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#i am also very bad at fluff apparently
strangerhands · 6 months
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ohmygodddddd i am a fucking genius...👁️ the fic idea i just came up with. the Specific Line i thought up. its such a random idea but its so so cute and sweet and ugh its gonna plague me forever. kinda proud of myself to be honest so lets just hope i can Actually write it soon🧎
#mmm brain isnt always bad sometimes i guess.#its some unapologetic jake fluff btw#bc he deserves it#also i forgot i cant really spend time on tumblr today bc ill be busy again lol so tomorrow it is (hopefully)#but its gonna be a good day bc me and my bestie are going to see love lies bleeding And immaculate together😋😋#and probably get some lunch and maybe ice cream too#excited#have been looking forward to today#and then after today im looking forward to finally crawling back into my little tumblr cave#hopefully i can Actually Read.#and yk. writing would be nice too.#also im goin back on sertraline today and apparently it can be used for ocd too so i will try to see if any of That feels different as well#raaaaaa#still havent fully researched ocd tho🧎ive been procrastinating🧎as i do🧎#anyways goodnight its 5am.#shouldnt have had that 8pm iced capp#i downed that shit fr#ok bye bye love yall#talkin shit#FUCK YES THIS POSTED LIKE ON THE VERY SECOND 5:15 WAS ENDING YESSS#sorry i actually like am distressed when the minute(s) of my posts arent posted on a 0 or 5 or like the same as the previous number#and when it is i feel like actual relief and joy#and when it isnt i contemplate deleting and waiting until the desired minute to post again.#anddd sometimes i actually do.#i also will just wait several minutes to post something when its not the exact minute i want yet#or ill queue it for like. literally a couple minutes in the future.#yeah i have many issues#okay gn thank you for reading if you read🧍🫶#i always either suck my own dick or beat my own ass.#rarely ever is there an in between
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moonlightspencie · 9 months
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tenderly, tragically
Description: Silly, lifelong best-friendship leads to a lot of meaningless teasing. Though, sometimes teasing comes from a place of truth. It’s just that sometimes, those getting teased are the last to know why.
Pairing: Best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, some angst, smut 18+ (p in v, praise kink, whiny james, size kink, first time for both), drinking, its really idiots to lovers
Word Count: 7.8k (just fluff): 9.4k (smut)
A/N: smut is at the end, and there’s a warning before it starts since it’s kind of like an alternate ending/extra bit. if you JUST want fluff, it ends at a good point for that before the smut starts :) ALSO: as with all of my marauders fics, characters are aged up (19-20)
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“Jamie,” I squeal a laugh, chasing after him.
He laughs, continuing to out-run me. The bastard.
“Not my fault you’re slow,” he calls back. “Catch up, love, or you’ll get caught.”
I run harder, jumping on his back when I get close enough. We both knew he’d slowed down to let me get closer, but neither of us bothered to mention it. He laughed, holding onto my legs as they wrapped around his waist, slowing until he was walking.
“You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”
I snort a laugh. “Please. There wasn’t even anybody there.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, finally dropping me from his back, and instead slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“They could have, though.”
“But they didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Besides, Remus, Peter, and Sirius are still actually in the Slytherin dorms. Lousy look-outs we are because of you.”
He chuckles, walking us towards the stairs.
“They’ll be fine,” he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Besides, I doubt even most of the Slytherins would object to a little prank on Snivellus.”
I hum, nodding a little. “I guess. Still. You’re a bad friend.”
“You ran too,” he accused, his brow furrowing. “Don’t go and pin all this on me.”
“You told me to run!”
“You didn’t have to listen!”
I scoff, shaking my head. He gives me an irritated look, but pulls me a little closer under his arm. We get into the common room, and without even asking, he starts ushering me to their dorm room.
“Why?” I ask, knowing he knows what I’m asking.
“Sue me for wanting to spend some time with my life-long friend,” he says, quirking a brow.
I push him away from me, but he doesn’t really let me get far. He opens his door, pushing me in first. I immediately flop onto his bed face-first.
“Not complaining now, are you?” he asks, laying next to me.
“Not my fault your bed is so comfy,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.
I feel the mattress dip, and look up to see him also turned on his stomach, right next to me.
“If you really wanted to get me alone this bad you could’ve asked,” I say with a wink.
He rolls his eyes, but a smile gives him away.
“Please. I know you’re secretly hoping for it, but we both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Me?” I laugh. “As if. What would I do with a quidditch player?”
He scoffs, an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know that I am very desirable, and half of that has to do with the fact I’m the seeker, thank you.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh huh. And what’s the other half?”
“You seen this face?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his lips.
“Unfortunately I have.”
“You’re mean,” he says, a laugh breaking up his attempt to be offended.
He pushes me a bit, but I hardly budge. I laugh at his attempt, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. He perks up, trying harder to fully push me off the bed, now.
“Hey!” I say in protest, fighting back against him.
He laughs, both of us practically fighting as he keeps trying to push me off. I see an opportunity a moment later and take it: I grab onto one of his arms with both of mine.
“Ha!” I say loudly. “Can’t push me off now unless you also fall off.”
He pauses, then an evil smirk comes onto his face. My face drops as I realize what he’s about to do. He scoots over, dropping both of us onto the ground. I squeal as we fall, and I end up taking the brunt of the fall as he lands on top of me.
“You should never threaten me with a good time. You know I can’t resist,” he says, not bothering to alleviate the pressure of his body pinning me down.
I groan. “You suck. I didn’t think you’d actually push both of us off just to get me.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” he replies with a quirked brow.
“Please. I know you better than anyone and you know it.”
He opens his mouth to snark back at me, but the door opens before he gets a chance.
“You two are the worst,” Sirius says, clearly out of breath. Then, he scoffs as more footsteps follow behind him. “And look at this! They ran off on us to… Canoodle on the floor.”
I furrow my brow, pulling a face as I try to see him around James.
“Canoodle?” I repeat in disgust.
James finally starts getting off of me, kneeling on the ground next to me as I start pulling myself up. Remus and Peter give us a look.
“We’re not… canoodling, and you can blame Prongs for us ditching. He’s the one who took off running and told me I had to, too.”
Remus quirks a brow at that as Sirius goes to sit on his bed.
“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Peter pipes up.
“That’s what I told her,” James says, giving me a self-satisfied look.
I make a sour face at him, pushing his arm a little. He pushes me back, and I straighten up. Though, Remus must notice that look on me.
“Don’t you two start up again,” he says, pointedly looking between us. “If I have to watch you two flirt any more I might throw up.”
“We’re not flirting,” James grumbles. “She’s just fun to mess with.”
“Mm. And you’re just easy to win a fight against,” I add.
He looks at me quickly. “You didn’t win the last one.”
“Because you pushed us both off the bed!” I exclaim.
“Oh, shut it, you two,” Sirius says, his arm draped over his face. “We’ve been back for three days and you’re already acting up.”
I snort a laugh at Sirius’s annoyance, climbing back onto James’s bed. I sigh with my face in the pillows, feeling him climb over me to get to the other side a second later.
“You got us in trouble,” he whispers.
“Your fault, not mine,” I reply.
“You’re the one who insulted my perfect face.”
“You’re the one who pushed me first,” I argue back.
“Oi!” Sirius calls out again, leaving us both laughing.
Our first few weeks of school go off without a hitch. The boys continue pulling their little pranks, occasionally dragging me along with them. I settle into my space this year, glad to still have Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas as my roommates. We always tended to get along quite well.
I start reading a new book one night, absolutely enraptured with the story, probably even more so considering it’s helping me to avoid the homework that I really should be doing. I get through the first couple chapters before I notice Lily staring at me.
“What is it, Lils?”
“Can I tell you something?” Lily asks suddenly.
She looks around the room, seemingly to make sure the other girls are really gone for whatever she’s about to say.
I look at her over my book. “Sure.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
I nod. “Promise.”
She sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I have a thing for someone… Well, for James.”
My eyes widen. “Really? You wanted nothing to do with him a little while ago.”
“I know. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bored or something, but I’ve been thinking about telling him.”
I nod. “Yeah. You should.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“Why not?”
She smiles to herself. “Yeah. Why not? Do you think he’ll say it back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? He did have a crush on you before.”
She hums to herself. I laugh a little, shaking my head.
“I think I’ll do it tomorrow. Better to do it sooner than later, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug noncommittally. I really just wanted to get back to my book.
“You don’t even care,” she groans after a moment.
“This is a really good book, Lils,” I laugh.
“Fine. I’ll stop bothering you.”
“Thanks,” I smirk to myself.
She scoffs again, though I know she isn’t really offended. I wish her good luck as we head off to our classes that day, knowing she was planning on telling James sometime in the morning.
I end up finding him later, though I try not to press for answers the second I do. We sit on the grass in the late afternoon, watching some first years play a little quidditch match for fun. It’s uncharacteristically warm outside, and the sun shines down on us. After half an hour of watching the kids play, I glance at James.
“I wanna show you something,” I say suddenly, standing.
James looks up at me in confusion. “I’d prefer not to move.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s a nice day. Sunny and no clouds. Please, just follow me?” I ask, almost whining. “Promise you’ll like it.”
He leans back on his hands. “How do you know?”
“Because I found a secret place in the woods, and you’ll be the first person besides me to see it,” I offer.
He quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now get up.”
He grumbles to himself as he gets up, following me as we walk towards the woods. I start leading him through the trees towards the destination I had in mind.
“What were you even doing in here? It’s dangerous,” he says quietly.
“I was fine. Just had a long day and wanted to explore. It was in the daytime anyway,” I say matter-of-factly.
He hums to himself, clearly dissatisfied that I went out here by myself. But as I finally lead him to our destination, his annoyance wears off.
“Whoa,” he says, his eyes a little wide.
I smile. “See? Told you it would be worth your while.”
He looks on at the small clearing. There’s a little pond with clear water, the space in the trees allowing some sunlight to reflect on the water. It looks peaceful at least, and nearly-heavenly at best. I look at him expectantly.
“How’d you find this?” he asks, squatting by the water. He dips his hand it. “Whoa. It’s warm.”
I nod, still standing. “I found it when I was exploring, like I said. A few weeks ago. I charmed the water to stay warm, so I’ve been out here two or three times to swim. Thought I’d show you before it gets too cold.”
He smiles, standing up. “You want to go swimming? You didn’t bring any—”
His eyes widen as he finally looks at me. At this point, I’ve already started taking off my robes and my shirt.
“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You act like you’ve never been around me getting dressed. We’ve been friends since we were like six years old. Now, hurry up. Faster you get undressed, the faster we get to swim.”
He rolls his eyes at me, begrudgingly taking off his clothes, even though part of him still looks excited that I’d found such a nice little place.
I start wading in once I’m down to my underwear, the water feeling nice and warm in contrast to the slightly-cool air. I hear him come in after me in a moment, and turn to watch him.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Can’t believe you were hiding this from me,” he says, hiding a smirk.
“Oh, please,” I reply, floating on my back in the water. “You’re lucky I showed you at all. Nobody else knows about this. You should feel honored.”
I hear him hum and splash around a little, though my eyes are closed. I bask in the warmth of the sunlight on my face.
“Did Lils talk to you today?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah.”
I upright myself, looking at him as he aimlessly walks around in the water.
“And?”
He glances at me, giving a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I press, furrowing my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you guys talk about?”
“I have a feeling you already know,” he snorts a laugh.
I roll my eyes, wading closer to him. “So she told you?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what happened? What did you say?”
He sighs dramatically. “Does it matter?”
I splash him a little. “I’m gonna hear about it no matter what. She’s my roommate. Just wanted to know from you before I see Lily later.”
“Told her I wasn’t interested,” he says quietly, splashing me back a little.
I pause. “Why? You always had a massive crush on her.”
“Not in, like, a year,” he says.
“So you just rejected her?”
“I didn’t reject her,” he furrows his brows, looking away from me. “She told me she liked me, and I just told her I wasn’t into her like that. She didn’t ask me a question, so it wasn’t a rejection. Just being honest.”
I groan. “Jamie, she’s going to kill me. I’m the one who encouraged her to tell you.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I thought you liked her!”
He pauses for a moment, then splashes me again, this time fully soaking me. I scoff a laugh, in shock as the water hits me. I glare at him, then splash him back just as hard. He starts going on the attack, practically throwing the water at me repeatedly.
“You absolute tosser,” I say, continuing to splash back, though I can’t help but laugh.
I start backing up as we both continue, now laughing and barely able to see with how rapid-fire we’re going. Eventually, I turn and start running for the shore as much as I can while being chest-deep in water. I squeal as I hear him closing in on me.
“No, no, no,” I laugh, getting closer and closer to safety.
“Should’ve thought about trying to run a little harder, love,” James says back, still giggling to himself.
He catches up to me when the water is finally below my hips, and grabs around the waist, pulling both of us backwards. The water goes over our heads for a moment, and I gasp out a laugh as we emerge again. He sits us up in the pond.
I turn in his arms, smacking him lightly on the chest. “You’re awful!”
“You love me,” he smiles brightly, still sitting on the ground in the shallow water. He pulls me in a little closer. “You’re just mad that I won.”
“Still can’t believe you said you didn’t like her,” I say, brushing some of his wet curls away from his eyes.
“Not gonna lie to the girl,” he shrugs, swatting away my hand.
“Still. I thought for sure you’d be excited.”
“Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a couple years ago, but not anymore.”
“At this point I’m convinced you’re driving girls away on purpose. When was the last time you dated someone?” I laugh.
He looks at me, mockingly offended. “Excuse me?”
“What?” I exclaim, still laughing. “Last girl I remember seeing you with was some Ravenclaw a few quidditch wins ago, and even then, you were just sucking face because you were drunk.”
He finally pushes me away from him, trying to hide a smile. I chuckle, gaining my bearings, and finally landing comfortably on my knees in the water a foot away from him.
“You wouldn’t be so offended if I were wrong,” I tease.
“Yeah? And when’s the last time you dated somebody?”
I scoff. “You scare off every boy who tries to ask me out.”
“Cause they’re all ridiculous,” he states, making a face. “Are you seriously telling me you wanted to go out with that Johnny kid from Hufflepuff?”
I smirk. “Touché. But still, it’s not my fault I’m not dating anyone. You, on the other hand…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he quirks a brow.
“You’ve got all kinds of girls chasing after you. What’s your excuse?”
He pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Who else would waste all their time with you if I were too busy with some girl? You’d be all alone. I’m doing you a service by staying single.”
“Please. You and that ego, I swear,” I shake my head. “I have plenty of friends outside of you.”
“I’m the best one, though,” he says, a brow raised with a cocky smile.
I make a face, then splash him once more for good measure.
“That’s it,” he mumbles, tackling me.
I yell a little with a laugh as his arm wraps around my back and drops me onto the bank where the water was scarce. I keep my head propped up as much as I can, though the rest of me is still covered in a little bit of water. It doesn’t help that James is pressing me into the ground.
“Admit it. I am the single greatest person you’ve ever met.”
I laugh again. “In your dreams.”
“Not letting you up until you admit it.”
“Guess we’re stuck here forever, then,” I argue back.
“Guess so,” he says plainly, dropping his full weight on me. I groan, my breath getting squeezed from me. “Best to make myself comfortable, then.”
“You’re so heavy,” I whine.
He chuckles, just quietly observing me for a moment. I tilt my head in question as he doesn’t snark back. He swallows, a small smile still on his face, but a little bit of color now in his cheeks. My eyes widen a little bit.
“Jamie—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to get anything else out, his lips pressing to mine softly. I freeze, in shock at the sudden change of circumstance. My best friend is kissing me. He stays there for a moment, and only pulls away when he realizes I wasn’t kissing him back, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” he shakes his head, looking at me with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
He gets off of me quickly, getting out of the pond and back to where we left our clothes. He casts a drying spell on himself and starts getting dressed. Meanwhile, I’m still in the water, feeling like I’m stuck. I swallow with a dry throat, turning to see him starting to pull on his pants. I finally get up, quickly moving towards him.
“Jamie—“
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he shakes his head, not looking at me.
I let out a frustrated groan. “We have to talk about that, James.”
“Not right now. Just,” he sighs, looking at me quickly. He takes out his wand again, casting that same drying spell on me. “Get dressed. We don’t want to miss dinner.”
I stare at him for a moment as he continues putting his clothes on, then finally move to get mine on. We finish getting dressed in an uncomfortable silence, that kiss playing on repeat in my mind. Why would he do that?
I look at him when I’m done to see him staring at his shoes, his hands shoved in his pockets. I walk nearer to him, though he takes half a step back when he notices. I furrow my brow.
“Don’t start that.”
“Start what?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“Pulling away from me,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m not going to lose you as a friend all because you—”
“I’m not pulling away from you,” he rolls his eyes. “I just— I don’t want to… I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He scoffs. “Right, because there’s nothing embarrassing about trying to kiss your best friend while she looks at you like you’re crazy.”
I sigh. “I just didn’t know what was happening. You’ve never done anything like that before.”
He looks away, chewing at his lip. “Can we just forget about it? I really don’t… I didn’t mean to.”
I fall quiet for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts, but they’re all seeming to escape me. I let go of his arm, taking in a deep breath.
“You know I love you, right?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I know.”
“Okay. Yeah, we can forget about it,” I nod. “You want to go get dinner, then? I heard a rumor they’ll have those apple tarts you like.”
He looks at me, smiling a little bit. “Yeah?”
I nod again, smiling back. “Would I lie?”
He chuckles a little, nodding towards the way we came into the woods. I start leading the way back out until we see the castle again. He catches up to me at that point.
“Sorry again,” he says quietly.
“About what?” I ask, raising a brow. “All I remember is us swimming around. Unless you’re apologizing for tackling me in the pond, in which case, you’re forgiven only if you get me some chocolate frogs next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”
He smiles a little. “Yeah. Promise I will.”
“Good,” I say, knocking into his shoulder a little.
He nudges me back. Of course. I go a little harder the next time I knock into him, until we’re both practically pushing one another over as we head towards the castle. He gives me a particularly hard shove, barely catching me by the arm before I actually fall to the ground. We’re out of breath from laughing when we finally get to the castle, feeling wonderfully back to normal by the time we reach the Great Hall.
We walk up to the marauders, taking our usual seat across from the three boys.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Where were you two for the past hour?” Sirius asks with a quirked brow.
I snort a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would, considering we saw you wander off into the forest,” he says, leaning forward on his arms with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “None of your business.”
“Always so secretive,” Remus says, stabbing a few potatoes on his fork before looking between us.
I glance at James who laughs as soon as we make eye contact. Though, I also catch another pair of eyes when I turn towards him, and wince a little. Lily looks at me with her brows furrowed from a little ways down the table. I shrug at her, unsure why she looks upset with me. She rolls her eyes, going back to her conversation with Dorcas. I sigh.
“Great. Now Lily’s mad at me because you had to go and turn her down,” I say to James.
Peter laughs. “He turned her down?”
“When did this happen?” Remus asks, looking much more curious now.
“You need to learn how to shut it,” James says to me, his voice a little high as he shakes his head.
“They would’ve found out anyways,” I say, barely feeling sorry at all.
I hold back from chuckling as James is pelted with questions from the boys, focusing more on my food and trying to ignore the occasional sour glance I get from Lily.
Though, I couldn’t escape her forever.
I walked into my room after a night of sitting around with the boys and Marlene in the common room. I thought I would be going to bed and falling asleep, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Lily stared at me from her bed as Marlene and I shut the door behind us.
I raised a brow. “Hi?”
Marlene looked between us, excusing herself to take a shower. The traitor.
“What the hell?” Lily said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, what the hell? Why have you been giving me sour looks all day?”
She scoffed. “You told me to tell him, and you know what he did? Oh. Wait, of course you know. Because of course he already told you. Because of course—”
“Oh my god, Lily,” I roll my eyes, going to sit on my bed next to hers. “I’m sorry that I was wrong about how he’d react, but I had no clue. I thought he still had a thing for you.”
She huffs a sigh. “I should’ve known you were setting me up. What, do you like to see me embarrassed?”
“If I did, I would’ve gone along to watch it happen,” I say, annoyed at her attitude. “Sorry I was wrong, but I didn’t know. And you said you wanted to tell him, anyways.”
“You don’t seem to be that sorry considering you were back to hanging around him again all day.”
“He’s my best friend, Lily. I’m not going to ditch him because he didn’t have feelings for you,” I say, shaking my head.
She stands up suddenly. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe if you weren’t like… In love with him, you’d be a better friend to me.”
I stare at her in annoyance. “You need to get a grip. I wouldn’t have encouraged you to try telling him if I was ‘in love’ with him. We’re friends. You’re being insane.”
“Well, clearly he at least has feelings for you!”
I furrow my brow. “Excuse me?”
“Why else would he reject me?”
I laugh against my better judgement. “Are you serious? One boy doesn’t like you, so it just has to be because he’s in love with someone else? Lily, I love you, but that is the most egotistical thing you’ve ever said.”
“But you’re not denying it.”
“James isn’t in love with me. Have you considered that he just doesn’t like you anymore? It happens. People move on,” I say, sighing. “Just… Go to bed, Lily. This is a ridiculous and pointless argument.”
I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes while I wait to get into the bathroom. I hear Lily mutter something under her breath, but choose to ignore it. The more she got angry with me, the less I cared that she got her feelings hurt. I didn’t want to be unsympathetic, but it was getting hard to be concerned when I was blamed for a boy not liking her. Obviously James didn’t like me.
Obviously.
I think.
He did kiss me.
I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment. James didn’t like me, did he? He’d never shown interest in me before. That kiss probably just happened because he was confused. He wanted to forget about it, anyways, so clearly that had to mean he didn’t mean it. And I didn’t feel that way about him anyways, so it didn’t matter.
Except, I did feel my heart pound a little differently when he looked at me before the kiss.
I didn’t hate the way his lips felt.
Seeing him smile at me on the walk back did give me a few butterflies.
But, no. That’s nothing. He’s my best friend, I wouldn’t suddenly start feeling that way about him. I couldn’t. It’d be ridiculous.
It’s not like I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Except that I did. A lot.
I woke up the next morning, feeling like I was going insane. I’d never felt that way about him before. Of course, I always though he was attractive. How could anybody look at him and not think he was gorgeous? But there was never anything more besides friendship. So why could I not stop thinking about him?
My eyes feel heavy as I sit in my last class of the day, James trying repeatedly to mess with me throughout the class. With five minutes left, he leans in closer. Since when did he start smelling so good?
“Hey,” he says quietly, drawing my attention. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting mad at me.”
“Just tired, Jamie,” I shrug, staring at the notes on the chalkboard that I haven’t copied down.
“That’s a lie. I can tell.”
I sigh. “Have you ever… Has anyone ever told you something about yourself that you thought wasn’t true, and then… And then you realize they might be right?”
He furrows his brows. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Like, let’s say someone tells you that you like strawberries, when you’ve never liked strawberries. But then you think about every time you’ve had a strawberry, and you realize that you actually really did like strawberries. A lot more than you thought you did. Like… you realize strawberries are your favorite fruit.”
He stares with a confused look, tilting his head. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
“Are you feeling alright?”
I lean away from him, rolling my eyes. “Cut it out.”
He smiles, nudging me slightly. “Can’t say I’ve had that experience, no.”
I groan. “This sucks.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what actually happened?” he asks. He pouts. “Please?”
I smile at him, trying hard to be annoyed, but finding it difficult. God, I’m in trouble.
“I just can’t. It’s… private.”
“You never keep secrets from me.”
“I don’t even know what secret I’m keeping just yet,” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Aw,” he coos. “You say that like you aren’t already.”
I push him, laughing softly, though we both straighten up when the professor reprimands us. We give a quick apology, still smirking at each other the next time we catch one another’s eye.
The next days pass by in a blur as I come to terms with what I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t talk to anyone, especially since Lily was still mad at me. Now, though, I couldn’t blame her as much. She somehow realized I was into him before I did.
“Hey,” Remus says, coming up to me as I sit in the common room. “It’s late. Why are you still here?”
“Why are you?”
He shrugs, sitting next to me. “Can’t sleep. Moon’s coming in a couple days.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “Gotcha.”
He settles into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks sideways at me as I stare into the fire.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Cause I can’t tell anybody.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve been off for days. James keeps complaining about how you’re not spending time with him as much.”
I shake my head, not responding.
“You need to talk to someone about this.”
“Can’t.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at him. “Seriously. I can’t talk to Jamie about it, Lily’s still mad at me, and Marls and Dorcas are too gossipy.”
“You can talk to me,” he shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, though.”
“Try me.”
I let out a breath. “You have to promise this stays a secret.”
He nods. “Promise.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath. “Okay. So, um, Lily got really mad at me the other day because of the whole…. Confession thing. And I didn’t understand why, and she started accusing me of things, and obviously I disagreed… But then something she said kind of stuck with me.”
“She’s just mad. Don’t listen to her,” Remus says, shaking his head. “You know how she gets when she’s in one of those moods.”
“But I think she was kind of right,” I sigh. “That’s the problem. She thinks… She told me she thought I was into James. And not like friends, like really into him.”
Remus’s eyes widen a little. “And… are you?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for the past week, and… I think I might be.”
“Whoa. I know we always tease you two for how close you are, but I never thought you…”
“I know,” I groan, my face in my hands. “And I know I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as usual because of it, but I don’t know what to do. How do you tell your best friend that you suddenly realized you’re in love with him?”
He doesn’t answer, just reaches over and gives me a hug. I accept it, sighing a little.
Our next week goes over just like that. I don’t avoid James by any means, but I try not to always be alone with him. I do find more opportunities to talk with Remus about it all, though, and it helps. Just to have someone to listen to me as I complain about my feelings. I do the same for him when he has troubles, though mine seem silly in comparison. He always tells me not to compare, though.
Unfortunately, though, as much as those chats help me process my feelings, they don’t help me get over those feelings at all. If anything, they only grow the more I think about James.
It’s super annoying.
Even more annoying is Lily’s smug look when I tell her about my feelings for James. I expected her to be mad at me, but she did something worse: she laughed at me.
“I knew it!”
“How? I didn’t know!”
“Because you are so obvious,” she shakes her head.
I scoff. “I’m clearly not that obvious or else you wouldn’t have told me you had a crush on him.”
“Alright. Fair enough,” she quirks a brow. “But still.”
I roll my eyes, walking over to hug her.
“Sorry about that. If I knew I had a crush on him I wouldn’t have told you to go for him.”
“Sorry back,” she says. “Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that he told me no.”
“I agree,” I laugh.
She whacks me in the arm, laughing back.
I try to go about my life as usual over the next couple of weeks. There’s no sense in making myself miserable or drawing attention to my small shift in behavior. I find myself still doing most of the same things I always did. Just a bit more carefully.
I sit with the boys at dinner, laughing at their stupid jokes and the plans they have for pranks. I finish my food, pushing the plate away from me, and listening in on a conversation being had between Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
“You know, those three plan on being out all night,” James says quietly, leaning close to me as he watches the three boys talk.
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Doing what?”
“They wanted to just be out of the castle for the night. Think Sirius and Remus are going to the shrieking shack, and Peter is sneaking out to go meet up with some other friends in Hogsmeade, I guess.”
“And you aren’t running off?”
He shakes his head. “Told them I’d stay behind. Thought me and you could have a sleepover. Like old times.”
I chuckle. “It has been a while.”
“I think close to a year. They’re always in my space,” he says, feigning annoyance. “But it’ll just be us tonight, if you want.”
I push down whatever feeling rises in my chest at that and agree, despite my better judgement.
He pulls me into his room that night, immediately going to the foot of his bed, looking at me like he’s about to change my life.
“I brought something a little… fun,” he smiles, opening up his trunk to show me his secret stash of drinks. “Thought we might finally crack it open.”
I laugh. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“Hey, we’ve had plenty at the Gryffindor events,” he smiles. “This is just for us. Our secret.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m the greatest.”
We find ourselves on his floor after a few drinks, feeling fuzzy and happy. We talk about nothing for hours, occasionally passing a bottle between us.
“Maybe we should do this more often,” he says, smiling up at the ceiling. “I miss spending time with you like this.”
“We’re always together.”
“You spend a lot of time with Moony lately. Not fair, I want you all to myself,” he chuckles, poking my side.
I laugh, poking him back. “I’m still all yours. Love Moony so much, but you’re still my favorite I think. Now, if Sirius decided to start hanging around me more, then you’d be in trouble.”
He giggles, his cheeks rosy. I watch him carefully, feeling warm in the face myself, but for a different reason.
“You have a really cute laugh,” I say before I can think about it.
He looks at me with a smile, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“You’ve never told me that before.”
I shrug. “I should’ve.”
He stares back at me for a moment, giving me a little silly smile. He leans over me, propping himself up with his forehead next to my head. He leans down, much like he did that day we went swimming. But this time I kiss him back. My hand finds his cheek, holding him gently as I let him work his lips against mine. I can’t deny the warmth that spreads over me or the butterflies I feel this time.
This time it lasts for a few minutes, neither of us bothering to pull away. Whether that’s because he actually likes it or because we’re both drunk and don’t know any better, I don’t know. I also don’t care.
He finally pulls away after a little while, still giving me that smile as if he didn’t just take all the air in my lungs away from me.
“We can pretend that one didn’t happen, either,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, unsure what to say. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I couldn’t tell him that without outing myself. I settle for the way his hand mindlessly reaches for mine as we go back into conversation like nothing ever interrupted us in the first place. Eventually, we move to his bed, preferring the softness of the mattress and pillows over the hard ground.
“Can I ask why you’ve been spending all your time with Remus?” he asks during a lull in the conversation, playing with my fingers as he does.
“Just became better friends recently, I guess,” I say, glancing at him. I admire his face for a moment before snapping out of it. “Some stuff I can talk to him about that I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. It’s been nice to have someone to listen.”
“I could do that for you. You didn’t have to go to him.”
“Not this time, Jamie. It’s… different.”
“How?”
“It just is,” I sigh. “I’ve had too much to drink for us to be having this conversation, James.”
He whines. “Please? I just want to know.”
“No. Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not now.”
He grumbles, turning over and resting his head on my chest. His arm rests over my stomach. I just hope and pray he doesn’t feel how hard my heart starts beating when he does.
“Play with my hair?” he asks, his voice a little muffled.
“Okay,” I reply softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “This okay?”
He nods a little. “Mhm. Thanks.”
We don’t wake up until the next morning, still stuck in that same position.
I find myself with Remus again the following night. I sit on a chair, and he lounges on the couch, trying not to judge me for putting myself in that situation. I don’t tell him about the kiss, but he hears about everything else.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he says after a beat of silence when I finish explaining. “You either need to tell him, or put some distance between you.”
“I tried that today.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s all James could talk about. Complaining the whole day that you weren’t eating with us or not going to the library when we were.”
“See? I feel like nothing I do is right in this situation,” I say, feeling defeated. “Like, how am I supposed to keep spending time with him like everything’s normal when I’m practically floating every time he so much as looks at me. It’s pathetic. And I can’t just ignore him, cause then he goes and bugs you all.”
“Maybe you just need to—”
“Hey,” James’s voice calls from behind us.
I look at him, noticing the annoyed look on his face. It doesn’t seem like he’s overheard us, but I can’t tell why he looks so irritated. Usually he’d be annoyed if I didn’t bother with them all day, but he looks… mad. I quirk a brow.
“Hey,” I say, confused.
He doesn’t reply, looking a little upset and a little lost. I turn back to Remus after a moment of silence, our conversation effectively being cut short. I stand up quickly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Remus, starting to walk past James in order to get to my room.
“What’s going on?” James asks, grabbing my upper arm.
I turn around quickly. “What?”
He clenches his jaw, then looks at Remus. “Moony, we need a minute.”
Remus goes to argue, but drops it quickly when he sees James looking more serious than he ever has. He gets up, giving me a sympathetic look before he heads towards the boys’ dorms. I glare at James as he hasn’t let go of my arm yet.
“Why did you do that?”
“Why are you with him again?”
I scoff. “You mean our friend? Did you ever think maybe we were talking?”
“That’s the problem,” he says, dropping my arm.
“How is that a problem? I’m going through something and he’s just trying to help—”
He sighs harshly, looking around like he’s lost. He looks back at me with his brows furrowed.
“I don’t get it,” he says, practically whining. “You never keep things from me, and now you’re telling Moony all of your secrets and ditching me for him and… And I don’t understand it. We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“We are, Jamie, there’s just some things that I can’t—”
“Why not?” he swallows, tears starting to prick his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me? You never do this. We tell each other everything.”
I freeze for a moment, my mouth drying up as I look at him. I want to reach out for him and hold him and make him feel better. But I also want answers, because it’s his fault that everything got screwed up. He didn’t have to reject Lily. He didn’t have to kiss me when we were swimming. He didn’t have to do it again on his bedroom floor. He didn’t have to treat me like I was the most important person in his life.
“Then tell me why you kissed me,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out! You don’t just get to kiss me and then act like you just did it for no reason.”
His chest heaved from his breathing, staring at me. His cheeks tinged pink again as he took a moment.
“I—I just wanted to. I don’t know. You were there and you were looking at me like that and you just…” he huffed a sigh. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?” I asked, frustrated.
“Because,” he said back, his tone matching mine. “Because I always want to kiss you and I slipped up and did it one time—”
“You did it twice!”
“Okay! Two times,” he exclaims. “We promised we would just forget about it.”
“And what exactly is that even supposed to mean?”
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “God, what do I have to do to make you understand that I’m—”
I wait as he stops talking. “That you’re what?”
“I’m in love with you. I have been forever, and you’ve never cared,” he says, letting out a shuddering breath. “And now you’re spending all of your time with Remus. And it’s so embarrassing that I’m sat here hopelessly in love with my best friend of over ten years while she’s running around with another one of our friends.”
“Running around with him? We sit in the common room and talk because you’re fucking infuriating!”
“Oh, so you’re gossiping about me?” he asks, voice raising as mine does once again.
“Not gossiping, just—”
“Just what?”
“I’m in love with you, too, you fucking tosser!”
He looks angry for a few moments, then it switches to confusion, then shock, and possibly the five stages of grief before he finally lands on raised brows and an open mouth.
“You what?” he exclaims.
“You’re so annoying,” I say, groaning. “Yeah, Lily had to go and tell me I was in love with you, and she always has to be fucking right about everything, doesn’t she?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” he asks incredulously, furrowing his brows. “You just told me you loved me.”
“I’m aware, James,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Well… Did you mean it?”
“Obviously,” I say, shaking my head at him like it was a dumb question.
“You’re so dumb,” he says under his breath.
Before I can say anything else, he’s moving forward, his hands on my cheeks as he crashes his lips into mine. I melt into him, this kiss being way more passionate than the one we shared the night before. I hold onto his waist, letting him deepen the kiss, though it only lasts for a minute or two after that.
He pulls away. “You’re infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You didn’t tell me anything, either!”
“I kissed you twice!”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count. You said we should forget about both times.”
“Only cause I thought that’s what you’d want,” he defends, making an annoyed face.
I try to be angry, but it’s a difficult task. I reach up, running a thumb over his furrowed eyebrows.
“So grumpy,” I mutter. “Just told you I was in love with you. You’d think you’d at least try to be happy.”
He scoffs a laugh, pulling me into a hug, his face buried in my neck.
“I’ve never been happier.”
We hear footsteps coming down a few moments later.
“You owe me ten galleons,” Sirius’s voice says.
I look over James’s shoulder as he keeps holding onto me, not caring that our friends are right there.
“You were betting on us?” I ask.
Sirius nods with a smirk. “And Peter just lost. He thought you’d take until the end of the year to get together. I said it’d be in this term.”
“I didn’t bet,” Remus says from behind Sirius, holding his hands up in surrender with a small smile. “Glad you worked it out, though.”
I smile at them, shaking my head and turning my attention back on James again. He looks at me finally.
“I’m glad, too,” he says quietly. “Think I might’ve combusted if I had to keep pretending I didn’t want you like that.”
“Didn’t do a great job at covering for it, though. Still kissed me twice.”
“You say like you didn’t love it,” he smirks with a wink.
————-> SMUT STARTS HERE. 18+ <-————
James finally pulls away, taking my hand in his.
“Good, now that you’re all out the room, if you’ll excuse us…” he says, pulling me past the boys who all groan in disgust.
I giggle as he practically runs to his room with my hand in his, kissing me the second the door is shut and locked. I smile into the kiss, my arms around his neck. He starts kissing my cheek and jaw after a few minutes.
“Hope you’ve been feeling the tension as much as I have, cause I could probably cum in my pants right now if you asked me to,” he says casually, as if it wouldn’t send a wave of arousal down my body.
“Oh my…” I trail off as he bites at my neck softly. “Are we gonna…?”
He pauses, his eyes wide. “Oh. I probably should’ve asked before I assumed, huh?”
He winces a little at his own excitement, cheeks tinged pink.
“Sorry.”
I smile softly. “That’s okay. I— I want to, I just didn’t know if that’s what the plan was.”
He smiles again brightly, kissing me once more. He giggled against my lips, then starts backing me towards the bed.
“I really do love you. Kind of embarrassing, really. I think I have forever,” he says softly, laying me down on the mattress and crawling over me.
I let out a soft breath. “Embarrassing for me, I think. I didn’t even realize until someone else told me I did.”
He laughs again, starting to kiss down my neck.
“I kind of always wanted you to be my first time, to be honest,” he says against my skin.
I pause, realizing what’s really happening. “Oh. Oh my god.”
“What?” he asks, leaning up to start unbuttoning my shirt.
“Wait, have you never… You haven’t done this either, have you?”
“Not all the way,” he shakes his head, then looks at me with wide eyes. “Is that okay?”
“That’s okay. I haven’t either. Just… You know. I’ve done some hand stuff but that was it.”
He looks at me again, then starts laughing a little. I find myself laughing right back as reality sets in for both of us.
“We’re gonna take each others virginity,” I say, still laughing a little. “Oh my god.”
He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t wake up this morning thinking this would happen, that’s for certain.”
I smile. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he teases, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.
I watch as he finishes taking off my shirt, getting up just enough to help him pull it and my camisole off completely. He sits back on his knees, staring at me for a moment.
“You alright, Jamie?”
He nods. “Doing great, love.”
He starts taking off his own shirt, then. As many times as I’d seen his arms and chest, you’d think I wouldn’t still feel amazed seeing him in just his trousers… But I couldn’t stop staring, either. He leaned back in, kissing me again. I let my hands run over his arms and back, having free reign to do so and enjoying it. He nipped at my lip, a little noise leaving me and making him smile against my lips. I do the same to him, both of us ending up grinning at each other again.
“This is nice,” I say quietly. “Doing this with you, it’s nice. I like that we don’t feel like we have to act… sexy.”
“Well, that because it’s never an act for me, love,” he winks with a smirk.
I pull him back down with a giggle, though the smile is wiped from my face when he rolls his hips into mine. Feeling him hard for me for the first time leaves me a little breathless, especially when he’s grinding into me. I small groan leaves me when he does it again.
“Like it when you do that,” he says into my ear, doing it again just to get another reaction out of me. “I like those little sounds you make. So pretty.”
I find myself breathing heavily, my hands squeezing between our bodies to start unbuckling his belt. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling it off himself.
“Get out of those, yeah?” he says, nodding at my bottoms as he works himself out of his.
I comply immediately, shimmying out of my trousers and tossing them onto the ground. He gets back on top of me as soon as we’re both one layers closer to what we really want. I let my hand slide into his underwear as he stars kissing at my neck again, letting out a shuddering breath when I finally feel him. He whimpers into my neck as I start stroking him, rutting his hips into my hand.
“Feel so good, love,” he says, voice whiny and desperate.
I groan back, especially as one of his hands slides under the band of my panties to slip a finger into me. I feel myself growing hotter, kissing him and swallowing the moans he lets out as my hand keeps working him over.
“Shit, Jamie,” I moan as he adds a second finger.
“Good for you?” he breathes out.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes. Very.”
I whine as he gets me closer to the edge, his hips doing all the work as my hand stopped moving up and down his length. He adds pressure to my clit with his thumb, sending me careening over the edge with praises and his name on my lips.
He pulls his hand away from me suddenly.
“Can’t wait any longer, love,” he says, voice wrecked.
He slides my panties off my legs as I take my bra off. Then, I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his underwear off, his cock bigger than I was expecting by far. I knew he felt big, but seeing him was entirely different.
“Fuck,” I say, staring at him. “Don’t know if I can take that, Jamie.”
“Yeah, you can, love,” he nods, settling between my legs and kissing me softly. “You can take it, baby.”
He pushes himself up just enough for both of us to see him rubbing his head through my slick before prodding at my entrance. He starts pushing in slowly. I let out a loud groan, my eyes shutting.
“Shh, just relax, love,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “You’re doing so good. Taking it so well, baby.”
He whimpers against my lips as he keeps pushing in slowly.
“So big, Jamie,” I moan, watching him disappear inside of me.
“I know, baby,” he says, a few more little noises spilling from his mouth. “I know, but you’re being so good. My good girl.”
He bottoms out, both of us panting and holding onto each other as I adjust to the new feeling. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Especially when he starts moving. That bit of pain makes way for a lot of pleasure once he starts rocking into me at a steady pace, whining and moaning into my ear.
“S’good, Jamie. You feel so good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“So good for me, baby. Squeezing me nice,” he whines, pinning me down under the weight of his body. “Good girl. So proud of you taking me so well.”
“Gonna cum again,” I say, feeling it building in my stomach again.
“Me too, baby. Just a little more,” he says, pressing his face into my neck again. “Don’t want to be done so soon, but you feel so perfect. You’re so good for me.”
I moan at his ramblings of praise, his words only causing me to get closer to that peak again. I hold onto him tightly, my body wrapped around his as he fucks into me like we’d done it a million times before. I speak his name over and over and over again as I crash down, my eyes rolling back from the intensity of the orgasm, and the fact that he doesn’t stop fucking me through it.
Though, near the end of my peak, he moans out a hundred more praises, my name falling from his lips as I feel him fill me up with his cum. He whimpers again against my skin as he finishes, not stopping the movement of his hips until he’s visibility overstimulated.
We breathe heavily, holding onto one another tightly as we come down from our highs, his hair sticking to his forehead as he leans in to kiss me softly again.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “You’re perfect.”
I breathe out, a small smile on my face. “You… Yeah. Oh my god. I thought the first time was supposed to be bad.”
“It was perfect for me. But I barely lasted, it couldn’t have been that great for you,” he says, looking a little disappointed that he might not have done a good job for me.
I shake my head. “You still made me come harder than I ever have. You were incredible, Jamie. I mean it.”
He smiles softly. “I’m gonna have to kick them out of here more often. I might be addicted now.”
“And we have more things to try,” I add. “Can’t let this happen only once a week or something. Too much to figure out, I think.”
He giggles again. “Like what?”
“I’d really like you in my mouth next time.”
His smile drops. He starts nodding quickly. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll kick them out at two in the morning if you ask. Whatever you want.”
I laugh, pulling him into another kiss.
“Now, we have to figure out that contraceptive spell, or else we might be in some trouble,” I say with a smile.
“Sorry about that,” he smirks, clearly not sorry. “I’m sure Sirius knows it.”
“Please. As if he isn’t fucking Remus whenever those two run off to the shrieking shack.”
James’s eyes widen. “What?”
I snort a laugh.
“And you called me the oblivious one.”
4K notes · View notes
ocinstar · 17 days
Text
Like a cake
Spencer x afab!reader
Summary: Spencer accidentally eats a special brownie and gets baked for the first time, making him reveal some things.
Cw: drug use (devils lettuce), fluff, use of y/n
A/n: cooked this up at 3 am while watching that scene in the perks of being a wallflower where charlie gets high and thought high spencer would be hilarious 😭
Also this is not proof read, so if u see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't 😇
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"Do I really have to go to this thing?" Spencer asked Derek from his seat beside me.
Derek had gotten an invite to a house party by some of his friends and had insisted on us coming along with him. Emily and I were pretty quick to accept the invitation, but it took a lot of convincing to get boy wonder to agree to join us. He only agreed after I promised to lend him my copy The Undertaker in the original Russian print.
"Yes, you do." Morgan answered with a breathy chuckle. Spencer sighed and sunk lower in his seat. I sort of felt bad now for pushing him to come, especially since I know he's uncomfortable with things like this. But that's also exactly why I pushed him, to get him out of his comfort zone a bit and have the chance to talk with people in a low stress environment. Derek had said the party wasn't supposed to be to big, just a few friends. Which of whom were all going to be intoxicated, therefore easier to talk to since drunk people tend to be less judgmental than sober people.
"Don't worry, spence. It'll be fun." I gave him a reassuring smile. He let out another sigh that let me know he didn't really believe me.
"Yeah, Reid. It'll be fun." Emily reiterated from the front seat. I didn't plan on leaving Spencer to fend for himself at this party of course. I planned on staying by his side until I was sure he was going to be fine, but I realized that might be a bit harder than I thought as we pulled up to the house. It was crowded with cars and some people hanging out on the front lawn. As we stepped out, we could hear the music coming from inside.
"This is definitely more than 'a few friends', Morgan." Spencer fidgeted with his hands nervous. Derek patted his back before clapping his shoulder and shaking him slightly.
"You'll be just fine, pretty boy." He said before him and Emily walked off and into the house. Spencer's anxiety was very apparent as he cracked and played with his fingers.
"We can leave if you really want to." I offered once I realized something like this might be way to out of his comfort zone. He took a deep breath and shook his head.
"No, no, it's fine."
"Are you sure?" I asked again just to make sure he was ok with this. He nodded his head yes so I linked my arm with his as I lead him into the party.
From the amount of cars parked outside of course I expected there to be way more people than previously anticipated, but I definitely didn't expect this many people. I held onto spencer's arm a bit tighter as we walk through the sea of people. I saw some people head down to where I assumed the basement was and lead spencer down the stairs. It was calmer down there, less people and softer music. So I thought this would be a better environment for spencer, who was currently as stiff as a board. I unlinked my arm from his to give him some space. I spotted the vacant couch and gestured for him to follow me as he went on about how Morgan was a liar.
"'Just a few people' he said. He promised just a few people! This is what I get for trusting him. He's always trying to get me to go to parties with him, of course it wasn't gonna be 'just a few people.'" His rant continued as we walked.
"Yes, yes, Derek is a liar and I'll put salt in his coffee tomorrow. But for now, just try to have a bit of fun tonight, ok?" I sat down on the couch, making myself comfortable. He sighed heavily and nodded.
"Ok, I'll try." He sat down, awkwardly positioned on the edge with his hands on his knees. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable sitting on a strange couch with God knows what on it. There was an ottoman beside the coffee table that looked like it opened up, so I opened it in hope to find something for spencer to sit on. Sure enough there was a thin blanket that looked clean.
"Here, up." I ordered him to stand and he did without a word. Cute.
I draped the blanket over the couch and gestured for spencer to sit back down. He smiled me gratefully as he sat back down, now looking much more comfortable.
"Thank you." I waved my hand dismissively, I mean it's the least I could do for making him come here. Some people filed back upstairs, so I saw an opportunity a drink from upstairs while it was basically empty down here.
"Will you be ok if I go get a drink?" He looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes, which made me want to just sit back down and forget about the drink.
"Yes, I'll be fine." He gave me a tight liped smile. I was reluctant to leave him, but I walked off regardless.
~~~
I felt awkward sitting all alone. After y/n left, I just started fiddling with my hands and looking around. I wish I had told y/n to stay. She was the only reason I had came and now without her here, i felt out of place.
I hear a group of people come down the stairs, their loud laughing filling the room. I get insanely anxious when I realize their voices getting closer to me.
"Hey man, mind if we sit here with you?" One of the guys ask. Of course I couldn't say no. Well technically I could, but I don't know how without coming across rude.
"Uh, yeah, sure." I slide over to the very end of the couch as 2 of them sat down and the others sat on the floor or stood. They continued their loud conversation and I wondered if I should just leave.
"Whatever, star wars and star trek are basically the same thing." One girl said from the floor. I suddenly thought back to earlier and the promise i made to y/n to try and have fun. So I interjected before I could over think it.
"Actually, Star Trek is more based on probable science as basis for it's plot while star wars is more sci-fantasy more focused on how people react to their surroundings, instead of how the surroundings are possible." I regretted opening my mouth immediately. They stared at me, surprised I had spoken to them.
"Thank you!" The guy sitting beside me shouted. "See! I told you!" He pointed at the girl who was speaking earlier. She simply rolled her eyes at him and he turned his head to me.
"Continue telling her how wrong she is." They all looked at me, waiting for me to continue my informational rant. Which I happily did. As I talked more about the differences and similarities between the 2 worlds, one of the guys, who I hadn't noticed had left, approached us with a plate of brownies. He held them out to the group and they all excitedly reached for them.
"You want one to?" He offered and held the plate out further so I could reach it. Of course I wasn't going to pass up a free treat, so I took one without giving it much thought.
"Thank you." I chewed on the browine as I carried on with what I was saying before being interrupted. This night is turning out to be fun after all. I do wish y/n was her though.
"Can I have another one please?"
~~~
Upstairs felt like a nostalgia trip back to high school. A room flooded with drunk people and people groping each other. It took some time to navigate my way through everyone and it took even longer finding the kitchen. But I eventually found my way. I was delighted seeing the familiar face of Derek Morgan as I entered.
"Well if it isn't the liar." He looked up from pouring his drink. He smiled at me and laughed.
"How's boy genius doing?" He asked as he took a sip of whatever drink he mixed together.
"I think he might climb out a window and run home any second now." I grabbed 2 empty solo cups, filling one up with water and the other with vodka and cranberry juice. Derek laughed.
"Ah I think he has a compelling reason to stay." He winked at me and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. I regret telling him about my crush on spencer. I told him to shut up, which just make him chuckle.
We talked for a few minutes about how Emily had almost immediately found a girl to flirt with and has been with her all night. And almost as if on cue, she walked in. We all teased her about her party crush for a few minutes, until the teasing turn onto me. I also regretted telling Emily about my crush.
I hadn't realized how much time had passed till Emily mentioned something about spencer being left alone for so long. A whole 30 minutes had passed since I had come upstairs and I immediately felt bad for ditching spencer for so long without a word. I quickly grabbed the 2 cups and bid them goodbye before hurrying off.
Getting through all the people took longer than before since I had to be extra careful as to not spill anything. I felt relieved when I finally reached the stairs to the basement. I was worried that spencer had been just sitting there for the past half an hour in silence. But my worries were quickly squandered as I saw him talking with a group of people who looked to be about our age. He had changed spots, now sitting criss-cross on the coffee table while all the other's surrounded him like it was story time.
"And I don't understand why leia kissed luke if she literally said in return of the jedi that she always knew he was her brother." Spencer babbled on as the people around hilm laughed loudly.
"Hey, spence." I saw his eye's light up when he saw me and he smiled wide.
"Y/n!" He threw his hands up, which caused him to almost fall backwards. He caught himself just in time and giggled a bit. It wasn't until I got closer to him that I noticed how red his eyes were. That, mixed with his odd behavior, it was clear he was not sober.
"Are you stoned?" I tried my best to contain my laughter, but it was funny watching him rock back and forth looking like he was really thinking about the question i just asked.
"Yes. No. I only had 2 brownies." He counted 2 on his fingers and held them up to me. The people he was talking to all started laughing and spencer joined in with them, probably not registering they were laughing at him.
"Ok, wanna come with me to a quiet place away from these people?" I leaned in closer to him, careful not to let the others hear. He doesn't say anything right away, just looks at me with an expression i couldn't place, but one that made my stomach flutter.
"Yes, please." He whispers back and stands up quickly. He sways back and forth for a moment before steady himself.
"We're gonna go somewhere else." Spencer tells the group and they all start booing in protest and all shouting disappointed "no's". Spencer seemed unbothered by them, but does say a quick apology regardless. I gestured for him to follow me as I stared walking away. He waved them goodbye before hurrying after me.
I lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into an unlocked room, which thankfully had no one in it. It appeared to be a guest room that was pretty empty, besides a queen bed, a night stand with a lamp and a rug.
"Those people were nice. They knew nothing about star trek though." Spencer sat down on the rug, returning to his criss-cross position.
"You do know there's a bed right there." I laughed, pointing to the bed that was right behind him. He shrugged.
"The rug looked softer." He said as he felt the rug. I took a seat next to him, putting the drinks off to the side. He looked completely out of it, like he was on a different planet.
"How are you feeling?" I asked and leaned back against the bed.
"Weird."
"I assume you've never been stoned before?" He shakes his head.
"I've read about the effects of marijuana, euphoria, altered perception, impaired memory and cognition. But It's so much different actually experiencing it first hand. It feels weird. I also probably shouldn't have ate 2 of those brownies. Brownies sound really good right now. Oh! Another effect of marijuana is increased appetite, or the "munchies" as they call it." He smacked his lips together, then licks them.
"My mouth is really dry." I couldn't help but laugh. This is definitely not how i expected this night to go. He turns to me as I laugh with a painfully cute expression that made my stomach flip. I reached for the cup of water i had gotten for him earlier and handed it to him.
"Here." I chuckled and he took it quickly. He didn't even look to see what was in the cup before downing the whole thing. Once he had finished, he whipped his mouth and put the cup down.
"Thank you. Your so kind." He turned to me and smiled gratefully. He looked absolutely beautiful in that moment. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes were glossed over and dreamy looking, his smile was simply adorable and the light was hitting him just right. His compliment made me blush and I turned away from his gaze. I felt him continue to stare at me.
"I'm sorry you're stuck taking care of me. I know you probably wanted to have fun tonight." His face had dropped and he sighed.
"It's ok, spence. I am having fun." I reassured him. Witnessing his first experience being high was admittedly very entertaining. He sighed again. He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, making me nervous.
"You're so amazing." He blurts out suddenly. His words took me by surprise and I felt my face heat up, probably now a light shade of pink.
"You're so pretty too. And caring, and smart, and funny, and pretty." His tone was light and distant, like he wasn't aware he wad saying all this out loud. That made me snap back to reality and remember that he was high. I felt a wave of disappointment hit me when I realized he was probably just saying all this stuff because he was stoned, not because he meant it.
"Ok, spence." I said dismissively and laughed a bit to hide my disappointment.
"I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met. I mean, there's a party happening right now and you choose to stay with me. You're always doing that, taking care of me. I think that's why I love you so much." The last part really caught my attention, my disappointment quickly dissipating and being replaced with shock.
Did he really just say that? I know I shouldn't take anything he says right now seriously, but admitting that he loves me seems pretty serious. I take a few seconds just to process what he had just said. I was sure he didn't mean it like that, I'm sure he meant as just a friend. But that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.
"What?" I finally said with a uncontrollable smile on my face. He turned to me, confused.
"What?"
"You just said you love me." His eyes widened and he shot up straight.
"What?!" He looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. He groaned, putting his head in his hands and shaking his head.
"Spence, it's ok. I know you didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He said something, but it was muffled by his hands.
"I can't hear you." He sighed again and lifed his head up so i could hear him clearer.
"I did mean it like that." He said, his voice quite and low. I couldn't believe what i had heard, so I just stared at him in shock for a moment. He glanced over to me when I didn't say anything for to long, groaning when he saw my shocked expression.
"Ugh, this is not how I wanted to tell you." He put his head back in his hands and slouched forward.
"I know you don't feel the same and we're just friends. I'm so sorry, y/n. You can forget I ever said that, i don't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for you. I just-"
"Who said I didn't feel the same?" I cut him off before he got to in his head. He turned his head so face that I thought he'd get whipe lash, his red eyes wide in surprise.
"Wait, what?" The look on his face made me giggle.
"You're smart and funny and kind and you're insanely cute, you understand me in a way no one ever has. You're so passionate about your work and helping people. You're the most incredible, extraordinary person I've ever known. How could I not love you?" I felt a huge weight lift off my chest as I tell him everything I've wanted to say to him for so long. He just stares at me wide eyed, his mouth opening like he was about to say something, but then closing it again.
"I- what- wait- huh?" He stammered, making me laugh.
"I'm sorry, it must be the drugs or my own wishful thinking. But did you just say what I think you said?" A piece of hair fell onto his face, so I tucked it behid his ear. His face turned red and his mouth hung agape slightly.
"Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober."
"No, I want to talk about it now." He scooted closer to me. I was almost certain this is not how he wanted this conversation to go, him stoned out of his mind and in some random room in a random house. Of course I wanted to say it again, to tell him I love him and that I've loved him for years. But I'd rather tell him that when he can process more than 1/2 things at once.
"Later, when you're not baked like a cake." He laughed like it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.
"'Baked like a cake'" He repeated after his laughter died down to a frequent giggle. His face suddenly turned more serious and he looked me right in the eye.
"Cake sounds so good right now." His face was so serious, like he had to have cake at that very moment or someone would kill his whole family. The intensity on his face was enough to make me burst into laughter. I had to look away from him to compose myself, so I didn't see him go to lay down. I felt his head rest on my thighs, the sudden contact taking me by surprise. I look down to see him turned away from me with his eye's closed.
After my initial shock disappeared, I hesitantly ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed in content and placed his hand on my knee. I smiled to myself as I continued to play with his hair.
"I'm tired." He mumbled. As if almost on cue, i felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to reveal a text from Derek. I chuckled as I read it over.
"Well you're in luck because Emily puked on a girl and now we're leaving." I tried to get up, but his head remained on my lap.
"Come on, spence. You gotta get up." He groaned in protest and gripped my leg to keep me in place.
"Don't wanna."
"Spencer." I said softly. I didn't want to move either, but unless we wanted to take a taxi home, we had to get up. He sighed before pushing himself up, his hair a complete mess. I reached over to fix it for him, combing his hair with my fingers. He looked at me like I was an angel on earth, his eyes fixed on me. Though the urge to pull him in right then was strong, but I had to get him home.
"Come on." I stood, reaching my hand out to help him up. I interlocked his hand with mine once he had stood up. I lead him out the door, back out to the basement, upstairs and through the crowd to the front yard where Derek was waiting for us.
"Hey, love birds." He smirked when he caught sight of our interlocked hands.
"Hi, Morgan. Do you have any snacks in your car?" Spencer asked. Morgan looked at him funny and smiled wide when he saw his red eyes.
"Are you baked?" Spencer giggled to himself before responding.
"Like a cake." He started laughing and Derek looked at me for answers.
"I'll tell you later." Derek nodded and walked over to his car, me and spencer following behind. Emily was already in the front seat, passed out. I felt bad for how she was going to feel in the morning.
The ride home was quiet, besides the occasional snore coming from Emily. I turned to Spencer to see him fighting off sleep, his eyes just slivers and struggling to keep his head up. I squeeze his hand to get his attention. He turned to me with tired eyes and I gestured for him to lean his head on my shoulder. He whispered a "thank you" before resting his head on my shoulder. We stayed that way till we reached Spencer's apartment complex.
I shook him slightly as we parked outside his building. His eyes opened slightly and he removed his head from my shoulder.
"Come on, I'll walk you inside." He gave me a tired smile. I escorted him out the car and into his building.
He talked about the book he was reading on the way up to his apartment, he barely making any sense as he did so. Once we reached his door he got quiet.
"You really meant it right?" He asked and I looked at him confused.
"Meant what?"
"What you said earlier." I smiled once I realized what he was talking about.
"Of course I meant it."
"Good. I meant it to." He smiled sweetly. I would've never imagined that spencer would like me back, or that I'd find out this way. But I'm happy regardless. I'm so happy. Spencer Reid, my best friend, loves me.
I cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He looked at me wide eyed when I pulled away.
"Goodnight, spence."
"G'night." He muttered, his surprise still evident. I waved him goodbye before heading back down to the car.
The ride back to my place consisted of telling Morgan how spencer had managed to get high on accident and him telling me how Emily drank way to much, resulting in her throwing up all over the girl she'd been flirting with. I left out the love confession part to avoid any further torment that spencer would definitely have to endure from him at work.
As he talked about what had happened while me and spencer where in the basement, I thought about everything that had happened. My smile grew more and more as I replayed the events of tonight. Just then, I felt my phone buzz. My smile growing impossibly wide when I read the text on the screen.
*ate everything in my fridge. I love you.*
I laughed before typing my response.
*I love you too.*
~~~
A/n: first tumblr fic guys! This was longer then i expected so oopsies my b 🤗 anyways, hope you enjoyed!
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ohnoitstbskyen · 7 months
Note
I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.
I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?
Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.
There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).
Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.
It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?
Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.
But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.
It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.
And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.
I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.
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sonotkari · 8 days
Text
Meaningless
Hanni Pham x Fem reader
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[ Synopsis ]
When, Where, and How did you and Hanni become so close? What was the start of the yapping duo's relationship?
Fluff
[ Word Count ]
1.6k
[ a/n ]
I'm struggling with my other fics so in the meantime I'm dropping this off to feed my children (I'm sorry I just need MORE TIME) This was just something I wrote without my two brain cells actually functioning so heads up for that info! /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
My dearest and my loved ones dis for u bae <3
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Somewhere in your mind, you'd wonder how everything started but never recall the moment. Maybe it was that one time way back in March when she sent you a picture of pudding flavor ice cream because apparently, it reminded her of you. Or maybe it was when you ranted about how you had volleyball practice almost every day with no breaks making you lose your shit soon. The question of how you became so close with Hanni had come up in your mind from time to time but it would always end up with no answer. It's really not that big of a deal, where an answer was needed asap, no, it was like those shower thoughts or maybe those random questions coming up in your head at 3 am while listening to music on your headphones, something like that. Regardless, whatever or however the conversation started, you were very grateful for it because now you have someone on your side who would listen to your random yappings whether it was about that hallway crush or that annoying History teacher who mostly talks about his life rather than teaching the class. 
The memory recalls when that one time she asked about your MBTI which was trending off at that time for who knows why. You did it once before it became popular and didn't think much of it since you never really understood a thing. You just did it anyway because TikTok told you so. So why not? But to think of it now, you made a good life choice of taking a 15-minute survey with just two of your brain cells working. Because now you both were texting each other nonstop knowing you were matching MBTI's with her. "I knew it. You sound like an INFP" "What's that even supposed to mean" And in the very end, Hanni fell asleep in the middle of texting, debating whether fairies are real or not. 
Most of the time the text messages and everything else were random. Except for that one time when she got into a (not so) fight with her best friend, giving her the cold shoulder. It was about something that triggered her which made her feel uneasy. You remember clearly how Hanni had asked you to come to school earlier than you usually did because she wanted company. And how she confessed she wanted to get things back to how it used to be with her best friend while crying on your shoulder in the bathroom. Encouraging her to speak her feelings to her best friend, after some days she was smiling excitedly rushing her way to you, grabbing your arms, saying she finally "did it" telling her best friend how she felt, and now they're back on track. 
In class, she would be seated beside you and always giggle about small little things making you hold on for your dear life to not suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of the session because, for some reason, you were so easily affected by her. Her smile makes you smile, her laugh makes you laugh, and her cheeky grin addressed to you makes you roll your eyes and look at her in a sidelong look with a small smirk on your lips. Others would point out or look at you both with dumbfounded expressions because you both wouldn't stop giggling every 5 minutes and everyone in class already knew whose voices the giggles belonged to because of how frequently it would happen. 
It was before summer break had started and you were ranting at Hanni about how you won't be seeing each other once the break starts. "You'll miss me, right?" became a habit of yours to say in your everyday convos, and her replying with a "Will I tho?" made you smack the girl's arm as a set, and that also became another one of your (bad?) habits. You wanted to squeal and jump around hearing her respond "Of course" to your ask if you could randomly call her because of how you'd probably miss her a lot and feel sad out of the blue due to the lack of her presence. Talking on a call wasn't your thing because you only have two brain cells that don't function well and you left your vocabulary somewhere making you end up in a stuttering mess but, you'd rather be a stuttering mess to Hanni than spend 2 months without hearing her voice. 
One memory from another, you recall another happy moment with her. She was in the cheerleading team and you promised you'd see her cheer on the day of the game but sadly you got a high fever the night before and had to inform her you couldn't get to see her first cheer on her first game. You couldn't help but think about the disappointment in the girl's face especially when she was eager for you to come and watch. The temperature got a bit better the next day and you were debating to yourself. Yes, your head was panging in pain, yes your body was a bit hot, and yes you feel numb moving and basically doing anything. But will it be worth it to bear everything just so you could see Hanni's surprised happy expression when you go and watch her? Oh yes. You know damn well everything's worth it when it's about Hanni. 
There you were in a rushing mess, running around your room while trying to get dressed, finding the other lost pair of socks while holding a cooling gel sheet for your forehead in your hand. Running wasn't good for you since it'll make your temperature go high again but all the rushed efforts will go to waste if you missed it. Is there any other choice? Of course not, silly. By the time you got to the gates of the school, all you could hear was the rhythmical beat of your heart with your panting, trying to calm yourself before you entered the gym. Of course, she was the one who noticed you first. There it was. The face. The expression. The dimples that would show every time she smiled. Excitedly rushing to you and showering you with questions about your fever state. "Weren't you not feeling well? What are you doing here― are you okay? Are you about to pass out?" "I just couldn't miss your cheer. I for sure would've regretted it if I stayed home" Your (maybe not so bad) habit had definitely influenced her as you felt a gentle smack on your arm along with a soft giggle from the girl.
The leaves began to lose their vibrant colors, crisping up and slowly falling down with the cold breeze flowing by in November. You asked Hanni to go out and hang out in this cafe your friend told you that had the best pudding in town, which she happily agreed to, and now both of you were walking in circles at the same place lost. Having no sense of direction and the Google map not being useful at all, you decided to give up going to the place. But someone doesn't seem to be happy about it. "What do you mean, let's go to a different shop?" "No, it's fine we can just go in another time. Besides it's cold and you're not very good with the cold" You looked at the flushed red tip of Hanni's ears and nose as you mumbled. "I'm not giving up. You were so excited about the pudding, so we're going to eat that goddamn pudding" And now you were walking again with Hanni by your side but this time, you were holding hands to "keep me warm if you're that worried" 
"What are you smiling so giddily about?" You snap out of the memories and look at the girl looking at you with concerned looks. "You look creepy to be honest babe..." "Oh shut up" Replying with a playful snicker you stood up from your seat and walked your way to your girlfriend hugging her from the side, resting your chin on her shoulder. "Hey, do you remember how we became friends?" Shifting your gaze to her, slightly tilting your head as you asked so. "Uhh... I don't... think so..." She now looked at you with a puzzled look. "I think we just went with the flow" "Haha, wow I went with the flow and got a girlfriend? Must be a mastermind then" Smackng your arm, Hanni outed a chuckle. "Hey, remember when I used to smack you like that a lot but now we switched positions" "Oh I'm definitely influenced by you. Bad and good" You mocked an offended expression, holding your chest dramatically. "What's that supposed to mean...!?" Hanni laughed again and went back to making her coffee. "I definitely remember that one time you came to see me cheer with a fever" It was your turn to out a chuckle hearing her recall the memory. "Hey how about that one time we went out but then got lost midway?" "Yeah, and you insisted on finding the place, even making excuses to hold my hand" "Aaahhh shush! Shut up! I was 16 leave me alone!!" Hanni sheepishly laughed which made you laugh again as well. 
"We had meaningless conversations all the time, talking about random stuff" Sighing softly as you linger your thoughts about your past friendship with Hanni. "What do you mean, meaningless?" Hanni was now stirring her coffee, blowing it occasionally as she fixed her gaze at you. "All the conversations we had, meant everything to me" She took a sip of her coffee along with a sigh and stared at you again. You could feel the affection from her gaze and can't help but feel your chest get warmer every second with the small smile and the little dimples on her cheeks showing.
Every moment we spent together means more than anything to me than you'll ever know. 
Hanni secretly, quietly thought to her mind, while smiling at the woman she loved most.
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yappers falling inlove r so cute
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋
+ jing yuan x f!reader | wc 1.9k | content: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive
notes: this is it babes , i’m hopelessly down bad for this man and it’s been what … a week ? help !! but also , first shot at him so i hope this isn’t too ooc or anything >_< rbs appreciated muwah !!
summary: where you come to realise that jing yuan can be just like you, in all the good ways.
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jing yuan is a busy, busy man.
but surely it isn’t that selfish for you to wish that all mornings are like this? this; with your boyfriend by your side past ten in the morning, half-naked under your covers and sound asleep. luckily, he doesn’t have any urgent matters to look into today and fu xuan has told you to make sure he gets enough rest today before the pace picks up again.
apparently, he’d worked himself ragged the past week and earns even the worry of the master diviner herself.
when he’s not general, when the armor comes off and the vulnerability switches on—jing yuan’s your boyfriend, and a very doting one, at that. the kind who spoils you endlessly with what he can, the one who’s quick to notice your every behaviour and tendencies, no matter how big or small.
the sunlight slips past the curtains, a sliver falling perfectly onto his face and down his arms. jing yuan is facing you, eyes closed, hair down and looking every bit the perfect specimen of a man.
that’s why you can’t help yourself, can’t help running your index finger down the line of his triceps, down to his forearms, appreciating the way the goosebumps sear delicately across his skin. you can faintly see the scar across his chest—an outcome of his earlier days ravaging battlefields, before he became general.
you still remember the small conversation the two of you had when you first saw it, when he first visited your humble house, when he first saw all of you and you, all of him.
“you don’t think it’s unsightly?” he asked.
it was funny, you thought, how jing yuan cared so much about what an ordinary girl like you thought of him.
you shook your head, accepting the kiss he leaned in to give. “not at all, general. nothing is as long as it’s on you.”
the fingers that trailed down his arms have made their way onto his hair, twirling it around the finger before it falls peacefully back onto his shoulders. his gray locks are smoother and prettier than your own hair—you find yourself envious.
how is jing yuan so pretty simply like this?
fingertips graze gently over his cheeks, thumb caressing the mole below his left eye. you smile idly to yourself, stupidly dreaming about what it would be like to spend the rest of your life next to jing yuan, much like the lovestruck idiot you are.
you think maybe jing yuan wouldn’t even think that far. he has far too many important matters to think about, matters that concern the safety and longevity of the xianzhou luofu.
besides, the two of you have only been together for two years. you’ve known friends who only got engaged five years into their relationship. aren’t yours just like an infant compared to that?
“do you do this every morning or am i just lucky to catch when it happens today?”
his voice snaps you out of your delusions, your hand instinctively jumping back towards yourself. jing yuan laughs at your sudden movement, and you curse yourself for only being able to think about how good he looks when he’s happy like that, when his eyes turn into little crescents and the way his mouth curves much like a child would.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” jing yuan says, letting you meet his golden eyes, imitating your earlier position by caressing the side of your cheek, smiling softly at you. “good morning.”
grateful that he doesn’t harp on it, you smile right back, leaning into his palm. “good morning,” you greet, happily accepting his invitation into his arms, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. “do not ever mention that again,” you make sure to tell him, still slightly embarrassed with yourself. “and that was a one time thing.”
jing yuan catches how humiliated you are, with the way you’re pouting and speaking in hushed tones. he chuckles, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm. “whatever you say, princess.”
it still makes your heart skip a beat—his pet names. it’s either princess, or angel, sometimes love. you love all of them. anything, as long as it’s from him.
“i am curious though,” he says, kissing the top of your head, lingering there momentarily to catch the whiff of your shampoo from the night before. “what were you thinking about? you seem happy.”
you’re not sure whether he means to tease you, because you’re at least sure he knows the rough ballpark. what else could you have been thinking about besides him? still, you entertain him anyway.
“you.”
you feel him stiffen a little before relaxing.
“yeah? what about me?”
you can just feel him smiling to himself, half happy and half teasing you, but mostly the latter. and maybe you’re just overwhelmed with bliss today that you don’t mind sharing, though it takes you a while to compose your erratically beating heart before you can say it out.
“i was just thinking… what it would be like,” you pause, hoping he won’t think you’re getting ahead of yourself, “to be with you forever.”
jing yuan’s fingers don’t stop playing with yours, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your sides with his other hand. it’s his way of assuring you that you’re not stepping over any boundaries, that he doesn’t think you’re too much. it’s his silent way of telling you don’t worry, he loves you.
“that’s what you think about when you watch me sleep, huh?” he chuckles and you know he’s teasing this time.
“jing yuan,” you call his name, strict, tilting up to lock gazes with him, “i swear if you—”
but he takes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, leaning you up to kiss him, and he makes sure it’s a long, deep one—makes sure you know how he feels. despite how it looks, he’s gentle. the pads of his fingers don’t hurt your cheeks and the way he kisses you is soft and slow, because he wouldn’t dream of hurting you. ever.
when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips, he smiles again, with so much adoration you feel like you can melt away, like he’s your sun and you hopelessly orbit around him, like he’s your entire world.
“saying such sweet things when i’m already hopelessly in love with you,” he pauses, a low chuckle exhaled, “how cruel.”
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a grin. “i only do that as revenge,” you say, playing along.
“oh, do you now?”
“mhm, it’s your fault, really, general, for making me fall so deep so quick,” you confess, feeling your heart soar as he presses your foreheads together. “so i thought you should get a taste of your own medicine.”
jing yuan’s lashes flutter against yours as you both stare into each other’s eyes, completely enraptured. “don’t worry, you already have.”
sometimes, you’re afraid that his feelings for you have gone stale. that perhaps, with all this time apart, maybe he realises that he doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you, would do better without you.
but times like these—times where he anchors you down, lets you remember that he’s human, just like you—you know that it’s not the case. because just like you, he can be so hopelessly in love too. he can dream of you, and think of you endlessly throughout the day. even when he barely has time to correspond with you, even when he’s thinking of ways to prolong peace in your world.
jing yuan will always love you.
he clears his throat when he pulls away, looking sheepishly to the side. “you know, i was afraid of something when i caught you smiling.”
you raise a brow, tilting your head to the side, utterly confused. what would someone like him have to be afraid of?
as though he senses your question, he sits up and rifles through his side of the drawer, and you follow suit, draping your blanket over your own half-naked body. you see him taking something into his palms, hiding it before unfurling his fingers delicately in front of you.
it makes you gasp, makes you feel like maybe your heart has stopped beating for a second.
“jing yuan, what is this?”
the solitaire diamond ring glows radiantly in the palm of his hands, the scalloped band studded with natural white diamonds.
for the first time since you’ve met him, you see him being embarrassed. “exactly what you think it is,” he recovers, taking your left hand in his. “i’ve kept this for a while now, wondering when would be considered the right time.”
it’s hard for you to believe. jing yuan is a highly sought-after man. he has everything anyone would want in a husband—yet here he is, declaring his lifelong love to you. you can’t imagine that the same general who leads the luofu, the same soldier who’s protected everyone and made this peaceful life a possibility, is the same person who says he wants you.
“y/n, i knew i wanted to be with you for our entire lives from that first night we had dinner together,” jing yuan confesses, smiling just thinking about how you’d told him about your family, and about how passionate you seemed about taking care of the orphaned kids around your area. “i’m sorry we don’t spend much time together, but i’m working on that.”
he doesn’t have to apologise—you know it comes with the job. you want to tell him that, but you’re still a little stunned about all of this that you can’t get a single word out.
jing yuan’s golden eyes stare straight at you, the desire and love so apparent it overwhelms you, in a good way. “yesterday, fu xuan asked me something—what would you regret the most if the world ended tomorrow?”
fu xuan? is she in on this?
“and the answer came faster than i thought it would.” he brings the diamond ring up in between your faces, grinning from ear to ear, childlike. “it’s that i didn’t get to spend enough time with you, that i didn’t get to marry you.”
is he really about to do this?
“i don’t want to rush you into—”
“yes.”
it came rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself, and jing yuan blinks at you, completely speechless, before he breaks out into a wide smile, hand on the back of your neck and pulling you towards him, planting a big kiss on your lips.
(jing yuan finds it amusing how honest you are; it’s one of the qualities he finds most attractive in you. every single day he finds out more and more things about you that makes him fall even more in love. you’re his every weakness and yet his every strength—you’re dangerous, the good kind.)
before he puts the ring on your finger, he pauses and clears his throat. “y/n, be my wife?”
(he figures he should ask properly, even though he already knows your answer. the grin you give him is enough to send him into overdrive, enough happiness to last him the rest of his and your long lifespan.)
“make me your wife, general.”
(and when he puts the ring on your finger, he knows. he knows that you’re it and he’s going to protect you his whole goddamn life. that he’s going to love you like he can love no other.)
“looks like you’re mine forever now, y/n.”
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firemenenthusiast · 23 days
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hi hi! I wanna say I love your writing and love that you’re on the Archie train rn - I do have a lil request so I know most people think Farleigh is like submissive but I would love one where he’s like super dominant and for smut he’s like basically leaves you crying from overstimulation and makes you come a lot but like in a fun way not necessarily toxic (which isn’t bad either but yeah) (((: idk I feel like he’s a switch and could be both dominant and submissive
oh my god dom!farleigh finally out ! thank you so so SO very much anon for being so patient with me and i am incredibly sorry for making you wait this long :’(
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—“casual”
dom!farleigh x fem!reader
summary: there’s a reason why you should never talk about farleigh behind his back
warning: 18+, smut, pwp, unprotected sex, rough sex (dom!farleigh), brat tamer! farleigh, free use, degradation kink, farleigh and reader sounds like fuckbuddies, cunnilingus, slapping, name calling (slut & whore) (sorry) (not sorry), praise kink, petnames (baby, sweetheart & doll) oral fixation, face-fucking, mirror sex, cock-slapping, spitting, making out, overstimulation, blowjobs, dacryphilia, throat fucking, mating press, teabagging, facial, cum eating, creampie, cervix fucking, ruined orgasm, foul language, humiliation, aftercare, fluff at the end
a/n: i really hope this is okay with what you’ve imagined anon, as writing dom!farleigh is by far my hardest work yet. literally pondered on this piece for months. enjoy ! teehee <3 also keep reading, it gets better
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“can you believe it ? like— im not even asking for much but he’s just so, ugh” the girl sitting over at the end of the couch complains. you’re sitting in a circle, well not quite a circle, but it’s a bunch of girls just lounging, sitting and talking about what’s currently bothering them. and this time, the topic is boyfriends. cliché, but they can really be a pain in the ass according to these girls. you’re not sure if you can relate, given that you do not have a boyfriend. but you do have farleigh, whatever you’re calling him. he’s never bothered to put a label on it, and certainly never bothered to ask you to be his girlfriend. “oh my god yes” you hear one of the girls agreeing, followed by the others nodding and grabbing at each others thighs
“what about you ? i mean, we certainly heard a lot about farleigh” one of the girls asks you, snickering at the end of her sentence. everyone around campus is familiar with how farleigh’s relationships never end peacefully. they always end with a series of drama that apparently everyone is tuned in on. it’s like a ‘what did farleigh do this time ?’ show, that airs every couple of months. the common hall massacre from farleigh’s last hook up is still being talked about till this day and it’s been like what, six months ? you don’t know why even after seeing those messy events where farleigh always looked like he couldn’t care less, you still ended up in his bed at the end of the very party where he first laid his eyes on you. i guess when thee farleigh start shows you even the slightest of interest, you have no other option but to give in. it’s like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and one must be strong enough to resist the temptation of getting with the tall, golden skinned brunette. you— ? you just don’t have it in you.
pursing your lips, you quietly force an awkward smile to yourself, practically eye rolling. ofcourse they would be interested. you shut your eyes for a moment before blinking to every eyes focusing on you. truth be told, you dont like talking about farleigh to people, especially to answer invasive questions like this. you already feel so insecure with whatever kind of relationship you have with farleigh, so having people try to peek into it puts you in a very uncomfortable position. “what about him ?” you raise your eyebrows with your question-response in a desperate attempt to push farleigh off the topic. “girl how’s your boyfriend ? is he great or…” one of the girls tease, flipping her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to provoke an answer from you, preferrably a piece of gossip that she could spread to her girlfriends at uni.
“he’s not my boyfriend” you let out quietly, head low, correcting their assumptions that it’s an established relationship, earning a swarm of mutter from throughout the group. some of them already exhanging knowing looks and giggling to each other. well isn’t this just humiliating. “how come ?” the blonde serves you with yet another question, tone obvious that she’s just mongering for gossip. the sudden light dust prickling at your eyeballs are being wiped away by a heavy blink from you. all these questions evoke a sudden rage from within. she’s right. yeah, how come ? how come you’ve been letting farleigh fuck you anytime he wants when he doesn’t ever bother to make you his girlfriend. you’ve realised a long ago that it’s unlikely that you’re gonna be a couple but everyone seems to think the two of you are exclusive by the way none of you have been caught fucking anyone else.
noticing your expression, she decides to spare you the humiliation and just move on to her next question even though the former hasn’t been answered. the situation is making you awfully quiet, and it’s not just because you barely knew any of these girls, you just thought sitting with them in this mild get-together at farleigh’s mansion might offer you some sort of entertainment. never have you thought that you’re the one who’s gonna be the entertainment. the thick buzz at the top of your head confuses you between the exhaustion of talking to obnoxious young adults invited tonight or the weariness of knowing that you’re just a toy to farleigh. at first you didn’t really care, but after a while the boy’s starting to grow on you. sometimes he does care, the way he always walk you back to your dorm after a long night of doing your activities. but most of the times you tell yourself that it’s just common courtesy, and he could be doing that to any girl he wants.
“ah fuck that, how’s the sex ?” was her other question, which was followed by daunting whoops of teasings from the girls. still, every pair of eyes is set on you and it’s gotta be on the top list of your most uncomfortable situation. however the unusual bitterness towards farleigh at the moment gags your desire to shit talk about him to these girls. as you search for something bad to say, you realise that you don’t have anything to complain. guess you’d just have to lie then. straightening your shoulders and throwing your neck back, you lean your back on your propped up arms against the floor.
“have you ever heard that he’s good in bed from anyone ?” you start, which earns eager head shakes from the girls.
“well that’s because he fucking sucks. cums too fast, and guess what ? you’d think he’d atleast bother to make the girl-“ you gesture to yourself, “-cum first, but that’s none of his business it seems” the small piece of information being sought out to the public like that leaves the girls wide-eyed, with some of them dramatically placing their palms against their chest. you feel horrible for lying, and it just registered in your head that this will go terribly wrong knowing that it’ll spread around like an infection. “oh my god. really ?” the blonde attempts to fuel to the fire mid-burning the whole place down, her blue eyes almost popping out of her head, gouging for more info from you.
nodding, you catch yourself feeding her with yet another lie. “fucking sloppy, is what he is. moans like a bitch too. i should’ve been fucking his cousin by now, which, i don’t even know why i haven’t” the last part of this whole unbased shit talk feels too much for you, as you mentally wince at how untrue just all the things you said. the whole room is filled with various sounds of gasping, giggling and overall indefinable mutters. if you were being honest, you’re still not going to tell them how you’re willing to beg for his cock, telling him to make you his cum dump, as long as you get to be fucked by him. you raise your head to examine each of their faces, subtly biting on your bottom lips at their reactions.
it was a small get-together afterall, so you wouldn’t be suprised that some of the hallways in the house are ominously empty at this hour. you could still hear a distinct chatter and music from behind the other walls but as you briskly walk towards the left wing of the mansion, your wrist is suddenly being grabbed from behind, before your whole body is being caged against the wooden wainscot on the wall, pair of huge palms snaking themselves across your forearms. “farleigh—“ you huff out, neck craned to give access to the pair of lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin. the tall figure caging and pressing against your body is making you whimper out a small moan, to which he lets out a chuckle. you always make it so easy for him.
wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a firm grab, he brings them above your head before moving his lips towards your soft ones, a string of saliva shining on the flesh with each breath the both of you are taking. his touches grazes your skin delicately, dragging you into becoming an addict. you suck in a deep breath through your nose as you return the kiss, tongue darting to lick on his bottom ones, earning a smile from him. “i’ve missed you” he teases, while running his fingertips along your waistband, knowing the two of you only parted ways when his friendgroup approached him, which later lead you to the wrongful confessions with the girls earlier. words like these makes you long for his affection, spending your sleepless nights thinking about the feelings you may or may not have caught for him. he huffs out against your face, forehead resting against each other as you feel his hot breath on your skin. he leans down to chase your lips for yet another kiss, your noses nudging against each other only for him to hover over your lips with a teasing grin, making you grow desperate from the phantom kiss.
his large hands rest on the curve of your waist when you push him back by his broad chest, both your fingers sprawled over the fabric of his linen. he’s ridiculously good at maintaining his balance all while being pushed back with his head leaning down, still kissing you, his pretty curls grazing the skin on your cheeks. he’s so pretty, the type of pretty that makes you want to look at him all day, the type of pretty that you’d fall for. the way he kisses you could make anyone believe that he’s in love, yet he never cared to let you know, or tell you that this is just a fling for him. you already know where this is going, as you were on your way to find him in his room anyways. you let out a small giggle when he almost toppled back over a bump on the carpet, before he joins you with a low chuckle against your lips.
“c’mon, farleigh—“ whining, you’re half begging for him to just pick you up and carry you to his bed, which, like he could read you mind, he does. “i know, baby”. you’re clinging onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands cupping his face to deepen the kiss as you feel the growing bulge poking at your thighs. humming into the kiss, he pulls away momentarily to lean you against the wooden door of his room, turning the both of you to hold you against the door, forcing it to shut, all while his tongue licks your taste off yours.
you could feel his desperation grow from his kiss as your fingers work eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. he fumbles with the back of your dress, reaching to undo the string, heavy pants escaping both your lips, practically clawing at each other. after peeling the linen off his shoulder and pulling it down to throw it on the floor, you watch him move recklessly. “fucking get this off” he groans, as you reach to the back to help him. everything is moving so fast, and you glad it does as it seems to be impossible to remain patient with each of farleigh’s touch against your skin. it’s like a craving, an addiction, as desperation fills the thick air inside the room more then the hot breath puffing from your lips.
as soon as you’re left only with the matching set of underwear, farleigh wastes no time picking you back up to throw you on the bed, his body flush against yours as his kisses down your body are starting to get wet. between his fingers raking around your waist and his mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone leaving wet bruises all across it, you feel yourself getting lost in the haziness, unable to mutter a single coherent sentence. all that could be let out past your lips are whines and moans, as your fingertips graze against his scalp, pulling at the root of his curls. you feel helpless, exposed and needy for him and only him, to do something. once you feel his lips kissing dangerously close to your cunt, sucking and licking especially hard on the flesh of your inner thighs, you find yourself reaching for his face. “farleigh please,,” you let out pleas after pleas, begging for his lips to be where you need him the most. paying no mind to you, he continues placing his marks across your inner thigh and the spot closest to the hem of your panties with his palms smoothing over the skin on your torso.
he’s humming in between kisses, his eyes rips themselves from focusing on marking your skin to look directly into yours, maintaining eye contact. if it wasn’t for the growing bulge in his pants, he’d be willing to spend the rest of his time just looking into your eyes. tilting his head down, he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, breaking eye contact for a moment to look at the dripping mess in front of him, grinning at how soaked your folds are, making your eyebrows knit. the way your pussy glisten with your wetness gotta be one of his favourite views ever. feeling the ache down your core starts to throb, you can’t help the pitchy moan slipping past your lips and the sudden bucking of your hips into his face. “don’t make me beg farleigh, please” the words coming out of your mouth contradicting each other. before you could add to your complaints, you feel his swollen lips smashing against your folds, his tongue hot, licking away all the wetness collecting and dripping towards your hole. he has one hand holding you down by your waist, and another rubbing on your pussy, spreading the folds apart so his tongue could have better access. the fingers on your pussy roam down to your hole, pushing your clit upwards so he could settle his whole face in between your thighs, his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit. driving his face into your pussy, it’s like he’s stuffing his face with your essence, eager to lick away every drop of wetness dripping down your folds as he feels like nothing tastes better. he hums, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerves, fishing out another whine from you.
“gonna cum, farleigh. please make me cum” the words come out of your mouth like water, without you even having time to think it before. as the knot in your lower stomach begins to get tighter with each sucking of his lips on your folds, he knows you’re seconds away from cumming. you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to wash down over you, as you’re willing to give up everything to chase after it, even your dignity. shutting your eyes, your fingers harshly grab at the sheets beneath you, as farleigh suddenly rips his mouth away from your pussy, moving over to stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes busy eyeing his hands that are unbuckling his belt. “what the fuck—?!” you almost yelled, anger and dissatisfaction tearing through your voice as you look at farleigh in disbelief. the orgasm that you were chasing is washing away, leaving your pussy feeling so raw and swollen.
he throws you an unbothered look with an eyebrow quirked, his lips shiny from eating you out. “sorry, apparently i’m just not bothered to let the girl cum first” the coy expression on his face obvious, the slight curl at the side of his lips quickly being stripped away. “—isn’t that right ?” he continues, leaning over with his knee dipping into the mattress, his propped arm settling beside your temple, his face inches away from your muted one. the furrowed eyebrows that were accompanying your anger dropped down, as your glossy eyes now being forced to look into his intimidating ones. you could feel that he’s not happy, but none of his expressions tell that, except that you’re fucked.
you hear him let out a chuckle as he leans back, both his knees on either side of your body, resting his weight on your torso. “you should see the look on your face sweetheart” he tsks, shaking his head at you heavy breathing, still affected by the orgasm that he just ripped off from your core. no words could be lolled out of your tongue and you could only shake your head as an attempt to save yourself. he cocks his head to the side before his eyes widen,
“no, i mean it”
moving his knee over your body, farleigh moves to the side of the bed before reaching over to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up to push you off the bed by your neck, forcing you to sit infront of the body sized mirror by his nightstand. you’re kneeling, your hands are forced to prop yourself up from face planting on the hard floor, ass is sticking out on full display giving him the perfect view. oh how he loves when you’re exposed like this for him and no one else.
before you could even react to being pulled off the bed, his fingers already curl themselves across your skin, wrapped around your neck, pulling you upstraight so you could only look at your reflection in the mirror, and his smug face while he crouches down. “look at yourself, such a pretty face-“ he starts, fingers moving to push your cheeks together, his arms pressing down your chest so you’re resting against his shoulder.
“-but so. fucking. dumb.” he says, tapping roughly on your cheek after each words.
the last part of his sentence heavy, emphasizing on how stupid you are that you couldn’t even think before going off telling people such lies. “you know what i love to do with a pretty face that doesn’t know when to shut up ?” he trails off, letting go off your face to continue unbuckling his belt, the metal of the buckle clinking, before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down.
“as if you know when to shut up” you spit out, trying to retaliate against his words.
he offers you an amused look before shaking his head and smile. “i love when you prove me right“ farleigh chuckles as he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, before pulling down his pants, along with his boxers, making his now fully hard length that was straining in his pants spring up, hitting the trail of hair on his lower belly. no matter how many times you’ve seen and been fucked by him, you still think he’s huge. he’s perfectly girthy, his tip always flushes a deep shade of pink and his cock’s just as pretty as him.
he steps closer towards you, reaching down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you up, forcing you to stand on your knees. he looks at you with that grin you could never crack the meaning of, as you watch his other hand move to grab the base of his cock. his firm grip pulling at your scalp leaves you quiet, as you could only glance between his face, and the leaking cock in his hand. with your head in his one hand and his heavy length in the other, your eyes are on the same level of his waist where you could hear the loud sound of him spitting into his hand, as it lands on his length. the lewd, loud squelching sound of him stroking saliva all over his cock right beside your face makes you clench around nothing
sighing, he pulls your face towards his crotch before starting to slap his hard cock against your cheek. you’re starting to feel degraded to a mere sextoy with the way he’s smearing his cock all over your face, the sensitive tip tapping at your swollen lips. his long digits wrapped around the base serves a great purpose of aiming his slick length so it slaps heavy against your face, bouncing against the skin again and again, omitting loud slapping sounds. “i don’t even know what i’ve ever done to you-“ he starts, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“-but you don’t talk about me that way, baby”
he stops the slapping of his cock to wipe it all over your face instead, repeatedly moving his shaft over your nose as it makes him groan in pleasure. your pretty face is covered with the slick of saliva and precum, you hair a mess and sticking all over your face. as soon as he finishes his sentence, your entire reflection on the mirror is being blocked by his legs stepping in front of you, so he could roughly shove his hard cock past your lips, pushing it down your throat. the sudden pressure at the back of your tongue makes you gag, as tears start forming on your waterline. you’re starting to regret the things you said just for the one minute of validation. farleigh has never done anything like this to you, but you know this is not going to end anytime soon.
“shh…shh- it’s okay, im just gonna fuck this mouth slow and nice. is that good ?” he coos, his hips begins thrusting into your mouth, starting nice and slow before quickly changing to a rapid pace in a split second, not allowing you to adjust at all. he’s now properly fucking your mouth, and if you didn’t already feel like a cocksleeve, you certainly do now.
“there you go, you’ve always been so good at sucking my cock. you’re a proper slut you know that ?” he mutters through gritted teeth, both his large hands cradling your head, slamming your face down his cock, heavy balls slapping against your slicked chin from all the drool dripping down your lips. looking up at him, you try to blink away the glossiness of your eyes as you give him an obeying look, seeking for his approval. “oh that’s cute, you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” the whiny moans you’re letting out sends vibrations, further stimulating his cock. “aww mouth too full of cock you can’t even answer” giving you a fake pout on his lips, he pulls out for a moment to let you answer, yet you’re keeping your mouth shut. “i said-“ he yanks your hair as he leans down close to your face, “-you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” you almost topple back before nodding vigorously,
“yes, yes—“
“yes what ?”
“yes i am, farleigh”
your quick response earns a satisfied grin from him before your mouth is back to being stuffed by his hard cock. you try your best not to gag too hard on his length as you know farleigh wouldn’t appreciate that. even with him treating you like you’re worthless, you’re still eager to please him. maybe you are indeed a slut. his slut.
the rapid movements of your head bobbing down his shaft and his hips thrusting into your mouth makes your hands roam up his thighs for leverage, as you look up at him through your lashes. he thinks you look so cute like this, so he offers you a smile from above, the tip of your nose hitting into his lower belly repeatedly. you could feel his thrust getting even faster before one last throw of his head and he’s pushing your mouth off his cock, messy strings of saliva connecting from your lips to his swollen tip, his balls dripping with sticky translucent substance that you couldn’t even tell. could be drool, or precum, or a mixture of both of your fluids. his cock is now resting against his navel, as it bounces with every move farleigh makes. he’s now pulling you up by your arms, the state of you so pathetic that if it were to be described, you’re nothing short of fucked and cockdrunk.
“c’mon sweetheart, hands and knees. need to fuck your pussy” his instructions loud and clear, as your body is being thrown like a doll onto the mattress. and like it’s instinct you immediately crawl onto the bed and prop your ass up, your legs apart, back arching with your face dropped down between the sheets. “i know you’re a good girl” he smiles, hands roaming across the smooth skin of your ass before swiftly pulling down your panties, revealing your soaking wet puffy lips, practically begging to be fucked. “well that’s a sight felix is certainly missing out on” the sight before him makes his cock twitch, a drop of precum forming at the tip before he catches it in his fingers to spread it along his length. getting onto the mattress, his pants already discarded and pooling beside the bed.
he crawls over you to rub his length against your folds, collecting the wetness that’s practically drenching his cock, before thrusting into your hole without warning. a cracked loud moan from your lips grazes both your ears as you give up against the sheets, your sobs being muffled by the soft fabric underneath you. he’s not in the mood of making you feel good as he’s only focused on fucking the dumb out of you and letting his anger out. he’s making you take his cock like a good girl he knows you are, as you struggle to adjust to the stretch of his size. he’s angry, well more like irritated, when he walked by the living room looking for you, only to hear you talking shit about him, and telling pathetic lies with no substance. there hasn’t been one fuck where farleigh doesn’t make you cum first, and he certainly fucks you like nobody else. so when you went off feeding those plastic blondes fake gossip just to appeal to them, of course he’s mad.
his large chest is now pushing down against your back, his large hand found it’s way at the back of your neck, holding your head down that your face is being mushed against the sheets. his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your face pressed down so hard to the point that the only sound you could let out are heavy cries and sobs, incoherent mumbles of pleads of his name as you’re being brought to your orgasm while he’s still rapidly fucking into you. “farleigh— mngh,, ohmygod“ in a way you sound like you’re worshipping him, while he’s ball deep inside your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix.
normally he would help you chase your high down but he doesn’t care. “i’ve never made you cum huh ? you can cum all you want now baby” his words are starting to get to you, as your pussy’s starting to feel so raw. another wave of orgasm come crashing down, leaving you a lightheaded babbling mess. you’re now actually crying for him, tears streaming down your face, shoulders bobbing, as both tears and drool wet the sheets underneath. “no more,, please. s’too much” you manage to let out weakly, your fingers gripping at the poor fabric desperately. suddenly you feel like he’s grown much larger than he usually does.
looking at your fucked up state, he let out a chuckle. “but i thought you wanted this ?” he mocks, he knows that you’re just too fucked up to even make up your mind. you feel so stretched out by his girth, and the position grants him the perfect access to fully fuck his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward in a rough rapid pace into the mattress. “you think felix could fuck you like this ?” he groans, making you shake your head desperately almost like you’re being hypnotised. “n-no,,no- hm“ you let out in response, your voice bumpy from his thrusts that are making your whole body shake. the whole situation is feeding the primal urge in him, as he grunts while biting down the skin at the back of your neck, his hand grabbing at your hair, pulling your head back to lift your face off the drool-drenched sheets. his other hand is holding you close by your stomach, lowering his hand to feel the moving bulge on your lower belly.
“feel that ? that’s my cock- so… fucking deep inside you. so maybe next time you wanna talk shit, fuck-“ he half whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, as his thrusts are starting to falter. both your hot cheeks are being pressed together as he talks right into your ear. “-remember how pathetic you look right now” he finishes off his sentence with one hard thrust, his hot body pressing down against yours before warm sticky substance fills up your hole, drops of it threatening to spill from the brim. you feel his chest resting on your back, he’s catching his breath as he pants into your ear with his hand wrapped around your neck.
“oh fuck,,” he lets out, voice thick with his remaining pants as he watch the cum oozing out of your cunt when he pull his softening cock out. he’s leaning back on his heels, admiring his work, ropes of white leaking down your puffy swollen lips, a low groan escapes his lips when he notices your hole clenching around nothing, pushing out more of his cum. smiling, he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh. “such a filthy whore, letting me use this pussy like a toy” he lets out, his words making you feel so dirty. “aren’t you, baby ?” he coos, running his fingers across your chin. letting out a huge content sigh before hearing you mumble out a string out words. “what’s that, hm ?” leaning down, he moves closer to your lolled out face to hear you.
“you came too quick” you struggled to let out those words, yet still determined to try and piss him off.
raising his eyebrows, he seems surprised by your little protest before you feel his fingers slowly smooth over your hair, petting your head.
“i know. and that’s your job to get me hard again”
hearing his words, instant remorse washing over you as you feel him flip you over, that you’re now lying on your back, facing him. he looks even bigger, shoulders broad and glistening in sweat, making you feel like he could cage you in any moment now. his cheeks look flushed and red, his lips pink and swollen yet he never looked prettier. your hands immediately move up to hold onto his thighs, now being on either side of your upper body as his cock is hanging right in front of your face. the remainder of his cum that is clinging onto his tip drips down, landing onto your lips before his fingers push your cheeks open, shoving his cock into your mouth as he tries to fit the whole length inside.
his limp cock feels odd on your tongue at first, but you immediately start sucking on his length. “come on, doll” he urges you, eager to be able to fuck you again. you mentally flinch at the name he’s calling you, as it really makes you feel filthy. deep down you absolutely love filling your mouth full, and sucking on his cock. anything to please farleigh. he’s thrusting his hips down to your face, circling it so now it’s his balls turn to be shoved into your mouth, before being absolutely slobbered with saliva. in no time he’s getting hard again, making it easier for him to fuck into your mouth, only to pull it out and replace it with his balls again, and doing so repeatedly until he feels just. you have your eyes closed, your lips busy fondling and kissing at each of his sack, your tongue covering them with drool.
farleigh is holding onto the headboard, grunts spilling from his mouth from how good you’re worshipping his cock. as he tilt his head down, he can’t help the moan slipping past his lips at you sucking at the underside of his balls. now that he’s fully hard again, he reaches down to grab at the base of his shaft before putting the entire heavy weight of it onto your face, rubbing his length all over your soft skin, like he did earlier.
too weak to form coherent sentences to him, you manage to drag out a mumbled “please…farleigh”. you hear him let out a satisfied hum as you close your eyes, letting the feeling of his wet cock sliding on your face takes control. the length of his cock almost covering your face as he’s contemplating just fucking his cock against the skin of your face into nothing. everything’s just so wet now, his sweaty body against yours, your face warm and sticky with sweat, tears and his cum, with his balls dripping with your drool. you’re too cockdrunk to even protest, letting him use you like a cum rag, wiping the cum off his cock on your skin, your pussy throbbing from another orgasm you just had undone just from how lewd this is.
“you make such a good whore, y’know ? im gonna need to fuck your pussy again” almost immediately after saying that, he’s lifting your upper body up, making you sit while he moves behind you to let your frail body rest against his. “let me have one last fuck okay ?” he whispers into your ear, your eyelids heavy as you slowly nod. his fingers tap at your thigh, signalling you to raise your hips. he has one arm wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap as you feel the tip of his hard cock slip back into your cunt with the guide of his other hand. you’re now sitting on his lap, legs bent and all spread out to give access to him. he could feel the stickiness of his cum left inside you engulfing his length, that is reaching deeper, bumping into your cervix. ”fuck, could feel my cum inside you—” the stretch of his cock against your wall is squeezing his cum back out of your hole as low moans escape both of your lips. he begins thrusting at a continued pace, much like before, making your body bounce on his lap. you let out a high pitched moan, your folds still swollen as you mumble out “m’too much farleigh- no more,, please” he ignores your whines and moans, fucking up into you like he’s been starved of it.
he reaches up to grope your tits, that have fallen out of your bra when he was ramming into you earlier. this is the first time tonight that farleigh’s even bothered to touch your nipples as he normally would’ve been too attached to sucking on your mounds by now. the lack of attention to your hard nipples got them too sensitive as you feel like screaming when farleigh tweaks one of them in between his fingers. he’s cupping one of your tits in his large hand while the other one bounces hard with each of his rapid thrusts up your sensitive walls. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room as you start to feel your maybe 5th orgasm coming, having lost count- as his thrusts suddenly stop. “nooo,, no- please don’t make me” you start whining at the sudden stop of his movements, shaking your head helplessly to try to get him to change his mind. you know this move so well, he always make you do it when you’re on his lap.
he’s gonna make you fuck yourself on his cock.
“you know the drill pretty girl” his voice firm, not leaving any space for your antics. your head resting against his shoulder feels too heavy to be lifted off, but that’s just you being a brat. you show no signs of moving, with your arms flailing weakly in his embrace. you hear him let out a sigh before being followed by a low groan, lifting you off his lap and flipping you over. you’re now sprawled open in front of him, cold air grazing across your pussy makes you shiver. he pushes his weight down against your thighs with his hands, putting you in a mating press. all you got to do was let out a gasp before a harsh slap from his large hand stings across your face. “i gave you plenty of chances-” he lets out as you feel another slap lands on your cheek
“-but you never seem to appreciate them”
another slap. and another.
you’re moaning, enjoying being treated so harshly by him. as your tears stained cheeks turn red and a new stream of tears are threatening to spill, you try begging for mercy with a weak attempt, “mmh- please, farleigh,,”. your final whiny plea is immediately being cut short by another slap, this one stings especially hard, making you think that he hates you. he’s now grabbing at the flesh at the back of your thighs, fully pressing your thighs against your tits, before his hips start thrusting into your pussy again. wet, squelching sound bouncing off the walls as your wetness start splattering all over the sheets. the shame and humiliation makes you start sobbing again, your breathing heavy as you struggle to take his cock that’s protruding against your walls.
he notices your heavy breathing, yet he has no intentions of slowing down. “you’re breathing like you’re doing all the work, fuck— “ you hear him say. his thrusts after doesn’t last long before he immediately pulls out, his hand quickly reaching down to continue the pressure on his cock. “oh fuck. fuck, fuck—“, strings of curses leave his mouth. stroking his shaft with a tight fist, his pace rapid, desperate and sloppy before his hips begin to fuck into his fist, his balls slapping against his knuckles. “fffuck, fuck yes-” staggering moans spill out of his mouth, making him look pathetic. his voice almost cracks before he’s moving up your body, his hand still pumping his cock rapidly before he’s cumming, spurting warm seed all over your pretty face. it’s not as much as before, but your face’s still covered by his cum, your tongue licking away the drops landing on your lips. you hear him let out a deep sigh, heavy panting before collapsing onto your body.
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inspecting his actions closely, your mind still hazy, your face messy with tear stained cheeks, with some still clinging onto your lashes. farleigh had wiped the remnants of his cum off your face, it was the first thing he did after coming back with a bowl of warm fresh water and a piece of cloth. he’s already dressed in his comfy clothes, carefully cleaning your skin with the warm soft cloth. he’s meticulous, like he always is with everything. you look to the side to see a glass of water and a mini chocolate bar that he’d fetched when he left the room which to be honest, you thought he was gonna leave you, all alone and still fragile. looking out the window, the sky’s already starting to gain its light as it’s starting to look a lighter shade of blue. he’s quiet, eyes focused as only his fingers are moving carefully, cleaning off every inch of your body. just as he makes sure you’re all clean and comfortable, you’re surprised when he crawls up closely beside you, snuggling down as he reaches for the soft comforter to wrap the both of you underneath it.
“i thought you were gonna leave”
“not gonna leave my girlfriend alone”
the name hits you like a boulder making you perk up, eyebrows knitted as you realised that you were never his girlfriend. you turn to face him who’s already near dozing off,
“please go to sleep” he mutters out his last words before dozing off for real, pulling you closer into his arms.
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taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines
dividers by: @rookthornesartistry
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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: A New World {6}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Last race before summer break begins. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, team friction, bad language, fluff WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven
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Belgium Grand Prix Doctor Turner didn’t know where to look. She had started off looking at you but once Charles started to speak her attention was turned and then Lando chimed in too. Her poor neck was straining with flitting back and forth between the three of you sitting across from her desk.
“I think it is the stress,” Lando said as he squeezed your hand.
“I think it is the medication,” Charles countered, a familiar argument brewing. “Things started to change after she started taking it.”
Dr Turner hummed as she made her notes and prompted him for more as he fell silent. “Changes such as?”
You zoned out of the conversation. The whole appointment was a result of the family meeting they had called and the information was nothing new to you. You were moody, you were tired, you were hungry. Charles had been the one to suggest it was the hormones from the contraception. He had even gone so far as to unfold the very, very large sheet of side effect information hidden in the box. 
“-and her weight.”
“Thanks, Charles. Love you too,” you muttered.
“Not like that, chérie,” he said as he turned to face you, cupping your cheek gently. “You are beautiful and I love your body, but you are training a lot harder with Kristian to maintain your race weight and you didn’t have to do that before.”
That much was true. The team had even stopped putting sandbags in the car for testing since the car was no longer underweight. You had thought your fireproofs had shrunk in the wash when you pulled them on in Hungary last weekend and the sleeves had cut into your wrists. There’s skintight and then there’s skintight.
​​”Those were all possibilities we discussed at the time,” Dr Turner said with a nod. “They are quite common with hormonal contraceptives so you likely wouldn’t find any change with the alternative options like the injection or the rods.”
“See, told you this was pointless. I just have to deal with it.”
“Or you could stop taking them,” Lando suggested. 
“Given the choice…you want to go back to condoms?”
“As much as we enjoy the benefits, it’s not worth it if this is the cost,” Charles answered for the both of them. “Just stop taking the pills for a while and see how you feel.”
You sighed with defeat but you accepted the plan with a nod. “At least I’m stressed enough that there’ll still be no periods. Yay for me.”
Lando snorted a laugh at your sarcasm but Charles didn’t find the humour as he shook his head and thanked Dr Turner for fitting us into her busy schedule. It wasn’t as busy as yours since you needed to get to Côte d'Azur Airport to catch a ride with Max to Belgium, you and half the grid apparently.
“Well that was a waste of time, and now we need to go shopping for condoms,” you muttered as you left her office and got in your car. “Do you think Costco sells them in bulk boxes?”
“I am not buying cheap Kirkland branded condoms,” Lando said with a cringe. “Fuck that.”
“You also said you would never do dry July but here we are,” you pointed out.
“Except for that one night after Silverstone,” Charles added as he started the car.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m not risking anything less than Durex. I’d rather trust myself to pull out.”
You looked at Charles in the rearview mirror before you both broke out in a fit of laughter as you shook your heads at the idea. 
Lando was offended.
“Hey,” he called as he turned in his seat to look at you. “I could pull out if I wanted to.”
“You’re lucky you’re handsome, because you can’t lie to save your life.”
“We both know how it is when you hit that sweet spot, mon cher,” Charles said as he reached across the gearbox and rested his hand on Lando’s thigh. “It’s too good to resist staying buried in her.”
“I said I could if I wanted to, not that I would or want to.”
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By the time you arrived at the airport, and hustled your way through security, you found Max, Daniel and Pierre already seated on the plane and pointed to other empty seats. “Are you expecting the rest of the grid or what?”
“At the rate you're collecting them, maybe,” Max joked. 
You laughed and dropped into the seat opposite your brother, kicking your feet up on his armrest. “You can’t say shit like that in front of Pierre, he gets far too excited. He might even wet your carpet.”
Pierre looked up from his phone and you could tell from the smile on his face that he had been busy texting Kika before he realised what you had said and his lips pouted. “You make me sound like a puppy.”
“Nawww, I wish you had that level of obedience, Gasly.” Your feet were roughly shoved off the seat and you narrowed your eyes at the culprit as the plane began to taxi to the runway. 
“Safety first, zusje, haven’t you read the pamphlet?”
“Why would I do that?” you scoffed as you buckled the belt in. Charles was doing the same where he sat across from Pierre and Lando was next to Daniel. “If something happens at 36,000 feet, bracing isn’t going to save me. Now, are there any stroopwafels on board this thing or do I have to wait another two hours? I'm starving.”
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“The last two races have seen a big drop in performance for both you and Lance, and only a few points added to the tally, and now - failing to finish the sprint with that crash. Is this something the team is looking into?”
You wanted to ask if the Sky Sports reporter had a brain cell but took a steadying breath instead and nodded. “Mhmm.”
“So what is Aston Martin doing to get back up where you were competing earlier in the season and what are your hopes for the race tomorrow starting 9th on the grid?”
“We are doing what is always done: look at the data, continue the upgrades, and keep pushing. Same goes for the race, I’ll try my hardest to make up some places and avoid the gravel. I’m usually good at getting off the start line, the car is great for short acceleration so if I see a gap I’ll be going for it. Plus, you know how turn one goes - that might make my job easier if the boys up ahead get greedy.”
“Speaking of boys, this time last year you were heading into the summer break looking for love. What’s the plan this year?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’ll take Max’s advice and adopt a couple of cats this time.” You laughed as Lando and Charles turned to you from their spots in the media pen. “Is that a yes…no…maybe? Oh, that’s their ‘we will talk about this later’ face. I’m going to go now before I get into trouble.”
The smile you had been holding onto fell away as you stepped into the Aston Martin hospitality building and you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before you navigated your way to your room. You almost made it there with no interactions, until your fellow driver caught up and clipped your shoulder as he passed by to his room.
Still annoyed at the reporter, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and turned to him. “What’s your problem?”
“You almost had points and you threw them away. That’s what.”
“I spun out, Lance,” you sighed, already exhausted with where the conversation was heading. “It’s wet and it’s Spa, it's easy to have an accident. It’s not like I saw you up there earning any of them.”
“It’s not my seat that’s on the line though,” he stated. 
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s just the truth.” His lips curved into the pretentious smile you hadn’t noticed when you joined the team, but it had become irksome to see grow over time. “My seat is secure.”
“If that were true you wouldn’t be wasting your time hassling me over whatever issue you’ve made up in your head.” You enjoyed watching that smile fade. 
“I don’t have an issue with you.”
“Then you feel threatened by me,” you said with a casual shrug. “It’s basic biology, animals attack when they feel in danger.”
“You should do something about that big ego of yours.”
“It’s big like my dick,” you said as you turned the door handle and shoved it open, “so choke on it.”
“Bitch.”
You gasped theatrically as you paused in the doorway. “Lance Strulovitch, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“Did I offend you?” 
Your laugh started as a tickle in your throat before your lips peeled back and bared your teeth at him. “Sticks and stones, baby, I kind of like it.”
Realising he wasn't going to get the reaction he wanted from you, he shook his head and stepped away. “You’re all kinds of messed up.”
“Thanks for the assessment, Freud.” You slammed the door shut before he could give a response and screamed as you threw your bottle at the body that suddenly appeared. “Jesus, fuck.”
“Nope, just me,” Max chuckled as he rose from the chair that had been hidden by the door. “Nice to see you get along with your team mate too.”
“Oh that, that was just a friendly sparring match. Nothing to worry about.”
“I did warn you, zusje.”
“Yeah, yeah, you love to say I told you so,” you drawled as you grabbed your drink bottle from the floor and cracked it open. “Anyway, what are you doing, hiding in here acting like the godfather?”
“Our mothers have been conspiring again,” he said with a fond smile. “Family dinner tomorrow night after the race.”
“Won’t you have a winner’s after party planned?”
“I don’t think my liver could handle another one so soon.”
“Serves you right,” you snickered as he opened the door. “Wait, can Pascale, Adam and Cisca come too?”
“I said family dinner, didn’t I? They’re pretty much your in-laws.” He pointed to your table and you followed his finger to see a box overflowing with stroopwafels. “Is that enough or should I get some more for the flight home?”
You grinned as you grabbed one and tore through the packaging, talking with a mouthful. “I thought I was walking?”
“With those manners, you should be.” He started to close the door but changed his mind and stepped back in to pull you into a hug. “I’m glad you didn’t hit the barriers, zusje. Drive safe tomorrow.”
You nodded against his shoulder as you hugged him back.
It was only two days earlier that you ran the track with Pierre in memory of his friend, Anthione, and only five weeks before that another driver had lost his life on the track too. You hadn’t been thinking about that when you spun out, it wasn’t like it was anything close to what Lando did two years ago. 
But your brother would always worry about you.
“You too, Maxy.”
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Fifth was the best you could do in the end but for once you weren’t weighed down by the result.
You sat beside Max, sipping from a glass of lemonade that should have been a gin and tonic, and smiled at the story he animatedly recalled from the race. On your other side was Charles, his dimples deepening as Max praised him for the perfect overtake he had made on Lewis to clench third place. Beside him, Lando was grinning proudly and draped his arm over Charles’ shoulder, his fingertips teasing your collarbone.
Your parents lined the other side of the table and you scanned their faces while they were engrossed with the story, not as accustomed to Maxsplaining as you and the other drivers were. No one would have ever thought that the parents of a Red Bull, a McLaren, a Ferrari and an Aston Martin driver would all come together and support them all equally. But there they were. One big happy family.
Click here for the next part.
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bangtanficsforyou · 1 year
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Vérités Cachées (JJK)
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.
Summary: You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.
Genre: fluff, mild angst, smut.
Word count: 8K (it was supposed to be a 1K drabble)
Warnings: steamy stuff, or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng p in v s^x, mild d^^ty talk if it counts, s^x out in the wild (against a tree to be very specific) (p.s: it feels so awkward writing it with all the '^' but idk man apparently Tumblr flags it or something otherwise? And I have seen other writers do the same, so yeah)
Based on this request.
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Masterlist
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If you enjoy my writing consider supporting my patreon!
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Faster. Just a little bit faster. 
"Stop."
The leaves scrunch underneath your feet as you try to work them as fast as you possibly can. 
"Stop!"
You have lost track of how long you have been running. All you know is that your knees feel weak and they are this close to giving out. 
But you cannot stop. 
"Y/N, stop."
No matter what you do Y/N, do not stop. 
Your lungs beg you to take a break and let them have their share of oxygen. Your throat runs dry and the saliva you have been gulping a little too frequently is just not enough anymore. These things should have been enough of a sign for you to realise that even if you willfully don't give up, your body will. 
And that is exactly what happens the very next moment. 
You feel a sharp pain in your left leg. The muscles cramp in protest and make it impossible for you to keep your pace up. You falter and somehow limp to lean against a tree for support. 
Your mind goes to lactic acid and how lack of oxygen can have your muscles doing anaerobic breakdown. Geez, you should have gone to the gym and have been a little more familiar with physical exercises. Maybe then your body wouldn't have burnt out this easily. 
You try to move your legs and examine the damage. The good thing is the cramp doesn't seem severe, the discomfort should be gone soon. The bad news is, for the recovery to be fast, you need to take deep breaths and relax for the lactic acid to be washed from your system.
All these calculative thoughts are brought to a stop when you hear footsteps approaching. Shit. 
You bend down and take hold of a piece of rock, the only thing available that can be used as a weapon. 
"Y/N," a breathy voice reaches your ears and a figure soon comes into sight. 
The figure happens to be of someone you know very well. Jungkook's. Your boyfriend.
Which is the absolute worst part. 
The man comes closer to you with his eyes locked on yours and you notice the fury in them.
A shiver runs down your spine and you raise the stone in a threatening manner. "You come one step closer and I'll hit you with this."
The man doesn't react in any manner. Almost as if the words don't register, as if he's in a world of his own. 
He doesn't stop walking towards you which makes you hold the piece of rock firmly, ready to aim. However, he suddenly is a little too close to you and with one flick of his hand, he manages to throw your so-called weapon to the ground, leaving you defenceless. 
You don't even try to hide how terrified you feel like this, all weaponless against something you don't even properly know what it is. 
You're about to plead for your life when he speaks. 
"Are you okay?" 
The voice. Even the voice is an exact replica of Jungkook's. Whatever this man is, he sure as hell is dangerous if he can imitate a person this flawlessly. Lord knows what other tricks he has up his sleeves. 
You don't answer his question for you know he could possibly not have any interest in your well-being. 
"What are you? Why are you chasing me?" 
Something about your shaky voice has a visible effect on him and he puts a little distance between the two of you. It's enough for you to release the breath you were holding but you also don't miss how he keeps a close eye on your movements for any time you try to escape. 
"I–I am Jungkook," the man speaks and despite the stutter in his words, he speaks with confidence. 
You manage a weak scoff. "As if I'd ever believe that. Do you think I didn't see? You think you can fool me?"
"What did you see?" His senses go full-on alert.
"I know–" you look away from the man in fear when the scene replays in your mind, "–I know you are no ordinary human. You're a beast."
You don't know what happens next, for there's a pause. A pause, that is long enough for you to hope that he's gone. You would have liked to check if your assumptions were right had you not been this scared to open your eyes. 
However, you do not have to keep guessing for much longer, for moments later there's a hand being placed under your chin, which slowly and gently guides you to turn your head towards the man.
"Open your eyes."
Initially, you don't oblige. You keep your eyes tightly shut. But as the silence lingers and the hand under your chin refuses to leave, you open your left eye to take a peek. 
All you see is the man looking at you with the same intense gaze, something burning bright behind those orbs that intimidates you to no end. Aside from that, you also deduce that he's not in the mood of giving up. He seemingly wants to talk to you or worse, wants to do something to you and is willing to wait for it. 
You think it's rather wise to cooperate with him while he's still calm and patient. Maybe that way, you'll be able to fool him and while given the chance, make an escape. That way you will also buy yourself time for your muscles to relax and recover.
You slowly open your eyes, apprehensive of what he might do next. 
He only repeats his previous statement. "I need you to believe me when I say, I'm Jungkook. The same Jungkook you have known for so long."
You know you shouldn't argue with him. You're in no position to take the risk of igniting a fire you know you'll not be able to put off. But despite your logical reasoning, you feel deeply irked with this man's audacity to claim he's Jungkook. Just how dare he? 
Against, your better judgement, all thoughts of cooperating with the man are forgotten.
"I do not believe you for a second." 
"I don't blame you for it. But I need you to give me the time to explain myself," he speaks in the same calm, confident tone. "Stop panicking, I won't cause you any harm–"
"What are you?" You interrupt him, mid-sentence, knowing you need to have some idea of what he is for you to consider his words of not harming you, seriously. 
For the first time, he looks away, "I'm a werewolf." 
Werewolf. So now you know, what this man is. 
You search your brain for all the information that you have ever come across about werewolves. How dangerous are they? Do they eat human flesh? Do they murder people? 
The more you come up with questions and their respective answers, you realise that none of these answers are reliable for all you know about werewolves are solely based on fictional books or movies. There's no guarantee that anything these movies and books portray is anything barely similar to the way a real werewolf is.
How can it be anything close to the real thing, when werewolves were supposed to be completely fictional? Heck, you wouldn't have believed it had you not seen it yourself. 
You sigh when you realise despite now having the crucial information about him, you literally know nothing. You are still as vulnerable as you were before. 
"Can I speak now?" 
You look at him and reply with a nod. You may not know how reliable his promise of safety is but as long he's talking, you're safe.
"I don't mean to cause you any harm, I'd never. I understand why you're so scared but let me...let me just explain."
You nod again, urging him to speak. 
"Some werewolves, like me, live among humans considering that there isn't much forest left in these areas and if we were to move to rural places, it would cause a problem for the werewolves living there. It also increases the chances of gaining unnecessary attention.
I have always lived quietly and never interacted with humans unless necessary. But I had to join the company because apparently there was a documentary on werewolves being made which had footage of real werewolves. A few of us were assigned the job to stop the documentary from being made available to the public."
As a journalist, if there's one thing you have learned over the years, it's the ability to tell when a person is lying. And somehow according to your analysis, he isn't. 
However, you shoot that thought down telling yourself he's not a human. He's a werewolf, lord knows what they can do. You're used to interacting with people who lie, not with supernatural beings. 
"If I had to get a hold of the files and clips, I had to interact with people. I had to get friendly with them and had to get as much information as I could. Which is how I started talking to you."
The mention catches your attention. 
"I was not supposed to fall for you but I did. I did not realise that at some point I had started talking to you not in order to get information out but because I genuinely wanted to. I looked forward to meeting you, talking to you and spending time with you. I fell for you when I was not supposed to.
Falling was a different thing but dating was a whole other story. I simply, simply did not know how to tell you the truth. When we started dating, I was far too deep. I wanted to call you mine and take you places but at the same time, there was this guilt gnawing at me for hiding my true nature from you. 
However, when you said that you were in love with me, that was the day that I decided I would do whatever it takes to protect us. Even if it means not telling you the truth." 
The man stops, probably done with what he had to say. However, you find his words extremely suspicious. How can you not? The man you have known and loved for a whole year, suddenly turns out to be a werewolf? As if you wouldn't have caught it sooner had it been the case. 
You try to move your leg a little to check the condition of your cramp but you make sure that your movements are subtle so that it doesn't catch his attention. You find a bit of relief when you realise that the majority of the pain has subsided.
"Let's say what you're saying is true, how come I have never caught you before?" 
"We werewolves do not shift that much. Irrespective of what TVs and films may have made you believe, we do not turn into a wolf against our wishes on a full moon night. If we do change into a wolf, it's only when we want and choose to do so."
You furrow your brows. "You mean you chose to turn into a wolf today? It wasn't an accident?"
He nods. "I booked a vacation in the middle of a forest because it is comforting for the wolf in me to be here. I wanted to just turn into a wolf and go around for a stroll. Never did I think you'd end up seeing me in the middle of a transformation."
You look away when you realise he's done answering. You need to come up with another question, something, anything to keep him occup–
"You do not believe me." 
His words catch you by surprise and you gulp in fear. You cannot let him know that you're not playing whatever game he's playing, who knows it might just make him lose his cool. You can't have that. It's better to play dumb. 
"That's not true, I am just trying to piece the puzzle together."
The man scoffs with a small chuckle. "You think I can't tell when you lie? I've known you for a long enough time to be able to do that." 
Oh shit. 
"I understand that you're in total disbelief. As if learning werewolves exist wasn't enough, you also learnt your... boyfriend is one. That can't be easy." 
You still do not believe his words but nod nevertheless. 
He gently puts your hands in his and his thumb fiddles with the promise ring that Jungkook had given you. 
That's weird. Jungkook used to do that whenever he was nervous and needed to calm down. 
No, no, no. Just because he is fiddling with your promise ring doesn't mean he's Jungkook. He can't be. 
You withdraw your hand from his and look at him with a determination that you didn't have before, a little annoyed with yourself for considering the possibility that this man might just be Jungkook. "I do not know who you are and what you want from me but I know one thing and that is, you're not Jungkook." 
"What can I do to make you believe me?" 
You shake your head vigorously. "You cannot be Jungkook. My Jungkook is gentle, sweet, and caring. You seemed so scary, my Jungkook is not like that." 
"Please look at me," after your withdrawal from him, he does not choose to make you look at him. He realises that irrespective of how gentle he might have been, you may still be uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, you do look at him even if it's after, what seemed to be a moment of contemplation. "I am so sorry that you had to find out this way. But I promise despite my appearance as a wolf, I am still the same Jungkook you know. There's nothing that you don't know about me."
Something about his eyes makes it impossible for you to look away. Maybe it's just the strong emotion that shines through his orbs but for the first time, you notice that his eyes aren't filled with fury. 
Out of both curiosity and anxiety, you keep your eyes fixed on his' to understand what exactly is it he's feeling. 
A few moments later, you still keep looking. Not because you can't figure out the emotion being reflected in his orbs but rather because you can and you think it simply cannot be so. You must be seeing it wrong. Because what you see is......fear. A lot of fear. He's terrified. 
But that can't be it. Why would a werewolf who's been filled with fury, suddenly be so scared? Unless...unless, he wasn't furious in the first place and it was your fight or flight mode that had made it look like he was furious. 
Does that mean he has been terrified from the very beginning? 
"What...what do you want from me?" Your question comes from a place of confusion. So far you had been under the assumption that this man wants to harm you. But if that were the case, why is he so scared? Things aren't adding up! 
"I just want you to realise that I'm Jungkook." 
His words play on repeat in your mind. That's the only thing he's been claiming since the beginning, that he is Jungkook. 
"Why would Jungk–No, Jungkook would have told me if he was a werewolf. He would have never kept it hidden." 
"Maybe Jungkook was too scared that he'd lose you and you'd stop seeing him with love. That the love and adoration you have for him will turn into fear."
He looks like his whole world is falling apart and he's barely holding on. 
Fear. This is the source of his fear. This is exactly what he's been so terrified of.
You frown in a state of confusion that turns out to be painful for you. Could this man really be Jungkook? Is Jungkook, him? Are they the same person? 
"Would it be so bad if Jungkook were to be a werewolf?" The question is asked softly, a little too softly for your liking and your head spins as it only confuses you even further for you once again, entertain the possibility.
Jungkook. Your sweet, cute, bunny-eyed Jungkook whom you love so much, is a werewolf? It's absurd because you still can't make peace with the fact that werewolves are real. But if it is the Jungkook you know and have grown to love, would it matter? You don't think so. But it's not a question of whether Jungkook is a werewolf. Right now, it's a question about whether this man, who's a werewolf, is Jungkook. 
You calmly go through everything he has said so far. Him, joining the company because he had to stop a documentary from being released, which could threaten the truth about werewolves being released to the common public. You recall how he was when he joined, he was distant, and his conversations looked forced as if he was doing it because he doesn't have any other choice. Or the way he was a little too curious about the itsy bitsy details, that no one else paid mind to. Even the time you had found him going through a series of tapes from the office room. Could it all be because he was trying to gather information about the documentary? Could he be saying the truth?  
"What happened to the documentary then, did you get a hold of it?" 
The man shakes his head. "As it turns out, no such documentary existed in the first place. It was just a rumour which had gotten out of hand." 
You immediately shoot him with another question. "Why then, are you still working in our company?" 
He chews on the inside of his cheeks, contemplating if you'd even believe his answer. "Because of you." 
Something entirely unexpected happens. Your heart skips a beat. In the midst of all the confusion and fear, your traitor heart skips a beat! 
You immediately scold yourself for it. What if he's lying to you? What if he's not actually Jungkook?
But, the way he's looking at you....it's the same way Jungkook looks at you. How can it feel like Jungkook if he's not Jungkook? This man could be lying and pulling stories out of his ass but his eyes? What do they say about eyes being the window to the soul? If so, why does it remind you of Jungkook so much? 
You shut your eyes close tightly and ask him a question as your last resort. "Tell me something only Jungkook would know."
It doesn't even take him a second and words come pouring out of his mouth. "You like your noodles a little less boiled because that's the way your mom cooked them. You like it when it rains because the weather comforts you. You enjoy it when I play with your hair because you find it soothing. You haven't talked to your brother for months after that fight even though you really want to. You have a little scar on your thighs from the time–"
"You're Jungkook," you whisper to yourself, finding your walls crumbling and your guard lowering. There's no way anyone except Jungkook would know these things. 
Jungkook is hit with a tremendous wave of relief which you do not miss. His body visibly reacts as if a huge bag of stone has been lifted off his shoulders.
"I am Jungkook," he whispers back, repeating your words to confirm what you have just said. As if he cannot believe that he has managed to make you trust him. "I am sorry you had to find out this way,"
"You really are a werewolf? You always have been a werewolf? Every time we have talked, you were a werewolf?" 
Your set of questions causes Jungkook to get nervous again and he takes a step back. Now feeling sure that you won't try to run away from him, he only manages a weak nod as an answer to all of your questions.  
"Wow," your mouth forms an 'o' as you let all of it sink in. Jungkook is a werewolf. Your Jungkook is a werewolf. "I wish you had told me sooner."
"I was so scared I'd lose you," he mutters, his voice wavering, all the confidence and firmness he was showing before, now gone. It's only now that your previous thoughts are confirmed that he's been this scared from the very beginning and you realise his confidence was merely a facade to calm you down. "You being scared of me is an absolute nightmare." 
You don't speak for a moment. Now that you feel like you aren't in danger, you take a few seconds to observe him. He is nervous, that much is obvious. But it's the little details about him that call for your attention. You know how he avoids eye contact when he feels small, you know how he runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek when he feels annoyed with himself and you know how he craves to have some part of his body to be in touch with yours because it grounds him. His clenched fists are a sign enough, that he wants to hold onto you, but is resorting with every fibre of his being.
Looking at him now, you wonder how you had not noticed these things before. How you could, even for a moment, think that he was not Jungkook. It's him, everything about him is Jungkook. 
He is Jungkook. Your Jungkook. 
You take a step towards him, to reduce the distance he had put between the two of you. 
"I think the fact that you're a werewolf hasn't quite sunk in, a part of me still is in disbelief," you place your palms against his cheeks and hold his face gently. "But something in my heart tells me you're my Jungkook and that's all that matters. Werewolf, vampire, human, I don't care."
Jungkook closes his eyes and releases a shaky exhale. "Can I hug you?"
You wrap your arms around him and let your head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat washes away any remaining doubts or anxiety you might have had as you relax in his warmth that is so familiar. 
Jungkook goes completely limp in your hold as he too wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. He lets go of all the tension in his body and the both of you stand there in the middle of a forest embracing each other. 
You would have liked to stay like that a little longer but a sniffle from Jungkook makes you break the embrace. You look at him to find his eyes misty. Jungkook saves you from asking the reason behind his watery eyes, as he himself tells you. 
"I thought you wouldn't believe me and that you'd find me disgusting and unappealing," he confesses. "I didn't know what to do to make you see that I'm the same Jungkook. The way you were scared, scared me." 
You run your fingers through his hair, knowing it has a soothing effect on him as well. "When I saw you transforming, I was scared but it was because I never even imagined that it was you. I thought it was some scary supernatural being that wanted to harm me."
"And you're not disgusted to know that I am, in a way, partially a wolf?" 
The way his voice sounds so small and unsure pulls at your heartstrings and urges you to comfort him. Placing a soft peck of reassurance, you smile against his lips. "Nah, you're still my cute little baby."
Jungkook looks surprised as he looks at you with wide eyes, not having expected that action from you. You giggle seeing his expression. He's your cute little baby, indeed.
His expression turns into that of shyness and a blush appears on his cheeks. "Could you do that again?" 
You laugh and the very next moment kiss him again. Your lips mould against his as you kiss him gently, silently apologising for scaring him like that. You kiss him with passion in hopes that it eases his anxiety and makes him feel reassured that you still love him the same. 
Jungkook kisses you with a softness that is desperate and needy at the same time. He needs it to fully relax into the fact that you're here, right in front of him and that you haven't left him. He needs to let it sink that you're kissing him with the same amount of love that you always have, that him being a werewolf, doesn't come in the way of your love. 
However, when he feels that reassurance hit him, he pulls you impossibly closer and his kissing starts getting harder. It holds the same amount of desperation, as before but this time Jungkook holds onto you tightly as if he's scared to ever let go of you, again. He feels like he needs to apologise to you, needs to love you better than he did before and most importantly needs to express how incredibly grateful he is for you sticking with him.
He could literally worship you right now. 
A brief fleeting thought occurs in his mind as to what were to happen if he were to get down on his knees and make you scream his name in the middle of this forest? 
That thought is a tell-tale sign that he should pull away, because with each passing second that your lips remain on his', the thought becomes a little less fleeting. 
With a groan that has your heartbeat accelerating, Jungkook pulls away and smiles at you. "We should head back." 
Your breathing had just started to get faster, your chest had just started to heave and the wave of excitement that makes goosebumps rise all over your skin, had just started to take over. The prospect of having Jungkook in a way where he doesn't have to hide himself makes you curious and crave that intimacy.
"We could head back a little later, we have time until it gets dark," you suggest lightly with a shrug. 
Jungkook looks confused at your suggestion. "What do you want to do staying here?"
"I don't know, maybe we could kiss a little more," you suggest with a shy smile on your face. 
"While that does sound nice, I do not think it's a good idea." 
"Why not?"
"Because I might get greedy and end up wanting to do unspeakable things to you," Jungkook reasons, trying to be the voice of logic.
 "Who says I do not want to do that already?" 
There are a million questions in Jungkook's mind. Would you be okay with it, when you were so scared moments ago? Would you be comfortable with it? Would you regret it later?
You get on your tiptoes and press a small kiss on his cheek, having noticed the concern on his face. "I want you, trust me."
"Are you sure?"
You nod with a reassuring smile.
The glint that takes over his eyes, makes a shiver run down your spine. It's a look you have seen plenty of times, one that you're extremely familiar with.
However, you sense he's still hesitant. Taking a step closer, you make the first move and kiss him hard. Starting it slow be damned, you want him to know the desire you hold for him. 
Anything that might have been holding Jungkook back, disappears. He holds you by your waist and pulls you closer. Groaning into your mouth, he bites into your lower lip before capturing it passionately between his lips to soothe any sting the action might have caused. 
Your desire increases and you gently prod his lips with your tongue, eagerly waiting for him to let you in. As soon as he does, you could not be more delighted, something which is made extremely obvious by how excitedly your tongue greets Jungkook's. 
There's no battle of dominance. Rather, both of your tongues entangle together as if dancing to their favourite song.
Your body starts to feel hot and you keep feeling the need to have him closer. When you part your mouth from his, it's not because you've run out of air, it's because you need to feel more of him. 
An emotion which Jungkook replicates. 
"You'd need support," his breathy voice reaches your ears. 
"That's what the tree is for," you reply in a tone that's quite similar to that of his. 
"The surface is rough, it'd scratch your back," he reminds you of the consequences of having your back against the tree trunk when you'll be naked later.
"Well you could always offer me your blazer," you counter, with a sultry smile. 
Fuck. 
Having been caught in the middle of turning into a wolf, he had to stop right away. Unfortunately, the fur doesn't disappear immediately. At that point in time, his main priority was not scaring you any further. Hence, Jungkook had grabbed the nearest thing he could find, to put on. Anything that could cover the fur until it disappears. Which so happened to be the black blazer he's now wearing.  
The image that comes to his mind as a result of your words, is one which makes him come to the conclusion that the thoughtless choice of the blazer, is one of the best decisions he has ever made. After you, of course. But if he has to put the blazer to good use, he needs to get you naked first. 
Kissing your neck with newfound vigour, he holds you firmly against himself as his hands start to wander behind your back to find the zipper that serves as the key to get you out of this dress.
Having found it, he wastes no time dragging the chain down and sliding your dress halfway down your shoulders. 
You whimper when the cold air hits your skin, taking you by surprise. He kisses, nibbles and leaves his mark on the newly exposed skin and curses to himself when he realises that you're not wearing a bra. The new discovery entices him to slide the dress even lower so that he can get his mouth on your soft supple breasts. 
His entire mouth dries up when your nipples are revealed and he realises how hard they have been all this while, as if just as eager to get sucked as he is to suck them. Wasting no time he puts your left breast in his mouth while playing with the right one with his other hand. 
"Fuck," you throw your head back at the new sensation and grab a hold of his hair. It's when he sucks a little harshly, that you look at him with eyes filled with pleasure. You notice the deep frown on his face while he plays with your tits and it does something unspeakable to you, it makes you want to skip everything and just have him inside you.
He gives equal amounts of attention to the other breast and then when he feels satisfied with the work of art he's left, he decides it is time to wander lower. 
He slides the dress off further, now exposing your stomach. His palm gently runs across the area and he leaves light kisses on his wake. The sensation makes you sigh for how in contrast they are with his previous demonstrations, which were rather rough and desperate. While these touches are soft and sensual, with a hint of teasing to them. 
Finally sliding the dress all the way down, he looks at you with anticipation in his eyes, "Step out of it." 
You oblige and step out of the dress that now pools around at your feet.  
"The underwear too," Jungkook asks, dying to see you naked. 
You smile a little at his words, understanding that he's getting impatient and you thrive in the thrill of what's to come. You hook your fingers around the band of your underwear and tug it down, getting rid of it. 
Jungkook's pupils dilate seeing every inch of your skin exposed to his eyes.
He experienced the most vulnerable part of him getting exposed and it made him want to crawl inside a hole and never come out. Anything was better than you being scared of him, being disgusted with him or feeling betrayed by him. But here you are, willingly standing naked, right in the middle of a dense forest with eyes filled with want for him. 
The wolf in him feels a deep fire ignite at the sight of you not shying away even though theoretically, anyone could step in at any moment and see the both of you in this compromising position. It assures him that you're not ashamed of him. It makes the beast in him feel accepted. 
Although he would like to have you naked like this a little longer, he reminds himself that he needs to put the blazer on you, for you'd need support for the sinful things he wishes to do to you and truth be told, he cannot hold himself back any longer. 
Removing the piece of garment, he drapes it on you. Taking a few steps back he curses when he takes in the full view of you in nothing but just a black blazer. His blazer. 
You're a tad bit disappointed when Jungkook closes the distance, for you were enjoying the sight of his glistening chest but your disappointment is gone when you realise this allows you to run your hands all over his body. 
You and Jungkook feel each other like you both are starved of touch and as if it's the air you need to survive. It's also while Jungkook feels every inch of your skin that he slowly and gradually, corners you against the tree, finally having you the way he wants to. 
He litters kisses in a straight line from your neck to your navel and then gets down on his knees. The new position has his face right in front of your sex.
"Please do something," you plead, shivering when his exhale hits your core. 
He merely hums, enjoying the sweet smell of your arousal that hits his senses. Using the tip of his thumbs, he gently parts your folds for your wetness to be revealed. "You smell so sweet, sweetheart." 
"Do you want me to have a taste?" He continues, now locking eyes with you. A soft whimper from you is all he needs to put his mouth on your nether region. 
He doesn't start gently, oh no, he straight away starts drinking all you have to offer as if he's been thirsty for ages. His tongue runs messily all over your insides, sometimes messaging your hole, other times stimulating the bundle of nerves that have you wildly arching your body with pleasure. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant repeatedly, the forest being the only audience of your sinful words. As much as you'd like to drag it out and take it slow, you don't think you'd be able to hold yourself from orgasming any longer. It feels like it's only been a minute since Jungkook started eating you out and you're already about to fall over the edge. But can you really be blamed when Jungkook has gone completely wild with his tongue down there? "Shit, I'm about to come."
Jungkook slows down. 
His tongue all of a sudden, turns gentle, languidly cleaning up your arousal but somehow still holding the same amount of passion as before. 
You're not complaining but the switch of pace has you craving more, because you oh so desperately, need to cum. "I need to cum, Jungkook."
"Not yet, sweetheart, I need your cunt on my mouth for a little longer," he whispers, his words which practically vibrate against your folds. 
The words are on the tip of your tongue as to how he could have just started slow and gradually built the pace, rather than snatching away your high right when you were about to hit it. However, you keep the words to yourself when you realise just how much Jungkook is enjoying softly lapping at your essence as if it's his favourite treat. It also doesn't take your body long to forget the stolen high and to start enjoying the slow pace. This time instead of wild loud moans, soft gasps and broken whimpers leave your lips. 
You know Jungkook is teasing you, he likes doing that. He likes giving you pleasure in a way, which with time gets a little too much and which has you begging for relief of any sort. It's not like you cannot cum like this, you can. After all, Jungkook is a little too good with his mouth but if you let go this way, the pleasure will be one that will hit you in the form of gentle waves. However, what you crave is a wave that hits you at once like a tsunami. 
Hence, you beg. "Don't be gentle. Make me cum. Hard."
Your words are desperate, a plea to Jungkook for you will lose your mind if he doesn't let you have your relief. And that's all Jungkook wanted, for you to beg in a helpless voice. Feeling satisfied, he sucks on your clit harshly. To add to your pleasure he inserts two fingers and pumps them in and out at a slow pace until you get adjusted. Once you seem to have no difficulty with his fingers, he starts a ruthless pace, one which has you seeing stars. 
While he fingers you with one hand, his other shimmies up and slides underneath the blazer to play with your tits. He squeezes your tits to his heart's content and pinches your nipples until your eyes roll back. 
Your head thrashes wildly and you grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck, you feel so good."
Jungkook has a bit of a dirty mouth. One which you clearly enjoy. And there's so much he wishes to say right now. He wants to tell you how sweet your cunt tastes, how tightly it's clamped around his fingers and what a sight you're from down here. But he cannot afford to not have his mouth on you, while you cum. That'd be such a waste. And if he were to go by the way your hole clenches around his fingers like a fucking vice, you're close. It only motivates him to increase his pace. 
That paired with the stimulation he provides on your clit and your tits, has your whole body heating up and the very next moment it all explodes. You cry out loudly, and your grip on his hair tightens even more as the wave hits you like a tsunami, making you lose all control over your senses. All you feel is the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.
Jungkook smiles against your cunt at the way you fall apart, thinking to himself, you for sure would have lost your balance had it not been for the tree you lean against.
He helps you ride your high and once you seem to have caught your breath, he places a few more kitten-like kisses before getting up on his feet. 
You feel weak but you cannot not kiss him with everything that you have got in you. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips when you're greeted with your essence and it urges you to have a taste of him.
Your hands find their way to his belt and you attempt to unbuckle it. Jungkook chuckles against your mouth, noticing how your hurried actions, instead of getting the job done quickly, lead to you messily fumbling with the belt. Taking matters into his own hands, he stops kissing you for a brief moment to get rid of the belt himself. 
"Fuck, thank you," that's all you say before roughly tugging his trousers down.
Your mouth practically salivates at the sight of his hard length that begs to be free from the confinement of his boxers. The dark wet patch against the piece of clothing serves as an invitation for you.
Thankfully, you do not have to put your patience to the test to get rid of his boxers. It's done swiftly without much struggle causing his length to spring out. You immediately have your hands on him. Collecting the precum from the tip, you rub it all over his length. 
Jungkook groans right next to your ears, his breathing accelerates the more you run your hands on his cock. "Yes, baby, just like that."
You feel his tip leak more beads of precum and it adds to your desire of having a taste of him. "I need to have you in my mouth."
Jungkook stops you before you can get down on your knees. His lust-filled eyes, spark with a shred of amusement. "You will hurt your knees, baby."
It's only then that you are reminded of the fact that you're in a forest and that you indeed will end up hurting your knees if you were to get down on them on the forest floor. 
"Then fuck me," you say with a gruff, a tad bit annoyed that you cannot have what you want, at this very moment.
"That I will," Jungkook chuckles darkly. Saying so, he presses his length against your folds. "Do you know how wet your pussy is?"
"Why don't you do something about it?" You mewl softly, enticing him to just fuck you rough and hard. 
"Oh don't worry, darling, you won't be able to walk after this," he promises.
It isn't just his words that affect you, it's also the way he's looking at you. You have noticed there's something more carnal about him today and if you're not wrong it has everything to do with him not having to hide anymore. It's him expressing his need without having to hold anything back, now that he knows he's accepted and loved wholly. 
"I'd like that very much." The sultry, seductive tone is intentional for you know that Jungkook plans on teasing you. But you cannot wait any further. You need to have him inside you now and you only wish you can make him as impatient as you. However, Jungkook seems to have understood what you're trying to do. It's not to say that your tactic doesn't work, it does. He starts rubbing himself against you faster but he's not willing to give in, just yet. 
You make another attempt by pinching his nipples. In the various occasions that you've been intimate with Jungkook, you've learnt that those two buds are perhaps the most sensitive spot for him.
It's once again proved right when he lets out a low growl and the next thing you know he's pushing his cock inside you. "You couldn't wait a bit longer, could you?" 
"When it comes to you, I do have a habit of becoming impatient," your voice comes out hoarse, the pleasure from having his length inside you clouding your senses. You just feel so full. 
Jungkook hums in approval and once you give him the green signal, he builds up a slow and steady pace. 
"Fuck baby, your cunt is so tight," the words are whispered against your neck, as you feel Jungkook gradually set up a brutal speed. 
You tug on his hair harshly to get a grip on reality as your vision starts to blur. You whimper, wail, scream and cry his name repeatedly, all of which fuels Jungkook to go faster and deeper. 
He notices the lightheaded look in your eyes and swiftly hooks his arms around your thighs to lift you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and secure your position. 
The effects of your previous orgasm hasn't completely faded yet and from this angle, his dick hits the golden spot which makes your high approach faster than you had anticipated. 
"Jungkook, I'm gonna cum," the words are broken and breathless. 
The new information earns a few slow determined thrusts from him, before he speeds up again. His forehead touches yours and you feel the sweat that has built up on his skin. You notice the way he is so focused on your pleasure, on every moan that escapes your lips and every expression on your face. 
It all gets to the point where you can't hold yourself back anymore. Throwing your head back, you reach another high and hold to any part of Jungkook that you can to hold onto your sanity. 
"Baby your pussy just got so tight," he speaks in a hushed voice, the fucked out look in your eyes and the essence that he feels on his cock, as an after-effect of your orgasm, now making him chase his high.
"Cum inside me, please," you say in a weak voice, your cunt still convulsing. 
"You know I'm a werewolf right?" He queries, with a dark look in his eyes. Receiving a nod from you, he speaks again, "Do you know what that makes you?"
"My mate."
That's the only warning you get before he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The sound of skin slapping makes you dizzy and you feel so desperate to feel him spill inside you. Thankfully, it takes a few more thrusts before he paints your insides with ropes of thick cum. 
You both stay in that position, foreheads resting against each other as you breathe heavily, feeling totally spent. 
"That was something," you mumble when you seem to have regained enough energy to speak.
"That was intense," Jungkook agrees, removing the strands of hair that had fallen on your face.
"I enjoyed it though," you smile up at him, finding it kind of silly how you ended up getting railed against a tree from running for your life. 
As he slowly feels himself coming down from his high, he feels the disbelief resurface again. Did he just fuck you after you found out he's a werewolf? And you just let him and confessed to enjoying it? And are you still here looking up at him with those bright eyes? 
"You're unreal," he sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling your sweet scent. 
"You're the one who's a werewolf and you are telling me, I am unreal?" Your brows quirk up as you tease him.
"I–It's just unbelievable that you're still here–"
"So a good round of fucking wasn't enough for you to believe that I'm here?" Your words earn a small chuckle from him which soon turns into a warm smile when you place a kiss on his jaw. "There's never gonna be a good enough reason for me to stop loving you, Jungkook."
"I promise I'll never hide anything from you again," his nose gently rubs against yours.
"I hope you don't ever feel the need to," you hum. "But for now, you need to do me a favour and carry me on your back."
"Told you, you won't be able to walk after," he winks, with a proud look. 
"That and the fact that I got a cramp due to all that running."
His worry is immediate. "You got a cramp? Why didn't you tell me? Shit, did I hurt you while having sex?"
"Nope, it didn't cause much trouble," you shake your head to ease him. It's the truth, the cramp doesn't seem to have had much of an affect. It's only when you try to stretch you legs, that it causes the slightest of sting. 
"Let's head back, I'll massage the area for you, that should help," he comments as he quickly starts collecting the clothes that you two have dropped on the ground without a care. 
Once he has his trousers back in place and has collected everything that is needed, he asks you to hold the clothes. Then swiftly, in the blink of an eye, he is picking you up in bridal style. A surprised gasp escapes your lips but it soon turns into giggles when you realise that Jungkook's upper half is still unclothed and you get exclusive access to it on your way back. 
"Walk slow, take as much time you need," you quip, your hands slowly and dramatically inching closer to his chest. 
He rolls his eyes, pretending to be done with your silly behaviour when in reality, it's one of the things that he so dearly loves about you. 
He knows you tend to get sleepy after sex and the only reason you're being this talkative and playful, when your body is probably trying to doze off, is because you want him to be at ease. You know him a little too well and know that in your silence, he will probably overthink again. Its not just your words and touchy hands but it's also this unspoken thoughtful gesture, that makes Jungkook finally relax and let go of the notion that you'll regret or change your views about him.
Oh, how dearly he loves you. 
Bless whoever had started the rumour about the documentary. Had it not been for them, he would not have you in his arms right now, making him feel like the luckiest man alive.
Gosh, he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with you.
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httpiastri · 1 month
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more than enough – jmm21
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you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.
genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort
pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya
warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk
word count: 2.6k
author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)
this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.
also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)
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"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"
the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"
pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"
"i must've forgotten to tell you."
"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"
"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."
"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"
you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."
the biggest understatement of the year.
you hate your birthday.
for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.
you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.
it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.
you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.
"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."
your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.
the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."
you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."
he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."
"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"
to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."
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"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.
your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.
"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."
"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.
pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."
nora snorts. "what? of course she does."
"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."
pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.
but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.
"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"
"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"
"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.
pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."
nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."
"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."
"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."
you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."
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pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.
but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.
most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.
pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.
his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.
the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.
pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.
he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."
it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-
the cake on his lap.
you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...
but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.
pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.
he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.
"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"
you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."
he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.
"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"
pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.
he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.
hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.
but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.
baby steps.
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"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"
he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.
"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."
"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."
birthday? eleven.
the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.
"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."
"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"
you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"
"ooh, garlic! thank you!"
pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"
"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."
you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.
"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."
"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."
"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."
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cottonlemonade · 5 months
Text
How You Met
word count: 873 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Osamu x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: spoilers
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The convenience store you chose was tiny, as they all were, with narrow rows of sweets, snacks and ramen packed tightly together. Grabbing a bag of dog treats and your favorite sour gummies, you wanted to turn to the prepared food section only to bump into someone. “I’m so sorry”, you said automatically and looked up. The guy you had run into was very tall and wore a cap with a simple logo of what seemed to be an onigiri. “No worries. No harm done.”, he said and gave a friendly smile.
You both tried to pass each other but always managed to step in each other’s way, laughing awkwardly. You reached out to hold him gently in place, navigating yourself past him. Before you rounded the corner to the next section you threw a glance over your shoulder and found him smiling after you. Making your way to the cooler you zeroed in on a sandwich and milk, but when you tried to open the door to the fridge, it was stuck. You looked around, making sure no one saw you fail so miserably and gave it another yank. Nothing. You sighed and put your shopping down to use both hands.
The door still didn’t budge. You stretched your neck and rolled your shoulders, ready to mean business and pulled one more time. The door opened with such force that it made you stumble backwards, which was bad enough. But in the process the guy who had obviously come over to help, got hit in the face by the glass.
You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “Oh my god, I am so so sorry. Are you alright?”
Someone behind you two, obviously his friend, started to wheeze with laughter. The gravely injured guy rubbed his nose and complimented you on your timing.
You were beet red and wanted to hide when he gallantly opened the door in one smooth motion and stood there expectantly, apparently waiting for you to choose what you came there for.
After a hurried checkout you left the store and pulled out your phone. With a deep breath you typed a message to your friends detailing the encounter.
Atsumu and Osamu waited for their bus, coffees in hand, one still teasing the other about the swollen nose. The younger twin grinned and took a sip. You had been very cute indeed and if you wouldn't have run away like that he would have liked to talk to you a little more. Maybe invite you to join them for the coffee or to his restaurant. As he was contemplating visiting this part of town more often to take a chance on maybe seeing you again, Atsumu smirked and nodded past his shoulder. "Oh look, it's yer girlfriend."
Osamu turned around and sure enough there was the cute chubby girl from the store, a fox-like dog on your heel, eyes lowered to your phone. When you got closer to the bus stop, you spotted them and for a second, your steps slowed as if to consider fight or flight. You brushed a strand of your (h/c) hair behind your ear, turning bright red again and he couldn't help but smile.
After checking himself with Atsumu, Osamu walked over to you. You sat down on a bench, your groceries being inspected by a curious nose who now that he was approaching, squinted suspiciously.
"Hey.", he said with a smile.
You looked up shyly, "Hi… how is your nose?"
He waved you off. "All good, still attached."
You gave a nervous little chuckle.
"I'm Osamu."
When you just nodded and didn’t reply, he raised his brows expectantly.
"Oh right, I'm y/n."
"Well, it's nice to officially meet ya, y/n-san."
He already couldn't get enough of your blushing smile.
"And who is this?", Osamu asked, kneeling down to be introduced to the dog.
"Oni. Technically short for Onigiri, but to be fair, the demon connection also fits sometimes"
The fox-like dog rolled over, making him coo and draw gentle circles on the white tummy.
"You'll have to excuse her, she doesn't get much love at home.", you sighed dramatically, making him snort. What followed were questions like "Where are you from?" "Do you live around here?" and general questions about how you liked living in Kobe.
When it started to rain, Atsumu joined you two under the roof of the bus stop, throwing his brother an annoyed but apologetic look for interrupting but being consolidated quickly by a surprisingly interested Oni who also allowed him to massage her ears.
"So, whaddaya do? Are ya a student?", Osamu asked, playing with Oni‘s curled tail.
"Not anymore, actually. I work at a café."
You rummaged in your bag before pulling out a business card with an elegant golden emblem on a black backdrop.
"We're currently remodeling and expanding and all that good stuff. But we expect to reopen in a few weeks so if you guys want to come and visit…"
“And what if I wanted to see ya before then?”
Osamu could feel Atsumu suppressing a holler at that line and was grateful that his brother showed that much restraint.
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tobecatherine · 8 months
Text
Nightmare Comfort
Part 2
Okay ya'll, it's been a very long time since I've found a character that has made me want to write like this. Once I got to romancing Gale in the second act I was hooked. I've read so many good stories lately that I decided last night to write and see what comes out. Please keep in mind I am still only in act 2 of the game so I don't know the ending. So some details may not be accurate.
I will warn you, it's a little depressing to start but apparently it's something my brain needed to get out. I would probably label this as sad, mixed with fluff and if enough people want me to continue, there could be a spicy second part.
To set the scene, picture this: It's been a few months since you returned to Waterdeep with Gale after the end of your travels. Ever since slowing down your mind has been racked with guilt, feeling like you don't deserve comfort you start to push Gale away.
Please be kind:
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First person
Gale/Reader
Word Count: 2332
Nightmares had, in some way, always had a hold on you. But once returning to Waterdeep with Gale, they seemed to have gotten worse. It started with small, repeated dreams of the battles you fought together that pushed you to do things that normally would have been out of character for you. Haunted by lives you couldn’t save, the people you had failed. They would slip into your dreams every few weeks, reminding you of where you had been. It didn’t matter how many you did save, in your mind, only the ones you failed mattered deep down.
When you would wake, for just a moment, you would think you were back there, in the heat of battle. But as your body regained its senses and you’d open your eyes, you’d see Gale’s slumbering face, listening to his soft breathing. Just having him so close would bring you back to reality. It made you glad that you didn’t move much in your sleep. The shame you felt over this, you couldn’t tell him. You knew he’d listen but you also knew he would want to fix it but in your own way, you felt like this is what you deserved. So you let the dead haunt your dreams, doing your best to hide your growing exhaustion.
As the nightmares became more frequent, it felt almost like it was becoming a ritual to wake up and just take in Gale’s sleeping face. You would spend hours just gazing and scanning every wrinkle, dimple, freckle and scar he had. The thought crossed your mind that if you did this long enough you could memorize the slope of his nose and the curve of his cupid's bow and maybe, just maybe, the picture perfect image of him in your mind could chase away the bad dreams. 
Tonight's nightmare was especially bad. You stood there, the day you thought you had lost Gale forever. The moments replaying in your mind as you watched him die, shedding tears over his body because you weren’t sure he could be brought back. While your party had found a way to revive the love of your life, the feelings of mourning were still all too real. When you awoke, you felt tears on your face and when you opened your eyes the comfort you sought wasn’t there.
Panic arose in your chest as you sat up quickly to see where he could be. Your eyes scanned the room, coming upon the open doors that lead to the balcony. There, in the pale moonlight, you could see Gale standing shirtless, leaning slightly against the door frame, his back to you as he gazed upon the stars. While you couldn’t see his face, his body language and the energy you felt from him, you could tell something was wrong.
Quietly you removed the blanket that covered you on the bed you shared. The air was warm on this night so you had gone to sleep with nothing on other than one of Gale’s tunics. Slowly you raised yourself off the bed, walking slowly up behind the tall striking man in front of you. As you reached him you wrapped your arms around his waist, your hands gently placed on his belly, leaning forward just enough to rest your forehead against his back. In automatic fashion Gale’s big hands rested over yours as a long sigh left his lungs.
You could feel the guilt in your throat coming up like bile, wanting nothing more than to tell him everything you had been feeling but you still couldn’t bear drowning him in your issues. You need to be strong, perfect, beautiful, all the things he tells you you are every day. If you couldn’t do that then you failed him too. So instead you pressed close into his back, tightening your arms around him, worried that at any minute he could just drift away into a cloud of smoke.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked, ever so softly. So softly that you almost missed it but you had felt that familiar rumble from his chest as he spoke.
“You knew?” You asked. A lump in your throat forming as you try not to speak louder than a whisper. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted you to come to me… I… I knew something was wrong but I could tell that you wanted to handle it yourself so I didn’t push. You are beautiful beyond comparison but you are also stubborn and bullheaded. But the longer this has gone on My Love, your nightmares aren’t as silent as you think they are. It breaks my heart to see you struggling like this and I can’t just sit back and wait anymore,” He said, turning around to face you, still holding your hands. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”
Gently he raises each of your hands to his lips, leaving small kisses along your knuckles before placing each one so you're holding him around his neck.. The hair on his face tickling your skin almost made you smile but you found yourself still looking at the floor, your heart at your feet. With another sigh, Gale laid one hand against your waist, keeping you close to him. The other carefully raises your head by the chin to look at him. Gale’s eyes look longingly into yours as his hand cups your cheek. 
For a moment you relax, tilting your face into his palm, feeling your body relax for just a moment. The heat from his hand felt comforting against your skin. 
“I’m sorry, none of this is your fault. You have done so much for me. I didn’t want to add another burden to your plate.” you say, lip quivering. “I must look pathetic… I am pathetic.” 
You watch as Gale’s brows furrow and the corners of his mouth point downward. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip to calm its quiver. His eyes search yours for understanding, recognition. “Where is the strong brave Druid that I fell in love with on the road?”
You can feel your gut clench, you didn’t have an answer, he was right, this wasn’t you. “I’m afraid I lost her,” You replied, your fingers twisting curls with the hair on the back of his neck. You were sure Gale was going to end this, ask you to leave because you weren’t the girl he fell in love with anymore. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks now. It felt like a dam had burst behind your eyes.
At the sight of this, Gale wrapped both arms around you, with one smooth motion he lifted you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. You were sure he would just lay you there and walk away but instead he sat on the bed, resting you carefully on his lap, cradling you in his arms.
“Every day you tell me how you love me, you reassure me about the choices we’ve made. Why won’t you let me do the same for you?” He asked softly. “You can’t keep bottling up all these feelings. I  don’t understand why you insist on suffering in silence but if that’s what you need then…. I want you to cry for as long as you need to and I will hold you for as long as you need me to.”
With his words, suddenly a flood of emotion burst forth. Pressed against his chest you let yourself sob, groan, and scream. Muffling yourself against his skin, you let out the rage and anxiety that pent up for the last few weeks. He was right, you shouldn’t have bottled this up, the heat in your chest made you feel like you were in the throat of a dragon.
It took a few minutes but you soon realized Gale was whispering in your ear. Straining your ears to hear the soft words he spoke. Between your sobs and frustration, you could hear him say, “I love you.” “my heart has never ached more for anyone than it does for you.” “I will be here for you always, you just have to let me in.”
For the first time you could admit the truth. “I’m scared,” You said, finally regaining control of your breathing.
“What are you scared of, my sweet?” Gale asked, now rocking the two of you back and forth.
“Of everything.” You said, taking deep long breaths now as you come down from the all too embarrassing tear filled journey you just took in Gales arms. Moving ever so slightly you rest your head on his shoulder, wishing your nose wasn’t now stuffy so you could breathe in his scent.
Softly you let your lips kiss the soft skin of his neck, admitting to yourself that this really had gone for too long. So, you started to let it all go.. There in Gale’s arms you tell him your whole story. You admit that before the whole venture started you had been alone for quite some time. It has made you view sharing things with others a burden because who could you trust when you were mostly alone. You spoke about those you failed and how they haunt your dreams but the biggest fear of all, was the fear of waking up and realizing Gale had only been a dream the whole time.
At the mention of himself, Gale chuckled. “You aren’t going to lose me. The road we traveled was a rough one, and even with everything I know, I would trade all the stars in the sky, all the air in my lungs, even all my books just to spend every last moment I live with you.”
Your eyebrows raise as he mentions his book collection. “You’re really serious,” you said, lifting your head to look at him with surprise. You search his face for anything other than the serious look he now wore.
“I don’t joke about my book collection sweetheart,” he said, gently placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I don’t deserve you, I feel like all I’ve done is trick you.”
This time Gale placed his lips against yours. Slow and soft, his hand moving to rest on the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair. You’ve known Gale was one who showed his love more than he spoke about it, but he was good at both nonetheless. You could feel the pure emotion he put forth in his kiss. He took his time kissing each section of your face, wanting you to feel as loved and precious as he viewed you. When his lips found yours again it was like your heart was suddenly being filled with more love for this wizard than you ever thought possible.
Once your lungs ached for air you finally pulled away from his lips. Gathering your composer you finally explained the rest of your insecurities, you finally explained your fear of losing him and how it felt to feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces from the uncertainties of his survival that day.
“Every day I get with you feels like a dream… and when I sleep… the nightmares are my reality. Everything has just felt too good to be true. I’m sorry Gale… I know this side of me isn’t what you signed up for,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his.
Gale leaned forward, kissing your forehead for a long moment before pulling back and resting his own against yours so you could share each other's breath. “My love, when I asked you to marry me, I meant it. There is no one in this world or in the heavens that I have loved so fully and who has made me feel like just being me is good enough. I want to stay beside you, no matter what life brings. Be that nightmares, blissful dreams, fights, love making, every moment I get to spend with you makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.”
“I have never loved someone the way I love you,” you say in return. “That’s why it scares me so much. Now that all of that is behind us, it’s like my mind won’t just let me be. We’ve been through so much, we’ve shared so much. What if I ruin this?”
“I won’t let you,” he said simply. “I will just have to remind you how loved and cherished you are.” With that Gale tilted his head and caught your lips in another kiss. Gentle and sweet. You could feel love move through him, making your heart skip. “I have an idea that might help… maybe not right away but with time I think we can change the way your mind has tried to trick you.”
“I’d do just about anything to make this end and get to just live… here with you,” You say softly.
Sitting up straighter Gale smiled down at you in his arms. “Good, I love you… we’ll do this in two parts. First, every morning, I want you to tell me five things that make you happy. It doesn’t matter what they are or why they make you happy. You just need to remind yourself that there are plenty of things that bring you joy. Then second, I want you to tell me something we could do together that would make you feel better.”
Your cheeks flush from the first thought that crossed your mind when he said this. A small smile creeping onto your lips as your teeth start to lightly chew on your bottom lip. “Like making love under the stars like we used to?” You mumbled. Sex felt like it should be the farthest thing from your mind, but the stolen nights the two of you shared on the road were some of the most comforting and happy moments you remember having in your whole life. 
With a smirk and a chuckle Gale nodded. “That my love, I can provide.”
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seiya-starsniper · 10 months
Note
hello hello i see you're open to prompts 👀
how about #20"I'm just going to lie right here" for dreamling (or any ship you prefer 👀)
happy writing, my dear 💜✨️
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HEY SO REMEMBER THIS PROMPT YOU SENT ME FIVE MONTHS AGO??? Apparently it took me getting another prompt to finally come up with an idea for it, so I've gone and combined the two 😄💖 Gentle Prompts Here and Soft Prompts Here (I'll still accept prompts from both because I am a fluff machine)
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Hob knows something is wrong as soon as his roommate enters their shared apartment and slams the door behind him.
“Morph? You all right?” Hob calls out, pausing his movie and turning to the entryway where Morpheus is angrily pulling off his shoes and shoving his coat onto the hooks. He also practically slams his keys down into the tray on the side table by the door, and Hob winces at the loud clang that echoes through the apartment. He considers asking Morpheus again if he’s all right, but decides to let his moody roommate come to him instead. 
Something is definitely very wrong if his roommate is making this much noise. Morpheus Endless is normally so quiet of a roommate that Hob doesn’t always notice when the other man is even in the apartment at the same time as him. Morpheus was so silent and unassuming that Hob had felt like he was being haunted by a ghost rather than living with a real person the first few months they started living together. Hob would be jump-scared in his own kitchen simply by turning around and finding Morpheus there right behind him. He had no idea another person could walk so quietly. The worst time had been in the bathroom, when Hob had accidentally squirted half a tube of toothpaste all over the other man’s black shirt. From that point forward, Morpheus had started knocking along the walls wherever he walked, so that Hob would know where he was at any given moment.
Still, the pale man was an ideal roommate otherwise, if not a little socially awkward at times. On top of his eerily quiet nature, it had taken months for Hob to get Morpheus to even say more than five words to him whenever they were in the same room together. Hob had first thought Morpheus was just disinterested in being friendly all together, but then one night, like a cat, his roommate peeked his head out of his room to the smell of Hob cooking dinner. Hob has since learned to let Morpheus come to him, instead of trying to impress on the man himself.
Hob’s efforts seem to now be paying off, for instead of stomping off to his bedroom to sulk about whatever it is, Morpheus instead makes his way over to the couch and plants himself directly in front of Hob’s line of vision. Hob tries to give his best reassuring smile as he stares up at the pale man.
“Bad day?” Hob asks gently. “I’m happy to listen, if you’d like. Looks like you could use a hug too.”
Morpheus doesn’t answer, he simply sways somewhat unsteadily for a few moments, before he practically collapses onto the couch. The only problem is, Hob is still very much sitting on said couch, and instead of aiming for the empty spot next to him, Hob instead finds himself with an armful of gangly limbs and untamed hair. 
“Oof,” Hob grunts as he takes on the unexpected weight. Hug it is, then. Morpheus isn’t heavy by any means, but it still takes a moment for Hob to adjust to having what is effectively an oversized cat suddenly in his lap. Hob eventually manages to wiggle his arms out from under Morpheus, before wrapping them around the pale man and pulling him against his chest. Morpheus immediately takes the cue and buries his face in Hob’s shoulder, shaking like a leaf and failing to keep his breathing even.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s all right,” Hob soothes, rubbing at Morpheus’s back. His roommate is freezing from the cold weather outside, but he’s quickly warming up the longer Hob holds him.
Hob doesn’t know what it is that’s upset Morpheus so much, but whatever it is, he’s glad that his roommate isn’t trying to deal with it alone, that they’ve come far enough in their friendship (though Morpheus has yet to call him a friend at this point) for him to show Hob this vulnerable side of him. 
The only downside to this is that this newfound vulnerability is doing absolutely nothing to help Hob’s teeny tiny, absolutely miniscule crush on his roommate. But that’s neither here nor there. Hob tucks the yearning feelings that arise from their newfound intimacy quietly behind his ribs and focuses all his energy into comforting Morpheus instead. 
“Do you…want to talk about it?” Hob asks Morpheus. 
A soft inhale. Then a shake of the head against his shoulder. The motion alerts Hob to the fact that his shoulder is damp, and the realization makes his heart lurch up into his throat. He wants to go out and find whoever or whatever it is that’s upset Morpheus so much and give them an introduction to his fists.
“Okay…” Hob continues, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. He’s here for comfort, not to be a white knight. “That’s fine, we don’t need to get into it. Uhm…can I readjust though? This position’s a bit uncomfortable.”
There’s a short pause, and then eventually, Hob feels Morpheus nod against his shoulder.  
Moving Morpheus is a fairly easy task. If Hob didn’t know any better, he’d think his roommate had been replaced by some sort of mannequin from the way he lets Hob manhandle him so easily. He seems to be mostly aware of what’s happening, which is good, but it’s clear he’s no in any sort of headspace for conversation just yet.
Eventually, Hob is able to rearrange them so that he’s lying with his back resting on the arm of the couch, and Morpheus is sprawled on top of him. Their legs are tangled together and Hob’s also thrown the large throw blanket over them for good measure. Morpheus, of course, reburies his head in Hob’s shoulder, and Hob takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around his roommate’s shoulders once more, rubbing soothing circle’s into the other man’s back.
“See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” Hob asks gently. “Nothing beats a good hug and a cuddle on the couch when you’ve had a bad day.”
Morpheus hums, but otherwise doesn’t offer any other sort of verbal reply. It’s a start.
“You can stay as long as you like,” Hob adds. “I’m just going to lay right here until you decide you want to move.”
“Then you’ll be here until tomorrow,” Morpheus croaks, his voice clearly cracked from crying.
Hob laughs and moves his hand up from Morpheus’s back to ruffle the man’s messy black hair. Morpheus groans in annoyance and bats his hand away, but otherwise does not move from his chin perch on Hob’s shoulder. Somehow, Morpheus's hair looks exactly the same.
“There you are,” Hob says, his voice fond. “Was starting to worry you’d gone mute on me.”
“No,” Morpheus says. “...I still don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s fine,” Hob replies, then adds, “and we can stay here until tomorrow, really, if you like. But I will need to pee at some point.”
Morpheus huffs. “I suppose that is acceptable.”
“Can I tempt you with some food too?” Hob asks. “I’ll even feed it to you if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Morpheus replies. “I can feed myself.”
“All right,” Hob says, shrugging and shifting himself into a more comfortable lying position. “Need anything else? Want to take a nap?”
Morpheus doesn’t answer for some time, and Hob almost thinks the man fell asleep on him already, but then his roommate readjusts his limbs as well and moves his body downwards until his head is resting on Hob’s chest. Hob wants to cry at how adorable he looks, at how right it feels that their bodies fit together so perfectly, like they were made for each other. 
“A nap sounds nice,” Morpheus finally replies, mumbling quietly into Hob’s chest. “And perhaps food when we wake up.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Hob agrees. He already knows he’s going to be ordering take-out for tonight, but come tomorrow, he’s going to make all of Morpheus’s favorite foods for the rest of his week. For the rest of his life, if he’d let him.
It doesn’t take terribly long for Morpheus to fall asleep on him, and Hob resists the urge to plant a kiss in the man’s hair, settling instead for gently rubbing at Morpheus’s back. Hob falls asleep not too long after his roommate, and when he dreams, he dreams of a home filled with warmth and joy and love.
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ice-eise-babyy · 4 months
Text
Pure | JB.B - Drabble
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Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (ft. Pre-serum!Steve Rogers)
Summary: a very drunk bucky who refuses to leave the pub with a 'crazy lady' a.k.a his girlfriend.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol but other than that, its mainly just fluff guys
A/N: I dont even know if this is any good but i hope you guys enjoy it <33
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You would be lying if you said you didn't want to hurl something—anything— at Steve's head right at this moment. It's almost 10:00 p.m and instead of being in bed drifting off to sleep, you were currently out in the streets of Brooklyn on the way to a pub, who wouldn't want to hurl someone in the head with something?
"I'm really sorry y/n. I really wouldn't have woken you up if—" Steve's 20th apology this night was shortly cut of as you gave him a sideward glare. You felt slightly guilty after doing so, knowing that you were pinning this on him even though you were partially at fault.
If you had agreed to Bucky early this morning then you probably wouldn't be awake at this unforsaken hour. You probably wouldn't have Steve throwing rocks at your window to wake you up, and you probably wouldn't be walking to a pub to pick up your boyfriend who apparently refused to leave because he wanted to see you. You sighed, recollecting the conversation you had with him earlier today.
"But y/n..." you rolled your eyes at his dramatic whining. "Bucky, you're just going to spend the day with Steve. It's not the end of the world." You had been convincing him to spend more time with steve for almost a week now mainly because he has been spending most of his time with you, even sleeping at your apartment. The reason being he had to leave for wisconsin in 2 days because of military training.
As much as you want to grab bucky's face in your hands and look him in the eye while saying 'i also want to spend the day with you' and have him to yourself, you knew that if you do that you would be selfish. You knew that he might end up regretting not spending more time with Steve before leaving, he just probably haven't realized that yet.
"Can you atleast come with us, doll?"
"No, Bucky. absolutely not. if i come with you, you'd probably ignore Steve the whole time."
You smoothed out your Navy colored dress before shoving your white gloves deep in the pocket of your coat. You slowly walked in when Steve opened the door of the pub entrance for you. There weren't much people, mostly just soldiers who came back from war or just men in general. Your eyes darted around the place and a sigh of relief fell from your lips as your eyes landed on Bucky. He was sitting on one of the stools with only his side facing you, his forehead pressed on the bar counter as he looked down at his hands that were resting on his lap, he was humming a familiar song as he did so. He was looking at his hands like it was the most interesting thing to ever exist. His eyes wide and his lips pursed. You felt a warmth in your chest as you peered at his drunken state for a few beats longer. He was out for only a few hours and to you it also felt like just a few hours but to your heart... to your heart it felt like so long, long enough to have it yearning for him. yearning for his touch, his voice, his love...
You sighed once more as you sat down right beside him. He paid you no attention, eyes still on his hand and still humming the same song. Your lips tugged into a smile as you realized what song he was humming. It was 'when you wish upon a star' by glenn miller. It was the song playing when you had danced with him for the first time.
"Bucky?"
"Go away miss. I have a girlfriend" he was so quick to turn you away, mistaking you for another woman because he haven't looked at you once. This sparked an idea. A funny and harmless one.
"Oh, you do? too bad."
"Yeah, too bad for you— *hic* not for me. I'm happy where i am."
"Really? tell me then, mister. How is she like?"
He still hasn't looked at you. In his head he thought that there was no point in looking at other women because those other woman aren't even you. the only problem was it was you but of course he didn't know that yet. A wide smile adorned his face as he heard your words. Oh boy was he excited to brag about you.
"She is amazing. Words would never ever be enough to describe her beauty. It's unparalleled— *hic* and it's not... not just her face that's beautiful," even though you couldn't see the entirety of his face you didn't fail to notice the dreamy smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Her soul as well and her smile— oh her smile... it just makes me— *hic* make me warm in here..." his hand pressed on his chest and gripped it like he was trying his best to pull his heart out just to show you where exactly he felt the warmth. "I really really want to marry her but she said that— *hic* i gotta win the war first... Stupid fucking nazi's" his fists clenched as he muttered that last words.
Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth as you tried to hold back your laughter. This was a rare sight to see your boyfriend all dazed while talking about you. Sure he was vocal about how he felt for you. He would always say how much he loves you or how beautiful you are but... you never expected that this is how he would talk about you to other people.
"That's really cute but we really gotta go home y/n. The pub's closing" Steve's voice dripped with sarcasm as he popped up from behind you before walking over to Bucky and patting him by the shoulder.
"Bucky, we gotta get you home.." you said but he just shook his head. he finally looked up but instead of looking at you, his gaze landed on the skinny little man in front of him. "Steve! you gotta help me man. That crazy lady's trying to take me home!" he said with genuine fear and panic in his eyes before standing up and gripping steve by the shoulder, his index finger pointed towards you who was sitting behind Steve. Steve doubled over as he laughed at him and Bucky tilted his head, confused as to why his friend would laugh at such a 'serious' situation.
"Bucky, that's your girlfriend." Steve bursted out laughing again as he saw Bucky's face contorting with a confused expression before looking at you who sat behind Steve. His eyes went wide and his jaw went slack when he realized, It was you!
"my god! it is!" he practically shoved Steve away just to rush over to you and get a clearer view of you. His hands flew to the sides of your face forcing you to looking up at him. he gave you a quick peck on the lips, an ecstatic smile adorning his face as he pulled away. His breath smelled of beer and maraschino cherries. He picked you up and spun you around the moment you stood up.
The three of you are now walking back to Steve and Bucky's shared apartment. Bucky's left arm was draped around Steve's shoulder to help himself as he walked sloppily while his other arm was swinging back and forth as he intertwined your fingers together. the way he looked at your hands with such adoration made your heart melt and maybe even made you realize that it is possible to fall inlove with the same person over and over again...
"y/n..."
"Hmm?"
"I may be tipsy with the beer and grenadine, but..." he paused for a moment when he heard you giggle. it was funny to you because 'tipsy' was probably an understatement, "I meant everything I said... I really want to marry you... wait for me til I get back from war... okay?" his voice was small and it sounded so innocent. There were hundreds— maybe even thousands— of words that would be perfect to describe Bucky's love fore you but 'pure' was the most accurate one out of all of them. His love was pure...
"I will, bucky..."
but he never did...
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uyuartik · 7 months
Text
bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part iii
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tags: angst, fluff, arguments, period typical misogyny (of course not from obi wan), just overall wealthy pricks being little shits, the trope of THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, but not really, do you believe in second chances (i don't) (💀), little smut compared to the rest because originally there was no smut in this (but i HAD TO use that idea), REPOST because i fucked up in the first place
a/n: welcome back for the finale!
well, i can't think of anything to say except this has been a blast for me, and i'm so happy that there are those who enjoys this madness as much as i do. hope you like the ending too. thank you all!
likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can’t wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.
part one | part two | part three | ao3
enjoy!!!
word count: 8.3K
chapter three: fuck it it's fine!
You don’t board that ship. A slight sickness you excuse, then spend your days sulking at home, still covered by the expanse of your lies. It is not totally untrue, though. You did really wake up with a swollen throat, and that put the integrity of your health during the journey at risk, thus with great grief, canceled the plans. Nobody knew that you’d not even mention the symptom on any other day, just requesting some honey tea and hardly noticing it disappear in the morrow. And it exactly worked out as predicted, more so, without leaving its discomfort for remorse. But after that, the hours stretched out each day, like you were living in a different plane where you were not welcomed. Perhaps you actually weren’t, for if you followed your fate, you’d be eating different foods, and walking foreign corridors. In an attempt to run away from that feeling, you try to socialize just a little, attending even the most dull tea parties. Also, your preference of company has to be specialized now, and that proves difficult sometimes.
So, that’s exactly why you indeed sulk at home, even though all your efforts.
But not tonight. 
Then again, perhaps you should've.
His presence has nothing to do with it, to be perfectly clear. On the contrary, he makes it a little endurable. The forced small talk and empty eyes you once feared dearly are not the case, even after your last encounter. Of course, there's a little awkwardness, an uncertainty about where the line of intimacy now stands, shadows of anger and disappointment still darkening the atmosphere, but the overall sensation comes down to longing. You both lost a great friendship, cast it aside in a blink, but your souls don't accept this new arrangement that quickly, trying to fall into the familiar rhythm once more each time you feel your walls break. You don't allow it, neither does he. Yet, it is about the only thing that turns this night into a not complete waste of time. Even a pleasant one, you'd dare say. 
If it weren't for literally everything else except this.
The hushed little uninformed jokes start during the dinner. It is the lord of the house that says them, to his close circle, barely hanging onto etiquette he had glimpses of. As minutes tick and glasses of wine roll, that glimpse is gone, and even in your seat at the end of the table, you hear him clearly. The pressed lips and masked mimics pretending not to be aware of it soon become apparent on every face, excluding you and Lord Kenobi. You glower the first time another of the guests feels confident enough to make his dirty contribution to the subject. Typical, you try to stay calm, tapping your fingers on the table. The world is filled with the likes of him, and the last thing they deserve is your attention. The reflex doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he sends a sympathetic smile, showing that you’re not alone and accepting this invitation was a most regretful choice. He uses a few retorts to close the deal, let the dinner continue in different matters- or in silence, that would be fantastic indeed, but his smart wit and slight intimidation work only for a couple of minutes. Now it’s your turn to reflect that sad smile, and you do.
The sadness doesn’t come from the circumstances around you all, though. Your heart feels heavy, for not trying better ways to handle that morning. That guilt will haunt you, drag you into the gloomy pit you’ve been in, and maybe, you should stay there for some time, a penance for your mistakes.  
After dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen huddle around different interests, you get a chance to cool off. The soft peals of laughter and giggles fill the room, a much more pleasant sound than the roar of men. You get to entertain others with your stories of other cities you’ve been to, and they tell their interesting incidents, and make fun of their husbands, people who deserve, as their commotion spills out of the walls. The topic of their conversation, marriage, diffuses out into your circle in such a way, that once again, you’re restraining yourself, trying to listen to the problems one of the ladies is complaining of, and not to hear the crude comments going on on the other side. You’re stopped from rushing out of your armchair simply out of respect you have for the woman speaking when you pick up your name passing in their remarks. Plus, Kenobi’s words, you don’t flatter me by offending the lady, reach every ear in the room, sharper than a knife. Your cheeks burn with anger, then with gratitude, and at last, out of embarrassment, because how are you going to explain he’s just doing an honorable thing, that it’s his character to defy ill minds when he sees one, and this has little to do with his “pursuit” of you? Your breaths are shallow and quick as you focus on the discourse, and dodge every attempt to pull the subject towards your relations.
Though, the snake doesn’t give up on eating, even his own tail, it seems.
In less than half an hour, a joke about abduction is whispered, and you surge from your armchair, the screeching sound echoing. You murmur what resembles to be an excuse (you’re still deciding whether they are worthy of one), and send one glaring gaze at the group, enough to make one flinch, and walk out.
Out of the entire house.
Lucky for you, this is a night in which you carpooled with another guest, meaning you only have your own feet to carry you away in this pouring rain.
But of course, that’s not enough to deter you.
You take big steps, enforced by your fury. Thus, the house leaves your sight in no time, but not their audacity, still ringing in your ears. Implications about your freedom. Complaints of wive-hood. Humor about how perfectly reasonable is to get rich, by kidnapping a young woman… (Honestly, after all that, you don’t have mercy for them of the panic they might experience when they realize their guest is not refreshing in another room, and have left the estate altogether. Alas, that guest is you.) You string curses at them, the only form of thinking you have in regard, and feel the bulk of emotions resonate with every stomp, even spilling out of your tear ducts. Your dampening body, and the length of the road don’t make it any easier, feeding your frustration. Your only anchor is your self worth, the reason you began this path in the first place, and you desperately hope it will turn the tide in a while.
Though now, the picture you paint with those foul words and wet clothes isn’t exactly the brightest.
It is still among these moods, that Obi Wan catches up to you. You’re not exactly surprised to see him, his carriage closing the twenty minute distance you put between yourself and that damned house with a speed that you think can’t be that good for the horses in the long run. They stop abruptly at your side, and you have all those insults readied if it turns out to be that fucked up man or polite declines if it is indeed Obi Wan. 
But, you can’t speak them. The world feels like it freezes, the raindrops slowing down, and carrying away your burdens as they fall to the soil. The small door opens, and Obi Wan rushes out of it, with an expression that is so honest and raw. His fright vanishes at the sight of you, that scared gaze dissolving, eyebrows relaxing… You can actually see his lips move, Thank God. He is totally undisturbed by the downpour, already making his strands stick to his forehead. His hands find yours, and pull you close, almost like an embrace. You look into his eyes, how focused they are on you, as if they could burn you from the inside with their intensity. You have an undeniable urge to kiss him right now, and that has nothing to do with lust, but your wish to undo the last couple of weeks, uphold that strong connection once the two you had. Of course, you don’t, you can’t, thus, you let him lead you inside, and continue towards whatever destination.
Funny, how you feel much calmer doing the thing you thought you wouldn’t. Moreso, you have no woes about it either.
The silence is deafening, but nobody dares to open their mouth, the greatness of the storm of emotions you both are having too heavy on your tongues. He puts his less soggy jacket around your shoulders, you welcome it with a nod. That’s the moment you realize the redness on his knuckles. It’s not hard to guess the scene, and that has your head turned to the floor, processing the entire night. It is also at this moment that you become aware of your fresh tears, still sliding over your cheeks. Even if he notices them, he doesn’t do a thing about it, an indifference you’re grateful for. He just looks out of the window, and contemplates, same as you.
===
The tub filled with hot water doesn’t make you any wetter, but it helps with the temperature. You’re sorry that you exhausted the owners of the inn you had to stay in, (for it was getting impossible to travel in that rain) with this request, but a voice tells you that Obi Wan wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re unbelievably silent as he sorts it all out, staying in your bubble, unintentionally playing the part of the damsel in distress. You listen to his list of requests, for the horses, for three rooms (the best reserved for the lady, he insists), a tub to be prepared for you, and some tea-
“No need.” Your voice is weak, but it is clear. He would’ve protested this answer, but it is the first time you’ve talked after leaving the house, how ironic, and the realization sets deep in both of you. After that, you feel the words pile up on your tongue, but in a blink, you find yourself in a room. Alone.
“So sorry, I thought they gave me this room.” He stands at the door, holding it half open, face turned in the opposite direction.
“Obi Wan.” His gaze hesitantly finds your way again. God, he’s about to kill you with that blues… “Can we talk for a second?”
You name yourself a hypocrite for asking that, in this state, but you can’t breathe with all that untold things if you spend another second without explaining yourself to him, and apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused. And, isn’t this already proof of the trust you have for him, how vulnerable you can be in his presence?
And, there’s nothing he’s not seen before, after all.
He gingerly closes the door, locking it in a swift motion, and makes his way to you. You pull yourself together, and reach for his hand for him to help you out.
“No, stay. Your fingers are still cold.”
You can’t hide the small smile forming on your face as you settle back, careful to keep most of your body underwater. He, ever noble, keeps his eyes straight on your face, which somehow doesn’t help. There’s something about his rolled-up sleeves, the matching three-piece suit down to two for the damp jacket sits behind the chair in your back against the fireplace. His hair is drying up in all defiant shapes, and you have to stop imagining that morning he woke up next to you.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I- I never intended to cause this big of a mess, and make someone clean up after me. Certainly, not you, of all people. You shouldn’t have tired yourself this much, and I’m sorry for it.”
“You can’t expect me to do nothing.” The sentence begs for a dear to be added in the end, and he has to fight his throat to silence himself. Instead, there’s a kind tug at the corners of his lips.
“You’re right.” You nod. “But the truth is, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed to get out, I just couldn’t sit there pretend I didn’t hear all those nasty comments.”
His fist clenches at the reminder, and you once again spot the bruises settling in on his knuckles, filling with the desire to mention them, but you inevitably decide not to. “That asshole-“
”He was obnoxious since the first hour, and loud, but that doesn't scare me, for thus he has proven himself to be just a foul mouthed man. But, that title started not to cover the extent of it- it was too much and I couldn’t take it anymore. You may say it was obvious from the start, but I tried my best to not evolve this into a thing I would regret afterward. And I succeeded.”
“So you don't even regret ever setting foot in that house?”
A tinge of disgust seizes your face, but only for a moment. Even with all those words echoing in your ear, you don't have hatred in your heart, or any remorse. You're not so quite sure about its reason, nor do you wish to be, avoiding all analysis. Like you don't know the basics already. But the sudden change in your expression tells everything. “I don’t think I can ever regret it. At least, not in its entirety.” You say, hugging your knees and lowering your head. Hot steam no longer hits your skin, you realize in your attempts of distraction.
There's a second of silence in the room, despite the thunderstorm raging outside. You are as cold as in the beginning because of it, and you almost contemplate how good of an idea this conversation was, especially under these circumstances.
“I’d say the same.” Obi Wan speaks, and that's when goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes meet his, then flutter away quickly, overwhelmed. Does he mean-
Why is him meaning that any different than yours, huh? Why is it any worse when he says it?
“You should get out of there.” He reaches for a towel, and you shyly stand up, turning your back and pressing your arms around yourself. Nothing he hasn't seen before, right? As the coarse fabric is draped around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel afire, the imprint of his hand around your shoulders for a second lingering way more than it should, creating a tingling sensation.
“Thank you.”
“Well, I must return to my room now.” He folds his hands together, like trying to preserve where they’ve touched, and his eyes still stay respectfully up, causing your heart to lose its rhythm. There has never been a scenario that involved nakedness without… sexual intentions, and clearly, it’s not even crossing your minds right now. Your awareness of it takes up all the space in your mind, tosses every other idea out, and leaves you at the mercy of your soul.
“Obi Wan.” Fuck, the way you call his name, it is bound to weaken him every time. “Can you-” Oh, haven't you demanded enough from him? “I- I would like it if you stayed.”
His mouth hangs open for a second, with a subtle sharp inhale. His fingers tighten around each other, then relax all together, hanging free by his side. “Of course.” For all the words that come to his lips, it’s a most simple answer.
Not that you have any complaints.
You’re filled with another kind of thrill, being this open with your wishes, but having no clue whether they’ll take the night, having no clue where you want the night to go, or how to act in this very moment, half covered.  You just know that you prefer him, being in the same chamber as you. You’d prefer to listen to his idle talk or slow breaths, than the silence of the room. You’d prefer him to snore in your bed than to picture him in his own, lying awake. (Because let’s face it, it’d take a while for him to surrender to sleep, if left to his own devices.)
He takes a step towards the armchair, unbuttoning his vest and you come back to your senses, stepping out of the tub in the opposite direction, towards the nightgown the innkeeper gracefully lent to you. It’s slightly large for your body, definitely not tailored for someone close to your size, but if Obi Wan ever heard you commenting on the fact, he’d wholeheartedly claim you still looked like an angel. Since you don’t, he doesn’t too, but it’s obvious in the way he takes in your form, a battle of excess fabric against your movements. He has to bury a groan when your sleeve falls down your shoulder, a simple accident. He knows that shouldn’t have been seen by him, or you didn’t do it on purpose, that tonight is not meant for those activities, and it shouldn’t get him so bothered up, but it fucking does. Does it also make him want to slap himself? Yes.
Walking near the fireplace, you wring the excess water from your hair and run your fingers through the strands before rubbing that towel aggressively, for the fact that it is already soggy enough, and is not gonna do much. You despise sleeping with wet hair, it is an invitation for you to get sick, not to mention that you’ll be sharing the bed, leaving frustrating streaks of wetness on the sheets for them.
“Hey, hey, let me help you.” Is he a little bit scared? The answer is another yes. But he’s not gonna stand there and watch you fight with your hair. He takes the fabric, locating the most usable spots, and slowly massages your strands with them. Objectively, it’s not a lot different in terms of overall results, but it does more than that anyway. Despite the forbidden intimacy, despite the question of “How is he so good at it?”, you’re lulled by the constant movements, the tension in your muscles easing off. He keeps you by the fire longer than you would’ve stayed, and that achievement belongs solely to him. Frankly, he too is not sure how long the two of you could stand like that, or put an end to it. All that matters is that your hair is pleasantly damp, less bothersome, and he did that.
To be honest, with each minute he is in your presence; the task of holding onto his manners, respecting his broken heart, and following your lead is getting harder to manage.
“Thank you.” You murmur, eyelids barely held open, and he feels like a juggler, suddenly losing his sense of balance, and dropping one of his props.
“You’re welcome.” Perhaps he was the one to thank, for the pleasure. That’s the second prop, falling down.
Still, it’s obvious how that sentence misses a darling thrown out after it.
You climb the bed, and he follows suit. You both favor the edges of the mattress, and there’s a ridiculous distance between both of your bodies, but you’re both too timid to use it, even at the risk of tumbling down.
Only after the urge to find a better position kicks in that you move, and end up just a little closer, face turned to his side.
He’s already turned to you, eyes closed but definitely not trying to sleep, or relax if nothing. He opens them of course, after you rustled the sheets that hard.
“What if I get sick tomorrow?” Admittedly, that’s a silly question, but the scenario occupies your mind. All the elemental factors are present, and you only have a formal dress on your back. Also, the fact that it would be all your fault, yet you are the one to complain? You hate yourself for saying it out loud.
“Then we would stay ‘til you got better.” His point-of-fact words, softened with his bedtime voice, must be annoying. Must be. It is not. It is the raw truth, straight from his core. You won’t disrespect it, (again). “I would take care of you.”
(Doesn’t he, always?)
 A shiver runs down your spine.
(He’d name this place heaven, if it allowed you two to stay together a little longer.)
“Obi Wan.” Whispering, trying your best to break that ugly silence, not to crush under the weight of his words, but more importantly to let him know your truths, the alignment of your soul. “I- I never told you how much I appreciated you. Now just today, but especially today.”
He’s trying so hard not to sound rude, or leave you unanswered, but none of them are good enough. Thankfully, you are not expecting one. Your fingers ghost over his knuckles, afraid to hurt him. he’s not even sure you’re doing that, ‘til you hunch over, and press a small kiss over them.
That’s all the acknowledgment he needs, ever. It wasn’t becoming of a gentleman, obviously, but the situation didn’t require gentleman-cy, too. He has no recollection of how his fist ended up in that man’s eye, except for the exact second it happened, feeling his shirt slide from his other hand as the impact sizzled through his bones, and sent the man to the floor. He found himself in the middle of saying God knows what- he still doesn’t have a single clue, and thinks about the possibility of how they’ll resonate, ‘til it reaches his ears once again.
Though, he has no fear regarding that, or the altercation before it. Nor regret.
“I am honored that our names are spoken together, a testament of our likeness.”
The third prop.
It falls, most obviously, but he doesn’t show it. Not under these circumstances. No matter how you try to avoid the subject of love, or a future, he’s burning for it, burning for you. In that moment, it is settled that it’ll always be that way, forever. You’re absolutely crushing his heart, and maybe even crush yours in the process (for which reasons, he’s never sure), regardless of your intentions pointing otherwise, because he knows you’re pushing through your struggles to speak up, select the appropriate expressions, to honor your past. He’s touched by your effort, as well as your words, oh, your words… This is the only compliment he’ll ever accept, and it’s not even meant to be a compliment. Your voice is already etched into his brain, and there will not go a single day he’s not reminiscing about it.
Thus, with such strong emotions, his every muscle twitched with the desire to pull you closer, wrap his arm around your waist, card his fingers through your cool hair as your lips meet. He wants to kiss you slowly, savor your taste and caress your tongue with his, for the sole purpose of being close to you. You, throwing one leg over him… You, falling asleep in his arms as he gets to bathe in your enchanting scent… The feeling of your warm breath against his neck as you take refuge in there… He’s surprised he doesn’t have to chain himself not to act on any of these images.
(Oh, it very much feels like he has done that anyway)
Yet, it is probably the worst night to do so. It has all been too much, and all this on top of that is a recipe for disaster. A disaster he’s been struck with nonetheless, though, perhaps he can spare you from.
When it comes to you, he has always put his heart before his mind, (but never disregarding the latter part. It is the essential element to keep both of you safe, to never compromise your social statuses, to create the optimum atmosphere for your relationship to flourish (by your own unusual standards)). For the first time, he’s not following that code. Even he can’t imagine the consequences if he doesn’t.
You’re glad that nothing has changed. No response from him, no action. His relaxed expression tells you enough; the calmness of his eyes, his slow breaths and the slight curve of his lips… To be honest, you’re relieved to see your words reach their destination but also set with the urge to prove them. To press down your mouth on his, from which you hope for an answer; to hold his hand without causing any discomfort, or simply hug him for a second, eliminating all space between your bodies like your souls.
Alas, the role of the hypocrite is a part you no longer wish to play, and you’re perfectly willing to hurt yourself by not succumbing to your wishes, and refrain him from further confusion.
“Good night, Obi Wan.” You say, fingers grazing over his for the last time, and curl yourself into a ball.
“Good night, my dearest.”
 ===
The morning is unlike the previous example.
You wake up to him getting up, so there’s no way for you to know if your bodies drifted closer during the night, but considering the position of your arm, extended way beyond the middle, it is quite possible to assume some physical contact was present.
Considering you two are not facing each other, thus acknowledgment of the situation is not a matter, your embarrassment is half of what it should be.
Though, your cheeks burn brighter each second you can’t peel your eyes off of him, filling up the rest of that cup. Watching him walk around, the movement of each chiseled muscle on his back as he puts his shirt and trousers on quickly highlights another impropriety. He is perfection, even in that drowsy state of the human condition, there’s harmony to his every motion, the slow steps he takes, the way the fabric glides against his skin, the subtle fine arrangements of his fingers to make sure it looks decent, even how he breathes causes him to blend into the room, but also bedazzle it in his grace, make him stand out like a crown jewel, a masterpiece of arts that name the place.
You can only stop your ogling once he leans in and stirs the flames, which were already going strong since they were last fed before you went to sleep- wait, that doesn’t seem possible, did he actually sever his sleep to tend to it?
Is there any other explanation you need?
Your heart may flutter out of your chest after this realization, so you skirt out of the blankets. Of course, the sound draws his attention, and you’re caught, forced to react.
Yet, the unstoppable smile forming on his lips inspires a similar response on yours so easily, so naturally that you don’t feel obligated at all. On the quite contrary, that simple mimic banishes any pretense, showering you with reassurance and bravery, the motivation to act on your own true terms, not society’s or the ones you pressured onto yourself.
“Good morning.” The simultaneous greeting pulls a giggle from both of you, and it is all so small, yet so much. You sway away from his direction, casually reaching for your clothes, hoping he doesn’t notice the tremor of your legs when you shed the nightwear and put the chemise on. Because you know, he’s watching you. Divine justice, perhaps.
“Be careful, Obi Wan, I might start to think you enjoy watching me get dressed too much.” The snarky comment, fighting its way out of your mouth further softens the atmosphere, and it is like the first days of spring after a harsh winter, soothing your souls with relief.
“Guilty as charged.”
You shake your head, consumed by his usual forward banter. A scene taken straight out of your past. You shimmy into your dress instead of coming up with a cleverer response.
“You don’t sound sick.” He says, indicating that he’s been paying attention. 
Biting your lip, you turn away. “Actually…”
“Is there something wrong?” He ends up right beside you in a blink, as if the world changed by your unfinished sentence. 
Your heart picks up a different rhythm, hands raised in position to tie your ribbon but frozen. “It’s nothing, my throat just feels-”
“Do you want me to call a doctor?”
That was the exact reason why you started with it’s nothing. Alas… “No, it’s probably just my overthinking and coming up with strange sensations.” And if not, it depends on how well you spend tonight, so there’s not much room for intervention. Definitely not in medical terms.
“Pity.” His comment makes you scoff. After that, you can’t reward him with your concerns, can you? It is funny, ugh.
“Let me help.” 
Your heart can’t get any rest as the tension simply changes garbs, his fingers trailing over yours and leading a 180° turn, leaving a blazing line along your skin, to tie the ends of your ribbon together. Your arms tentatively fall to your sides, not sure what to do with their freedom. His breaths lick your neck while he attentively, slowly smooths his creation, and you’d probably freak out if you weren’t so focused on the sheer range of his skills.
(Also the mystery of how he comes to acquire it, but it’s only the deep, dark parts of your mind speaking. Moreover, you do not pride yourself in a position to be jealous. You absolutely are, on that tiny level, and no, you’ll never admit it.)
Though, you’re not gonna comment on that, not when your heart threatens to fly out of its cage. The sacredness of the action brings back the echoes of your concerns, not a single one strong enough to overtake you, but the cacophony of them loud enough to occupy the entirety of your capacity.
All that talk of past times… Coupled with a little hesitancy, and how the tables turn…
“T- thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Like he just didn’t flip the dynamic, he carries on with his outfit, tying his cravat. His beautiful hands work expertly, effortlessly, and the result is perfect, even without a mirror, eyes on you the entire time.
“Is it looking fine?”
“Yes.” You meekly answer. It is decent, like he always is. Somehow witnessing that feels as sensual as the previous scene, pulling you further down the whirlpool.
Embarrassed enough already, you busy yourself with your hair, accepting the mess that it is, and decide on a simple bun, as much as possible. The practiced moves bring you some sense of calmness and control, even if the result isn’t perfect. The silence helps too, along with his occupancy of tidying up the room.
“Do you want to have some breakfast?” He asks. God, how does he still sound that cheery?
“No, thank you.” You don’t want to keep your father worrying any longer, and it’s not like you’re going to faint. The memory of your last food in the most unpleasant company is still strong enough to expel any thought of hunger.
That answer may be the clearest thought you’ve ever had this morning, yet it is the one that whispers doubt into his heart. You are silent, turned away from him, and far too engrossed in whatever unnecessary thing you’re doing. Because now, he fears that if the two of you leave this room, this building, all your lives in it will be a part of the history, never to be repeated or worse, mentioned again, lost in the torn pages. The joke about residing here for however long- seems awfully bitter, perfectly demonstrating he’d rather hold on to the possibility than put an end to this.
How could that be love?
Perhaps you were right, accusing him of madness.
That’s the only reason he walks out of the room to prepare the carriages, instead of cocooning the both of you in.
===
“Father!” You wrap your arms around him, who’s standing by the main entrance to your estate, waiting anxiously. He does the same, unaffected by the eyes that watch, the staff, and a mere acquaintance, Lord Kenobi.
Now Obi Wan knows who you got your bravery from.
He stands quietly, hands folded in front of him, not sure what to do but damn sure not to leave. He had plenty of time to think about his madness on the road, and decided it was not anything pathological- it was pure love and desperation for you. Isn’t that the nature of most of your meet-ups? Consoling each other in the positively dreadful situations, and utilizing everything to spend a second more together?
He hears you reassuring him of your well-being, and summarize the thing in pretty understated phrases. Even that makes him stutter over his words in a fit of rage. Obi Wan agrees. You distract him by speaking of the help you’ve gotten from a valiant friend, and that’s how he enters the conversation.
“Good morning, Sir.”
How he keeps it all cool, sharing and shaping his anger, silencing any doubt that may arise in him is a surprise, though he’s called a great negotiator for a reason, right? His work in various cases in court has earned him the title. He’s not overtly a fan of flaunting it. Though, it helps him a great deal in this instance.
At least, enough to have a pleasant exchange in these unpleasant circumstances, and secure permission to talk to you again.
Alone.
It is weird enough as it is already, you and him spending the night at some inn, him casually chatting with your father like his clothes haven’t benefitted from the merits of ironing, not to mention his hair being on the wild side after a slight treatment of rain, and now he is requesting your attention? Not only yours, but your father’s too in extent?
His plans have never been so crystal clear.
“No.” You declare your objection so clearly, in one word as the door closes behind him, giving you the privacy of the room. “No, no, no, no.”
“I haven’t even opened my mouth!” He objects, though it is more of a principal thing, than an actual defense. He knows you’ve worked it all out already. God, could he expect anything less from you? Your watery eyes and trembling hands break his heart into a million pieces, reactions so strong even before he has a chance to utter their cause. He caresses his beard, reevaluating if he should continue-
He can’t live with the consequences if he dares not. He can’t live with what-ifs, or not knowing the reason why you are so repulsed by the idea or would you still feel the same, if he told you about his love for you. Of course, that would require some magic, considering the magnitude and intricacy of it. How is he supposed to put the purest feelings he’s ever had to mere words, the origin of the butterflies caged up in his chest, the wires of his brain getting tangled up whenever you’re not around, and the constant intoxication from the strongest liquor he’s ever consumed? He’d rather die than sober up, and a part of him already recognizes that it’s not a possibility. It is his poison and antidote. There’s not a moment that passes without either of them.
And surely, he has no complaints about it. Never will. It is a brave choice, but what’s braver is this moment.
“No.” You repeat, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Your voice is low albeit steady, as much as it can be.
Because you do not lift your eyes to meet him. “You can’t propose to me, because I can’t refuse it. But I will. Then the whole country will wonder what is so wrong with you, and me, and they will talk about it all the time, for years to come. The whispers will be the first thing that you hear in every room you enter, and you’ll see the mischievous glint in the eyes of every person you meet, them scrutinizing whether those rumors are true. Our reputations will be tarnished forever, and we will hate each other for it.” And you can’t stand that.
You don’t sound like this is the first time you’re putting these words together. In all your distressed state, you sound awfully logical in your own way, so focused on one improbable, insane possibility (damn those reputations, he can never hate you), but devising every little detail.
“Why?” He basically hollers, running a hand through his hair. Why does that potential is the one you envision? “Why can’t you marry me?”
One can only dream that someone outside isn’t listening.
“Because- I don’t know!” You take a desperate step closer, showing him your honesty. You truly can’t quite name your aversions, and isn’t that already enough of a reason to stay away, spare the person you’re facing?  “I don’t know how to be a wife! And I am scared. All my life I alienated myself from the idea of a marriage, I methodically dismissed every chance claiming it wasn’t the time, all the way ‘til I would say it was too late. I was content with that idea. Because I love- loved my life the way it is; I get more than I need from my father, and that is to remain unchanged when my brother takes over, and I am free as a bird, unbound by society’s expectations, traveling wherever, wherever and trying new things. I was, I am so happy about it that anything that may alter it I shun from immediately. And now I find myself in a place I never imagined, and I am scared. I don’t know what happens now. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what that future looks like for us.”
He moves towards you, his head tilted sideways in understanding, arms reaching for yours. Finally, finally hearing your justifications, the basis of your attitude, fills him with pride and compassion, and most importantly, gives him an opportunity to help you solve those problems, together. But, you hush him, squeezing his wrists in gentle guidance, with tears streaking across your cheeks. “I just know that I love you. I love you so much that my heart will always feel like a weight in my chest when I’m not with you, like a ship sinking, but never reaching the bottom. And I will continue to love you even if you stop loving me back, but I would rather lose you on my terms than by the burdens a marriage brings.”  
“Why do you so believe that a mere contract would change my feelings? Do you think my affections for you are that fragile?”
You frantically shake your head, causing the drops to fall faster. “No, I’m not saying that-“
“Then what?” He snaps, though not because he’s angry. He wants to learn every single reason that’s keeping you away.
“You don’t know what that will do to us.”
“No, I don’t! And I don’t care! It will never change my feelings.” This, he can shout freely. This is the simplest truth for all his remaining days on this earth.
You don’t know that, you want to object. “Obi Wan…” Is the response that comes out of your mouth. “I am not a good bride.”
“No.”There’s acceptance in his tone, a punch to your guts. “You’re the love of life, my companion, my everything.” When he pulls you even closer, and cups your cheeks, you let him. “Haven’t we been through all the struggles a couple could share already? Haven’t I seen all of you, and let you see all of me? Haven’t you claimed my entire soul, and occupied my every single thought? You made me break my rules, and painted a picture I never thought was suited for me- and I came to like that picture very much. In fact, it’s all I ever want my future to look like, with you in it. You, exactly in the way you already are, with all your unsusceptibility to the norms and striking habits. I know that can be scary. I am afraid too. But, anything worth doing starts like this, I know it. And we’ll be the biggest idiots in the world if we let our fear rule us.”
You can’t help but laugh a little, the joyful sound making his breath hitch. It is reflected on his face too, and it is something you’ll hold on to, alongside the tears that begin to form on his eyes. Fortunately, they sit there, despite him kneeling in front of you, his fingers never leaving the bend of your arm, only to follow the route they create, and hold onto both of your hands. “Please, marry me.”
You’re convinced, but your tongue is still tied, so you nod. Your entire upper body shakes with the gesture in seconds, making you look like an overexcited child, on the verge of losing their balance with the restlessness of their legs. You barely feel him kissing your knuckles before he stands up and embraces you, stabilizing both of you in both physical and emotional terms. Let’s be real, if he kissed you instead as he desperately wished to, you’d fall on the floor (and continue there- ‘til somebody discovered the two of you in very indecent terms). His chuckles quickly become your favorite song, you feel blessed as they delight your ears, and make your chest vibrate like his. He revels in the newfound proximity, despite the fact that you’ve been much, much closer in the past. This is new. This is raw love, uncombined with other emotions, strengthened by the absolute truth that you two are meant for each other, and with the promise of you’ll do something about it. He holds you ‘til your sense of balance is restored, for he now has urgent matters he has to attend to. He’ll get to hold you forever soon, and that revelation doesn’t change the herculean feat of letting you go now. He can’t help but wipe the streaks of wetness on your face, though it forms again. He solely doesn’t repeat himself because of the widest grin on your lips. You press yourself to his palm, eyelids closing for a moment, then place a small peck on it.
 “I- I’m now gonna go and talk to your father, get the papers right- and find a-” oh, that’s not “a”, he is going to require many others even if he keeps everything minimal, “I’ll be back in three, fuck, four hours, okay?”
“What? No!” You exclaim, almost giving him a heart attack.
“What’s wrong?” His fingers tighten, a slight tremble taking over them. You have to smile to get him to relax once again, and raise your eyebrows wittily, as if he is a fool for not imagining it already, reminding him of your nature.
“I’m only doing this once. I want everything to be right.”
He squints his eyes, grasping your chin. There’s a few seconds of silence, the time it takes for his nerves to settle. When it does, you’re struck by the intensity of his blue irises, the condensed calm before the storm. “So you want to stay as my fiance ‘til the next season starts, in eight months, succumbing to waiting as we get no freedom to ourselves, always in the center stage, enjoying the last of our bachelor states, the lonely nights and beds bigger than you can ever occupy.”
His other hand, wandering across your waist tells you exactly what he implies. While you actually weren’t planning on such a thing, it causes a surge of rush to overtake you, burning you from the inside. Pursing your lips as you free your face from his grip, with a contradicting shaky breath, you say. “I was always fond of winter weddings…”
To this, he laughs, echoing in the room, and you join him.
One can only hope whoever outside listens to this too, this moment of pure joy preserved in one more mind.
 === 
 “I couldn’t be happier to be married to you.” Obi Wan whispers, but the sentence is loud and clear to you, etched into where he takes nest in the crook of your neck, hot breaths burning your skin.
“We’re still not- ngh“ Yes, this is supposed to be the rehearsal, the night before the main event. You two should be at the reception downstairs, among your many relatives and friends and other members of the society, all gathered for tomorrow morning, when these words of yours will be invalid.
Of course, you are further making a hypocrite of yourself by the way you hold onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms locked around his shoulders as he burrows his cock into you. It was impossible to wait any further, as you were separated by the whole ordeal of preparations and the watchful eyes. The moment you found a clearing, you two slipped away, cue to now, where your back on the wall as he supports you against it. You didn’t even get one meter away from the door, you could basically reach the knob with a simple extension of your elbow, but in the end, who cares? Who cares when he fills you so deliciously, scratching the itch that has been building for some time, peppering you with all the love in his heart?
Still, your sentence is cut abruptly as he drives his hips faster, rougher- very much an act of pedantry, advising not to get lost in the details. It works, the correction dies on your tongue, though a quite loud moan takes its place. His hand flies to cover your mouth, and your eyes pop open, meeting his. The pressure of his palm against your face almost forces another sound out of you. Fuck, you adore those blue storms, even when they are focused elsewhere, turned to the door as if it can see past behind it, scanning for intruders. You do actually whimper when the danger dissolves, the vibrations running among his bones, and he keeps up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.
However, it is getting harder in terms of balance as he now has one hand to stabilize you, and despite your best efforts, it is quite hard not to slide off of the smooth fabric of his clothes. Remorsefully, you push on his shoulders, and he understands, pulling his cock out of you and burying his mouth on your skin. He stifles a sob in there, the frustration getting the best of him.
“Oh, you definitely had too much wine.” Look at who’s talking, you with those wobbly legs and bitten lips…
“No, I just had too little of you.”
Your heart flaps its wings out of your chest, as it does after his every cheesy compliment. You still cannot figure out how he makes you blush harder with those words, even as he ravages you in the meantime.
You reach for a kiss, it is always a good idea. He hums contently at the touch, grateful at the most basic form of contact. Obi Wan rocks against you unintentionally, and that’s how the unsatiated desire wages war, with desperate groans and roaming hands.
Then, his fingers tighten around your waist, and you find yourself supported against the vanity with your open palms, depositing most of your weight there (thank God, because you couldn’t trust your feet much longer). He pulls your hips back to his. Your back arches in a way that is most complementary to his chest, and fuck, it is a vision.
It literally is.
Fluttering your eyes open for only a second (that was your intention at least), you’re struck down with the image of the two of you in the mirror, faces contorted in the prettiest way that is possible in this dirty position, heavy lids and open mouths, fingertips whitened by the strong grasp you have on each other, the matching colors of your outfits…
Yes, even with that detail, you’re still on his side, agreeing you’d be idiots if you weren’t doing this.
Deciding to take the sight from its direct source, you turn your head to the side a little, looking at the adonis of a man you’ll soon call your husband, with his neatly trimmed beard and prominent cheekbones and long eyelashes you are slightly jealous of and so much more…
He meets your gaze, breathless with similar thoughts, that little tug on the corner of his mouth telling you all you need to know, but then he nudges your face to its previous state by a small clasp of your chin, and you’re watching him through the reflection, leaning forward when he starts to fumble with your skirt once again.
The moan that leaves you is totally incapable of being unobscured as he enters you anew. The change in the angle along with the visual stimulation has you teetering on the edge quite easily, like him, but he denies it, maintaining slow movements and choking out any noise that dares to leave him.
Of course, all is impeded when the door is knocked-
“Occupied!”
“Occupied!”
Your voices are synchronized, high and tight. The clock stops for a moment for your bodies, as if the stationary status makes it any less scandalous, and both of you fixated on the doorknob.
It never turns. Never.
Still, the dilated pupils remain a little longer, joined over the mirror, with big puffs of breath and shaking hands.
“Do you think they-“ There’s not an exact word that you can find to explain what has just occurred, but the sentiment is clear.
“Probably.” And the answer too is just as clear.
Well, the only thing lost is the trivial achievement of never being discovered before the wedding.
A wedding which is hours away.
So, you push back, wiggling your hips. His unrestricted sound is all you need to regain your spirits back, and you do it once more. Just like that, the wheels are turning. 
“You realize there’s a bed behind us, right?” He asks as he slowly thrusts into you.
“Yes, but I like the view better here.” 
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yiminsuu · 1 year
Text
No Control
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Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader
Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.
Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!
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Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.
"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.
Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"
"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons. 
I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.
Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.
The bulge in his pants was massive. 
A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?
Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me? 
No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"
"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.
"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..." 
Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me. 
I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.
"I'm sorry..."
Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.
The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.
My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse. 
If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...
He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!
I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.
We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.
My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.
Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap. 
Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.
I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."
I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while." 
Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"
I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."
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