitchen?”
“No. He's too nice for that.” Colby stepped towards me, almost looming over me. “Do you remember a couple months back when we thought someone was trying to break into the house, so we got extra security cameras installed?”
I crossed my arms defensively, “What does that have to do with this?”
“We didn't get the cameras installed just outside the house. We also got some installed in the common areas. One in the living room....” He leaned down, whispering. “And one in the kitchen.”
“You're kidding.” My breath hitched involuntarily. 
“Any and every movement that happens in these areas gets recorded. When Sam told me you two fucked, I thought he was joking. But I checked…” His voice fell off, an almost smirk coming to his face.
I stuttered, “Y-You-?”
“You really know how to put on a performance.” Colby spoke condescendingly, staring into my eyes with a mischievous glint.
I scoffed, putting space between us. “Fuck you.”
He rolled his eyes, “You wish.”
I glared, exhaling harshly. “You know, you're acting like a jealous boyfriend.”
“Really?” He sassed.
“Yeah. Why the fuck do you care if I slept with Sam? You've never cared about who he hooks up with. But you suddenly care when it's me?" I scowled.
“I care who he hooks up with.” He argued.
I placed my hands on my hips, “Name me literally one girl he's gotten with within the last month or two. Any of them.”
“Nicole is upstairs with him now.” He remarked sarcastically.
I narrowed my gaze, “She doesn't count.”
“Sorry I don't memorize all of their names. I don't need to really remember them since I'm not the one sleeping with them.” Colby bickered, turning away from me.
I thought for a moment, a realization appearing in my mind, “Any time I've almost hooked up with someone, you've always been so aggressive towards them afterwards. But now since it was Sam, you're angry with me.”
“I'm upset because you didn't tell me. Instead, you wanted to keep it a secret from me. That's why I'm pissed.” He rebutted, facing me once more.
“But what's the difference between Sam telling you or me telling you? You've known basically since it happened, why are you still holding it against me?” I sneered, “Unless, of course, you're jealous.”
He queried angrily, “Jealous of what, exactly?”
“You're jealous I didn't sleep with you.” I hissed.
He shook his head, his voice faltering. “Give me a break, Y/N.”
“No no, be honest Colby. Why else are you pissed? You found out a week ago, and have held it against me just because I wasn't the one that told you. You found out regardless, so what is there to be pissed about?” I searched his eyes, but he tilted his head away from my glare. “It's none of your fucking business who I sleep with, whether it's Sam, the guy down the street, or a random guy at the club. You're not my boyfriend. I'm allowed to fuck whoever I want to!”
I spun on my heel, but Colby's hand gripped my wrist, spinning me back to him. My eyes locked with his for a brief moment as he grabbed my face, kissing me deeply. I shuddered a breath, taken aback by how passionate the kiss was. Colby wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against him, as his other hand pulled on my hair lightly.
“You're right, Y/N. I hate how fucking right you always are.” He nipped at my lips, a low groan leaving his mouth. “Do you know how frustrating it is seeing you with other guys? Seeing them put their hands on you, when that's all I can think about doing?”
“Colby!” I gasped quietly, our mouths meeting again. He pressed me against the counter, the spot feeling eerily similar on my back.
Was this the same spot as-?
“I shouldn't have been a dick to you, I'm sorry. But I will never apologize for wanting you all to myself.” His voice came out in an almost growl, “I want you to be mine, and mine alone.”
My mouth fumbled over my words, my hands gliding up his back. “W-Why didn't you just say that? Why now?”
“Seeing you fuck Sam in here weirdly was the wake up call I needed,” he chuckled bitterly. “I thought that maybe all this time I was just overly protective but no... I am jealous. I don’t want to see you with anyone else ever again.”
Colby's hand lifted up my leg, wrapping it around his waist. He slowly inched his fingers higher and higher until he was under my dress, tickling the lining of my underwear. “Let me show you how badly I want you. Please.”
My knees almost buckled at the sound of his voice. The desperation. I nodded, unable to form words, and his hand slowly slid up more until he pressed his palm against my sex. I squeaked unintentionally, a smirk coming to his face. He rubbed slow circles into my clit, my back arching instantly.
“You're already soaking through your panties... Fuck me.” He grunted.
I bit my lip, “Seeing you jealous is honestly kind of a turn on.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? You like making me jealous? You like me being possessive of you?”
“I like hearing you admit you like me, so if that does the trick…” I trailed off, teasingly.
He pressed harder into my clit, a moan ripping through me when he did. He moved his mouth down, sucking on my neck in time with his movements.
My hands snaked down his torso, touching every muscle on my way to his belt. I clutched the buckle, loosening his belt from his pants. I slipped my hand inside, cupping his growing bulge. He gasped, grinding his cock into my hand.
He closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck baby, that feels so good.”
My cunt clenched at the sound of his voice, needing him deeply. “Please Colby. Fuck, I want you so badly.”
“I need you too, Y/N.” Colby exhaled harshly, “Spin around for me.”
I glanced at him for a moment, shocked by the hunger in his eyes. I turned around, placing my hands on the counter. The cool surface felt like ice against my hot skin, the hairs on my arms standing on end. I heard a package ripping, Colby sliding a condom on that he grabbed from his wallet. Suddenly his hands were on me, pulling the skirt of my dress up until it rested above my ass. He rolled my panties down, his hands massaging my thighs on their way back up.
“You ready for me?” His voice dripped with an aching need: me.
I breathlessly sighed, “Yes, please.”
He pushed my legs open, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I mewled at the feeling, backing my hips up until my ass hit his crotch. He groaned, his one hand gripping my hip while the other rested on my back.
Slowly he glided his cock inside of me, both of us holding our breaths as he did. I stretched around him, his size bigger than what I was used to. He filled me up more and more, my eyes fluttering in ecstasy. His body relaxed against mine once he was all the way in, a shuddering 'fuck' falling from his lips.
“Move, Colby. God, please!” I begged.
His hand moved around me to cover my mouth jokingly. "Shh, you can't be too loud. Don't want Sam and his girl to know what we're doing."
I rolled my eyes, knowing that they were lost in their own world and would give no shits about us fucking in here. Colby smirked against my skin, kissing and nibbling my neck and shoulders. His hand drifted back, running through my hair, tugging lightly. His hips began to move in low thrusts. I bit my lip to not moan loudly, but it was so hard. He felt like heaven, and way better than all of my dreams had imagined.
“God, you feel amazing, Y/N.” Colby whispered lightly, “So wet for me.”
I gripped the counter, holding myself into place as he bucked into me. I moved my hips in time with his, meeting him with each thrust.
His hands cupped my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into them. “You are fucking gorgeous, baby.”
I hummed a moan, my head lulling back. Colby's hand collided with my ass quickly, slapping it. I let out a small shriek, surprised by the impact.
“Colby!” I giggled, looking over my shoulder at him.
He grinned, his dimples appearing briefly. “Can't help it. Wanted to do that for so long.”
“Really? So you've been staring at my ass all this time?” I questioned.
“Oh yeah. Every chance I get.” He raised his eyebrows smugly.
“Perv.” I joked.
Colby laughed, sliding all the way inside of me and stopping. He pressed me against the counter, his hand drifting down and rubbing my clit. “And you're just like me.”
My eyes almost rolled back into my head from the pleasure. “H-how?”
“You're letting me fuck you right in the same spot Sam fucked you in. They could come down any minute and catch us. You want that to happen, don't you?” He grunted, his voice sounding like pure sex.
His fingers on my clit made it hard to think, let alone respond. I stuttered out a curse. His lips were against my ear, “You're mine from now on, you hear me? No one will ever touch you like this again besides me. Say it. Say you're mine.”
“I-I'm yours.” I whimpered.
“Again.” His hips started back up, fucking me harder against the counter than ever before.
“'M yours.” I slurred, my orgasm growing closer and closer.
He slapped my ass again, “Tell me one more time, darling.” 
“I'm yours! Fuck Colby, I'm yours!” I exclaimed, unable to hold back.
“That's my good girl! Fuck yourself on my cock. Do it.” Colby demanded.
I bounced on his dick, his fingers still rubbing my clit over and over again. I was panting, unable to hold back any noises that escaped my throat. My hand slid down to his hand on my clit, pressing him more into me. I gripped his wrist, my nails digging in.
“You close baby? You gonna fucking come for me?” He cursed, his thrusts picking up speed.
I cried out, “Pleaseeee Colbyyy, I wanna come!”
His other hand wrapped around my throat, lightly squeezing for a second. He taunted, “Shhh, you can't scream, Y/N. Even though I know you want to."
Colby pounded into me harder, guttural moans and the sounds of our skin slapping together filling the room.
His voice was hoarse, hungry. “I'm close, darling. Ffffuck you feel so good!”
I desperately whined back, white knuckling the counter as my high grew near. "I'm gonna fucking-!"
“That's it, Y/N. Come for me. Soak my cock and come!” Colby thundered.
My body exploded into an orgasm, my vision blurring. I cried out in ecstasy and pleasure, my hips bucking helplessly around his cock. Colby picked up his pace, thrusting into me passionately. His husky groans echoed in my ear as he came. His hands dug into my skin, his fingers curved as he rubbed my clit through my orgasm. I shook against him, my body finally relaxing against the counter as my pleasure subsided a minute later.
He rested his forehead against my back, spreading lazy kisses and licks across my shoulders and neck. I smiled, catching my breath slowly. His hands moved, softly caressing my skin as he stood up. He picked me up off the counter, spinning me back to face him. Resting me back against it, his body still against mine. His eyes scanned my face, taking in every detail.
“Hi.” He whispered sweetly.
I grinned, “Hi.”
“You okay?” He asked, lightly brushing my hair out of my face.
“Never better. You?” I giggled.
“I'm great.” Colby pecked my lips, pausing briefly. “I wasn't kidding when I said all of that, you know."
"I believe you." I breathed.
"So... you're still mine, right?” He murmured.
“Of course." I lowered my gaze bashfully, "And you're mine?”
He nudged my face up, our eyes locking. “Absolutely.”
<< part one ||
32 notes · View notes
mimisempai · 3 days
Text
I wasn't expecting you 4/5
Chapter Summary - Pastry date
Aziraphale comes as expected to collect his pastries, and receives a lot more...
Notes
It seems they're good at surprising each other...
On Ao3
Rating G -  2202 words
Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5
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"So how did you like it last night?"
Crowley, who was restocking the pastries in the display case, replied to Nina without turning around, " You guys are a pretty nice, fun group. Even if you've had one too many."
As he chuckled, Nina protested, "Hey, it was the carpet seller who had one too many. We weren't sober, that's clear, but we weren't drunk either. Besides, you should be thanking us for taking care of the 'Brown' problem."
"Yes, in a very subtle way."
He straightened and Nina shrugged, "It's the result that counts, right?"
She leaned toward him and said in a conspiratorial voice, "And what do you think of the bookseller?"
"He is... interesting."
"Interesting?! Interesting?! I had to put up with poor Mr. Brown's lamentations, and all you can tell me is that he is interesting?"
Their bickering was interrupted by the jingle of the door bell, and Crowley's chuckle died in his throat as the object of their conversation had just walked through the door.
Nina nudged him and whispered, "I'll leave you with this... interesting customer."
Crowley shook his head as he watched Aziraphale approach the counter and greeted him, "Welcome Aziraphale, what will it be today?"
"Good morning Crowley. I don't know yet, let me see what you have."
The barista watched with mild amusement as the bookseller paced back and forth in front of the display case, hands behind his back, looking for his pastry.
Then Aziraphale turned to him and said, "I'd be tempted by a slice of apple pie, but the slices are pretty big. I was wondering..."
He took a few steps closer and continued, "Do you have a break? Maybe we could share it and..."
Crowley didn't have time to react as he felt Nina unfasten his apron behind his back while she said, "He's entitled to a break and besides, as luck would have it, it's now." Then she nudged Crowley and added, "Come on, come on, half an hour, so don't waste a minute. I'll bring you the pie and..."
Aziraphale, an amused gleam in his eye, continued, "A cup of Earl Grey."
Crowley, realizing he had no chance of resisting, not that he wanted to, added, "An espresso for me."
He pointed to an empty table in the back of the coffee shop and said to Aziraphale, "After you."
A few seconds later, they sat down and waited for Nina to come up with their 'order'. When she had placed the drinks and the halved slice of pie on the table, she said to Crowley, "The half-hour starts now," then walked away without looking back.
The two men looked at each other and laughed together.
"Always so subtle."
Crowley nodded before asking, "Isn't the bookshop open this morning?"
"Yes, Muriel, my co-worker is here. I don't like dealing with customers, but they're very good at it, so we work it out."
The barista nodded and asked with interest, without a trace of judgment in his voice, "So it wasn't really a joke on Nina's part?"
Aziraphale shook his head and said in a self-deprecating tone, "I inherited this bookshop. It was my grandfather's, and he took me in when I left my... family at 18. I'm a literary critic, I love to read, and I'm not really a shopkeeper, not to mention the fact that I'm very attached to books, so I find it hard to part with them. But it's no miracle, you have to make money to keep the shop going, so Muriel came along at just the right time, a bit like you did with Nina. They intuitively know which books to buy for the bookshop to sell and which ones belong to my... collection. So they take care of the practical side of things, and I can get on with my work, surrounded by my precious books.  I'm not even a bookseller, you see".  
"Impostor," Crowley teased as he took a bite of pie.
Aziraphale laughed softly and continued, "But I'm only talking about myself. I know barista isn't your only job. What else have you done?"
Crowley replied, "Barista is the job I've done the most, but I've also been hired several times as a mechanic's helper because I have an old car I like to tinker with, and I've also done courier work. But none of that is my dream job. In fact, the reason I wanted something more stable and to be able to settle down is because..."
Crowley paused, realizing he was about to tell someone about his dream for the first time, and someone he barely knew. 
Aziraphale must have sensed his hesitation, because he said quietly, "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, you know, we barely know each other, you don't have to..."
But Crowley wanted to, he had this compulsion, this feeling that he could tell the other man anything, so he continued, "I want to study astronomy. I know it's ridiculous, and I don't-"
"Hey, don't say that! Let me remind you that you're talking to a bookseller who doesn't sell books! My only question is, why this particular field?"
"I grew up in the country, and on summer evenings when the sky was clear, my father and I would often go to the same clearing to look at the sky. He would show me the constellations, know the names of some of the planets, and always tell me that he regretted that he hadn't studied to understand more. So when I was about ten, I promised myself I'd learn as much as I could so I could show him a lot more. But when I had just started college..."
His throat tightened and for a few moments he was unable to continue. Sensing his emotion, Aziraphale put his hand on his, which was next to his cup, and said gently, "Take your time."
Crowley thanked him with a smile, warmed by the kindness in Aziraphale's eyes, and lowered his gaze to take the time to collect himself so he could continue. 
After a few seconds, when he felt able, he resumed, "But he and Mom were in a terrible car accident and didn't make it, so, as they were my only family, I had to work to support myself and had to forget that childhood dream. Until now. I don't know if I want to make a living out of it, but I want to be able to fulfill that dream, for myself and for my father. There, you know everything."
Looking up, he saw Aziraphale's eyes shining with unshed tears as the bookseller said quietly, "Thank you for your honesty. I'm truly sorry for the loss of your parents. I know we barely know each other, but Crowley, I have to say it, you're amazing, you know? This is a very beautiful dream, and I hope with all my heart that you can make it come true."
Then he squeezed Crowley's hand before pulling it away, adding in a lighter tone, "And don't ever say it's ridiculous again."
Crowley let out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling as if he had been lifted from a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying, just by sharing his greatest secret with the man in front of him.
Then his eyes slipped to the wall clock and he exclaimed, "Oh, it's been half an hour!" He finished his coffee before standing up and saying, "My break is over. I'm sorry, I have to...
"Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"What?"
"I know it might be a little soon since we didn't know each other until yesterday, but-"
"Yes."
Aziraphale could only repeat like a parrot, "Yes?"
Crowley laughed softly and replied, "Yes, I would like to have dinner with you. Just tell me when and where."
"Tonight and at my place? I know it's not very proper for a first date, but I think it might be better for, well, you know, with the street gossip and..."
Seeing that the bookseller was starting to ramble again, Crowley stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder and said, "No, that's fine with me."
He was rewarded with a bright smile and added, "I really have to get back to work. See you tonight then!"
He walked away, then returned to ask, "What time?"
Aziraphale, who had risen, replied, "7:00?"
"Perfect!"
Crowley then joined Nina behind the counter to help her serve the arriving customers, while Aziraphale strolled happily back to the bookshop.
He stepped through the door and exclaimed cheerfully, "I'm back!"
Muriel, who had been bending over behind the counter, straightened up and replied, "Welcome back."
"I'll put the last box of books away."
"Okay!"
Aziraphale picked up a box and walked to one of the shelves, whistling a lively tune. After a few seconds, Muriel appeared and asked him suspiciously, "You look very cheerful. Any reason?"
Knowing that his colleague and friend wouldn't let go until he said something, he replied neutrally, "I have a date."
"A date? A date? Mr. 'I'm going to end my life a bachelor because no one can stand someone like me' has a date?"
"Yes, Muriel..."
"Who, where, how?"
Aziraphale chuckled and replied, "Crowley, the new barista, here, I invited him to dinner."
"Him? Whereas you didn't know him yesterday?"
Muriel reached over and touched his forehead.
Confused, Aziraphale asked, "What's the matter with you?"
"I'm checking to see if you have a fever."
Aziraphale laughed again and replied, "Idiot."
Muriel became serious again and asked quietly, "Are you sure?"
Aziraphale replied with the same seriousness, "Absolutely sure."
"What has changed since yesterday?"
The bookseller replied quietly, "Something about him makes me want to take the risk."
Muriel looked at him thoughtfully before turning and walking away, "I'm in the mood for a hot chocolate, I'll be back soon!"
"Ok- What?! Muriel, no, don't-"
But only the sound of the shop door closing answered him as he saw his friend cross the street and enter the coffee shop.
Crowley was just putting the clean dishes away when he heard the coffee shop door open. Nina was checking the inventory in the back room, so he turned to the counter and saw a new customer arrive, looking determined as they walked up to the counter.
"Hello, I'd like an extra large hot chocolate, please."
Crowley replied politely, "Very well, I'll bring it right over."
He went to prepare the chocolate and returned a few moments later to the customer who had taken out their purse.
He handed them the hot chocolate and said, "3.25 pounds, please."
The customer grabbed the cup before handing them the money. Just as Crowley took it, they grabbed his wrist and looked him in the eye, saying firmly, "If you hurt him, you'll have me to deal with."
Crowley almost laughed because he was twice their size, but something in the customer's eyes told him they were serious, even if he wasn't sure what they were talking about.
He just nodded and watched in amazement as they left the coffee shop and crossed the street before entering the bookshop.
"Well, you just met Muriel."
"Muriel? Aziraphale's co-worker?" Crowley looked back at Nina, who nodded and then laughed at his bewildered expression.
Crowley thought the people on this street were completely mad, but somehow he was really beginning to appreciate their sweet madness.
*********
Much later in the day, about two hours before Crowley was due to arrive, Aziraphale began to wonder what had possessed him to invite the barista like that. What would they talk about? It had been so long since he'd done that. What if the other man found him boring? What if he had misread the signs?
"It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves."
The words his grandfather used to repeat to him whenever he doubted came back to Aziraphale's mind, and as he looked at his portrait on the desk, he felt calm return to him and murmured, "Thank you, Grandpa."
Aziraphale took a deep breath and continued his preparations, heading to the kitchen to cook dinner.  He was quite confident in his culinary skills after receiving compliments from members of the small community on Whickber Street who had tasted his cooking more than once.
An hour later, the meal was ready and he looked at the kitchen clock with satisfaction. He had just enough time to shower and make himself reasonably presentable for the evening ahead.
He didn't dwell on the fact that it took him a little longer than usual to choose his outfit, that he combed his hair three times before finally tousling it with his hand, that he put on his best cologne. 
The most important thing was that half an hour later he was ready.
All the preparations didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat when he heard a light knock at the door. It also didn't stop his heartbeat from quickening as he approached the door to open it.
With his hand on the latch, Aziraphale took a deep breath before opening it and saying, in what he hoped was a natural way, "Good evening, Crowley."
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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