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#i thought this was a lil crush that was gonna last! you know! a couple of weeks!
jwirecs · 10 months
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RECOMMENDED SEVENTEEN FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖
hello, hello! here are my recs for seventeen for november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite
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Loud Leather & Loud Thoughts || @bitchlessdino💕💔✅💯
↳ Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you’re questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed?. (bitchlessdino aint gon be bitchless no longer cause honey, i will be on my knees for your fics. biker!wonwoo is my new guilty pleasure.)
Too Much || @hannieehaee🔞💕✅💯💯
↳ after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up. (the last time i had a massage, i swear i thought the masseuse broke my arm cause of a loud pop. scared me and the masseuse LMAO, but we okay. but can you imagine, cheols hands....im just gonna stop there. let the imagination run)
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Always Only You || @honeyhotteoks🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯
↳ the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead. (brb imma need a hot minute to relive this fic. like no joke, my ass will be in the corning if you need me. bottom line, i absolutely loved this one)
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5 More Minutes || @qmrzi💕✅
↳ jihoon is working on a song before your date together and you got impatient. (he really would be the type to say 5 more minutes of work before a date. desperate times calls for desperate measures. i respect the oc's hustle.)
Bedroom Exclusive || @onlyhuis🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ seeing your boyfriend on tv kissing another girl definitely doesn't feel good, but he's got plenty of time to make it up to you. and he plans on letting you know that you're the only one on his mind. (AFTER THAT VID OF HIM IN THAT DRAMA WITH THAT ONE SCENE???? OHHHHHHHHHHHHH CHILD. another fic where i had to take a moment to breathe after i finished reading it. that says a whole lot my friends.)
Just The Tip || @euphor1a🔞💕💔✅💯💯
↳ he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin? (you gotta give it to mingyu for resisting the urge throughout the story. flash a titty and this man will crumble to the ground. i love it.)
Now You're Safe With Me || @thedensworld💕💔✅💯
↳ Seungcheol received several missed calls from you, and he knew they weren't just regular phone calls. (stop this bby boy will drop heaven and earth to be with his boo. lets all pray that i get a man like him.)
Spotted: Woozi At Couples Therapy? || @mphountitled🔞💕💔✅
↳ A kink confession in couple's therapy might just save your relationship (i think its safe to say that this man is lowkey kinky af. lets be real. the dudes prob kinky.)
Sweet Home || @mangocustard16💕✅
↳ Mingyu returns home after a grueling practice to find you asleep on the couch, having waited for him despite his advice not to. He lifts you into his arms, shares a loving dinner, and the two of you cuddle in each other's embrace. (god soft mingyu is cute af. SOMEONE GET ME A MINGYU PLS)
To Be In Love || @daegutowns💕✅
↳ (a lil ol fic of oc's relationship with cheol. ngl oc is literally the mom of the group now. adopted 11 other children once they got with cheol. i love that for them)
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Bloodily Safe || @starlightxsvt🔞💕✅💯
↳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive? (oooh child. this one. had me questioning what the heck do i read on here, but then again, i fully enjoyed it LMAO)
Clingy || @facioleeknow💕💔✅
↳ Anon Req: hi!! saw that you're taking request!! how about something like jeonghan get annoyed by the reader because he thinks reader is too clingy lately so he decided to put some distance, end up with something bad happens to reader and he regrets everything he did? angst to fluff pls thank u so much 😭🫶 (oooh mean jeonghan is lowkey my guilty pleasure. someone give me some more mean jeonghan which turns into fluff please.)
Creep || @smileysuh🔞✅💯💯💯
↳ “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now.  (ngl, i hope theres gonna be a second part just about how they would like overcome(????) the hardships(?????????) idk if those are the right words. but like how they would deal with one being a ghost and all that jazz. like down the line how will that work out. BUT other than that, i honestly love their fics to god.)
Driving Lessons For Dummies || @shuaflix🔞💕✅
↳ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment. (lowkey got a fear of driving but thats something else LMAO. i respect all of the driving teachers, cause like they risking their life essentially, so i respect hoshi for risking his life with teaching the oc driving. goodluck to my future boo cause imma be the passenger princess in the relationship.)
In Between Notes || @som1ig💕💔✅
↳ after complaining for the hundredth time to your friends, you finally manage to take time to read a book unrelated to law studies. since you can’t borrow it, you decide to leave a note on the page where you left off with a comment. the next day, when you come back to reread it, you surprisingly find a note replacing yours. someone read the same book as you and answered you. then begin an epistolary exchange through notes and book, until it suddenly stops. and no, you won’t give up until you find who your correspondent was. (minghao is such a cutie, stop. connecting through notes through a book is adorable af. literally cinderella)
Love You Twice || @toruro🔞💕💔🔄
↳ in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn. (teacher woo is satan. dont come for me but yall know this man probably has 0 patience. no scratch that, this man has too much patience. he will wait if he has to. step daddy woo. yes pls)
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Accidentally Ditching You On your Bday || @hannieehaee💔✅
↳ (title says it all. i love how i can just put myself in the oc's shoes and FEEL THE EMOTIONS. when you arent in a relationship, you through yourself in the oc shoes and live through them. that being said, them boys who "accidentally" ditch you on your birthday can choke on a piece of rice. with love.)
Petite S/O Trying to Kiss Them || @seokminded💕✅💯
↳ (its the hhu again - im short, most us females are short so we can highly relate to this struggle. LMAO)
Playfully Dodging Their Kisses || @mangocustard16💕✅💯
↳ (its the hhu but, do you hear their pouts??? you can literally hear their pouts. each any every one of them i swear to god.)
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Forgetting Your B-Day || @toruro💕💔✅
↳ (there isnt a summary but - 95 line forgetting your birthday. brb let me go quickly cry, as someone who doesnt really celebrate their birthday as like a big thing since we just aging, but this would hit me hard if i was in a relationship ngl.)
Do check out all of the other seventeen fics that i have reblogged as well!!
** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **
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n6ptunova · 10 months
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concerts • matt sturniolo
a/n: first matt post!! idk how i feel abt this one but i’ll post another matt one soon hope y’all like ittt
summary: you and matt go to a dominic fike concert together.
warnings: nothing just a lil fluff? not proofread.
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“guys guys guys!” you repeated, getting the triplets and madi’s attention.
“dominic fike is gonna be performing at camp flog gnaw, let’s go pleaseee,” you practically begged. dominic fike was one of your favourite artists and you knew the boys, especially matt, liked him too so there’s no way they’ll refuse.
“are you kidding? we have to go! when is it?” matt reciprocated your excitement.
“it’s this sunday, i know someone who can get us tickets on short notic-”
“oh, this sunday is the lil skies show we told you about.. a couple of our friends are going so we can’t cancel last minute sorry,” chris interrupted looking guilty that he let you down. you declined going to the lil skies show before since you don’t really listen to him.
“that’s okay, i’ll look for someone else to go with i guess,” you were kinda disappointed.
see, when you first befriended the triplets you instantly clicked with nick and chris, but matt was a little harder to crack…or maybe your crush on him made it difficult to say a word. but when the topic of music and dominic fike was brought up, that was the first time you two really bonded and it became your little thing.
one time you had a particularly bad day, you were stressed and going through a lot with your job, college and friends that you started to isolate yourself. matt noticed you hadn’t been answering his texts or hanging out with them for a while.
so without telling his brothers he drove all the way to your house, you were so embarrassed of him seeing you in this state. but all he cared about was your well-being. he sat down next to you and listened intently to your venting without interrupting. he held you in his arms and rubbed your back as you cried and let it all out. he made you feel safe and comfortable.
“get up,” he said as you calmed down. he took you by the hand and gestured for you to go to your room. confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and turned to give him a questioning look.
“wash your face and change into something comfortable, just trust me.” that was all you needed to hear as you went to do exactly what he said. once you were done, he took your hand again and led you outside to his car where he opened the passenger door for you and closed it gently after you were seated.
“where are we going?” you asked as he got adjusted in the driver’s seat.
“somewhere, anywhere, i didn’t really think this through ngl,” he giggled nervously, “but whenever i felt down, going for a drive and listening music always helped, so i thought it would help you too- this is goofy it probably won’t i’m sor-”
“that’s perfect, matt.” you smiled trying to hide the creeping blush on your face. seeing how caring and nervous he is right now made you feel giddy inside. he smiled back shyly and started the car.
you got takeout and listened to dominic fike the entire time, singing your hearts out and laughing at how awful you both sounded, at how silly you probably looked playing an air guitar, but you didn’t care. you’ve never felt so free and happy and without realizing it you were falling more and more for matt.
eventually he parked in a dark, deserted area and opened the roof of the car, “this is the best place for stargazing, it always calmed me down,” he said making you both look up at the stars.
you sat in silence for a few minutes listening to his playlist shuffle. until ‘why’ by dominic fike started playing and you both sat up straight singing and dancing along, you singing extra loud relating to the lyrics and matt admiring you, happy he got you out of your bad mood.
this was the beginning of your “little thing”, you regularly went cruising together listening to dom, and eventually it turned into you two hanging out alone more often. that’s why you wanted to go to the concert. it was your thing. but live this time.
“i’ll go with you,” matt blurted.
“you will?”
“yeah, i’ve already seen skies plenty. not passing up on this opportunity,” there was a sudden tension in the room between you two, you knew what he meant. the others remained clueless as you both shared a knowing smile.
the day of the concert you felt a bit anxious, maybe it was seeing dom for the first time, or going to a concert alone with matt, or both. it seemed like a couple-y thing to do. it also didn’t help that matt was acting like your boyfriend.
holding your hand, guiding you everywhere, placing his hand on your lower back or around your arm while squeezing past the crowd of people. he even told you you look pretty, which he never did before.
as dom opened with one of his songs you were already screaming and jumping in excitement causing matt to chuckle at how cute you were. you spent the entire time reenacting your cruising time but live in concert, singing, dancing, jumping around.
some lyrics you would sing to each other looking straight into the other’s eyes. it felt like you were the only two people there. the last song that played was ‘why’, you both shared a look remembering the first time you hung out alone. you wanted to sing along so badly but the way matt was looking at you made you forget where you were and what you were doing.
you were suddenly nervous again, he looked so beautiful with the light hitting his face, his hair messed up from jumping around, and his face flushed from how cramped it was. you wanted to kiss him so bad.
luckily, he was thinking the same thing as he slid one hand up your neck, cupping your jaw and the other on your waist and leaned in to kiss you. no one would believe you but fireworks actually started going off in that same moment almost representing how you both felt from the inside. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer deepening the kiss while he smiled against your lips relieved that you reciprocated his feelings.
as you both pulled away the song got to the more upbeat part, he held your hand and you started singing along again with a new rush of adreline running through your veins lasting the entirety of the show.
on the way home you got some food and talked about the night you had and your feelings for each other. safe to say you don’t relate to ‘why’ anymore but it’ll forever be a special song to you and matt.
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b00tyliciousbabe · 1 year
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my baby daddies - ep. 1
my comeback era xx
arón piper x male reader
summary: inside edition the slutty thoughts i have for mr piper xx
notes: hi ppl, hope y’all missed me. i’m back, after like a year of hibernation, with another imagine! hope you guys are all doing well <3 i will be releasing 2 other series (‘the DILFs’ and a surprise one 🤭) so stay tuned! plus y’all better thank me, I lost this draft not once, but TWICEEEE! happy with this iteration though.
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apologies in advance y’all this is gonna be chaotic…and my spanish is very rusty.
you met arón on the set of ‘elite’ because you were in between working with the hair and makeup team whilst designing the costumes. You had familiarised yourself with the entire crew and made loads of friends but from day 1 it was clear that your connection with him was unparalleled. the pinnacle of romantic chemistry. it’s giving one of those moments in the films when the two lovers have their meet cute, staring into each others eyes and the rest of the world is just in their peripheral because at that moment only two people exist - you and him. From then on, the whole crew shipped you guys together, with your work besties ester (who plays carla) and mina (who plays nadia) urging you to make out with him. He too was not exempt from this teasing, and a lot of his fellow male cast mates lowkey pressured him to ask you out. Whilst the premiere was coming up, you began sorting out the final designs for the next season, he ran into the studio wearing nothing but calvin briefs.
“Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” He said desperately. You were taken aback. You’d never seen someone look so hot while they were needy.
“hey arón, what seems to be the problem?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “can’t you see I’m practically naked?” You bit your lips taking in all of him “failing to see the issue here” which garnered a chuckle from him. “please y/n i’m so lost right now, i have no clue what to do” arón began panting which made you panic a lil bit. Placing your hands on his chest, you calmed his beating heartbeat “it’s okay, you know i’ve got you” Pulling one of your personal designs from the rack, you dressed him like he was your ken doll.
“i can do my own buttons you know,” he smiled watching you concentrate and manipulate the fabric to accentuate his features “i know but you wouldn’t be able to execute the vision i had for you in my mind” his eyes softened “you base your designs off me?” you looked up and met his gaze. “i’m not tryna give you a big head or anything, because it’s already quite elliptical, but kinda i guess.” he giggled as you watched his smile make his face look even cuter. “awww you got a lil crush on me,” aròn chuckled as you playfully beat his chest. “i mean, you’re handsome af I’ll give you that,” you felt his chest heaving with passion “why do you ask?” aròn held both your hands stopping you from working. “y/n,” you look up, all doe-eyed, surprised at the lack of distance between your lips. he breathed closer, opening the gates to your mouth as he graced you with a peck that lasted what felt like ages. the rest was history; that night he debuted the two of you as a couple to which was met with so much love.
you are at your gushiest whenever aròn smiles. it just makes you feel so happy seeing him so cute and all. stroking his cheek in the morning staring at him grinning in his sleep - probably dreaming of you.
the art of communication has always been strong in your relationship. your spanish-german bf was trilingual and meeting you pushed him to learn more on the side. your spanish was decent, certainly nothing to be proud but it improved drastically working on the show and being with aron. you were also highly proficient in two other languages and so he was adding to your roster. your relationship with him was a testament to the betterment of both people in a couple, you both pushed each other to try new things.
aron’s love language is definitely physical touch closely followed by gift giving, and so it made sense that he would buy you jewellery (even giving you his own) so he could both adore and adorn you. your favourite present he’s ever given you was the ‘A’ necklace he flaunts in a lot of his insta posts. he just loves seeing it around your neck - he’s yours. he even has an ‘A’ tattoo that now always reminds him of you.
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even in the bedroom the necklace pays a huge role:
“my pretty little muñequita, fuck you feel so good.” he praised, railing you painstakingly slowly in missionary. you watched his eyes mirroring your overstimulated expression, as it darkened with his desire for more. you moved to his necklace which swung gracefully with every deep thrust. “ughhh” aròn’s moans got even loader you picked the pendant up and put it in between his teeth to muffle him. the sweat began to drip off his face as he began to imprint his teeth into the crystals, groaning in pleasure. “Nghhhh nghhh nghhh” it was getting too much for him as he dropped it, all red, hot, and bothered, directly into your mouth. You bit it seductively making your bf smile. other times when he’s hitting it from the back in prone bone, your hot bodies are cooled by the ice around his neck providing an amazing sensation when he spurts his warm cum inside you.
aròn is pretty decently hung, a bit on the skinnier side, nothing monstery, but deffo larger than average and it bends to the left. his favourite position is probably missionary; he wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you. the moans, your eyes, your lips, he wants to soak it all up and treasure every single expression you make whilst he’s inside you. you really like cowgirl as you’ve noticed it gets the most laughs and smiles from him, your biggest weakness. aròn loves it as well. the sight of you holding his pecs, bouncing up and down his pole as he grabs your ass sends him into overdrive. “shit mi amor, ughh, fuck, you sure know how to ride my dick.”
his kryptonite is oral. he’s such a whore for that mouth of yours. you guys waited for quite a while to have any nsfw activity because you wanted to establish a deep romantic connection first. so about 6 months into your relationship, you gave him head for the first time and OH MY GOSHHHH. you were coming back from date night, aròn wore an unbuttoned white dress shirt with chains and rings, all styled by you. it was raining and y’all decided to walk around the city and so tour chivalrous boyfriend offered his blazer to stop you from getting cold. you had never been more attracted to him. the way his wet hair laid messy on his head, abs protruded through his drenched shirt, it turned you on. so when you got into his apartment, you grabbed his hand and took him into the bedroom.
“despacio baby” he chuckled. you pushed him onto the bed, straddling and welcoming him with a kiss. you felt him grow beneath your ass, a sign for you to get on your knees. “y/n, wait what are you doing” aròn says as you began to unbuckle his pants. you didn’t hear, your brain too loud with horny thoughts to answer him. “cariño…” he held your hands at his belt. “are you sure you want to do this.” he asked worriedly, knowing how important sex was to you. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life” you mirrored his smirk, as he moved his hands, unbuttoning his shirt whilst you pulled his pants to his trousers. His tan cock stood strong, pink tip peaking through his freckled foreskin. he had a light brown bush leading up to his happy trail, urging you to lick down from his abs to his balls. “I’m so hard right now,” you started bobbing up and down and noticed how much of a panter he was. when he was close you started to deepthroat, to which he responded with a loud moan, yanking his dick out of your mouth and giving you the nastiest facial ever.
fucking loved it, as if he couldn’t love you more already…you were such a cockdrunk slut for him.
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music plays a huge part of your relationship. when you guys are in the sheets, the symphony that comes from your bedroom is actually next level. oftentimes, aròn catches you humming and singing in the shower, to your embarrassment. “why are you hiding your face, your voice is incredible.” he praises. for his upcoming album, whilst in the studio, you came to check up on your bf bringing your freshly homemade brownies that you knew he loved. you knew aròn had been having a bit of a hard time completing one of the final tracks. as his team listened back to the record your bf was getting frustrated “ughhh it’s shit!” as he growled chucking song sheets across the room. “y/n you’ve got to speak to him, no one else is getting through to him and we are on a tight deadline” the executives who were present at the times warned. “he’ll be ready, i can assure you” you urged everyone else to leave the room. “aròn.” he didn’t answer. your tone softened, “papí…” you moved to him, noticing how tense he was getting. he looked up at you with teary eyes, hurting at how anxious he was getting. you knew what to do. “come on.” he followed u back into the recording booth. the track was playing, and all you did was talk, he spoke about his issues with fame, love, and life, and it was the perfect outro/interlude. you also added background vocals and harmonies into his tracks and the media went wild for it!
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tamtamandtim · 6 months
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So I’ve finished Moominvalley season 2 (2019) and my god I loved it but it hurt me so much in return holy wow. Anyway if you’d like some of my thoughts about it feel free to keep reading ^-^
(fair warning it’s a lot longer than I thought it’d be)
Episode 2 the fire spirit got me so bad in my feelings and even funnier yet I could tell it would by not only the title and thumbnail but the second I heard the song by cavetown I literally was like ‘hm it sounds like something by cavetown…This should be fine’
oh how wrong I was because of how it ended with the little fire spirit sacrificing itself to save Moominvalley and how upset Snufkin was, he seemed to be pretty attached to the lil goober when the gang dropped it off.
So having his care and attempts to protect it, be basically for nothing would’ve been soul crushing for him.
Holywow I loved how the Hobgoblin and Sniff were just bouncing off eachother so well. Then the Hobgoblin giving Sniff ✨EMPATHY✨ my god that was amazing, especially with how Moominpapa and Little My were like “ew get away from me”
I love how the Groke is now just becoming a more casual part of the community especially with the trial episode, like don’t get me wrong they’re still uneasy with her presence but they still wanted to give her a fair trial and everything.
Ooooh no the ✨The bad feelings✨ I was having about Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll were riiiighttttt. Moomintroll seemed more angry about having to leave the valley (and Snufkin by association) than leaving Snorkmaiden to the point he was unintentionally hurting her. Twice. Technically thrice if you include the fact they broke up. But I’m glad that Moomintroll is beginning to learn that he’s gonna have to accept a couple of things about Snufkin, if he ever wants him to stay. But still kinda hurts a bit.
I loved that Moominpapa and Moominmama have character arcs that don’t involve getting divorced, it’s refreshing and sure they still fight and have moments being mad at eachother but at the end of the day they still love each other and honestly? I love them for that.
Ah Moominpapas midlife crisis, I hope that I can be able to just pack up and go when I hit mine. Sounds like the dream honestly and I wish I could be as creative as Moominmama, just painting the walls with no worries.
I also LOVED the sea shanties just 👌😩 it brings me so much joy because there was a good chunk of time where that’s all I’d listen too.
The last episode though also gave me a gut punch because of the fact Snufkin came back before he left for the winter, and that he just welcomes himself in because he knows that they wouldn’t mind him being there, regardless of if they are or not. I hate it here. Snufkin you found family fuck. And that everyone there played ‘The Moomin Family’ for the kid.
“Have you checked his bedroom yet?”
“Naturally c:”
of course you have you absolute loser I love you for that. Seeing him get so excited about possibly finding HIS letter, only to be disappointed was devastating too.
Oh but the puppet show, oh when I tell you I almost cried, It’s even sadder that Moomintroll (seemingly) isn’t going to back to Moominvalley. Also my heart dropped to my ass when they almost lit the fire with the ancestors inside, but Snufkin excitedly finding the note inside the fireplace? Put my heart right back in my throat
But more lightheartedly damn Snufkin has got some moves and seeing everyone close to the Moomin family looking back at their time and memories together fondly was so incredibly sweet.
Anyways TL;DR a super strong season that got me right in the feels every time, I’m so excited to be able to start the 3rd season soon!! But thank you so much for reading this! I hope you have a wonderful day, night or time and take care!!
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silent-raven13 · 5 months
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The Drums of Libration!!!!
Miles happily skips to his boyfriend holding his hands, "Hobie baby! You excited for our next tattoo?"
"Yeah, Sunflower! It'll be our first matching tattoos." Hobie grins happily at their tattoos on the piece of paper Miles drew. "Where you gonna get this one?"
"Oh my shoulder, here." Miles pointed at his right shoulder at the side. "What about you?"
"I think on my chest, I have space here." He place a finger in between his pecks. The two went to one popular tattoo shop in Brooklyn where the tattoo artist is known for their Anime and cartoons designs and Miles really wanted one of his work on him.
When they got to the Tattoo Shop, they saw the very decorative graffiti style with cartoons, anime, and other colorful vivid images. When they went inside the shop, Miles happily went to the front desk to tell them about their appointment for their tattoos.
Hobie stood seeing a mix of different types of people sitting and waiting for their own appointment. One girl with bright blue hair and neon outfits, another in a girly pink dress that looks like a maid outfit and she wore a pink wig. Then a man with a basic fit of shirt and sweats. Another Goth, Punker, and so on. Hobie nodded in approval of this place seeing how welcoming it is.
"Alright, who's next?" The tattoo artist came out wearing a black tank with a Jamaican flag on it, having medium locks hairstyle and piercings on his ears and one on his nose. A tall dark skinned male with tight grey jeans and boots, then grins as he spotted Miles, "Aye, my brother! What's good, man?"
"Hey, Trey! How you been, man!" Miles went over to hug him being happy to see him.
Trey happily picks him up showing him big love with his big hugs, "MMM! Man, haven't gotten the Morales hug in a while." He chuckles. Hobie frowns at this, he knew his boyfriend knows the tattoo artist, but he didn't expect them to be so chummy with one another. "Where have you been? You missed last Anime-Con!"
"Hahaha, been super busy man." Miles gave a sheepish smile as he got down from the hug, "This upcoming one I promise I'll be there with Ganke!" Trey was getting close into Miles' personal space like enough that it look like they were more than something.
The punker clears his throat, "Ahem," Then got between his Sunflower and the tattoo artist. Trey had to take a step back noticing the tall Punker wrapping his arms around Miles' waist being protective and sneering at him like you-be-warned.
"Oh this is my boyfriend, Hobie! Remember I told you about him!"
"Ohh, so this is the British boi!" Trey chuckles in amusement, "Do you prefer tea and crumpets in Britain, ole chap?" Using a fake British accent, being a bit funny and amused. "Pardon. Pardon. I just joke."
"Hah, I prefer a good ale and fish n' chips with mi Sunflower. Yuh pretty chatty chatty, eh?" Hobie rested his chin on his Sunflower's nape of his shoulder.
Trey took in Hobie's faded Jamaican accent then nodded with a grin, "Aye, man. I'm only picking fun, besides Miles is a good friend of mine."
"Bae, don't be so mean. Trey is a fun guy. I thought you guys would click." Miles happily said.
For Hobie, it takes a while for him to be friends with people especially when he can tell someone eyes on his beloved Sunflower. He knows that look Trey is giving toward Miles, it's almost too flirty like a crush. Nope, he did not like him. Not one bit. "Hahaha, looks like I piss him off, lil Sun." Trey chuckles.
"Sun?" Hobie asked out loud.
Miles giggles, "It's a nickname Trey gave me. No biggie."
"No biggie? The Punker asked being a bit jealous at the way Trey laughs along with Miles.
"Yeah, he calls me, Ace!" He grins widely.
Hobie pouted at the two laughing and talking. "So, you two got an appointment? Sweet, you're with me and Monica?" Trey asked the couple.
"Yeah, we want this tattoo!" Miles took his drawing to show his friend, "Hehehe."
"Ohh yes!" Trey's golden eyes gleams with joy, "I didn't know your boi like One Piece!"
"He became a fan after years of forcing him to watch it!" The Black Latino smiles having to snuggle his punker, "Right, bae?"
"I rarely watch cartoons on the telly." The Punker shrugs.
Trey patted on Hobie's back with a thumbs up, "You have my approval, man!" The Punker's eyes bulge out when he saw Trey having the Sun Pirate tattoo on the back of his neck, "Yes sir! Yes, sir! Yes, sir! My brother heard the drums of libration! Welcome to the Sun Pirate Gang-GANG, man!" He happily grab Hobie's shoulders shaking him.
Miles happily laughs feeling like this was deja vu except it's his boyfriend experiencing this. "We love the story of the Sun Pirates and thought to get one together!!"
"Nice! Nice! Come on, then! I'll be happy to tattoo this!" Trey put one arm around Hobie's neck having to drag him into the back, while Miles follows. "Monica! Work with Miles, okay?"
"OKay, Trey." A dark skinned woman dressed in Goth clothing nodded. "Hey, Miles. What do you want?"
While Hobie went with Trey and his Sunflower went with the other tattoo artist, Miles happily talk with Monica. It's weird to see how quiet the punker got with Trey. Maybe it was his jealousy.
"So, how long you and Miles been together?" The tattoo artist saw where Hobie want's his tattoo.
"Oh man, like seven years?"
"Damn, that's fucking crazy? How old are you?" Trey began preparing Hobie's chest by shaving the hairs off.
Hobie grins, "Twenty three."
"A year older, huh? Not bad. Not bad, man." He said.
"How long you knew Miles?"
"Oh I met him through Ganks through social media, he saw one of my tattoos and booked it. Then we got together to go to Anime-con. That was like three years ago?" He asked trying to remember.
"Oh really? I haven't heard of you. Not to sound like an ass."
"Eh, I come and go. I travel a lot." Trey pointed at his shirt, "I went to Jamaica for three months to visit my dad's side of the family not too long ago."
"Oh really? What's your last name?"
"Rollins, well Jason Rollins. You can say the British has got my fam, too." Trey chuckles lowly.
Hobie laughs the same, "Yuh, bunch of wankers."
Trey laughs as he got ready to put the paper with some blue ink stain to put on Hobie's chest. "Yeah, no good comes from colonization. That's why we are soldiers of Libration! We believe in Joyboy!" He proud should off his One Piece pirate flag on his left arm being proud.
"We are Warriors of Libration." Hobie grins widely.
After the tattoo, Miles happily went to show his shoulder off. "Thanks Monica. It came out fire! Did you like yours, baby?" He asked his punker having to wrap his arms around his punker's waist and smiles.
"Yeah, luv. it came out fucking Ace." Hobie smiles to give a kiss at his partner.
Trey grins widely, "I told you we be friends, Miles."
"Hahaha, I knew you guys would get along. Once you passed my bae's jealousy attitude." Miles giggles as he takes out his wallet to be ready to pay the tattoos.
"Bollicks. I wasn't jealous." Hobie scoffs.
Trey snickers while Miles gave him a look, "Oh yeah?" He was about to get close to Miles until Hobie stops him.
"Aye, man. That's my Sunflower." He hugs his boyfriend being protective again.
"Bae! You're too funny." Miles gives kisses on his punker's cheek, "Trey, be careful. My boo doesn't play with me being involved.
"Noted." Trey chuckles in amusement.
Hobie huffs as he kept being protective of his darling.
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mrlivingdude · 10 months
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I know like
Maybe one of the people I did Pikmin rp with actually read these posts (do you read these Mang?) but I was like "shit man I never explained the Alyn dandelions!!"
Basically Alyn was really bad at connecting with people his whole school life cuz he always thought himself to be much, much smarter than everyone else. He'd try to make friends, but they would stop talking near instantly as Alyn thought they were boring . There was only ever one person who really did make him feel special, who I never did think of a name for, so let's call him Jeremiah. Jeremiah, in all honesty, was not a friend to Alyn. He treated him like shit. Ignoring what he said, never trying to spark conversation, but nothing physical. Alyn did...somehow grow feelings for Jeremiah, mostly cuz his brain said "this is the only other smart guy it's destiny!!" and he kinda blinded himself to all of it. Jeremiah knew this. He would commonly playfully flirt with Alyn, leaving him wanting more, but never getting it. One faithful night, Jeremiah had taken Alyn out to a dandelion field. The two sat down in the dandelion field next to each other, and then Jeremiah started talking. "Y'know Alyn.." Jeremiah started "You're kinda like a dandelion". He plucked one out from the field, and held it up to his face. Alyn started blushing, and even giggled a bit, flattered Jeremiah would compare him to this flower. But he continued. Jeremiah breathed heavily onto the dandelion, making a seed fly off. "The stem of one, at least. You can't keep your 'friends' with you" Jeremiah smirked, as Alyn's face of joy(reference!!) turned into one of confusion, and a bit of worry. Jeremiah blew the rest of the seeds off, and turned to Alyn, to be greeted by his face of sadness. Jeremiah laughed in his face, crumbling many dandelions on the floor as he rolled around. Once he'd finally stopped laughing, he stood up and stretched, while cracking a couple jokes Alyn doesn't remember, so neither do I!! He walked off, and that was the last time they really talked. Alyn pretty much didn't start conversation with anybody for the rest of his school life. Feeling as though he had nowhere to go, at least on his planet, he spent his time learning how to build spaceships. All his life became was do your schoolwork, do your homework, work on your spaceship, sleep. It took him a while, but eventually he got it. And he travelled to the Pikmin RP Colony planet (is it js PNF-404????)
Actually roleplay plans were for Alyn to eventually run off in tears at...something and for someone to try and comfort him, where he would then tell them this story, but we never made it. And for those of you wondering, he had some feelings for Dawn, he's a lil bozo who develops crushes quickly (hmm I wonder where I thought of that character trait from)
By the end of his story he would've seen dandelions as a symbol of the people he cares about most, and how he'd grown since the days of Jeremiah.
Originally Jeremiah was gonna be a lot less..shitty and just have not talked to Alyn, but being led on cuz someone playfully flirts is oh my god im projecting onto alyn
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theinconveniencing · 9 months
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was looking for levana fanart to reblog and came across a post about a lunar chronicles titanic au and I didn't read the post but the idea has captured me so here's my ranking of how well the lunar chronicles couples could do jack and rose
cinder and kai. where kai is rose and cinder is jack of course. and cinders lil sidekick guy I forgot the name of is iko and torin is molly brown. the guy who gets crushed by the smokestack is levana. it's all perfect. can you tell is been a year since I saw this movie and I wasn't paying attention. but cinder and kai would be So much fun in this. they're just as annoying as jack and rose for sure🫶 also they kind of Did the stollen heart of the ocean thing already. in a way. food for thought. 
winter and jacin. do I think jacin has the whimsey to pull off jack dawson? no but a girl can dream. winter's already sort of a rose figure so she could easily pull that off. she'd be doing all the leg work in this scenario obviously. and as we know jacin would do anything for winter and winter would only let jacin die (freeze to death) if she didn't think that was actually gonna happen.
scarlet and wolf. scarlet could do jack ("you wanna go to a real party?" "you've never had a tomato?") and I really didn't think wolf could be rose at first but I have a vision now. him being locked into the pack could definitely parallel being stuck in a suffocating upper class life with a controlling family. you see the vision. unlike jacin and winged and my big reason why they're down so low is that wolf simply would make room for scarlet on that door if it was the last thing he did.
cress and thorne. thorne is already very jack dawson in like everything he does. but that's really all I can see for this. I just simply can't imagine cress in a rose like scenario especially more towards the beginning of us knowing her sorry girl. this just really doesn't work for them
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canongf-archive · 2 years
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happy 3 months eddie i love you i love you i love you :)
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the-archxr · 2 years
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slow motion, double vision
part two.
marc spector x female!reader
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summary: in which two people are destined for a reunion. regardless of time, space, or a white suit.
a/n: so we got some steven/mr. knight stuff going on in this chapter cause I love them. hopefully, y’all notice how I tried to make this chapter opposite of the last one, where it’s her perspective of seeing “him” cause I thought that’d be cool? and yes there will be a third part, and I promise babes, it’s gonna be smutty. also, I’ve started to use ‘—‘ instead of Y/N, I just think it flows better x
warnings: unknown reunions (reader is charmed by mr. knight but can’t see his face so she only knows steven, not marc), angst (obvi), little bit of fluff, steven has a lil’ crush, mentions of insecurities, swearing, more bad breakups (readers boyfriend is a bitch)
word count: 2.9k
main m.list | part one, part three
join my taglist!
•••
You don’t see him until the last minute.
A flash of white barrels in front of you causing you to white knuckle the wheel and swerve harshly, nearly colliding into a lamp post. You were trying to avoid hitting whatever it was you came across, but the sudden loud thump—accompanied by the body in the middle of the road ahead of you—did nothing to calm your fears.
Your heart, which had risen to your throat, flutters as your wheels finally screeched to a stop. It was an incredibly dark desert night, so you were thankful for the small pool of light your lights provided you.
Until you saw blood.
Then you really panicked.
Desperately trying to unbuckle your seatbelt, you were forcing yourself out of your car before the door could even open. You had meant to run to him, call emergency services and inspect the damage to your car, but fear gripped your legs, limiting you from doing anything other than slowly creep over to the face-down figure.
The blood you saw on your windshield had led a trail from your car to the man, spotted flecks of red painting the road. You felt sick.
You never really did well with blood, always on the brink of passing out at just the mere sight of a paper cut.
So this was a whole other ball park for you.
Although at further glance, the blood isn’t what catches you off guard. You deduce that the man, or what you assumed was a man, was that flash of white. It wasn’t a trick of the eye or the glare of your low beams. Just him. A random man dressed head to toe in a stark white suit with…a cap? No. Yes..? You weren’t too sure what was on his head, but you could for sure see there was no blood on him at all. Which was odd.
So where or what that blood is from, you have no fucking idea.
All you knew was that if you heart wasn’t beating a mile a minute right now you’d have fallen right beside him.
Your shoes nearly touch his arm before you’re crouching down to him. Gently with your fingertips, you ever-so-lightly push his shoulder. “Sir? Sir, are you okay?”
No response. You tap him this time. Three taps before you try to put your ear down to hear his breathing.
And you don’t hear anything.
Fuck.
“Oh my god,” you cry out. Your head feels light as you brace your hands against the stone so that way you can fully sit on the ground. Your hands shake as you tap him again, and when there’s no response you squish your head into your palms. “Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t tell me I just killed someone.”
This time you practically punch him in the shoulder. “Sir, please fucking—wake up.”
You feel your eyes expand to the size of full moons as you wait and watch him to see if he’s breathing. You give it a couple seconds before you’re cursing yourself because your body is shaking so much the only movement you see is your own. So you can’t tell if he’s breathing properly. Or if he's breathing at all.
Oh, you fucking hope he’s breathing.
Adjusting yourself closer to him on your knees, you punch his shoulder again. This time as hard as you can. “Sir? Are you—“
He gasps awake and you scream. It’s a blood-curdling sound that echoes in the empty street and rings in your ears (or that could just be your ears ringing from the accident itself. You don’t really know at this point). Jumping up instinctually, you step away from him with a hand over your chest as he groans and attempts to push himself to stand up.
How the fuck is he standing up?
Your press your hand harder into your chest in an attempt to calm down. Although your erratic breathing is making it a very difficult feat. It speeds up and slows down with each breath, and you have to brace yourself against the hood of your car in case you keel over.
“Awe, man, that—“ he’s groggy as he stretches out his limbs. You watch as he does it effortlessly; mind going a mile a minute at how it seems like he just woke up from a nap, not like he was just practically run over. And then, as he twists his neck, his head turns to you, and you take notice of the glowing white eyes. You’re rendered speechless in seconds, until you feel a scream scratch at the walls of your throat. Then, as though it’s a live animation, the eyes widen and he holds his hands out to you before you can open your mouth.
“Please don’t freak out! Miss, ma’am, whatever you prefer!” He steps forward and you panic.
Of all the things you expected from the person you just hit, glowing eyes and no face was definitely not one of them.
“Don’t come near me!” You yell at him while shuffling to your driver's side door. “I have pepper spray, and I will fucking use it!”
“No, no! No, please don’t do that!”
You grab it out of the glove compartment and point it at him which only causes him to lower himself to his knees in defence. “Bloody hell! Wha—what’s that for?!”
“I told you I’ll fucking do it!”
He then throws his hands up over his head and he shakes his skull back and forth rapidly. “No, no please don’t! I’ve never been pepper-sprayed before, and I don’t really feel like ever goin’ through that, so, please. I’m not gonna’ hurt ya. Just...please put. The. Pepper spray. Down.”
“No!” You shout again and shield your body with the door. “That’s what someone who should be pepper-sprayed would say!”
He pauses. “Alright, I’ll give you that. That’s…that’s a really good point actually.” He shakes his head to shut himself up, and then inhales deeply, his whole chest moving with the action. “Look, I know I look a bit dodgy, right? But I promise, I—I’ve never hurt anyone before.” He stands up and you hold your wrist out just a little more in warning as he visibly gulps beneath your threat. “I know the white suit isn’t exactly, ya know, normal looking. But I swear, I’m not going to hurt you... Can you?” He gestures to the pepper spray in your hand which you’ve finally noticed has caused your grip to go numb.
You don’t relent. “Who’s blood is that? Is that yours? Are you bleeding?” Then you realize. “Are you pressing charges?! Oh my god, I can’t afford that.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t press charges if you don’t ask questions, yeah? We gotta deal?”
You nod, after quick consideration and slowly put the pepper spray down. He nods at you too, and when the bottle is out of sight you can see the way his shoulders release his tension.
“Alright,” he mumbles, mainly to himself. “Now, are you alright? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I—I’m fine. You—shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He shrugs and places his hands on his hips. “Well, I mean, it’s my first time being hit by a car, so…” he shakes his head and raises his hands again at your sudden frown—an action that is an effort you assume, to calm down another fit. “But I swear I’m okay. You…you know, didn’t even hurt, really. Still got all my bones…attached, so that’s a—“ he makes a clicking sound and throws a thumbs up. And, it's at that point when you feel your body loosen; can see your reflection ease up gradually out of the corner of your eye.
He watches you like a spooked deer. Slow, stunted movements as he shifts on his feet. He’s waiting for you to make the first move; for you to signal that you are calm and not going to beat the living shit out of him.
You reason that you could though. If shit came down to that you could do a good amount of harm.
Out of all the things you wished to forget about your ex-fiancée, you chose to remember all those self-defense lessons he’d randomly give you in your living room. It always seemed that whenever he moved around all the furniture, he was preparing you for the worst (whatever that was, you never really asked).
So, yes. You could take him.
Except he doesn’t look like he could take you.
He just stands there, basically twiddling his thumbs and waiting for your panic attack to subside. He sways back and forth on his heels, unaware that you’re watching him like a zoo exhibit.
He’s…odd. Definitely odd.
But…not menacing.
If anything, he’s funny. As funny as a guy with a British accent, in a garish white suit who just got hit by your car can be.
You then step away from the door slightly, enough to still shield yourself, but enough for him to see you lost the pepper spray. You squint at him.
“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
His eyes widen, and soften extremely quickly. “What? Oh, no, I’m alright. Uh, tha—thank you, though.” He doesn’t have a spot for his mouth beneath whatever that is on his head (how he breathes, especially in this heat, you don't know). But you can see the way it gently moves as he speaks so he must not be really bothered.
Not that it matters.
Although the shock value of his outfit has died off.
You debate asking him what he's even wearing; why he's wearing it in the first place, but you reason that the conversation could possibly go south. And, in retrospect, out of all the weird shit that’s happened over the past couple of years—what you’ve seen on the news alone—this costume of his is certainly not the strangest.
“Alrighty, then…” he speaks suddenly, quickly looking down the alleyway where he had been before you hit him. He then clasps his hands together and waves at you. Definitely odd. “I should get going…uh, now. Gotta get home. Or, well, you know, the hotel. Which is not really a home, but it’s cool, so it’s not all bad. Ya know, it’s actually pretty posh—“
“Do you need a ride?”
You aren’t too sure what prompted you to offer him a ride to his hotel.
But then again, you’re the one who hit him, so you aren’t too sure what prompted him to let you.
You reason that at least you could show him some kindness; help him to his place since he keeps insisting he doesn’t need a hospital because “no, really, I’m like, practically invincible”.
You aren’t too sure what that means, and quite frankly, you don’t ask. You’ve gotten used to him fairly quickly, but there are somethings that you’re still weirder out by. But you choose to ignore those things, much like how you know not to ask in situations like these. Although that doesn’t stop you from side-eyeing him like he’s crazy.
But regardless of the case, you think that maybe this would count as your good deed for the day. Your therapist had recommended multiple times that helping others helps you. So you try to do a good deed every day. Not that it happens everyday. But…this has to count for at least 20 good deeds. Even if it’s way past midnight, and technically you hit him yesterday, you’re still helping.
“Thank you, again,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet, and there’s a sort of sincerity in his words. Initially (after the panic attack), you assumed he might’ve been a drunk or someone hyped up on street drugs, but everything he said to you—almost everything—was coherent, even when he rambled (which you found he has a tendency to do). But the genuine tone in his voice tells you that he’s maybe somewhat sane.
You could almost say that he was…nice. A kind person that you had to fucking go and hit with your car.
You really hope he doesn’t press charges.
“So just the next street over?” You ask as you make a right on the corner he directed you to.
“Oh...uh, yeah, yeah.” He’s hesitant in his confirmation like he himself isn't even too sure of where he’s going. You go to say something, but then you see his eyes glance up to the rearview mirror again (an action he’s repeated several times since getting in your passenger seat), and you frown.
You turn your head slightly in an attempt to see whatever he keeps looking at. You worry that maybe he was secretly a fugitive of some kind. One that you just happened to pick up to further endanger your safety—knowing your luck it’s entirely possible—but you don’t see anything. No one; no cars tailing you.
“Is everything okay?” You ask him finally, continuously looking between your rearview mirror and him.
He doesn’t respond, just keeps his very clearly agitated gaze forward-facing.
You start to panic, hands sweating above the steering wheel as you attempt to calm down your breathing. Again. You try not to focus on his even weirder behaviour and the way it makes your heart race, but you swear if your good deed was all for nothing, you were going to lose it.
The air between the two of you grows silent again until you see him look in the rearview mirror for the fifth time in two minutes, and you snap.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
He pauses. “...Keep doing what exactly?”
"Looking behind us?" You shrug angrily, tired of glossing over questions you should’ve asked from the beginning. You were courteous enough not to ask him about the stupid suit, or his strange comments, or the blood that was everywhere but wasn’t his, but the continuous glancing to your back seats was about all you could take. “Are we being followed or something? Did you hurt someone? Why were you even out at 11:30 at night anyway?”
“You were out at 11:30," is his immediate defense. "Maybe I should ask you the same thing, yeah?” Your chuckle lacks any amusement as you bite the inside of your cheek.
“I was coming home from work.” Your frustration catches him off-guard. “I had a long day and was picking up dinner for my annivers—shit!”
You slap the wheel and groan at the realization, acutely aware of the fact that you are still driving.
“Anniversary?” He sounds a lot more shocked in his question than a stranger really should be, but at this point, you don’t even really care to notice. All you can focus on is the way you can only imagine how upset Darius probably is. “Like…like married? You’re married?”
“What?” You look at him quickly, before looking back at the road. “No, no, not yet. Our two year anniversary was yesterday but I was working late and told him I’d make it up to him tonight by bringing home dinner, but then—“
“Then you hit me.”
“Then, you ran in front of my car.”
“Stop!” You slam on the breaks, stuttering to a halt. In your frazzled state, you look around you until you see a dingy-looking hotel beside you. It takes you a moment before you grimace at the sight.
Surely this couldn’t be it.
You open your mouth to ask if he's sure he has the right place, only to see that he’s already looking at you. You expect him to finish with what he was saying earlier, but he doesn’t. He just stares. It’s different though. He’s not looking at you the way he was before.
It's a little unnerving, honestly.
Even with his lack of features, you can read his expression so very easily. And for a split second he looks…sad. Mournful. The kind of sad that hurts you without much understanding. His eyes are softly cast downwards and you wonder if something happened to him earlier that he’s just started to remember. After all, you did hit him pretty hard.
But it’s not that. At least, you don’t think so. Because he looks at you as though you remind him of someone. As though you are someone.
There is something familiar about him though. It’s a minute whisper in your mind, one you can’t quite wrap your head around because surely, you’d remember meeting him.
Regardless though, it’s there. That familiarity.
You shake the intensity off with a forced smile, and it seems as though that makes him fall back to reality because he clears his throat and looks away.
You stop for a moment until you get an idea. A way to lighten the mood because you hate awkward silences. And this is quite possibly the most awkward interaction in your entire life (other than when your parents met Marc for the first time, but you don’t count that anymore).
“I thought it was pretty posh,” you say in a British accent in reference to the hotel. He watches you for a moment like he’s unsure of you, and for a second you worry you’ve offended him somehow. “You know, it’s—it’s a joke, I’m teasing you.”
You smile nervously. And then soon, like he's finally realized what you said, he begins to laugh. It’s gentle, but echoes in the car all the same as one that bellows. “Yeah, yeah, no, that was pretty—yeah, pretty funny.” You laugh at that, louder than you’d care to admit and far louder than necessary—you chalk it up to the aftermath of a crazy fucking night. You’d never laughed like this before. “I’m sorry,” he begins, waving his hands around to capture your attention. He looks at you for a split second before inhaling deeply. “I just—you have such a lovely laugh.”
You pause, as the said laughter begins dying in your throat at the compliment. Your laugh isn’t something you get complimented on, most of the time it’s your outfit or your hair, but never your laugh. Not now, at least. You don’t even think Darius has ever said anything about your laugh before. Really, the only person you can think of who's mentioned anything like that was Marc. But that was a long time ago, and again you don’t count that anymore.
The thought makes you too sad.
That nagging feeling of three years worth of shit comes back, but your quick to push it down. Can recognize it almost instantly before it can even really hurt. You only let it hurt in front of the only person you can talk to about it. And the only person you talk to about everything is your therapist. And this random man is definitely not your therapist.
But he senses your change in behaviour. “Oh, bugger, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You shake your head vigorously, feeling the urge to touch his shoulder with reassurance. It’s not his fault you can’t let go.
“No, it’s—I’m not uncomfortable. I just, don’t get compliments like that very often, is all.”
He hums to himself then nods. “Well, you should. Because it—truly, it’s lovely.”
You feel yourself smile wide. “What’s your name?”
Then the comical eyes are at it again, widening like a toy as they focus on you. “My—my name?”
“Yeah,” you don’t expect it to come out as a whisper.
“Steven.” He’s quick to respond.
“Steven,” you repeat back to him slowly. “Well…” you unlock your car doors. “You have a good night, Steven.”
He nods, then opens the door and steps out, walking in front of your car before stopping dead in his tracks. He then walks all the way back to the passenger side, opens the door then dips his head back into your car. “You too, —.”
You smile and wait for him to walk in through the front doors (not before he waves to you one final time) as you start your car up and drive off.
And it isn’t until you’re about five minutes away from home that you realize you never told him your name.
As you expected, Darius was angry.
But he's never been angry like this.
It’s a drastic change from the kind, hidden eyes of the stranger you hit with your car nearly two hours ago, and the realization makes your stomach turn. But the feeling is especially worse when he gets angry over you ‘fucking up the car’. That’s when you finally understand something is truly wrong.
“Look, Dari, I know I promised—“
“You always promise!” He shoves a finger in your face and you nearly cry at the way he yells at you. “You always promise and you never make it up to me.”
Your mouth gapes open. You always make it up to him. “I hit someone with my car, Dari. I had to drive him back to his place because he kept saying he didn’t need the hospital. It’s the least I could do—“
“Wait a second,” he runs a hand down his face as he looks out the large window in your kitchen. “You abandoned me on the night of our anniversary to be with another guy?”
Nearly in an instant, the air leaves your lungs. “You can’t be serious,” you choke out. He doesn’t respond. Instead, he just looks at you with anger and disgust.
That's when you realize he is serious. He’s never looked more serious than in this moment and the thought alone makes you nearly throw up.
Slowly you look around your apartment in disbelief as the man who you thought loved you—who helped you move on from the love of your life—accuses you. Shaking your head, you wipe at the tears that have flowed over your lash line. And you realize, you won’t tolerate this. Not in the slightest. You can't.
Your heart can’t take that.
“I think you should go,” you mumble.
He hesitates as he squints at you. He doesn't believe you. “What do you mean? —…”
“You need to leave.”
This time it’s his turn to stare at you in disbelief. The act, however, is short-lived because within another half-hour he had packed up and left.
The irrational part of you aches for him leaving you. For losing another person you loved for unknown reasons. Reasons that would only leave you to mull over them on nights you couldn't sleep. Nights when you wanted to know it was just you. But the rational part of you realizes that at least this time, he left on your terms. You broke up on your terms. And you’d take that over anything because you don’t think you could handle waking up alone like that again.
So, you opt for sitting alone in the middle of your living room with no remorse instead.
Marc Spector/Moon Knight Taglist
@amaragray @izzy-laufeyson @slytherinsbiggestproblem
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baurbiediv · 2 years
Text
rodeo
YOURINSTAGRAM
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liked by dojacat, anguscloud, sydneysweeney, and 600,453 others
YOURINSTAGRAM and imma ride you like a rodeo. 💜
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JACKHARLOWride me like a rodeo please
JACKHARLOW you is so fine oh my 😓
JACKHARLOW im so in love with you
JACKHARLOW hey bae 😋
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↳ YOURINSTAGRAM jack you’re such a child 😭
↳ JACKHARLOW just tryna shoot my shot
JACKHARLOW
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liked by druski2funny, urbanwyatt, nemoachida, & 700,230 others
JACKHARLOW im a cowboy now! 😄 (y/n please notice me.)
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YOURINSTAGRAM hey bae ☺️
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↳ USERFAN2 jack is probably losing his shit oh my god
↳ ETHEREALYN he’s been in love w y/n forever
↳ ICEDOUTJACK i don’t blame him 😭
DRUSKI2FUNNY someone go check on my homeboy
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↳ DRUSKI2FUNNY update: man he is losing it
“so jack,” the man interviewing him says. jack had been doing a podcast today so he wasn’t really expecting anything bad to be asked. jack looks at him as he seems to already know what the man is about to him, “we’ve been wondering .. you got a crush or a celebrity crush right now? your fans have been speculating that you’ve been crushing on miss y/n y/l/n for a hot minute now after some interactions were made on instagram.” the man speaks while looking over at jack who was currently covering his face like a little middle school boy while laughing.
“damn man y’all got me .. i uh .. i do have a lil’ crush on y/n. “ he says while laughing, while rubbing his beard. his smile starts getting wider just thinking about you. “we grew up with each other, and i’ve just been y’know having a crush on her since then.” he would’ve never openly admitted to that in a million years. as he was listening to the interviewer by he got a couple texts.
from: y/n! 💗
so, lover boy, i hear you got a crush on me 🤭
from: y/n! 💗
i would’ve never thought that the infamous jack harlow would have a crush on me
from: y/n! 💗
i’m very honored, plus i’ve been crushing on you for a while too jack
he smiled while reading your messages and he also damn near fainted seeing the last message. the man looks at jack before speaking again, “yo, jack you good over there?” he asks. while looking at jack’s shocked expression. jack looks up from his phone as he leans in closer to his microphone, “y/n y/l/n just told me just liked me. i feel like i’m going to pass out” he said while dramatically clutching his chest.
the man looked at him as he laughed, “y/n’s listening to the podcast right now?” he questioned and jack just simply nodded his head. there was no doubt in jack’s mind that he was head over heels for you.
send in requests/asks i’m gonna be up all night!
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mackenzielovee · 2 years
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sixth sense: part seven
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synopsis: “I’m supposed to scowl at you the way you like. And tell you that I’m busy today, and no, you can’t just show up unannounced after one date.”
warnings: smut (a lot, but you'll see it coming) , swearing, kissing
wc: 5.2k
a/n: hi <3 sorry this took so long! the word count got away from me a lil so it's not a ton of storyline... buuut... it sets up for some good stuff in the future :) enjoy
series masterlist
     The second you wake, you register the smile on your face. You’d fallen asleep replaying last night’s events in your head; your brain immediately picking up where you left off. You relive your favorite part of it all — his hands on you. His lips on you. His body on you. How he pulled back even though you registered the desire in his eyes. Almost as if your opinion of him meant more than getting laid. The thought of that even possibly being the reason makes you smile like a maniac into your pillow. 
Your brain screams for coffee, but your mind wants just one more replay of last night. Of his features in the candle lit restaurant. Of his grin, or the way he held your hand fiercely, like he needed everyone around the two of you to know that, yes, you were, in fact, with him.
When your phone rings on the nightstand, you pounce on it. Bryn’s contact picture lights up your screen, and without a second thought, you answer. 
“Hello?”
“Hello?” she hisses into the phone, “Is there a boy next to you?”
You laugh, “No. He was a perfect gentleman. He walked me to my front door and kissed me goodnight.”
“Oh, my God,” Bryn groans, “Y/N, it’s me, sweetie. Spill.”
Your giggle gives you away. She gasps in excitement as you sit up and try to gather yourself, only to collapse right back down on your pillow. 
“Okay, fine. We made out against my front door like teenagers while he gripped my ass as if his life depended on it.”
Bryn squeals, “No way! That sweet little frat boy sounds sexy when he’s turned on.”
“You have no idea,” you sigh contently, “It was an amazing night.”
You recap the night for her, filling your need to replay every moment in your head. By the time you’re done, part of you thinks Bryn might love him, too. 
“Y/N, I’m so happy for you,” she says, “You deserve this.”
“Thank you.”
You can feel your heart pounding at her approval of Rafe, wanting it more than anything. A part of you feels as if you need permission; for someone to tell you that how you’re feeling is okay. Now that Bryn has given it to you, everything feels as if it’s falling into place. 
“By the way,” you grin, “Rafe told me that his friend, Topper, seems to have a crush on you.”
She snorts, “Blue Hawaiian guy?”
“Yeah,” you stifle out a laugh. 
“Not a chance.”
You laugh again, “Imagine if the two of us ended up with a couple of frat boys.”
Bryn scoffs, as if the thought is completely unbelievable to her, “Yeah fucking right.”
Your phone beeps, evidence of another call coming through. You grin when you see Rafe’s name at the top of your screen and sit up, excitement evident in your new tone. 
“It’s him,” you tell her, “I gotta go.”
“Aw, you two are so cute. Bye, hun.”
You smile and hang up, then pick up Rafe’s call. With a deep breath, you bring the phone up to your ear and force yourself to sit back, trying to relax. 
“Hello?”
You can practically see his grin, “Hi.”
“Hi,” you smile, “How are you?”
“I’m good now,” he confesses, “I wanted to call earlier, but Top told me that’s not cool.”
“And you listened to him?”  
He laughs, “No. He told me I had to wait three days. I said hell no.”
The giggle that escapes your lips reminds you of the way you used to smile at boys in the hallway at school when you were fourteen. You never thought that this feeling would be possible for you again. 
“I’m glad you didn’t listen to him,” you say. 
“Me too,” he replies, “So, I think I’m gonna break another post-first date rule, if that’s okay.”
“What would that be?”
He laughs lightly, and the sound feels like music to your ears. You fidget with your blanket; pulling it on and then taking it off while you squirm and wait for his answer. 
“I’d like to see you today.”
“Oh, really?” you tease, biting down on your pointer finger to try and prevent another unwanted laugh to escape. 
“Really,” he confirms, and you can tell he’s grinning, “Are you home?”
“Yeah,” you answer. 
“Alone?”
You pause and swallow, then repeat, “Yeah.”
“Fantastic,” he says, “Mind opening the door?”
Your eyes go wide as you process his words, and no sooner than the second you sit up straight do you hear a knock on your door. Rafe disconnects the call before you can say another word, leaving you in a panic. 
Your kitchen is a mess — save the tulips that sit proudly in the middle of your counter — and your room looks even worse. You can’t even imagine what you look like, having been blushing even in your sleep. Your hair sits in a low bun and you realize you’re in Rafe’s shirt again, but the second knock on your front door draws you out of all that. 
You hurry out of bed and to the front door, realizing too late that his shirt is so long, it covers your shorts. Shrugging, you pull open the door and reveal Rafe Cameron in all his Sunday morning glory. 
He grins when he sees you, watching your eyes move from the takeout food in his hand to his clothing choice. A gray UNC tee shirt hugs his torso while black sweatpants cover his lower half. You draw back half a step and swallow at the sight, letting out a shaky breath you’d been holding in. 
“Hi,” he breaks the silence, stifling out a laugh at the way you’re shamelessly raking over his body. 
“Hi,” you reply, your voice weak, “Come in.”
He smiles proudly and steps right into the doorway, stopping about five inches from where you currently stand. Every thought leaves your brain once he gets this close, and you struggle to remember if you’ve always been so lightheaded around him. 
“I denied that request about twelve hours ago,” he says lowly, “I won’t do that again.”
You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that you swear you taste blood, but you don’t care. 
“Smart,” you reply, unsuccessfully hiding your grin under your lip. 
He laughs, “You’re gonna bruise that lip. Give it here.”
Your heart flutters at his command as he leans down, tucking one hand underneath your chin and pulling you up. Before you can blink, his mouth holds your own. He’s soft and sweet; displaying a kiss that reminds you so much of his personality. When he pulls back, tucking his hand along your jawline, you let out a small, barely audible whimper. His grin tells you he heard it and loved it. 
“Hungry?” he asks you quietly. 
“Starved,” you reply.
He smiles and holds up the bag of food, letting his other hand fall to your waist to guide you backward so he can close the door behind him. 
You take the bag from his grip and lead him into your kitchen, where you watch him make himself comfortable. He peaks into all of your cabinets until he finds plates, then starts dividing up all of the greasy goodness he brought. You pour drinks while simultaneously drooling over the pancakes and hashbrowns he stands over — the view of him only adding to it. 
“How’d you sleep?” he asks. 
You lick your lips, watching his tattooed arm extend a plate out to you. You swallow, trying to wet your dried up throat while racking your brain to come up with an answer to his simple question. 
“Good,” you finally say, your voice weak.
He laughs, “Good.”
“Sorry,” you blurt, “It’s just, like, you— here. I wasn’t prepared.”
“Prepared?” he questions, setting his plate down on the counter. 
You aren’t used to the way he fully engages with you, forgetting about whatever he’s doing in that moment and giving you his undivided attention. You copy his motion and set your own plate down, then shrug. 
“Well, yeah,” you mumble, “I look—”
“Beautiful,” he interrupts, taking a step toward you, then another. 
He doesn’t miss the way you back up, and a smirk grows across his lips at the challenge. 
“But, my apartment looks—”
He shakes his head and takes another step, “I’m not looking at the apartment, Y/N.”
Your throat constricts, and with another step back, you jump when you hit the countertop. He can’t help but grin as you realize you’re done for; standing still while he cages you in right where you stand. 
“I’m all flustered now,” you whine, “And I’m not supposed to be.”
“No?” he teases, his lips mere inches from yours, “What are you supposed to be, baby?”
“I’m—” you groan, throwing your head back and exposing your neck, “I’m supposed to scowl at you the way you like. And tell you that I’m busy today, and no, you can’t just show up unannounced after one date.”
When his lips meet your throat, you whimper. You feel him smirk against your skin, but you don’t call him on it because your brain is too busy telling your body to arch into him, to get as close as possible. 
“So, tell me,” he whispers against your skin, “Tell me you’re busy today. Tell me I have to go. Tell me to stop.”
“I—” you draw in a sharp breath when he sucks on your skin, “I can’t.”
His mouth closes, pressing feathery kisses to the base of your throat. 
“Why not?”
“Because,” you mumble, “I want you to stay.”
You feel him grin, “Then I’ll stay.”
You barely have time to nod in understanding before he captures your mouth with his. His hands shamelessly roam, settling on your hips after a minute and lifting you up to sit on the counter. He makes a space for himself in between your legs, expertly never breaking the kiss. You tug him closer by his shirt, your hands meeting his back and scratching up and down with your nails. He groans at that, stepping even closer to you as if to urge you to continue. 
His hands slip under your shirt, the familiar fabric reminding him that it’s his. When he’s only met with more skin the further his hand travels, he comes to the realization that you’re not wearing anything underneath. Another, louder, longer groan comes pouring out of him as his hands travel across your bare skin. 
“Y/N,” he pants, “You have nothing on under here.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “Yeah, I know. This is how I slept.”
“You—” he stops and swallows, his throat constricting, “Oh.”
Seeing him lose his cool, his confidence, makes your jaw tick. You scoot closer to the edge of the counter, pushing your chest out, and lock your hands behind his neck. You watch his breathing grow uneven as he stares at your breasts through your shirt, practically gaping at you. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently. 
His eyes snap up and meet yours, “You think something’s wrong?”
“Well—”
“Y/N,” he groans, “Your bare chest pressed against my shirt is bound to throw me off balance. I just needed a minute.”
“Is the minute up now?”
He breaks into a grin, “Yeah.”
“Good. Kiss me.”
He laughs and so do you before he draws you into a slow kiss. His hands travel up your thighs, around your back, all the way up to your hair. You get lost in the kiss the way you always do; wanting him closer and closer still.
After a few more minutes — or an hour, you can’t tell — Rafe picks you up by the back of your thighs and tucks your legs around him, carrying you to the couch without once removing his mouth from your own. You make yourself comfortable in his lap, straddling him as you run your fingers through his hair. His tongue skims your bottom lip; the motion sending you right back to that night in Rafe’s bedroom. 
“Rafe—” you pull back, biting down on your bottom lip as you hesitate to ask what’s on your mind. 
With a small smile across his puffy lips, he presses the base of his thumb to your lip and pulls it out from in between your teeth. 
“Yes?”
“I have to ask you something,” you practically whisper. 
He nods and gives you a smile, then leans up to encourage you with a quick kiss. 
“Go ahead.”
“That night in your room—” you pause and watch him nod, then continue, “If I didn’t have those… marks, would you have fucked me?”
You watch as he winces at your phrasing, but he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he takes a deep breath and places both of his hands on your thighs, then just barely nods. 
“Yeah, probably,” he says quietly, “And I would’ve been mad at myself the next day. Not because it’s you, but you know…”
He trails off just as you grow desperate for the words, wanting to know what it is that would’ve upset him about it. You squirm on his lap, feigning innocence when you feel yourself brush against a bulge in his sweats. 
“Tell me,” you say, cupping his cheek.
He looks up at you, “I feel like we have a real connection now. That night would’ve been great, don’t get me wrong, but now, I just think that you look at me differently. You’ve let me all the way in. So, whenever that part happens — no rush, by the way — I think I’ll feel like you trust me more than you did that night. It will mean more to you, and by default, me, too.”
He watches you digest his words, hesitating on how to respond because you don’t know how to. How do you tell him that he’s right? That you know you’d been lonely, and you’re glad he is the man he is, because most guys you know wouldn’t have even blinked at those marks. 
He smiles when you tuck your bottom lip into your mouth again, shaking his head slightly. You drop it when you attempt to speak, brushing his hair behind his ear with your fingers. 
“So, if I asked, you’d fuck me right here, right now?”
You jump off the ledge, wanting nothing more than that intimate moment with him. You’d never had the kind of sex Rafe is talking about — the one that brings the two of you closer, expresses feelings, creates a bond. You’d only done the transactional shit; whatever got Campbell off in that moment was what you would do. Wanting it to be over as quickly as possible, you’d been up for anything. What he’s describing sounds different. It sounds special. 
“No,” he whispers, watching your face fall before continuing, “I’d have to take you into that bedroom, because the first time I’m inside you, it’s not going to be on a couch.” 
Your left hand runs down his chest, feeling his warm skin burn through his shirt. You roll your hips one more time, watching his eyes widen slightly as he reaches down and steadies you in his lap. 
“Will you?” you whisper, “Take me in there?”
He swallows, “You sure, baby?”
“I’m sure,” you nod, “I trust you.”
He physically draws back at those words, almost as if he’d been waiting, needing, to hear them from you. As he takes in the vulnerable expression on your face, you watch as it clicks in his mind how big of a deal it is for you to say that. To put your heart in someone else’s hands and beg them to be gentle with it is a true testament to who we all are; how we beg to be loved but are so unwilling to let the walls down. Rafe’s expression tells you that he will cradle it forever, if you let him. 
When you stand from his lap and reach for his hand, pulling him up with you and watching as his eyes soften, you know you’ve made the right choice; given your heart to the right person. He cups your cheeks in both of his hands and kisses you sweetly, as if thanking you and promising you all at once. 
Before you know it, your back is meeting your mattress. Rafe’s shirt is off. His hands travel all along your skin, sliding your shirt further and further up until he frees you of it, placing his mouth over both of your breasts and taking his time doing so. The noises that slip out of the back of his throat force an arch in your back, only begging him for more. You whimper when he kisses those same spots on your neck, then trails back up to your lips. He pulls away from your kiss just to look at you, smiling softly when he sees your lusty eyes and puffy lips. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, “Still insanely out of my league.”
You laugh, “Stop.”
“No,” he replies, stealing a kiss, then settles himself above you, “I have a feeling you didn’t hear that a lot before.”
“So you’re trying to make up for it?”
He kisses you again, “Mhm. You know what else?”
“What?”
His head makes its way to the crook of your neck while his right hand travels down and slips into your panties, making you gasp. He hums against your skin as he settles two fingers inside of you, hsi thumb working in circles to pleasure you. 
“I’m going to take care of you,” he mumbles, “Give it to you nice and slow so you can feel me everywhere while you come apart around me. And then you’re going to do it again, and again—”
“Rafe,” you pant when he speeds up his fingers, grinning to himself. 
“Shh,” he kisses your cheek, then moves back to your mouth, watching your face as your eyes close in pleasure, “You need to come at least once so you can let me in, baby.”
He extracts his fingers after a moment, and just before you can object, he replaces them with his tongue. You’re not even sure when your leggings or panties came off, but with the way he’s working you, you don’t care. 
You pull on his hair as begs leave your mouth, and when he reaches his arm up to offer you his hand, it clicks in your brain what he’s really doing. You lead his palm down to your breast and let it rest there while you trace his tattoos with your index finger, using it to center yourself. He’d figured out how much you loved it last night, and uses it as a lifeline now. One you couldn’t be more thankful for. Your traces quickly turn to scratching up his arm as you come apart. 
He crawls back up your body, leaving kisses on your skin as he moves. You grin blissfully once you meet his eyes again, your fingers still absently tracing around his arm. 
“How you feelin’?” he asks with a smirk. 
“How did you know?” you ask, nodding down to his arm. 
He smiles, “I love when you do that. And I noticed how it comforted you last night. I took a guess.”
You tug him down to you by his chin and kiss him, losing yourself in him for a moment. When he pulls back, he kisses the tip of your nose. 
“I need a condom, baby,” he says, his voice husky and deep. 
“Top drawer of my nightstand,” you reply. 
He nods and hops up to get one, and before you know it, he’s back on top of you. His warm skin heats your own, and by the time he’s ready to enter you, you’re already clawing at his back. 
“Settle,” he urges you, kissing you gently, “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m going to take my time with you. Relax for me, yeah?”
You nod, “Okay, Rafe.”
He grins and slips an inch of himself in, “Good girl. Just relax and let me in. I’ll take care of the rest.”
You barely have time to nod before it becomes a mess of panting and begging and forehead kisses. He does exactly what he told you he was going to do: he takes his time. Each thrust is slow and intentional, each grunt he lets out tells you exactly how he’s feeling without him having to say a word. It’s as if you feel a deeper sense of trust, loyalty, and care with every single movement; like he’s trying to show you just how much he wants you in every way. You come for a second time while you scratch red marks into his back, earning a long and low groan from Rafe as he continues pumping in and out. 
“Shit,” he mutters, his voice deep, “So fucking tight around me, baby.”
You just nod, the bliss taking over every inch of your body as he continues. It feels like so much and not enough at once; feeling every part of him on you and in you, yet demanding him closer at the same time. He seems to sense this, because he brings his lips down to yours and kisses you as he bends your leg, angling himself deeper. You moan against his mouth as your knee presses into his chest, begging and pleading with him not to stop. 
By your third orgasm, he’s reduced you to nothing. You’re begging and pleading — for what you’re not sure — and when he comes, you swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound. When his thrusts finally slow, he brings his mouth down to yours and smiles when you smile, your sweat forcing your hair to stick to your forehead. 
“You look so fucking beautiful right now, you don’t even know,” he whispers against your lips. 
“I—” you start, then stop and shake your head, “You—”
He lets out a laugh, “Just a minute. Take a minute and breathe, okay?”
You nod, “Okay.”
He remains on top of you for another minute, his lips kissing any inch of skin he can find. You can feel your flushed cheeks and your sweaty forehead, but you don’t care. Pleasure flows through every inch of your body, melting away all your stress, anxiety, and everything in between. It’s just him, sitting inside of you, kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. 
“I’m gonna pull out, okay?” he says quietly, “Super slow. Tell me that’s okay, won’t you, baby?”
You look him in the eye, wishing silently he’d stay in you longer but knowing it’s not exactly practical. 
“It’s okay,” you murmur. 
He goes as slow as you expect him to, crossing into your bathroom to toss the condom. You just stare at the ceiling with a smile on your face, already missing his touch and his kiss and wanting more of it all. 
When he returns, it’s with a warm washcloth and a smile, one that would send you to your knees if your legs weren’t currently jell-o. 
“I’ve got you,” he says quietly. 
He kisses a trail up your right leg as he makes himself comfortable, then silently cleans you up with a few strokes of his hand. 
“Thank you,” you say when he’s through, “You’re very sweet.”
He smiles, “Thank you for letting me make love to you.”
You freeze there, your eyes meeting his and watching as his lips tip up in a shy smile. You sit up on your elbows, moving carefully as if you’ll scare him off otherwise. You let your lips part, then close them and swallow down whatever words you were about to let out. Words that probably were because of the lust still subsiding. Words that you’d never meant when you said them to a man. Words that can’t possibly be true after one date. 
His shoulders fall slightly when you don’t speak for a minute, but he keeps that smile on his face. A part of you wants to reach for your comforter, the other part wants to pull him on top of you and say the words until your lips dry out from kissing him too much. 
“You should use the bathroom,” he says, looking down in his lap, “I don’t want you to get a UTI or anything.”
“Okay,” you squeak. 
His eyes remain on you as you stand, picking up the shirt he came over in and carrying it into the bathroom with you. You toss it over your head while you pee, replaying that last comment in your head over and over. 
It isn’t until you stand and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror that it all clicks for you. Your hair is messy, your pupils are dilated, your cheeks flushed. A smile breaks out before you can help it, and all at once, the fear melts away once more. 
You hurry out of your bathroom, eager to get to him, to tell him, to make sure he knows you’re just as much in this as he is. He’s standing in the middle of the room with his sweatpants back on, but his boxers lay tangled with your panties on the floor. You blush slightly at the sight, then look back up to him. 
“Look,” he starts, “About what I said—”
“No, Rafe, it’s okay. You know why? It’s because—”
The banging on your front door startles you enough to jump back, clutching your sides as you go. Rafe glances out toward the sound, which only grows louder with each passing second. It stops, then starts again, and he scoffs in disbelief. 
“Y/N,” he almost growls, “Who the fuck is banging on your door like that?”
“I don’t know, I—”
“I’ll put a stop to it,” he mutters, hurrying toward the door with no hesitation whatsoever. 
You stand there for a moment, practically in disbelief that the moment had been ruined by some asshole at the door. Maybe it’s the feeling you have of him still inside of you, maybe it’s the way you’d been so wrapped up in sharing your feelings with him, but you don’t realize the one person you know who would do something like this until Rafe reaches the door. 
“Oh, God, Rafe, wait—”
You rush out of your bedroom and to the front door just as Rafe pulls it open, revealing a drunk looking Campbell in a business suit. Nausea presents itself in your stomach at the sight of him — and the smell. 
You watch Campbell’s eyes narrow as he takes in a shirtless Rafe behind your door, and then you, in Rafe’s tee shirt and nothing covering your legs. Not even panties. 
When he speaks, he looks at you. It’s as if all of the energy, love, and light Rafe brought in when he entered has been dimmed. 
“Thought I told you to be a good girl for me,” he slurs, waving his finger up and down at you, “Looks to me like all you’ve been is a whore.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Rafe steps forward, fists clenching around the door handle and at his side. 
“Rafe—” you start, but Campbell’s drunken laugh fills the air. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Campbell chuckles, still looking at you, “Tell your little puppy to heel. I thought you’d have had him trained by now.”
“Fuck off,” you spit before you can help yourself, “I want you to leave. Now.”
You don’t realize you’ve stepped forward until Rafe’s body heat warms your arms, and when he turns to look at you, he protectively wraps his arm around you to keep you behind him. 
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that—” Campbell starts, attempting to come in but meeting Rafe’s large hand on his chest. 
“You’re drunk, man,” Rafe says patiently, but his tone reflects how he feels, “Get out of here before you do something you’ll regret.”
“And you’re going to stop me?” Campbell asks, looking between the two of you, “You’re really gonna stand in between me and my girl just because she used you as a meaningless fuck? You could never give her what she wants.”
You try to step forward, to be shoulder to shoulder with Rafe, but his other arm keeps you back. He’s tense, and so are you, but when you realize the arm that’s around you, your index finger meets the ink and gently traces one line up and down. You feel him physically relax, and even watch as he breaks out into a smirk at the motion. 
“Aw, man,” Rafe chuckles, “I’m gonna take the high road here. Walk away. If I ever see you around this building again, I won’t be so nice.”
“Shakin’ in my boots, brother,” Campbell replies, “Y/N, come out of there. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go to a hotel. I’ll fuck the memory of this little frat boy right out of you.”
You swallow, “Leave now, Campbell, or I’ll call the police.”
Your heart rate speeds up at that, but you do your best not to show it. Instead, you let your finger trace over even more of Rafe’s arm, putting all of your energy there. 
“The police?” he questions, drawing back slightly, “I’m not gonna hurt you, now. Him, though—”
“Now,” you repeat, “Leave. Don’t come back.”
“Shit,” Campbell mutters under his breath, stumbling across the hall and into the wall. His head slams into the drywall and you wince, but don’t make any move to help. 
“I’ll call you an Uber,” Rafe says quietly to him. Your heart swells at that. 
“Fuck you,” Campbell grunts, “I’ll call my own fuckin’ Uber.”
“Fine,” Rafe shrugs, “Don’t show your face around here again.”
Campbell just groans, then turns and starts stumbling down the hallway. Rafe watches until he’s out of sight, then steps back into your apartment. You remain silent as he shuts the door and locks it with his left hand, his right one still wrapped up in you.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him, his back still to you, “I’m so sorry.”
He turns around and shakes his head, but you’re on your tiptoes and pressing kisses to his lips before he can say a word. The kisses are short, just you pressing against his lips over and over again. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat in between kisses. 
“Hey,” he says softly, his hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back, “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
You shake your head, “The things he said, Rafe—”
“Don’t matter,” he finishes for you, “All that matters is what you think of me. Okay?”
Slowly, you nod, sinking back down onto your heels. His right hand curves around your waist, drawing you closer as a smirk grows on his lips. 
“Okay,” you whisper. 
He yanks you into his chest then, wrapping both arms tightly around you and pressing his mouth to your forehead. The two of you remain there for a few minutes, just swaying in each other and calming down. Eventually, you angle your head up to look at him once more, and he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. When he pulls back, he gives you that smile. 
“Hungry?” 
“Starved,” you reply, watching him laugh at the repetition of earlier. 
His fingers loop through yours and he takes you into the kitchen, where he re-heats the food and puts together a plate for both of you. As you watch him, you confirm what you’d been so ready to tell him before. 
You are completely, totally, one hundred percent in love with Rafe Cameron.
Tags:
@witchwyfe @lurkymurker @ghostselena @goldenjo @storytellingwitht @scenesofobx @itsalexwin @onmykneesforrafe @valeriiecameron @lovedetlost @mardema @girlsneedloovee @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @malums-trash-can @emotionalbruv @onenightnorth @rafecameronswhore @wanniiieeee @sarahwasfound @lilgoddesshines @abrunettefangirlnerd @absolute-fcking-chaos @jordynsharum @premixed-margarita @anonymousobxfan @samcaniglia @thisisthewayrose @iammirrorball @r0und3bitch @thesimpletype @notdisneychannel @gillybear17 @solllaris @i-is-for-inspiring @sksliz @luversgirl @maybankxw @mattyskies @booktalks @ryswritingrecord @barbietiingz @totallynotkaibiased @mannstarkey
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adoringhaikyuu · 3 years
Text
they find out you hooked up with their friend/teammate before you started dating | 3
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characters: akaashi + iwaizumi + osamu + suna + (gn!reader)
requests: can you do a part 2 to the 'he finds out you hooked up with his best friend' with iwaizumi, suna and bokuto ? thank you and i LOVE your page 💞• by anonymous + s skfhsk s please do a they find out you hooked up with their friend/teammate before you started dating for suna osamu (even better if yn hooked up with his twin omfg) and akaashi 🥺 i love your writing please i will pass away • by anonymous
warnings: the second one is a lil angsty and the last two have suggestive tings 
notes: y’all are too sweet, everyone is 18+ in this! (i’d already gotten another request for bokuto by the time i got the first request so he’s in pt two) + they’re all different lengths btw sorry abt that <3
part one | part two | part three
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akaashi:
so you and bokuto hooked up like way before you and akaashi started dating
it was in high school but it wasn’t like there were any feelings involved
...okay maybe he ended up getting a lil crush on you but he got over it
your friends had dared you to hook up with someone to loosen up and you were too nervous to ask your real crush, akaashi (plus you’re not even sure if he was at that party)
and bokuto was kinda chatting u up so u thought why not
(this was before akaashi let him know that he liked you)
it wasn’t until one day that the three of you were hanging out that akaashi found out about it
bokuto had been talking to you and his best friend about this girl he met at a café, he wanted to ask her out but he wasn’t sure how to go about it, so he was asking you two for advice. 
“i’m thinking i take her to watch the stars and then i can swoop in and do my special move. that’ll have her swooning for sure, right?” he smiled to himself and looked at you both as if for reassurance that he was going about this the right way.
akaashi was about to respond when you spoke up first. 
“that thing you do with your tongue?” bokuto nodded, his brows raised up and down, showcasing his confidence. you shook your head immediately, “that’s a little too bold to do right away don’t you think?”
he deflated a bit,  “well... i’m not––” he backpedaled, looking to the side to cover his tracks, “not gonna do it right away...after... a couple dates maybe?” 
before you could say anything else, akaashi spoke up, placing a hand on your thigh to get your attention. you turned to see him looking at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, a small frown on his face. 
“how do you know about his special move?” 
“oh, um...” you blinked a few times and then looked back to bokuto. “we kind of hooked up?” you turned back to your boyfriend and you could see the thoughts processing in his mind. “it was only once though–”
“and what a time it was!–” 
you turned back to look at the loud boy incredulously and he shrugged. “what? i’m just saying you know what you’re doing–”
you rolled your eyes, “you’re not helping here.” you turned to face akaashi fully, taking his hand in yours. you noticed he was a little tense, clearly uncomfortable. “if it makes you feel any better, it’s not like i liked him or anything...to be honest i would’ve hooked up with you that day if i was brave enough to ask you...” 
he looked up at you, eyes wide and quickly glanced down, his cheeks turning pink. 
bokuto spoke up, “wait a minute, so i was second choice?” he crossed his arms and sunk down in his seat, mumbling to himself like a kid. 
you were about to make a comment when you felt akaashi raise your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. he gave you a soft smile, “i would’ve liked that...i was too scared to ask you out for a while, bokuto-san is actually the one who convinced me to in the end, so i guess he’s off the hook for using his move on you...” 
bokuto perked up again, “oh great!–”
he pulled you closer to his side, his face serious. “but don’t ask y/n for any more kissing advice or i’m kicking you out.” 
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iwaizumi:
when iwa found out that you and oikawa hooked up before you started dating, admittedly he felt a little jealous
but it was mostly just his insecurities, he was used to everyone fawning over his best friend 
and the thought that you were potentially one of those people wasn’t surprising but it kinda upset him
what if you wanted to leave him for oikawa?
you and oikawa were actually the ones who told him that you’d hooked up, while the three of you were hanging out at your place, not thinking much of it since it was a one and done kind of thing for both of you
but you’d noticed the way he’d gotten a bit quieter afterwards, the way he seemed a bit more tense
you waited until oikawa went home to say something
he came back to sit on the couch after locking the door behind his friend and you turned to him. “baby?”
he grunted, eyes focused on his lap. 
“look at me please?” your voice was soft and he couldn’t help but listen, looking up into your eyes sheepishly. you put a hand on his arm, “what’s wrong? i can tell something’s bothering you.”
he looked away and shook his head once, “it’s nothing i just...”
you squeezed his arm reassuringly and he sighed. “just started thinking about you and... shittykawa.”
you moved to sit in his lap and his arms immediately came around to hold you. you placed a hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes fondly and sternly to get the message across. “haji listen to me, i love you and only you. i would never leave you, okay?” 
he nodded but you could tell he was still in his thoughts, so you went on. “i love how thoughtful you are, how sweet you are to me and to your family.” you kissed a spot on his face between every sentence. “i love your voice in the morning when you wake up and the way you tell me you love me every day. i love the way you hold me,” you trailed your hands down to his arms. “and i love your strong arms––” you let your fingers trace his veins and he shifted under you, flustered from your touch and your words. “i love everything about you, haji. i hope you know that...”
he brought his hands up to your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss, “i know, doll. thank you for that. i love you too, so much. it drives me insane how much i’m in love with you.” his cheeks were dusted pink as he spoke to you and it couldn’t have been more endearing that he was still nervous around you, despite having been together for a good while now. 
“any time.” you smiled, pulling away after giving him another sweet kiss. “plus, you’re a way better kisser than him.” 
he threw his head back and laughed, his hands squeezing your sides as he looked back into your eyes, before kissing you. “oh i’m so telling him that.” 
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osamu:
you and atsumu had hooked up once in high school 
...technically
see you were both kinda wasted at a party when it ‘happened’ 
the most you did was kiss and feel each other up, but after you accidentally moaned osamu’s name–––
things ended pretty quickly after that
you don’t know if it’s because you were drunk and mistook atsumu for his brother or if you were secretly wishing it was him, or both
all you know is the two of you agreed to never speak of that ever again
it was embarrassing enough for the both of you
but unfortunately it was one of those memories that came back to haunt you every now and then...even years later, now that you were dating osamu, and living with him
you visibly winced as you thought back to the awkward silence and the way the two of you paused when you said osamu’s name. you shouldn’t have been thinking about this, especially not now, when osamu was literally cooking dinner for you in your home. 
you spaced out for a bit and hadn’t noticed your boyfriend calling for your attention until you saw his hand wave in front of your face. you blinked quickly and looked up at him, “hi! yes i’m here–”
he raised a brow and laughed, amused, coming around the kitchen island to wrap his arms around you and put his head over your shoulder. you sunk into his embrace and he hummed, “what were you thinking about? i asked you what side dish you wanted and you were completely spaced out.” 
you shook your head, “oh um, nothing. i think what we had yesterday would be fine.” 
you tried to move on but he wasn’t having that. he narrowed his eyes as he turned his head to look at you. “well if it’s nothing then you won’t mind telling me, hm?”
his tone was calm but you could tell that he was suspicious and starting to get a little worried. you took a deep breath and buried your face in your hands––it’s not that you wanted to hide it from him, you were just embarrassed is all. 
your shoulders sunk down and you meekly admitted to what you were thinking about, your voice muffled by your palms, the only word osamu able to decipher being his brother’s name. 
he took a sharp intake of breath and stood up, rolling his eyes. “’tsumu? what did that idiot do now––”
you shook your head and took your hands away from your face. “no...it’s not something he did...it was me.” 
osamu crossed his arms and looked down at you, more curious now. “what happened?” 
“it’s not...it wasn’t recent––” he only looked at you blankly, silently telling you to continue. 
you sighed, “well we...hooked up in high school.” you could see his jaw clench. “it was only once, though. and he didn’t––we only kissed and we were fully clothed. honestly it only lasted a few minutes.” 
that seemed to put him at ease a bit more. “well that’s––fine...”
you looked down, “that’s not the bad part.” 
osamu’s hand came under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, the look in his eyes warm. “come on, you can tell me.” 
you bit your lip, knowing he’d never let you live this down. “it was at suna’s party our third year and we were pretty wasted...we went to a random room and we were kissing and i...” you trailed off, your pride not wanting you to finish your sentence. 
you took a deep breath. “i moaned your name.” 
he blinked at you, once, then twice before he poked his tongue to the side of his mouth, clearly fighting off a laugh. “are you serious?”
you rolled your eyes, “like i would joke about that.” 
“i don’t know if that’s really funny or really sad, i feel like it’s both-”
“hey!-”
he laughed, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he pulled you in for a hug and you reluctantly held him back. “oh man that must’ve been such a blow to his ego,” he cackled.
you frowned, “stop samu, i felt really bad, i still do–”
he rolled his eyes, “he’s fine.” he looked down at you with a smirk, “so you’ve had a crush on me since we were juniors, huh?”
you raised a brow, “do i have to moan his name now to fix your ego?” 
he narrowed his eyes, “not unless you wanna be punished, no.”
that honestly didn’t sound too bad. 
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suna:
you and osamu hooked up on and off for a few months 
you were kinda friends with benefits tbh but no one knew about it 
well atsumu found out but that was an accident he just came home earlier than expected one day and caught you two
but other than him, and your best friend, no one knew
not even suna
i mean why would you tell him, it’s been years and it didn’t matter
you’d pushed it to the back of your mind and hadn’t expected it to come up ever again
however––
one day suna went to hang out with his old teammates and atsumu for some reason decided to blurt out that you and his brother used to hook up, not thinking much of it––honestly it’s a shocker he kept it a secret for as long as he did
when suna came home, you were lying down in bed, scrolling on your phone and you perked up when you heard him get in, looking back to your screen. 
“hi baby, how was it?” 
he didn’t answer and you were about to sit up when you felt to hands pull you down by your legs. you looked up, eyes wide to see your boyfriend standing above you, a spark hiding behind his seemingly bored eyes. 
you tilted your head questioningly and he took your phone from your hands, throwing it aside. “atsumu told me something real interesting today.” 
you raised a brow, thinking it was something ridiculous. “oh yeah?” 
he nodded, his hands reaching for the hem of your sweatpants, making your breath hitch. “mhm. and you know, it’s not that i care.” he pulled them down after making sure you were okay with it. “but it did bother me, i won’t lie.” 
he reached for your underwear as well, licking his lips when they were out of the way. “he told me that you and osamu used to be fuck buddies.” you looked up at him, speechless for a few seconds but he kept going. “m’not mad, that would be stupid.” he lied down between your legs and looked up at you, a glint in his eyes. “but i feel like reminding you you’re mine, so i’m gonna play with you for a while, okay?” 
how could you say no to that––
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mywritingonlyfans · 3 years
Text
Fluffly fic with Thomas (A bit smut at the end)
this short fic is about: you having a crush on Thomas and he matches. 
warnings: it’s a bit smut. fingering + female oral. fem!reader x thomas raggi
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 Thomas kept his jaw set as he talked to his friends, in a way that you find quiet charming. He was the serious type, but in the best of ways. Anyone who didn't know him would think he was bored or indifferent to the conversation going on around him, something that in a short time you became aware that it was just him being himself.
 You love how his body seemed tense and at the same time so out of place.  His hair was cascading down his shoulders as his hands shook the beer bottle mysteriously. God certainly had his favourites, Thomas was a living proof of that.
“He fancies you too, you should have noticed that by now,” Victoria whispered, getting your attention back to her.
You were in the kitchen of his house with her.
Your back was against the wall, allowing you a perfect view of Thomas on the other room. He had decided to throw a party and as you were new to the group it was obvious that you’d be there with them.
“I don’t know,” you frowned, “I don’t think he does.”
 Thomas could have anyone he wanted, anyone in the room, no matter what room he was in.
 He indeed used to be touchy when it comes to you. You remember moments when he'd walk close to you, bumping his shoulder with yours, just for the hell of it or when he’d place his arm around your waist to introduce you to some of his friends, making you part of his chitchat. Over time, you realized this was his way of being friendly. Thomas was like that with everyone, you were no exception.
“Well, that’s not what Dami told me. He said he asked several times if you‘d come tonight and all of that,”
“Yeah?” Your voice was low, secretly afraid she might be poking fun at you. It wasn’t her type to do that, but when it comes to Thomas your head doesn’t work coherently.
 Your attention wandered from her, back to Thomas across the room. Just for you to notice that his eyes were already on you this time, he smirked, and then waved at you. 
Needless to say you became a self-consciousness clutter under his eyes.
You were about to answer him, even if it was with a small nod, but Victoria was quicker and while one of her shoulders nudged you; she signaled asking him to join you.
“That’s so cute, you’re literally weak at the knees,” Victoria took a sip of her beer, holding a sly smile on her face. “You two will be a lovely couple.” She concluded as nervousness took over your soul. 
You pressed your hands on your skirt, in a failed attempt to get rid of the sweating.
 Victoria was right, you were a bit shaken and you knew that your abrupt change in breathing next to your already hot cheeks could give you away. You had no idea why you were like that, things would be the same as before; he doesn't know how you feel about him.
You sighed heavily, giving Victoria a menacing look as you sat on the metal space of the sink. In your head, leaving Thomas's field of vision as he came to you would give you enough time to proceed what had just been said.
"Ayup girl!" He said happily, holding a toothy smile for you. "How're my favorite girls doin' tonight?" His arm went over to your shoulder and you hugged his waist sideways, in an almost involuntary act. You heard Victoria laugh, and then it hits you how strange it was that it became something normal in such a short time. Maybe it was meant to be, you wondered. 
"Ok, excuse me kids," Victoria blinked at you. "I'll be retiring, but don't have so much fun without me."
"Is that even possible?" Thomas asked, playing along with Vic's drunk words.
She was no longer in the kitchen and his hands were still on you, besides now he had turned so he was facing you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, getting so close that you couldn't even focus on your breathing anymore.
 He offered you his beer, which was half full and you drank it. Your mind wondered if he did this with other girls as well or if it was something exclusive that he only did with you, you wanted to be the only one.
"You seem a bit tense," His fingers enlaced a lock of your hair, putting it behind your ear. 
 His cheeks were slightly red from the heat, and so were his lips - probably from the pressure of the beer bottle against them -, his button-down shirt was more unbuttoned than usual, making it look like his necklaces was begging for your attention. It was clear that God was in a good mood and Thomas was his chosen one tonight. "Rumours has it -- that I make you nervous,"
There was no need to say it out loud. Dami had told Victoria, and it was logical that Victoria had also told Dami, then Dami told Thomas about you; in the same way Victoria told you about him. Thomas knew it was reciprocal.
“Rumours?” You mumbled. His face getting closer and closer to yours as his hands held the sides of your head; messing your hair a little. His face lit up in a naughty smile. “Is that what Dami said Victoria told him?”
“No matter who said it -- what matters is that I do it to you, right? Don’t I make you nervous?” He insisted as if he didn't know the answer. 
 At that moment the two of you were already a tangle. Your hand resting on his chest while your knees parted, giving more room to his weight.
You nodded. His eyes scanned your face for a moment and that was enough for your bodies to stick together, you could finally feel his lips on yours. He took his time caressing your nose with the tip of his one, running his fingers over your check. You were sure he could feel your body shiver under his touch as you melted in his tongue.
“Hey, Thomas,” you heard someone calling him. 
 The person was certainly drunk, which made you wonder whether Thomas was, too. He didn't taste like alcohol, but that could be the cigarette taste that has become prevalent for you.
 Could you be his drunk mistake? Would you be a one time thing? 
He broke the kiss, biting and pulling at your lower lip. You held a groan while he turned to the caller.
 You thought he would forget you there, but his hands went down to your hips and stayed there until his little conversation was over - his attention was still on you, fully on you. He squeezed your sides while you rested your head on his shoulder, watching him speak; specifically watching him because if someone asked you what they were talking about you wouldn’t know the answer to that.
“Do ya wanna go somewhere quieter?” He asked as soon as you were 'alone'. His lips now all over your neck and shoulder.
You wanted to, but the voices in your head screamed to be answered. Whould you really just be a one time thing for Thomas?
“We don't have to go, I don't mind spending my time here with you, bunny.”
You tilted your head to the side, holding his jaw in your hands to look at his face. “Actually, that whouldn’t be a bad thing.”
After your words, it was a matter of seconds before Thomas guided you through the house to his room. His silly smile remained on as he did his best to ignore everyone in his path.
You had never been in his room before but it was just as you imagined, there were some vinyls scattered on the floor along with some of his garments pieces, his guitar was on the bed, almost falling to the groud. His room was just as messy as him.
“If I knew I’d welcome you here, I’d have fix it a bit,” he murmured, placing the guitar in the corner of the room. He tries to arrange the blankets in the best way he could, and then sat on the end of the bed, gestuting for you to join him as well.
“I don't care much about the bed,” You whispered, realizing that it was really happening. You were with Thomas, in his room. You had just exchanged saliva with him a few minutes ago.
“So,” he sighed. “Are you sure about that?”
“About what?” You smirked. It was obvious that you knew what he was talking about.
“About what?” He repeated, throwing his body weight on the bed quite dramatically. “I don’t know, cute girl at a party, calling me to a quieter place,”
“Wait,” you leaned over him, awkwardly getting on top of him. “I didn’t ask you that,”
“Like you need to ask me to know that the answer would be yes.” His hand stopped over the hem of your skirt, making it possible to feel his fingertips on your thigh.
You came closer to him, feeling your breath blend with his warm one. You would be lying if you said you had never fantasized about that moment before. Taking a deep breath, you tickled his cheek with your nose as he pulled all your body into his. 
 It wouldn't hurt to let that happen and only worry about the other things on your head the next day, right?
 “Yeah, I’m sure about that,” You pressed your lips together. 
 His hands squeezed your waist, turning your body over so your back was now on the mattress.
“Arms up,” he said in between a sigh. 
You raised your arms, letting him remove your shirt. He had a comforting look on his features that soothed you.
He stood on the bed before stepping out of it. You laughed through your tension.
“What you’re doing?” You asked, leaning on your elbows. 
 He knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. You felt your body tense even more, your head full of thoughts per minutes. You did not remember the last time you had shaved, let alone if there were any marks on there too.
“I’m gonna take care of ya, bunny, “ He breathed and you could have sworn to feel him in you already. “Just relax,” his mouth trailed wet kisses down your things. He pulled your skirt up to your waist; in movements that seemed so perfect that could only have been calculated. Maybe he was a bit nervous, not as nervous as you, but a cool type of nervous. 
You nodded, looking at the ceiling, feeling as he pulled your knees towards him. You opened your thighs slowly and soon felt his lips on your clit through the cotton. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in his. And God, he felt like heavens. 
“Don’t just nod at me. I want to hear you, lil’ bunny,” He rubbed the already wet fabric with his index finger.
You weren't sure what he was referring to, but seeing his face resting on the inside of your thigh, with his messy hair and eyes stuck on you; you know you would be able to do anything he wanted you to do.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
He put the cotton piece aside, diving himself in your nectar and slipping his fingers inside you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back at the feeling. He hummed in a smiled that sent you vibrations every once in a while, he clearly knew what he was doing. Soon, he shoved his tongue down your core, licking and sucking, gathering all your juice in his mouth. 
“So sweet,” he moaned at your taste, starting to lap his tongue at your clit. Joints deep down your pussy, going faster on you, making your legs quiver around his head as you turned into a whining mess.
“Thommie,” you grunted, tugging hard at his soft curls. “Oh, please.” you gasped through your dry throat.
 The combination of his tongue and fingers working on you made the butterflies in your stomach go wild and in between spasms and wriggling toes, you allowed yourself to surrender under his touch.
 Your vision blurred and your breathing ability seemed to have left your soul, but he kept with the wet kisses until you calmed down.
Your body was weak; that good weakness where you wished to stay quiet in the same comfy bliss forever.
“Are you good?” His voice made you open your eyes again. His chin was glistening and shirt folded up to the elbows. Such a sight for sore eyes.
“I’m fine, I’m pretty fine,” he laughed, helping you adjust your skirt.
“You’re pretty,” he said at your previous words, lying down and putting you on top of him.
Both of your faces were close - just as it had been all night. You could get used to it. Looking in his eyes, you wanted to ask if he would still think you were beautiful in the morning, when all the enthusiasm that parties bring to people were over; but you decided to go against it when you remembered that you had promised yourself to enjoy the moment.
“Whatcha thinkin’?” His asked, clasping his arms around. You felt nicely snugged.
“You,” it wasn't completely a lie.
His smile got bigger, and it was possible to analyze his cute crooked teeth. His eyes glued to you, sweet and happy, that you wished you could decipher him through it.
“Good, -- I like it like that,” He added.
It would be a matter of days for you to learn that his look was one of fondness and that you would live under it for months, seasons and even years.
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idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
Sweet Little Love.
Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Lil Angst
Warnings: brief mention of violence
Requested: nope
Summary: The Y/L/Ns are a well-off family in New York, and are good friends with Sam Wilson. One day Y/N is threatened by a stalker and needs a bodyguard, so Sam suggests Bucky. Bucky doesn't want to do it; the last thing he wants is to deal with a spoiled, bratty rich girl for a whole month. The only thing is, Bucky has terribly misjudged her and now he can't help falling in love with her.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! the last scene is just a small bonus crack!scene sjsjsjs lmao, enjoy!
---
If there was one type of person Bucky liked, it was someone who was kind, polite, helpful and caring… and Bucky knew the person he was going to work for was going to be none of those things. "Sam, come on, man, I don't want to do this," Bucky groaned as he followed his best friend down the street. "I already promised, Bucky."
"Why did you?! I don't want to spend my whole day around spoiled little brats, they're the worst!" Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, number one: You have to look after only one person and number two: Why don't you just meet her once? Then you can decide for yourself, how about that?"
Bucky had been hired by one of Sam's friends, Mr Y/L/N, as a bodyguard for his daughter. He didn't know the daughter at all; but the one thing he was sure about was that she was going to be a pain in the ass for him, like in every single movie about rich girls and bodyguards. Mouthy, petty, sassy, rude…
He was in no mood to deal with someone like that.
Ms Y/L/N, he assumed, had been sent some threats over a week ago by a stalker and so the poor father was worried sick as he frantically searched for bodyguards. Sam was also informed and before he knew it, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was hired. To be honest, the Y/L/Ns were paying a lot so… since he had given up Avenging, the income would be great.
Plus, she only needed protection for around a month or so. Speaking of the daughter, how old was she even going to be? Maybe a child below 10? A rebellious teenager? Who knows? "Alright, stop here. She's supposed to be here somewhere, let me call Y/L/N." Bucky huffed and looked around the crowded streets as Sam contacted the father.
That's when his eyes landed on a lady. She was beautiful; wearing what looked like a tennis skirt and a university hoodie, along with sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a braid and she had a bright smile on her face. Bucky blinked twice and watched. Her body or clothes didn't catch his attention, but her actions sure did.
She was chatting with another, older woman who had coffee spilled all over her white tee. The young lady was holding a baby in her arms, bouncing the sweet child as the older woman hurriedly tried to clean her clothes. Through his super-soldier hearing, he caught their conversation. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this," the woman sighed.
"It's okay, ma'am, you are not a bother. You were clearly in need of help and you know how New York is…" Both women giggled. The older woman soon left with her child but the young lady continued standing there, looking around, as if waiting for someone. Probably a boyfriend, Bucky thought.
"Why is he not picking up?!"
Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam before looking over at the pretty lady again, who had started bouncing back and forth on her heels, glancing everywhere. That's when a loud wail echoed above the already busy street. The lady's eyes snapped towards the voice before she took off running towards a little boy who had tripped over.
The little kid was blond and scrawny, reminding Bucky of a little Steve. He smiled fondly at the memory. "Are you hurt, bubba?" Y/N asked the kid adoringly as she helped him stand. The boy's lower lip wobbled as he tried to hold his tears in but was unsuccessful. "Aw, come here…" Bucky gulped when the lady got on her knees and hugged the child.
She's so kind.
The kid hugged back just as eagerly, sobbing into her shoulder. Soon, two adults approached her; a gay couple, the parents of the kid. They, too, watched with appreciation as the lady easily calmed the kid down with her soothing presence. An involuntary smile bloomed on Bucky's face; if he was in that kid's position, he'd have stopped crying too. The lady was wonderful.
"Thank you so much, honey," one of the men grinned when the lady stood up, dusting her knees and giving the kid a smile. "Oh, it's not a problem! You know what?" She dug around in her purse and pulled out a lollipop. "I always have some on me. I'm a big fan. You?" The boy giggled and eagerly accepted the candy.
"Steve, what do you say?"
Bucky almost laughed. The kid's name was also Steve? Amazing! "Thank you!" Steve exclaimed with a bright smile, making the lady laugh. "No problem! Have a good day!" She waved at the family of three before returning to her original place, standing outside a café. Bucky was enamored at this point.
"Any luck?" he drawled, glancing at Sam who shook his head. "That dick," he grumbled under his breath and Bucky grinned, getting back to watching the pretty lady but she was nowhere to be found. He looked around until he saw her crossing the road, an old man holding her arm with one hand as the other held his walking cane.
She was on his side of the street now, just a few feet away from him. "You are an angel, darling," the old man crooned as he patted her cheek, letting go of her arm once he was safely on the other side. An angel indeed, Bucky smiled to himself. "Oh, sir, I try…" she spoke bashfully, turning in his direction as the man left.
Bucky quickly averted his gaze, he didn't want to look like a creep. "Sam? Sam, is that you? Wilson!" Bucky froze at the lady's voice, her footsteps nearing the place where he and Sam were standing. Wait, is that...? Sam looked away from his phone, eyes lighting up as they landed on the lady. "Y/N? When did you arrive?" Bucky watched as they hugged.
"Been here for a long time, dad said you were going to introduce me to my bodyguard today. He's a good friend of yours, right?" Sam turned and motioned towards Bucky. He stepped forward. "Hi, I'm James Barnes," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. He couldn't believe he had called this angel a spoiled, rich brat.
I'm never gonna forgive myself.
"James, nice to meet you! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Thanks for doing this, I'm probably going to be a burden—" He immediately shook his head. "Oh, no no no, don't say that! I can tell we're going to be good friends." He winked and she couldn't help but giggle. Bucky didn't even correct her on the name, something about the way she said it made a shiver run down his spine.
"Well, um, do we start now, or…?"
"Your choice," he interrupted, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat as he stared at her, heart swelling with affection. "I already feel safe," she half-joked, "Start now. I have a few places to go to…" He was ready to follow her to Hell and back. "Of course." Both of them turned to Sam, who had a knowing smirk on his face.
If it were anyone else Bucky would've given him his infamous glare but Y/N? He was hoping for a connection. "You two enjoy your date— I mean, day. Anyway, what's up with your dad, girl, he's not picking up my calls." Bucky rolled his eyes at the slip up. "He's not? Maybe he's in a meeting. If you want you can go visit."
"Gonna do just that, tell him that his precious little daughter is in safe hands." Y/N looked at Bucky with a huge smile. "No doubt about that! It's getting late, I'll see you later!" Y/N started walking away and Bucky immediately followed with a nod towards Sam. "Hey, um, I saw you, you know?" he blurted out.
"Saw me? Doing what?" Y/N blinked. "You helping the lady with the child, the kid who tripped over— Steve, his name was? And the old man you helped cross the street. I just wanna say that was amazing. You're a great person, Y/N, I'm honored to be your bodyguard." She gasped softly and looked away, chewing her bottom lip as she grinned, cheeks heating up.
"Oh, um, it's just— I like to help people. It's how my parents raised me. Yeah, we might be rich but I'm not spoiled. Lots of people think that when I tell them I'm Mr Y/L/N's daughter. It hurts sometimes, you know? People just assume anything about you without even knowing you. That's why I try to be good. I don't want to be a bad person," she rushed out, unconsciously voicing all her insecurities.
Bucky's heart sank in his chest as he let out a dry chuckle. "Ugh, just saying this is gonna make me throw up but I assumed that too. I thought I was gonna work with a spoiled, rich brat. I was horribly, horribly wrong, I hope you can forgive me, doll." She turned to him, but she wasn't mad in the slightest. She even started getting a tiny crush on him, I mean, hey, the man is eye-candy. "It's fine! I forgive you, you didn't know."
"No, it's not fine. I shouldn't have made assumptions, I feel like the biggest ass in the world," he scoffed, looking away from her. "James, please, it's okay. You know now, right? Don't feel bad! Why don't we stop for a coffee on the way?" How could he say no to that?
---
2 weeks passed. Y/N and Bucky became incredibly close friends; Bucky went as far as revealing the truth about himself, how he used to be an Avenger, how he lost his arm, everything. What he didn't expect was her to cry at his story. "You did not deserve to go through that, they did you so dirty…" she sniffled and he hugged her like his life depended on it. It kinda did.
God, if he didn't fall in love the first time they met, he was definitely in love now. "Doll, I'm here now, aren't I? All good— well, maybe not all good." And his face broke into the biggest grin ever when he heard a chuckle from her. "I'm glad you're here." Just those 4 words and Bucky vowed that he was never gonna let her go.
"I'm getting coffee, you wait here. Don't go anywhere else."
"Aye aye, Captain!" Y/N laughed and he smiled back as he entered the café. Y/N stood outside, typing away on her phone when someone suddenly grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her into the alley next to the café. She couldn't even scream, breathing was difficult with his hand around her neck.
"We finally meet, sweetheart." Oh, God, it was him. The stalker. Y/N whimpered, struggling to get out of his arms but he only tightened his hold on her. Bucky, Bucky please— Over time, Y/N had grown fond of Bucky. He still asked her to call him James, he said it felt good when she called him that. So she did.
He was so protective of her, almost like she was his girlfriend. He was also handsome; incredibly so, with his stormy blue eyes, his tall and broad figure and razor sharp jaw. His first priority was always her and it made her warm inside. She'd decided to ask him out at the end of the month, but it was looking a bit difficult now.
"Your bodyguard not with you today? What happened, lover's quarrel?" the man smirked tauntingly as Y/N's vision blurred due to lack of oxygen. She blinked back tears, crying again when he tightened his hold on her neck. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, no one's gonna hear it," he laughed.
"Try me."
The man's head whipped to the side only for Bucky's metal fist to connect with his jaw. He fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious at the first punch. Y/N slid down to her knees. Her hands went to her neck, coughing and dry heaving. "Doll? Doll, come here." Bucky felt immense guilt as he gathered her in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his car.
He left her alone. That was the one thing he wasn't supposed to do. "James…" Y/N wheezed, curling closer to him when he tried to put her in the backseat. "Doll, you have to get in," he insisted but she shook her head. "Not without you. Please." Bucky sighed and got into the backseat, holding Y/N against his chest.
She was pretty shaken up. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He felt himself tearing up. "No… not your fault… you… coffee… I wasn't… phone…" Bucky handed her a bottle of water when she wheezed again. "Drink up, baby," he whispered as he held the bottle to her lips because she refused to let go of his sweater. After drinking some water her throat felt better.
"Don't go, please, I need you," she sobbed as she completely curled against him, wetting his sweater as she cried in his arms. "You will always have me, doll. I'm not going anywhere. Not again," he assured her as he rubbed her back, wiping his own tears away. All of a sudden, she pulled away and pressed her lips to his. "I love you."
He pulled her in for another kiss, fireworks exploding in his head at the confession. Only two weeks had passed but they were both sure about their feelings. "I love you too, doll. You're mine now, only mine," he groaned against her lips. "Only yours," she agreed, burying her face back in his shoulder as he pulled her impossibly close.
"You're not getting out of my sight ever again."
And he kept his promise.
---
"And then I— where do you think you're going?" Sam blinked as Bucky abruptly stood up, eyes trained on his wife. She gave him a smile and walked out of the room, Bucky following her out like a puppy. "To the bathroom, Sam!" Y/N called out behind her and Sam turned to the parents, blinking in confusion as they roared with laughter.
"Why does she need him there?" Sam asked "Oh, haven't you heard? Bucky hasn't broken the promise he gave Y/N 6 years ago," Mrs Y/L/N explained vaguely. "What promise?" Mr Y/L/N laughed once more. "He told her she was never getting out of sight after the incident. And well…" Y/N and Bucky returned at the exact time as Sam made a face.
"Don't you get tired of him?" Sam groaned as Bucky sat down, pulling his wife on his lap. "Oh no no, it helps that she's as much in love with him as he is with her. They do not get tired of each other," Mrs Y/L/N shook her head with a fond smile. "It helps that he's handsome and aesthetically pleasing to look at," Y/N crooned, squishing her husband's cheeks as he laughed and swatted her hands away.
"Even in the bathroom?!"
"He stands outside as a guard," she shrugged. "Damn. Y'all are weird," Sam muttered, barely catching the book Bucky threw towards him. "Not weird. Just looking out for her, like I promised," he muttered, cheeks flushing. "You do know that the threat was 6 years ago, right? Six!" Sam threw his hands up.
"What if there's a new one?" Bucky countered exasperatedly. Sam only shook his head at the couple before a smile broke out on his face. "I've never seen a couple so in love. You two are cute," he commented as laughter filled the room. No more threats, no more danger.
Just a sweet little family and their sweet little love.
---
A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
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minilpark · 2 years
Note
hello! may i request headcanons of bob having a crush on coyote’s sister? thank u!! (if not dw about it😅)
hey! i think this is a cool request, however i was a bit unsure if you wanted it to be like you as coyote's sibling or just bob crushing on coyote's sibling in general (not that it would make a huge difference in my hcs) but i will be doing the former!
this time round my hcs are with a civilian!reader
moving to cali was one of the most impulsive decisions you've ever made
but it was also one of the best
the separation from home and the rest of your family is something you needed in order to grow and become more of your own person
of course there were times you were homesick
so you would either video call home or when your brother, javy, wasn't busy, you two would hang
luckily he's been stationed to the base nearby
(youre not gonna lie it was also a good reason to move near there just in case he would be stationed there lmao)
so, when he got to town, he thought it would be cool to invite you out for a drink and to meet some of his friends/coworkers
it was about a 20 minute drive to the bar called the hard deck
apparently it was a navy hot spot so you were prepared for what you were going to be faced with-
and that was a bunch of naval officers with overbearing confidence
once you found a parking spot you let javy know you arrived and he said to meet him inside near the pool table
which is where you went and got introduced to the group of lieutenants hanging around him
javy definitely kept some of them (the men for the most part) on their best behaviour
i mean you were his sibling of course
and he knew that anyone involved in the military were partially red flags
so he wanted to protect you from falling into the trap as much as he could
honestly you quickly formed opinions on the company javy kept
hangman - seemed like a cocky asshole, but there was a hidden nice quality about him
phoenix - definitely a hard ass but for good reason, you respected her and honestly one of the more dateable people here
payback - he was fucking hilarious and you thought he would be a cool friend
fanboy - honestly you could imagine being good friends with him as well, he was definitely a lot nicer than some other pilots
rooster - despite him coming in late, he greeted you nicely, you could also sense something was up between him and hangman but decided not to get into it
last but not least, the man who caught your eye-
bob - he was quieter than the rest of the group, mainly keeping to himself but you noticed how observant he was, honestly there was just this boyish quality about him that you found really cute
you and bob didn't fail to make eye contact a couple times throughout the night
and when you all gathered around to hear rooster sing, he sat near you
while you were singing along with everyone, bob was watching you
and he thought you were amazing
you seemed to be so carefree to him and he loved the refreshing air you brought to the group as soon as you were introduced
he definitely had a bit of a crush
and who else other than rooster would confront the man about it
yep, after the song, rooster came up to bob, patted his shoulder and leaned over to whisper something in his ear while you went with phoenix and the others to start a game of darts
"you should go talk to them, its clear you have a thing for them, and they definitely have been sending you looks back all night-"
bob was honestly so embarrassed that rooster knew that he started to turn a bit red
"i don't know man, they're coyote's sibling, he'd probably kill me if he knew-"
to which rooster just shook his head a lil
"take a chance man, i don't think he'd truly hold you or them back if he knew that you'd treat them right and make them happy-"
and so bob did take a chance
after rooster bought him a couple shots
he came over later in the night to sit across from you at one of the booths and started up a conversation
which intrigued you because you weren't really expecting him to make a move, let alone him starting the conversation asking questions about you instead of talking about himself, unlike other people-
javy didn't really notice the two of you talking until he heard you laughing from the booth
to which he paused in the middle of the pool game with hangman
in turn, causing jake to take notice as well, coming up to coyote and clapping him on the back
"looks like bob here is making a move on your little sibling- how do you feel about that?"
the way he phrased it obviously was meant to antagonise him but javy just smiled and shook his head a bit
"well, it's not like i can stop them, they're old enough to make their own decisions"
while you were busy talking about whatever topic you were on with bob, he happened to make eye contact with your brother
and he was surprised to see an approving nod come from coyote
the nod he interpreted as both approval and a warning
to which bob smiled and nodded back slightly
almost as a promise that he'll be looking out for you best interest should this go any further with you
and you can bet your ass you went out with him again
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lacharcutiere · 3 years
Text
ur my favorite drug & my worst hangover [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]
5,9k words
✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯
Tumblr media
winter sem break brings the new year, & a few other new developments too.
smut, tiny bit of angst, fwb, fluff // quit - lil aaron & travis barker. god this song goes so hard
the way all i talk abt is how much i love teru but have nothing to show for it— yeah we’re gonna fix that. man i love him
☾𓆙𓂻
— SOBER
the soft hum of the tv in the background slowly fades into your awareness as you blink blearily awake, almost forgetting where you are for a second.
you’re in yūji’s living room, duh. your semestral break has not been nearly as interesting as either of you’d hoped: instead, you’ve both succumbed to alternating between each other’s childhood homes, binging netflix and random youtube videos and eating chips and tubs of ice cream late into the night, as has been your custom for years.
it’s dim but for the glow of the screen, and it’s kind of chilly in here now, even with you wrapped up in a hoodie. (yours, not yūji’s. you only borrow his in emergencies.)
he’s not next to you now, but his footsteps—you know them by now: quick and kind of heavy but not overbearingly loud—are entering the room again, and you feel the sofa cushions dip a little as he retakes his seat next to you.
“hey,” he says, smiling, “you’re awake.”
“hmmph,” you mumble, sitting upright to stretch your back. “what time is it?”
“uh.” he squints at the digital clock next to the tv. “like one?”
“‘m cold.”
“me too.”
“‘nd tired.”
“you just woke up?”
“i’m tired,” you whine.
yūji groans. “you’re really gonna make me go to sleep this early?”
“you don’t have to sleep, but i will.”
“yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but who’s gonna keep me company then?”
“i dunno,” you shoot back, “text tetsu or something. he’s probably still up.”
he rolls his eyes but relents, standing from the sofa. “fine.” and he holds out a hand to help you up, which you don’t take.
“i can do shit for myself,” you joke, rolling your eyes.
“right.”
it’s not much warmer in his room despite the thermostat supposedly being set to an acceptable temperature, but at least the sleeping bag on the floor next to yūji’s bed is insulated, and he’s given you a couple extra blankets for which you’re grateful. the biting chill of january does not fuck around.
so you nestle yourself into a little cocoon of linens and pillows and pull your hood up, curling into a ball in an effort to conserve your body heat. you hear him laugh a little as he watches you.
“what?”
“nothing.”
there’s the light hum of a phone ringing a few times, and that little beep as tetsu picks up the facetime call.
sleep clouds your senses to the background music of stifled laughter and loud whispers and the occasional static of yūji’s phone speaker.
— BUT U PULLED ME CLOSER
the next few minutes, hour—you have no idea—pass just like that, with you drifting languidly in and out of sleep and the sounds of yūji and tetsurō’s voices audible but incomprehensible in the background.
last you remember, you’re slipping back under again, hearing tetsu through the staticky iphone speaker.
and then you wake up again because you’re fucking freezing and it’s quiet and the lights are off, except for the little reading light mounted to the headboard of yūji’s bed. you sit up on your elbows, craning your neck, and see that he’s still up, lying on his stomach with his phone dimly illuminating his face.
“what time’s it?” you mumble.
“uh... 2:38.” he pauses. “y’alright?”
“cold,” you say.
he locks his phone then, and he just looks at you kind of blankly and maybe a little mockingly? except it must not be mocking; it must be something else, because he’s just kind of... studying you.
you look back up at him expectantly. “what?” you say.
he sighs, kind of rolls his eyes, turns away from the light to hide the little smile playing on his lips. “come on up here.” he scoots over and pats the spot next to him.
thankful for an extra source of body heat and blankets and pillows, you shove yourself up off the ground and shuffle over to the bed.
it’s kind of funny, the way you’re basically adults now and yet your relationship’s still fundamentally the same as it was when you met years ago.
duh, yūji hates that. it’s true, that whole thing about how “every one of your guy friends has thought about fucking you at some point.” it’s true, at least for him.
and there’s something electric in how you haven’t slept next to him in months because you’ve both been busy with school, and now you’re back here. back here, where it feels like you belong.
there’s something deep in his chest that’s set aflame by the way you laugh and let him tuck the comforter over you; the way your sweatpant-covered legs brush against his own underneath it.
he wants to touch you.
he wants to wrap his hand around your thigh and pull it over his own; to run his fingertips up the length of your arm and make you shiver; to snake his around your waist and pull your head into his chest.
maybe he will once you’re asleep, he figures. once his pride can’t be hurt because you don’t have to know.
except... except he’d let it be hurt for you. without a moment’s hesitation. he would shatter it himself for you, would let you take him in your fingers and rip him to pieces too small to be puzzled back together.
because maybe he doesn’t just want you. maybe he loves you.
but even he, completely truthfully, doesn’t know.
he’s got a sneaking suspicion that he does, though, because he’s rarely confused and this is an enigma he can’t quite seem to decipher, no matter what he tries.
it’s absurd, too, he realizes laying on his back next to you, how suddenly he’s afraid to touch you. because the two of you have always been touchy, that’s just you. you’re two halves; you’re so similar. you’ve been attached at the hip since childhood—why is it different now, now that he wants that more than anything?
so here he is, spiraling in this conundrum of feelings, when it’s cut short by you, tiredly whining, “yūji.”
“what?” he sort of feigns annoyance.
“‘m cold.”
“and?”
and. and his breath catches because you roll over and latch onto him. and he brings his arms around your shoulders and holds you to his chest.
so close, and yet so far away.
and he shudders as you lay one hand flat on his chest. it belongs there forever.
you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale his scent and his brain short-circuits.
has she done this before?
and mostly unconscious, you mumble, “—warm. y’re pretty’.” his eyes go wide.
“what?”
your arms tighten around him, and he’d hate to admit it, but it’s setting him off. he’s... a little hard.
a hand settles itself on your thigh, the one that’s draped over his legs, and he pushes it downward a little, so that it’s not resting next to the rising erection in his pajama pants.
god, he wants to fuck you so badly right now, he wants for you to feel him throbbing between your legs as you whimper against his skin. but he also wants you to want him.
miraculously, a little sigh escapes your lips at the touch. so he doesn’t move his hand.
“feels nice,” you whisper.
so he decides to test the waters, and squeezes gently. you giggle sleepily.
inhibitions dissipating for a moment, his stomach leaps to his chest and he snakes that hand up over your hip, consciously avoiding your ass just in case, and rests it on your back, rubbing up and down slowly.
his chest constricts as you snuggle even closer to him. and then your leg moves back up and your thigh nudges his crotch.
your eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.
and then you’re propped up on your elbow, leaning over him.
he curses himself for forgetting to turn off the light; the flush in his cheeks is obvious.
half terrified and half excited, he watches as your face breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin.
“what?” he breathes.
your eyes narrow; a look of mischief he’s so familiar with, one that’s often mirrored on his own features. (it’s not now.)
“yūji,” you say, singsong and bright, “what’s this?”
and—oh, god, oh, fuck—you bring a hand down to rest on his dick, tenting in his pajamas.
he doesn’t know what to say to you.
“i— uhm—”
“hmm,” you hum. “y’ alright?”
he clears his throat, nods. “are— uh, are you?”
“mhm,” you laugh, wide awake now. “yūji...” you pause. he can’t stand it; he needs to know what happens next, needs to know what’s fanning the flames behind your eyes.
oh god. oh god, all he leaves is a breath in between and then you’re throwing your leg over him again and, fuck, you’re straddling him. he lets out a shaky breath, voice tight as he chokes out, “what are you doing?”
the smile is gone from your face now, replaced with something softer, something lustful. your hands move to his shoulders to balance yourself as you grind your hips down, and a low ahh slips out of him.
it’s just like that, just your clothed bodies rubbing together. he comes embarrassingly quickly in his boxers, but he lets you ride his thigh until you finish as recompense.
afterward, he excuses himself and cleans himself off in the bathroom. when he comes back, you’re sound asleep again.
that’s all that happens.
— UR GONNA FUCK ME UP
following that, everything proceeds as it had before. neither of you bother to speak of it, but nothing even seems off between you at all. it’s as if it never happened.
or maybe, yūji sometimes allows himself to think as he touches himself to the memory in the middle of nights when you’re not together, it’s like it was meant to happen.
what a wonderful illusion that is.
because he knows it won’t work, and if you ever thought about him like that, you would know, too.
the two of you have watched each other fall in love—get dumped, ghost people, whatever—several times over the past few years. he remembers your first boyfriend, your last year of middle school: the guy had been a mutual friend that you’d been crushing on for months. and yet, when you’d finally become a thing, it had taken no more than a couple of weeks for you to grow uninterested and dump him.
it’s not like he hasn’t done similar things in the past.
and it’s not like some people who’ve dated either of you haven’t had better luck; there have been several who have been the ones to break your hearts.
but both of you have yet to have maintained a long-term relationship, and neither of you have kept in contact with many of your exes.
he doesn’t want to be another one of those, and he certainly doesn’t want you to be, either.
it’s maybe a week after that night when you pick him up to go get takeout and ice cream.
that, in itself, is a pretty normal thing.
but then you’re sitting in your car, and between spoonfuls of mocha chip and hot caramel, you say, “so i saw this thing.”
“hm?” he responds, his mouth still full.
“your aura is striking, dude,” you quote. there’s a pause as you try to suppress a giggle. and then: “can i kiss you deeply, bro?”
he snorts and jokes, “anytime you want.” and he really hopes that you take his tone at face value, but he also knows you way better than that.
so he’s only half surprised when you actually do. half surprised, and wholly in awe.
your hands are in each other’s hair. it’s quick—feverish, but quick—and the first thing you say when you pull back is, “tastes like sugar.”
he laughs again, unsure of what move to make next. “yeah?”
and then you’re... shy? because you look away from him, back down to the cup of ice cream in your lap, and you say, “you feel good.” it’s so low that it’s almost unintelligible. but he hears you.
both your faces are burning when you look back up at him. “should we talk about that?”
“‘bout what? kissing? ‘s not the first time.”
it isn’t—he kissed you once in middle school, because there was this other girl that he’d thought was pretty, and he wanted to make her jealous. it hadn’t worked; she’d just thought the two of you were together, and a teacher had scolded you for pda. but at least it had been a fun story to laugh at for a while after.
this is obviously different, though, and you both know that. this kiss wasn’t to make anyone jealous. this one was for yourselves.
and anyway, that’s not what you meant by that.
“no,” you say. “the um... last week. at your place.”
“oh, yeah.”
“should we, um, do you wanna talk about it?”
“d’you?”
you shrug.
“alright,” he says. pauses. “so... what was that about?”
and you almost laugh incredulously. “you’re asking me?”
he stares blankly.
“you’re the one who got a boner when we were cuddling, yūji. as if we’ve never done that before.” you notice the mortified look on his face, and your expression softens and your voice lowers. “you wanna tell me what that was about? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
and he laughs nervously and says, “no, no, ‘s fine. i was just kinda horny, that’s all. i haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, y’know?”
you give him a sardonic grin. “and that’s why it only took you, like, three minutes to come?”
“yeah... yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
a moment passes where you stop and think for a little, and then you turn back to look at him. “it was, uh, good, though. like, objectively. it was good.”
it’s his turn to flash a grin at you: “‘course it was. it’s me.”
“and me.”
“shoulda won the sex gods superlative in last year’s yearbook.”
“ha.” another thing crosses your mind: “and now look at us. too busy with school to even have time to fuck anyone.”
yūji doesn’t say anything, so you do it for him.
you start out carefully. “but...”
“but?”
“do you— i mean. we’ve got, like, what? three weeks left before we go back? and we’re stuck here. and— and we already hang out like every single day anyway, and. uh. and it was objectively good.”
“are you—”
“and i’ve known you for years. come on. there’s, like, nothing i could do to embarrass myself around you anymore.”
friends with benefits. you’re suggesting that you temporarily be friends with benefits.
“and it wasn’t weird after last time,” you add. “i think.”
“hm,” he says, “yeah, no, it wasn’t.”
his first instinct is to say no, to tell you it’s a bad idea. but as he thinks about it more, he realizes that you’re kind of right. and anyway, what is the worst that could happen? because he’s pretty sure he’s far gone enough for you that falling a little further wouldn’t change a thing. even if he weren’t, he’d never think of hurting you intentionally.
and, he figures, he’d hardly mind being hurt by you.
that is how you end up back in his bed an hour later—his parents are out on a date this evening; you’ve got until a few hours past sundown to fuck and clean yourselves off and make it look like you’ve been eating and talking and watching tv the whole time.
outside of the guise of midnight impulses, it is a strange—but also strangely pleasant—thing to be having sex with your best friend.
there’s no pretense, hardly any need to keep up appearances (at least, for you). you’re not strangers only concerned with your own pleasure; you know each other. despite never actually having done this before, he already knows what you like, and vice versa.
it’s nice.
it’s nice to hear him laugh when you whine for him to stop being so gentle, vanilla-ass bitch, only to have him call you a “horny little—” (to which you respond, no, you.)
and it’s nice to sleep with someone who reads all the cues you give him without you even needing to say anything.
it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.
it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and... it might not be just because of the dynamic between you two, or the fact that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him what you like and what you don’t—the fact that you don’t even have to tell him at all.
it’s nice. for you. and it’s hell for him.
it’s hell for him to have to hold back all the sweet nothings he wants to whisper in your ear—he’s restricted to you like that, huh, baby? and fuuuck and god, you’re so fucking tight, and he knows you’re into it, but he wants to be treating you like a princess right now. he wants to call you his, wants to whisper, tell me you’re all mine against your bare shoulders, wants to tell you he loves you.
so... he does love you.
but he can’t say that. he knows he can keep you around, but you’re not his to keep.
it continues like that for the next several days: you fuck, it’s good sex, and he’ll touch himself to the memories if you’re not there: memories of how you taste, of the softness of your skin, of you with your legs around his waist and your bare chests pressed together, damp and warm with sweat.
it is so gratifying, and even more painful.
and then, one day, as he’s fucking you in your childhood bedroom—all white walls covered in sketches and colorful postcards you’ve accumulated over the years—something is slightly off.
there’s something about it that feels more intimate than the other times, and it goes slower than before. it’s not all lust and clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor and bodies shoved hurriedly into mattresses.
you kiss him for a long time before any clothing comes off, and you keep pulling him back to your lips as he thrusts into you. you’re not urging him faster, more, harder; you let him keep a steady pace and arch your back into the sheets as you lie underneath him.
it hits him as you come down from your orgasm and writhe in his arms, softly moaning, “god, yūji, i l—”
he stops.
“don’t say that,” he says.
still shaking and catching your breath, you respond, “what?”
“just don’t.” but his tone is casual, and so you don’t think much of it.
you don’t hook up every time you hang out, and yeah. you were right. it’s hardly different than before. except, isn’t it?
you’re sitting on opposite sides of your sofa one morning after your parents have left for work—he slept over the previous night, but you didn’t have sex. you’d spent it laughing over the dumbest things and blasting music as you drove around without a destination.
your’re sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, scrolling lazily on your phone while you and yūji eat handfuls of cereal straight from the box between you.
it’s mostly quiet for once; comfortably silent. neither of you have ever really been a morning person.
— BUT U KNOW I LIKE IT
the ice cracks a little when he stops shoving your hand away to grab himself another handful of cereal. you notice, and then you wonder if you always noticed little things like that, because it feels kind of weird to. not that you mind.
meanwhile, yūji watches you, studying the way your hair falls messily around your face, the way one sleeve of your sweatshirt is rolled halfway up your forearm and the other is pulled all the way over your hand.
the living room is bright, surrounded by windows, and you’re illuminated by light yellow late-morning sunlight all around and he feels safe looking at you.
the ice cracks a little more when he says your name softly.
“hm?” you say, confusedly looking up at him.
“nothing,” he answers, too quickly. “i’m just... happy right now.”
you smile, radiant. “i’m glad you are.”
in the afternoon, you’ve grown bored and are wandering the streets of your neighborhood, voicing thoughts and pointing out people you pass by.
it’s still early, but it’s january, so the sun is already beginning to set.
when you’re a couple minutes out from your house, yūji goes quiet, and it stays like that for the rest of the walk.
and then, as he stands next to you while you unlock the door, he blurts, “i have to tell you something.”
you freeze. “what?”
it’s silent for a bit. “never mind.”
“yūji—”
“it’s okay,” he says softly.
he wants to shrink away from your gaze as you study him. he knows you know there’s something amiss, and second thoughts have almost always been his own personal hell.
graciously, though, you don’t ask. and it’s like stepping through a portal when you’re back inside; it’s all forgotten and back to how it was before.
but: a little while later, you’re lying side-by-side on your bed watching netflix again, and for whatever reason you turn to look at him for a moment and it’s just—
you can’t look away. and you don’t know why.
he can feel your eyes on him and it burns, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up before he loses his mind.
when he doesn’t turn to face you, you call his name softly.
“hm?”
after an uncomfortable moment of hesitation, you say, “something’s up.”
“what?”
“yūji,” you repeat, and he forgets to breathe for a second. “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits up, resting his head in his hands. he takes a deep breath and can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.
“what’s wrong?” it sounds less like a question and more like a plea.
“i—” he starts, and then stops himself. “i can’t, i can’t do this to you.”
“can’t do what?”
there’s a painful silence, heavy with anticipation and maybe a little bit of dread.
“i don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.”
you sit up, too.
“did i...? do something wrong?”
he shakes his head and sighs, and he sounds exasperated. “it’s... no, it’s— i think...” and he seems to grow more frustrated as he fails to verbalize whatever it is, this strange cold fire stinging in the pit of his stomach.
“what do you think?” you whisper.
and he stands and walks to the door. his hand rests on the knob and he whispers back, in a voice that sounds precariously close to breaking, “you, when i... y’know. ’m sorry.”
and he’s gone.
and you have no idea what to think, both of what he just said and the fact that it sends an excited buzz through your nerves, even though it probably shouldn’t.
— IT'S HARD N IT'S HARDER TO ADMIT
his words are stuck in your head all night, have you caught somewhere in between laughing and crying.
you want to call him, ask him what the fuck is going on and why you think you kind of like it, but you don’t.
but when you look over at your alarm clock to see that it’s 2:00 a.m. and sleep refuses to let you succumb to it and you relent to the warm emptiness between your legs, it’s yūji whom you imagine is there to fill it.
you think of the way his tongue trails down the expanse of your neck, the way he feels inside you, as you whine into your pillow and desperately try to make yourself come.
it doesn’t even occur to you until later, when you’re waking up to sunlight slicing through your half-open blinds. and then it does, and you text him: i do that too.
he doesn’t text back, but ten minutes later, your phone rings. he sounds breathless.
“be here in ten,” he says.
you pause. “okay.”
and you are. he throws open the door as he hears your car pull up and jogs out to meet you, and all he gives you is a quick, “hey,” before dragging you inside.
there’s no one else home, so he motions for you to have a seat at the kitchen table and takes the one next to you.
“do what too?”
“what?”
“what you texted me.”
you look down, studying the seams of your sleeve and feeling your breathing go shallow.
“do what too?” he repeats.
and softly, you say, “want you.”
yūji stands, pulling you to your feet with him. “want me how?”
your eyes are wide and a little bit sad as you stare up at him. “i don’t know.”
then he cracks a tiny smile. “good,” he says, “i don’t either.
except he does.
he wants you every way, your presence, your time, your body, your fucking soul, all of it. but he doesn’t say that.
when you kiss him, he implodes, melts into your arms as if he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. but he says nothing of it.
the feeling of your wrist in his hand, the sound of your giddy giggles as he leads you to his bedroom—for now, that’s enough.
he takes it slow.
when he’s shut the door and ensured it’s locked, he turns to find you’ve already tossed your top on the floor.
a smile meets yours, gentle fingertips on your cheek, a soft whisper against your hair: “put it back on; i wanna do it myself.”
and you laugh and oblige, shivering at the now-familiar sensation of the warm metal bead on his tongue against your lip as his hand finds its way to your ass and squeezes gently.
“yūji,” you whisper.
“i like it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs into your shoulder, rubbing gently up and down your back underneath your shirt.
“hmm,” comes your contented response.
and then his fingers are rubbing gently against the hem of your shirt, easing it up to reveal your body inch by inch, and you shiver a little under his feather-light touch.
lifting your arms up, you allow him to slip your shirt back over your head, and then his hands are all over you again, squeezing your breasts through your bra and tracing lines up and down the center of your back. the little metal ball on his tongue presses against your lower lip. you tug at the hem of his hoodie, and he pulls it off.
the feeling of his skin on yours is nothing new now, and yet this time, there’s a certain nuance to it that he can’t place.
he wonders how you want him again; can’t stop wondering as you lead his hand down to the button on your jeans, laughing a little as he kneels at your feet to unzip them.
as he pulls them slowly down your legs he lines your thighs with little, butterfly-soft kisses, murmuring unintelligible praises.
when you’re left in only your bra and panties, he wraps his arms around your waist and falls backward onto the mattress, taking you down with him. you sit up a little, so that you’re straddling him, and he lets out a low sigh.
“you are fucking incredible,” he breathes as you suck gently at his neck, leaving light marks that will have faded by tomorrow.
your fingers trace the dips between his abs, tantalizingly, eventually making their way all the way down his stomach to the waistband of his sweats, and then a little further, palming his dick through them and feeling how fucking hard he is.
he groans a little, says, “please don’t tease me,” as you continue to do exactly that, but he doesn’t stop you.
when you shift a little so that you’re positioned right over him, soaking panties rubbing a tiny little wet spot into the tent of his erection, he sits up and gathers your body into his arms, lips and tongue moving against yours as one hand unclips your bra while the other settles itself on your hip, grinding you down against him. you press your thighs together at this feeling of pure need you’re experiencing and he pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eye.
“may i?” he whispers, and you smile and nod, laughing as he rolls you off of him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes and dig a condom out of his bedside table, which he hands to you.
you’re impatient as you tear it open but force yourself to roll it onto him slowly, studying his face as he revels in the feeling of your fingers grazing lightly against his dick.
once it’s on, he flips you over again, laughing, and exhales slowly as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere on the floor to be found later. his fingertips ghost gently down the sides of your thighs as he bends down to lick a long stripe between your legs and across your clit.
“fuck,” you breathe as he groans softly against your skin, the vibrations sending an electrifying buzz up your spine.
he presses his tongue flat against you, metal bar circling your clit teasingly, and then he pulls away and groans, “sit on my face,” his words hurried and slurred with lust.
so you let him move to lie on his back and straddle his face, giggling as he wraps his hands around your thighs to pull you closer.
“aw, don’t be shy, i thought that’s the whole point of this,” he says.
and then his mouth is back on you again, tongue flicking slowly and carefully, taking in your every response, and soon he’s got you shaking on top of him, grasping at the headboard and his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair.
he keeps going after you’ve already finished, making you writhe and whimper, only letting go of you once he’s satisfied.
he pushes you backward so that you’re still sitting with your knees on either side of him and he sits up, leaning back against the headboard. his lips are on yours, then, and he’s pulling your hips to his, the head of his cock nudging ever-so-lightly against your entrance.
“quit teasing me,” you whine when he grips your waist, refusing to let you sit yourself on his dick.
“i’m not.”
“yes you are!”
“‘m not,” he mumbles, smiling, as he draws his lips down the curve of your left shoulder and back up again. “i’m savoring the moment.”
you huff. “you can savor it with your cock in me.” and yūji does his best not to show it, but the high he gets from those words alone, from knowing how desperate you are for him, even if it’s just for his body, sends him straight to heaven. because regardless of how much of him you want, it’s still only him that you want in this moment, and right now that’s enough.
you allow him to move at his own pace, his movements slow, languid as he holds you to his chest, one hand around your waist and the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in your hair. he lets himself say the things he wants now.
“kiss me?” he whispers, and you oblige happily. you taste like him, and he’s so content he could lose his mind.
instead he loses himself to you, shaky breaths between “god, you’re so good,” and “you have no idea… how long i’ve waited… for you to want me like this.” there’s a single thing he holds back from saying, but he still plans on saying it. he’s just saving it for the right moment.
you’re drunk off of him, your body shuddering against him with every touch of his skin to yours, not knowing what to say and yet feeling as if you know everything you’ve ever needed to. and you say it for him.
“i love you.”
the words are barely there, just a breath against his lips as you kiss him, and it’s too much for him. he finishes with something akin to a sob, taking your face into his hands. “i love you,” he responds. and then, “say it again? please?”
you close your eyes and smile, leaning into him and brushing your lips against his. “i love you, yūji.”
his hand’s on the back of your head, then, pushing you back to his mouth, wanting you closer, wanting more. and you want more, too, fingers tracing lines down his back and arms and stomach, sending waves of light through his skin. this is it, he thinks as you press your body tight against his, this is all there is.
you are everything to him.
— SOMETHING ABT U I CAN’T QUIT
in each other’s arms later that evening, you feel yūji’s chest move slowly up and down with each inhale and exhale, contented in sharing this silent moment with you, and then you know. you know how you want him. you open your mouth to speak, and he does at the exact same time. the two of you share a laugh, just like you always have.
“you first,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him properly.
he reaches up and rests a hand flat against your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “i am…” the words are slow and quiet and purposeful. “i am so in love with you.”
your smile widens against his hand. “i want you. everything… about you, with you. i want it all.”
and he mirrors your grin, just like he always has. “i’m yours to take.” his eyes flit down to your lips, his thumb still pressed against them, afraid to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. his face flushes pink; it’s adorable. “say you’re mine, too?” it’s a request, a plea—not a command.
you reach up to your face and place your hand over his. “all yours,” you say. “don’t even have to ask.”
it’s silent for a bit again, and then he sits up, going a little more serious.
“what?”
“what happens if this doesn’t last?”
you sit up, too, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling his head to rest against yours. “after all these years?”
“hmm.”
you think for a moment: after all these years. your whole lives, spent together, maybe not as lovers but always as two halves of a whole. it’s him you always gossip to first, whom you always went to after heartbreaks and fights with your parents. he’s the first one you told when you lost your virginity, crashed your car, got into one of your top universities. he’s held your hand through everything.
so finally you say, “i don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
he pulls away to look you in the eye. “why not?”
his nose brushes against yours as you lean your forehead against his and laugh a little. “are you dumb, yūji?”
“i don’t think so?” when you say nothing, just continuing to look at him with that shit-eating grin on your face, he goes, “am i missing something?”
you press your lips to his for a second and pull away, still smiling at him. “it’s us, yūji. always has been.”
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