#once again i apologize for how long it takes me to reply to asks

[gauloiseblue]

Every Day, You'll Hear Me Say

(Kyle Garrick × Reader)

[Fluff | No Warnings Apply]

On the day of their marriage, when the newlyweds were asked about how they met, their stories would be touching. Some loves bloomed at the first sight, some had existed long before they even realized it.

Yours, however, began with a comedic story.

It was early in the morning on Thursday, just one day after you moved to the new place. You were exhausted from all the cleaning and moving boxes, and you'd sleep the whole day if not for your growling belly. You couldn't possibly go too far, so you settle with the sandwich bar near your apartment.

You didn't pay that much attention to your surroundings, moreover to the other customer beside you. So when you heard your name being called, you grabbed the order without looking. It's not until you took a bite that you noticed the mistake.

"I didn't order this." You told the staff, and she furrowed her brows.

"You're Reese, right?"

You nodded.

She looked just as confused as you, before the other staff came and flusteredly explained the situation.

"I'm sorry, we got your order mixed up with the man here. His name is also Reese."

You turned your head to the side, and saw the man she referred to. There was a trace of surprise in his face, but it's been replaced with amusement, for an obvious reason.

You felt your face heated up, as you covered your mouth.

"Oh my God." You stuttered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's alright, you look starving." He chuckled, before he reassured the staff when they apologized.

"Let me buy you a new one."

"No, it's really ok." He smiled, "My treat."

You tried to pay him back, but you ended up with two sandwiches. And one drink.

At the table, you apologized to him once again, but he shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it, it's just a small thing." He told you, "You should worry about yourself, you look like you could faint at any time."

You rubbed your neck as you looked away, "I haven't slept since I moved here, so…"

"No wonder you look unfamiliar." He said, "So, your name's Reese?"

"No, that's my Starbucks name." You sheepishly smiled, "I assume yours is Reese?"

"No." He softly laughed, "It's also my Starbucks name."

"Really?" You said in surprise, "It's not Reese?"

He shook his head. "Why? Does the name suit me?"

"Kind of." You replied, "You look rather sweet."

You slapped your hand on your mouth as you realized what you just said.

"No, I mean—it’s not like that—I didn't mean it that way or whatever—" You groaned, "This is embarrassing."

"That's alright, I used that name for that reason.” He said, “My friend once did an experiment by asking strangers if I looked like Reese or my real name, and most of them answered Reese." He grinned as he quipped, "One of them even told me that he wanted to “eat me up” because I reminded him of Reese's."

"What," Your eyes widened at his story, before you burst into laughter, "Wait, did someone really say that?"

"Why would I lie?" He smirked as he took a sip of his drink, "What about you? Why did you use that name?"

You scratched your cheek, "It's for a boring reason, really."

"Tell me anyway."

Just like that, your story began with a simple talk.

You'd laugh whenever it’s being retold—either by you or by him. Because your version was different from his, and both of them were amusing. For you, it was an embarrassing day. But for him, it was the best day of his life. You’d kick him under the table for saying such cheesy things, yet a wide grin would betray you as you scold him.

Of course, it’s not the only story worth telling, since it’s just the beginning.

The next story is much less interesting, but memorable still.

On a particular morning, you bumped into him in the hallway. He's in his sportswear, with sweats still forming on his forehead. He had a thin hoodie on him, and kept his hands inside the pocket. You wouldn't look at him twice if the bump in his pouch wasn't bean shaped.

It didn't take long before his pocket whined, which, that itself was impossible. Unless something else was inside that pouch.

"I, uh—I have to go." He quickly fumbled, "See ya around."

"Wait—"

Before you could stop him, he already disappeared behind his door. Leaving you in the hallway, dumbfounded.

Though it didn't take long for you to figure out what it was. Since the smuggled item was quite vocal.

A few days later, as you took a shower, you heard a high-pitched howl from next-door. Along with the lecture from your neighbor.

"I wouldn't do this if you didn't roll in the dirt, Lou."

A loud protest soon followed, as well as a splash.

"Alright." You could hear him sigh, "I'll give you a treat after this, yeah? How's that sound?"

From that moment, the fuss slowly died down, as gentle coos replaced the argument.

"Good girl."

You quietly chuckled, as you washed off the remaining bubbles. While you reached out to grab the towel, the thought of treats came up to your mind.

Maybe the pup would love blueberries.

The next day, when you made your way to your door, you slipped a bag onto his door handle, with a sticky note attached to it.

You could remember exactly what was written in it, but you received the reply not long after. "Thank you for the gift." He told you, as you both retrieved letters from the mailbox, "She likes it very much."

You raised a brow at him, before you caught the context.

"Oh." You muttered out before you smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

You both stared at each other, and would continue to do so if he didn't chance it.

"Do you want to meet her?"

The question rolled out with a slight tremble, as if he's both eager and hesitant about it. You studied him for a moment, before deciding on the answer.

"Yes," You said, "If you don't mind."

Which seemed to hit the mark, since his doubts were quick to disappear.

You couldn't get why he was unsure at the beginning, but you later found out that pets weren't allowed in the buildings.

The little pup is a mixed breed, with dark eyes and 4-colored furs. She wagged her tail when she saw you, and he had to scooped her up to quiet her down.

As you both settled back, he told you the story of how he found her, while you played with the pup.

“When I saw her on the side of the road, I knew something was off. She was too young to be left alone, and even if she was left unattended, she wouldn’t have strayed too far from the rest.” He said as he scratched her ear, “My only guess is that she’s left there by her previous owner, for whatever reason.”

“That’s so cruel.” You frowned, “Why couldn’t they put her into adoption or something?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “But I suspected she came from an illegal farm, which means she had no birth certificate.” He explained, “Most adoption centers won't accept dogs from unknown sources, and sending them to the shelter would be a lot of work, since you’d have to write the admissions.”

“So they just threw her away?”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t think about it too much. It already happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change it.” He chuckled when she started nibbling his thumb, “Besides, it’s more important for me to give her home. That’s the least I can do for her.”

You looked at him as you quietly observed how he stroked her cheek. If he’s the one who cared for her, then there's no doubt she’s found her home.

There’s a saying that a simple gesture could mirror someone’s heart, and it’s not hard to see when it comes to him. At that time, you couldn’t explain why you had the urge to help him, all you knew was you wanted to. At least for Lou.

Negotiating wasn’t your forte, but after many bribes and sweet talks, you managed to convince the landlord to allow him to keep the pup. You arrived at his door right after you got the written permission, in which you showed him with a proud grin.

“You don’t have to play hide and seek anymore.” You told him, “You have the permit.”

He read the letter carefully, before he turned to you, wide-eyed.

“How did you get this?”

“Pure luck, I guess.” You scratched your cheek.

“Come on, you expect me to believe it?” He chuckled, “How am I gonna repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to.” You added when he’s about to protest, “Think of it as my way to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s too much.” He muttered, “Let me buy you dinner.”

The automatic response that you thought was to refuse him, but something stopped you from doing it. You stared at him in silence, with your mind running miles an hour.

“Please?”

It’s still curious how a single word could slap some sense into you. Because at that very moment, you understood your own feelings.

Oh, You thought. That’s why.

Without further knock-back, you accepted his offer.

The details of what happened during that night are fuzzy in your memory, since your head was swarmed with the thought of him. But you remember walking into your room, with a slip of paper and a loud heartbeat on your hand.

It wasn't hard to see how you'd struggle with a simple message that night. But it all paid off the moment his reply popped out.

Since that day, texting him would be a part of your routine. Whether it's a long conversation, or simply a good morning. Sometimes he asked you to keep him company on the evening walk, sometimes he asked you whether you're up for dinner. On weekends, you'd join him in the park—where Lou could run freely. He'd bring the sandwiches from the bistro, and you'd giggle when you read the name 'Reese' on the wrap.

Months would pass, and all the moments you shared would come to a pause.

It was 9:34 PM when you heard a knock on your door. You smiled as you thought of the suspect, and while you got it right, the mood that's reflected on his face was far from what you expected.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

It took a moment for him before he uttered a few words.

"I need your help."

It was a simple request, take care of Lou, but the way he said it was dreadful. As if he'd be gone for long.

"I can't take her to the dog care because I have to leave now. You can drop her off tomorrow, but please, keep her for tonight." He told you, "Here's my spare key, you can find whatever you need for Lou. I've put the money on the table, you can use it for her daycare."

"Where are you going?" You frowned, "When will you be back?"

"Airport." He looked away, "Got a call from my boss, saying it's urgent. I don't know when I'll be back, it can take a month or so." He shook his head, "If I don't come back… No, forget it. I'll leave it to you."

That night, you could only watch him as the elevator door slowly closed. Despite the haste in his steps, his face didn't mirror the same eagerness.

When you entered his place, you found Lou on the tousled cover. She curled up by the empty space, where the owner was supposed to be. For a moment, you thought of moving her to your room. But you decided against it.

You spent the night on the couch, reading the message he left on the table. He had given you an address to the pet care, along with the money he mentioned. It's still puzzling how he could entrust everything to you—so easily, that you could take it for granted.

You turned your head to the bedroom, where the pup slept soundly on his bed. She had no clue that he had left, and you doubted that she's prepared for it. And if you took her to the care, would she understand it? Would she know that it's only for temporary?

With your fist tightened, you chose to let her stay.

It's not for a noble reason, rather, you couldn't bring yourself to leave her in an unfamiliar place. You scolded yourself for being sentimental, but you’ve been with her long enough that you’ve grown fond of her. One month shouldn’t be long, you could handle it just fine.

And it’s true. One month wouldn’t be a problem for you. Alas, he didn’t come back on the supposed day. The marked number on your calendar had been crossed, and still, no news from him. The messages you wrote were sent, but never received. You’d stare at his profile, as you read the word ‘OFF’ on the status.

Each day, you worry would grow as you glanced at the date. What if something had happened to him? And if he doesn't come back, what would become of Lou?

As you turned your calendar page, you felt the apprehension when you saw the month. Twelve more days, and it’d be exactly three months after he left.

The pup sensed it too, as she whined whenever she passed his door. You tried to overlook her cry, until you couldn’t. You retrieved the spare key from your safe, and headed over to his place.

The room was still the same as you left before, though it felt a little bit colder. You brought the pup down and closed the door behind.

Lou dashed to his room with a wagged tail, as she followed the lingering scent of him. You followed her behind, and stopped on your track the moment you saw her pawing at his wardrobe.

“You shouldn’t open that, Lou.” You stated as you lifted her up, “It’s impolite.”

She writhed around in your hold, before letting out a low whine.

“I know.” You murmured, “I miss him too.”

You plumped down on the sofa, before you rested your head on the arm pillow. The scent of him still lingered on the fabric, and you curled up against it. Lou snuggled closer to you, as she slipped under your arm. You smiled when she began to yawn, you glanced at the clock and caught the arms in the shape of a tilted V.

It’s almost midnight, and you should’ve gone back to your room. But something tempted you to stay, lulling you to rest. To close your eyes, even for a moment. Like clockwork, you slipped into nothingness when you gave in.

At this point, with all the past tense that you’ve used, it shouldn’t be a surprise when the story will come to an end. As cliché as it might sound, he really did come back that night. Although much later, near the dawn.

When you rose up from your sleep, you felt the weight on your body that wasn’t present before. You tried to shift away from it, but it seemed to be on top of you. When you peeked through your lashes, a mass of grey came into your view.

You leaped from the couch as you recognized the cover. It was a blanket, and you’re one-hundred percent sure that you last saw it in his bedroom.

“Good morning.”

Until now, nothing could beat the speed of your stare as you snapped your head towards him.

He was standing by the table in comfortable sweats, with Lou nestled in his arms. There were plates on the table, and you were hit by the delectable smell of food.

“Are you hungry?” He put a metal plate down, before lowering her to the ground.

Still dazed, you ended up answering with another question. “When—” You gulped, “Since when did you come back?”

He turned to the clock, then back to you, “2 hours ago.”

“Oh.” you rubbed your face, and brushed your hair to the back. “Um, sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He offered you a glass of water, and you took it while you murmured a small thanks.

“You didn’t take her to the pet care.”

You lowered the glass after a few gulps. “Um.” You scratched your neck, “I felt bad leaving her by herself, so I took her with me. Besides, you didn’t tell me how long you’d be away.” You muttered the last part.

He chuckled when he caught it. “I’m sorry, I should’ve informed you beforehand.”

The two of you exchanged a look, which you couldn’t look away from. The heat started to rise, as it painted your cheeks in red. There’s something between you and him, something vague but palpable at the same time—

“Thank you.”

You blinked, as the thick air dissipated from you.

“For taking care of her.” He added, “I owe you one."

At that time, you didn't quite catch the underlying meaning of his words. Only years after that—as you laid beside him, with a new ring on your finger—you finally found the answer.

"You told me that the day you realized you like me was the day I gave you my number." He started, as he stroked your cheek tenderly, "And when you asked me the same question, I said I've loved you ever since you took my sandwich. But I only realized it the moment I came home to you sleeping. I was beyond exhausted that day, both physical and mentally. I thought I'd collapse when I came back, but as I walked through the door, all my tiredness just disappeared. In my mind, I was expecting to see an empty home. So you can imagine how surprised I was when I saw you there.

"You might not know it, but your presence means so much to me. I wasn't brave enough to say thank you, for being there for me, so I said whatever's appropriate at that time. But in my heart I knew; you're the one I'm gonna marry."

[lowkeychenle]

the hardest part [ZCL] (M) fic teaser

Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)

Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)

Release Date: 6.5.2024

Expected Word Count: 15-20k (maybe less?)

Teaser Word Count: 796

Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you'd like to be added.

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.

You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.

You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.

“You’re still up?”

“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”

You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”

“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”

“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”

“Family business money.”

“You work. You earned it.”

“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”

“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.

“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.

He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”

Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”

“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”

“It was for Jay.”

“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.

“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”

“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”

You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.

“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.

“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.

Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.

His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.

The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.

His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.

Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.

[subsystems]

hope sending ask is ok rn, i have hard time looking resource. looking for book how to co-exist with independent dissociative parts (have system but not feel safe in saying DID yet). cannot do therapist addressing parts yet but want to cope in daily life. hope can help. or others comment/reblog and give. thank you 🍀

This ask was sent a while ago, I hope you're doing okay now anon. You say you can't talk to a therapist yet but I hope you have someone else in your life who is supportive and you can talk to about these things! You shouldn't have to face this alone.

Even though you don't have therapeutic support, it's still possible to build up communication and cooperation with your parts. I reblog a lot of tips and resources to my coping tag if you want to check that out. Here are some other resources that you might find helpful:

DID/OSDD Self-help Masterlist There are so many resources here, categorized by different topics. You'll find stuff here for both survivors and loved ones, and you don't need to have DID/OSDD to use them!

Beauty After Bruises Blog You'll find so many articles here on coping with daily life as a dissociative survivor. I love how they're written, they feel very approachable and almost calming to read.

Dissociative Living Admittedly, I haven't read many of these articles but the few I've seen have been good. I think their writing is very approachable for people who are new to all of this.

DIS-SOS Lots of advice and informative articles on living with DID here -- in both English and German! I've found some really interesting and unique coping tips here, I definitely recommend it. It's actually because of this blog that I discovered one of my favorite methods of system communication.

CTAD Clinic Youtube Channel A channel run by the director of this clinic which specializes in dissociation and trauma. I've watched probably all of his videos -- they're very good! Lots of the videos provide tools and self-help tips on coping with dissociation & dissociative parts!

Carolyn Spring's Blog You'll find amazing articles here about trauma and dissociation, but do be aware that the author is both a professional and a survivor with DID herself. She isn't afraid to talk about her lived experience, shining a light on the reality of trauma and dissociation which can be confronting but oh-so empowering to read.

System Speak Podcast A podcast run by a DID system. She talks about her own healing journey as well as interviews professionals and dives into the psychology behind trauma and dissociation. Personally, I think the website is a bit hard to navigate but every podcast I've listened to has been extremely informative and relatable!

Self-help books can also be extremely useful if you don't have access to a therapist. You can find a bunch of free downloads here! I would recommend starting with "Got Parts? An Insider's Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder" by ATW. Personally, I think this is the best book to start with. It's a bit old and there are some outdated ideas in it, but I think it's a very gentle entry into learning system communication and coping with DID if you have never worked with a therapist.

Some other resources that might be useful:

Strategies for coping with distressing voices

FREE 100 page e-book for trauma survivors

Talk/vent to listeners on this non-crisis support chat line

Apply for a grant to receive financial help or a therapy box -> (Also learn about the Therapy Box Project! If anyone is able to donate, please do!)

- Sunflower

[jobean12-blog]

Claimed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)-Bookshop setting

Word Count: 3,513

Summary: Bucky has had his eyes on you for a long time and when he finally makes a move to claim you he's delighted at how easily you fall into his waiting arms.

Author's Note: Seb's new looks have just been so yummy, especially him in a bow tie. I LOVE! The look in the pic below is the end result of the story🫠It isn't really focused too much on his mob status but it's there and I couldn't resist a little bookshop AU in there too! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, tension, Bucky is pretty forward/dom and doesn't mince words- he goes for what he wants-light d-irty talk, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), but he's sweet too :)

Your steps are slow and easy as you stroll through the aisle, perusing the titles and letting your fingers delicately slide across the bindings.

When you find one of interest you pull it from the shelf and before you read even one word you press the aged pages to your nose and inhale deeply.

The sound of a light chuckle pulls you from your aromatic reverie and you look up with a start, catching a man watching you with a lopsided smirk.

He nods a hello before disappearing down the next aisle. You stare at the space he just vacated and feel your skin heat.

Was he really that handsome or are you still recovering from the exquisite smell of the pages of the book? Only one way to find out.

With quiet movements you slip past the end of the fiction section and turn the corner, peeking around the next bookshelf. All you see is a young woman searching through the books.

Denying your disappointment you continue down the aisle but slow when you feel the weight of eyes at your back. Instead of turning around and looking too obvious you quickly glance over your shoulder and see the mystery man once again watching you.

He looks even more handsome than he did two minutes ago.

You almost walk into the woman who’s browsing and give her a startled apology before rushing off to hide in the rare book section.

Letting out a rush of breath you clutch a book to your chest and refocus on your surroundings.

“This is my favorite section.”

You spin on a gasp and blink.

“Excuse me?” you say quietly.

“This section,” he says again, “it’s my favorite. I love old books.”

“Oh,” you answer, backing away as he steps closer.

He stops advancing and looks at the shelf, studying the bindings until he finds one that interests him.

“Mine too,” you concede softly. “And they smell amazing.”

“As good as the books in the fiction section?” he asks, eyes dancing with amusement.

You let out a light huff of laughter, feeling warm embarrassment creep over your skin.

“Better,” you finally answer.

“I’d have to agree with you there,” he says before lifting the book he holds to his face and inhaling.

You can’t stop your small intake of air as you watch him savor the smell of the pages.

“So, do you come here often?” he asks, casting his gaze down to the words.

You let his question hang in the air as you take a moment to really look him over. His soft sweater does nothing to hide his broad shoulders and powerful build and his dark hair and beard frame a beautifully sculpted jaw.

Then he lifts his eyes, directing his steady gaze on you, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Um…I do. It’s my favorite book store. I can’t afford any of these books,” you say as you motion to the titles nearby, “but no one seems to mind that I come and spend the afternoon reading them.”

“I don’t see why anyone would,” he replies.

He places the book back on the shelf and slides his hands into his pants pockets, attempting another step closer.

This time you don’t move away and he smiles.

“I have quite the collection myself,” he informs you. “You should come see it.”

“Are you a collector?” you ask.

“Something like that doll.”

You school your features at the sound of the endearment falling from his perfect lips and smile.

He extends his hand.

“James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

“Hi Bucky.”

You give him your name and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and lightly brushing his lips across your knuckles before kissing them.

As you stare at him through your lashes his lips linger and he seems unwilling to let go of your hand.

“I mean it you know. You’re welcome to come see my collection…anytime.”

He slowly releases your hand with a wink then turns on his heel toward the doorway.

“But…,” you start, not even sure why you’re calling after him to ask your next question, “how will I find you?”

He turns to face you, his eyes set with determination, and says, “don’t worry doll face. We’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

With those parting words he vanishes into the maze of books, leaving you caught between feeling frazzled and turned on.

After several days of warm sunshine it finally ends in a wash of chilly rain and wind. But you’re warm and cozy in the back of the bookshop, curled up on one of the old leather chairs by the window, reading by the soft light of an antique tiffany lamp.

You’re so engrossed in your book that it takes you several minutes to recognize the familiar feeling of his stare and when you look up you find Bucky leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his arms crossed, watching you.

He looks just as good as he did the last time you saw him and you realize you’re staring back.

“Hey,” you whisper, clearing your throat.

“You must really be enjoying that book,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I am. Have you read it?”

“Not this one,” he says as he steps closer and reads the title.

His nearness draws all of your attention from the book and for the first time you take notice of the small patches of gray hair that line his beard.

“It’s worth a read,” you tell him when your eyes meet his again.

“I’ll definitely check it out doll. I’m currently reading the first edition of ‘The Canterbury Tales’ by Geo…”

“Geoffery Chaucer,” you finish in a rushed breath. “Oh my god. You have a first edition!?”

Your eyes go wide with shock as you silently contemplate how much money that must have cost him.

“But…but…”

“I told you doll face, the old and rare books are my favorite.”

“I haven’t read that one yet but it’s on my list.”

“Well you’re welcome to my copy when I’m done,” he says, smiling widely when your mouth opens in shock. “But I have to warn you that when it comes to such treasures I’m a slow reader. There are some things I like to take my time with.”

As the last sentence leaves his mouth he unabashedly lets his eyes sweep over you. When your head dips to your book under his obvious perusal he presses his fingers under your chin to lift your gaze.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“A coffee?” you repeat, all rational thought leaving your brain at the feel of his touch.

“They just put a fresh pot on up front.”

“Oh, right. That would be great thank you, let me just get my wallet.”

“No doll. I’ll pay.”

“Well, I don’t mind at all…”

“And I do,” he says definitively. “I offered and I’ll pay.”

“Thanks,” you whisper.

When he returns with two steaming cups of coffee you sigh in contentment.

“Are you always this much of a gentleman to the women you meet in bookshops?”

You ask the question with a playful smile but when his expression doesn’t match yours you instantly regret opening your mouth, your smile wavering.

“Despite my offering, I’m having a very difficult time remembering to be a gentleman around you doll.”

“Well maybe I shouldn’t be accepting this coffee then.”

Even though your voice is little more than a whisper you make no move to give him back the drink and instead you lean in closer.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he murmurs.

Your breathing accelerates before you take a slow sip of the coffee.

“And maybe I like the coffee too much to give it back.”

“I just warned you that I’m having a difficult time being a gentleman. Are you provoking me doll?”

Your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips, the taste of coffee still lingering. “Is that what I’m doing?”

His eyes track the movement and he rubs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, looking pleased when you inhale sharply but don’t pull away.

“Let me be clear here doll, since it seems like you enjoy playing this little game with me. I want you underneath me in my bed. I want to be buried so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for days. And I want to mark you so every other man who walks this Earth knows you’re mine.”

Your eyes widen with every word he utters and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin when he tilts his head and moves closer until his warm breath fans your cheek.

“I just want to be up-front with you. Enjoy the coffee.”

He forces himself away, removing his hand and stepping back. And once again leaves with nothing more that the sound of his retreating footsteps.

Life keeps you busy for the next two days but Bucky’s words are ever present, practically burned into your skin. So when you step back into the bookshop on Saturday evening you take solace in the familiar smells and sounds.

You wave hello to the barista and cashier, noticing their slight mischievous smiles as you pass by. You’re about to ask them what’s going on but then you see him and you know. Even among the shelves of beautiful books and warm lighting he stands out, his eyes boring into you.

The way he stands exudes a quiet confidence and a slow roll of heat eases it’s way through you when his unwavering stare moves over every inch of you.

Lifting your chin you hold his gaze and take your time getting your own eyeful. His button-down shirt is fitted just right with the top buttons open to reveal a gold chain and his long legs are clad in dark jeans.

He looks dangerous and sexy. And pissed.

You move toward him undeterred until you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

“Are you here to give me more warnings?” you ask.

He keeps his gaze locked on you and licks his lips.

“No. I think I was perfectly clear the first-time doll.”

“Is something bothering you, Bucky?”

“Where have you been?”

You would laugh at his nonresponse if your irritation weren’t growing hotter by the second.

“I’ve been busy. You know…work, errands…life.”

“I’ve missed you.”

You’re taken aback by his blunt and unexpected answer and can’t find the words to respond.

“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again after what I said.”

You think back on his words for only the millionth time since he said them. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine at the memory.

“Did you get me a coffee today?”

His eyes light up in victory before he reaches behind him and hands you a cup, the drink prepared just how you like it.

For the next couple of hours the two of you browse the bookshop, spending the majority of your time in the rare section pouring over the titles in excitement and awe. You ask about his work and how he gathered his collection of rare books. He’s vague but polite with his answers, focusing most of his attention on you.

While you do most of the talking Bucky listens contentedly and intently, his constant regard slowly building and burning a hole through your enthused focus.

After a bit, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else but him and you start to become more aware of how your body shifts closer to his, shoulders pressed together, heads close and your hand reaching out to graze his bicep.

Finally, the bookshop employees begin to let customers know they are going to close. You reluctantly put your current read back on the shelf and turn to Bucky.

“Guess it’s time to go,” you say quietly.

“I’ll drive you home doll.”

“No, no. That’s ok. I can take the train.”

“I insist,” he answers, stepping into your space and crowding you against the shelf.

“Ok,” you breathe out. “Thanks.”

His eyes drop to your lips and his hands hover at your waist, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of your shirt when the barista comes by and ushers you out.

With a release of breath you skirt past Bucky and grab your bag, heading for the exit.

Wordlessly, he holds the door of his car open for you, allowing you minimal space to edge by him into the passenger seat.

He breaks the silence with the same question floating around in your own head.

“Am I taking to you home or are you coming to my place to see my collection of books.”

“It’s late but…”

“But?”

“I would love to see them.”

“But you’re still thinking about what I said the other day, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

When you don’t say anything more or give him your address he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. You contemplate your sanity the whole ride there but you’re too far gone to even want to tell him to turn around and bring you home.

His brownstone is gorgeous. Everything from the ornate edifice of the building to the classic tile in foyer exudes luxury and when you step inside the actual space you have to cover your mouth to stop any sound from escaping.

“I’m glad you like it doll,” he says from behind you, his chest brushing your back.

His lips meet the shell of your ear in a whisper. “I can give you a tour if you like or I can give you what you really want first.”

You turn to face him, his gravelly tone bringing several other things into focus. His cheeks are lightly flushed and his breathing has roughened. You sway closer and he runs his finger along your arm.

“The books…?” you question weakly.

“They’re not going anywhere,” he assures you as his fingertips trace your jaw.

“You don’t even have my phone number,” you continue. “We haven’t even been on a date yet!”

He starts to walk, pushing you slowly backward until you enter another room. Without taking his eyes off you he flicks a switch on the wall and the space is bathed in a soft glow, illuminating the ceiling high shelves of dark wood that line every wall. Every space is filled with books.

Your eyes wander for mere seconds before he grabs your chin and directs your gaze back to his.

“I think our bookshop encounters can be considered dates, don’t you?” he says softly.

Just before your back hits one of the shelves his large hand cradles your body, gently pressing you into the books. He leans closer, moving his hands to rest on either side of your head.

“Maybe���”

“Do you ever have an answer other than ‘maybe’?” he asks.

Your lips part to speak but he stops you with the brush of his mouth. “Don’t. Say. Maybe.”

Even though your last two meetings were charged with tension, this is the first time he’s really touching you and it sends shock waves through your entire body.

You breathe out a strangled ‘yes’ and arch into him, inviting more of his touch.

His mouth comes down on yours hard and hungry and the initial contact steals your breath. When you slide your hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, he groans and pushes you against the shelf.

You break contact with his mouth, gasping at the hardness pressing against your stomach.

“I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you,” he growls. “Do you know what that’s been like?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his mouth moves to your neck and sucks the sensitive spot underneath your ear, causing you to whimper his name.

Your head rolls to the side, begging for more and you let out a sound of frustration when he rocks his hips and keeps his mouth hovering along your skin.

“Is this what you want?” he murmurs with another grind of his hips.

Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through the soft strands as your breath catches on a gasp.

“Answer me, doll,” he demands.

“Yes. Yes Bucky. I want it.”

His hands leave your body and grip the edge of the shelf behind you. He dips his head, trailing kisses upward along your neck until he meets your earlobe, growling low.

“You’re going to spread these pretty legs for me doll and I’m going to bury my face between them.”

His tone warns you not to protest and with a strangled breath you do as you’re told, your head thumping back against the books when he slides his hand down your stomach.

“Eyes on me doll.”

You look down as he slips his hand inside your leggings, slowly peeling them, along with your panties down to your ankles.

He finds your swollen clit and circles it with teasing strokes, giving you one last hard look before his tongue flattens and he tastes you from top to bottom.

You’re already so close and when he pushes a finger inside you your eyes start to glaze over, your hips rocking rhythmically onto his hand and face.

When he pushes a second finger inside you it sends you over the edge, his tongue working you until your legs are shaking and you’re chanting his name.

“Fuck doll. You coming apart for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You start to slump forward, your breathing still ragged and he runs a soft hand along your hip, holding you steady and biting gently into your skin with his fingers.

“I’m going to make you come over and over again,” he whispers as he stands and takes you in his arms, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

“Yes. Please,” you whimper.

He presses closer, his lips teasing along your jaw until your eyes meet. “But first we’re going to have a proper date.”

Your lips part with your objection and you’re ready to beg him for more but he presses a finger to your lips, smiling when you instantly quiet.

“If I get inside you now I’ll never be able to leave and I don’t have enough time tonight to worship you. I have business to deal with.”

 Your eyes drop to his mouth and your fingers climb up his chest.

“Ok,” you say, still breathless.

“You’re going to be my date for an auction event I have to attend tomorrow night…and then afterwards we’ll have the rest of the night. And the next morning…all day. You’ll be all mine.”

You nod, unable to find your voice again but squirm against him in desperation, your body still craving more.

“Sweet fucking hell, doll,” he hisses. “Don’t make me rush this.”

He grabs your waist so you stop moving, his eyes wandering over your face before he captures your lips in a kiss.

When he releases your mouth the set of his jaw is rigid and his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “Be ready by five.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the tenth time. Before leaving Bucky’s apartment you had exchanged numbers and several more kisses then he walked you to your door, wasting no time reminding you of his promises for tonight.

Your pulse quickens as his words threaten to consume you and you wonder how you’ll ever make it through the next few hours without throwing yourself at him. His touch was like nothing else you’d experienced. Not one of his movements were wasted and his objective was clear. He was going to absolutely ruin you. And you were ready.

The light knock on your door startles you but you check the clock and see he’s right on time.

“You’re punctual,” you say as you open the door.

He looks amazing and have to bite your lip to stop your satisfied moan.

“And you’re fucking stunning,” he says as his eyes rake over every inch of you.

He continues staring and steps inside.

“Do you plan on looking at me like that all night?” you ask.

“Like what?” he replies as he reaches out for you.

“Like you need to devour me.”

“It’s all I want,” he growls, sliding his hand along the curve of your back to bring you closer.

“Do we really need to go to this auction?” you purr against his lips.

His fingers splay against your back and he brushes his nose to yours. “I do doll face, but if you need my hand between your legs first, all you have to do is ask me.”

Before you can form the words for a weak protest, his hand dips between your bodies and starts to lift the hem of your dress.

“Say it doll. I want to hear you say the words."

“Please Bucky,” you gasp. “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”

 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @goldylions @kmc1989

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny II

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny II - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: none

a/n: sorry for the long wait with this one! Hope you guys like it!

Part I

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You slipped into the private library in the House of Wind, humming slightly to yourself. The faint scent of crackling embers and something else indiscernible met your nose as the door slammed shut behind you but you brushed it off, figuring it must've come from the fireplace on the other side of the large room. 

You meandered to the section that was filled with romance books—the ones Nesta had made sure to stock up on ever since she became the owner of this place along with Cassian. You brushed your fingers against the spines of the books, pulling out some that had interesting titles and stacking them in your arms. 

A Heart Ablaze.

The Prince of Fire.

Your skirt flitted against the tops of your boots as you walked. You bit your lip, pulling out another book. This one titled, The Flames that Bind Us. You’d read it before but it was one of your favorites. 

“You should be a bit more aware of your surroundings, bunny. You have no idea what sort of monsters are lurking around.”

You gasped, jumping in fright and dropping your stack of books to place a hand on your chest. You whirled around with a wildly beating heart. 

You had recognized the voice immediately but you were still taken aback to see Eris lounging in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He was sprawled out in the chair like it was his throne, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other lightly stroking the soft velvet of the armrest. His red hair gleamed the same color as the burning flames behind him. 

Your gaze dipped to his chest, to his cream colored tunic that had a few buttons undone, exposing the silver layered jewelry resting against his chest. He wore dark brown breeches, perfectly tailored for his long legs and brown riding boots. How he managed to make such casual clothing look elegant and refined was beyond you. 

When you met his eyes again, those devastating amber eyes, Eris gave you a fox-like grin that looked anything but friendly. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you bent down to pick up the books you had dropped. You held them against your chest like a shield. 

“That is no way to address a Lord,” Eris purred. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Apologies, my Lord,” you replied, sarcastically. “What a delight it is to see you again. What brings you to our humble court?”

Eris’s eyebrows rose in amusement. 

“If you must know, I’m here for a meeting with your High Lord and Lady,” Eris said. “Pray tell, what are you doing here, bunny?” 

His eyes darted to the books in your arms and you blushed, trying to discreetly cover the titles. Eris didn’t need to know your reading preferences. 

“If you must know,” you said, mocking him, “I live here.” 

You split time between here and the River House. Mostly because Nesta had once accused you of favoring Feyre. You hated nothing more than to be used as a pawn against your sisters. But being the youngest, your role in the family oftentimes required you playing mediator between your siblings. Sometimes, messenger too. 

“Poor little bunny,” Eris teased. “Locked up here in a cage.” 

“Stop calling me that!”

You glared at the handsome Lord, hating the way that made him seem even more amused. 

Eris said nothing, just twirled the glass in his hands as his eyes assessed you. You felt the hairs on your arms stand up, felt a chill run down your spine at his look. His smirk never left his face. You were quite sure he had been born wearing it. 

“Don’t you normally meet with Rhys and Feyre in Hewn City?” you asked, unable to take the silence. You should probably leave, but something kept your feet glued to the floor. 

Eris shrugged. “Sure, when our business involves Keir.” 

He spat out the older male’s name with disgust. 

“I’m surprised they didn’t order you to stay in your room knowing I was here,” he continued, his amusement back once more. “Can’t let the little bunny be ensnared by a fox again.”

His grin was more of a display of teeth. It did nothing to quell your nerves. 

“They never tell me anything,” you murmured, annoyed.

Your lips slammed shut when one of Eris’s eyebrows raised, like you had just unknowingly passed along information you shouldn’t have. 

The doors to the library slammed open and you jumped, sucking in a breath at the sudden noise. Azriel stormed in, his eyes narrowed at Eris. You suddenly felt tense, sensing the way the energy seemed to shift in the room. He stopped once he was in front of you, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed at the redhead. “You’re supposed to be waiting for Rhys and Feyre in the war room.” 

Eris didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, unlike most fae did when staring down the shadowsinger.

He plucked a piece of lint from his tunic, unbothered. “Apologies, shadowsinger. I got lost.” 

You doubted that and by Azriel’s growl, you realized he did too. He turned to look down at you, his lips pressed in a straight line with a stern look. 

“Go,” Azriel barked, nodding his head towards the door. You bristled at the command, as if you were a dog he could order around.

But it was Eris who stood to his full height and snarled, “Don’t speak to her like that.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise. You stepped out from around Azriel to see Eris staring down the shadowsinger. You swore the flames in the fireplace grew, the crackling of the wood the only thing breaking the tense silence. 

You shifted on your feet, clearing your throat as the temperature rose—Azriel’s shadows growing with it. You placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

“I’ll leave,” you said softly, glancing up at Eris but his focus was on your hand touching Azriel, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“It was lovely speaking to you again, my Lord,” you said, sarcastically, bowing your head at Eris. At the sound of your voice, you watched as Eris’s mask slipped right back into place, all the tension leaving his body. 

His gaze met yours and he shot you his infamous fox-like grin. “Indeed, Lady.” 

Azriel growled, lowly, and that was your sign to leave. You scurried out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach—the ones that had been there since the moment you laid eyes on the handsome Lord of Fire.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

It had taken a lot of persuasion on your part, but you had finally talked Rhys and Feyre into letting you have more of a role in their court. They had decided to let you shadow Lucien as an emissary, but so far the only place you had gone with him to was the human realm—not that you minded.

You were currently in the deserted manor that Vassa, Jurian and Lucien were now living in since the end of the war. You had just had a meeting and dinner with them, but out of politeness, had offered to clean up which left you in the kitchen alone, scrubbing dishes. You supposed you could’ve used magic, but decided on doing it the only way you knew how: the human way.

“I thought I smelt a bunny in here.”

You let out a squeak of surprise, dropping the plate you were drying back into the filled basin. Water and soap splashed all around you, speckling the smock you wore over your dress and the counter. 

You yanked a small hand towel free and began to blot at the water spots as you whirled around to face Eris. The grin he wore only infuriated you even more. 

“Must you always sneak up on me?” you grumbled, tossing the towel back on the counter. 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, bunny,” Eris purred. 

“Oh, for Gods’ sake, stop calling me that!” 

“Perhaps when it stops to suit you so well.”

“It doesn’t suit me now,” you argued back. “I am not some little bunny.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Eris took a step towards you but something about his demeanor made you mirror his step backwards, your backside hitting the counter behind you. His grin sharpened at your movement.

“Are you scared of me, bunny?”

Your cheeks flushed, your heart skipped a beat in your chest. 

“N-no,” you stuttered. 

He took a step closer, that fox-like grin still on his face.

“Really?” Eris mocked. “You seem quite scared.” 

“You tend to have that effect on everybody.” 

“Do I?” 

You knew he was teasing you, but it didn’t stop your heart from pounding nor did it do anything to quell the butterflies in your stomach. He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head back to look up at him. You had almost forgotten how tall he truly was.

You nodded, losing your voice as he took another step closer.

“And why is that?” 

You cleared your throat, your hands finding the edge of the counter behind you so you could brace yourself. “It probably has to do with your reputation.” 

“I have a reputation?”

The question sounded more like a joke on his tongue. Eris raised his eyebrows at you in suggestion and you swallowed audibly. 

He took another step closer, now easily within reach of you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a small tremble shook your legs. But it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like anticipation. But for what? That was the part you couldn’t figure out. 

“You know you do,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You’ve gone to great lengths to make sure of it.” 

Something inside of you could see the mask Eris liked to wear. Another step closer and you could feel the heat coming from his body. It seemed to reach out to you, like standing near a warm fire. Your body softened in response. 

“You’re right. I have,” Eris cooed. “But I don’t care about everyone. I want to know if you are scared of me.”

He was so close now, only inches away from you, his handsome face looming over you. The sun setting caused a golden hue to stream through the window, making his crimson hair shine like molten metal.

“No,” you whispered, your head now fully tilted up to look at him. “But I think…I think I should be.” 

Based on everything you had been told about him, at least. 

Eris’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. The silence was thick, the tension in your body heightened. You were captive to his stare—to those whiskey amber eyes. Something ached terribly in your chest. 

Eris reached out a hand, hooking some of your hair behind a pointed ear. He leaned down, resting his hands on the counter behind you, caging you in. It almost seemed as if he was going to kiss you but instead his mouth landed by your ear.

“You’re right, bunny,” he purred. “You should be.” 

A chill ran down your spine as Eris stood back up. He seemed to relish in the way your body had responded to him, his grin turning smug and haughty. You should step away from him. Logically, you knew you should move. But something kept your feet ensnared—just like that day in the library. 

His stare held an intensity that made your mouth dry. Something loomed beneath–the weight of all the secrets he seemed to keep. Your eyes were a stark contrast to his. Wide and full of every emotion that ran through you, no deception to be found. 

Footsteps coming towards the door to the kitchen broke whatever spell you had been under. In a blink of an eye, Eris was almost on the other side of the room, his back resting against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

The doors pushed open and Lucien walked in. He paused on the threshold, his eyes narrowing on his brother before they drifted to you. He looked you up and down, as if he was inspecting you for damage. Seeming content that you were in one piece, he glanced warily at Eris. 

He rolled his eyes at his brother’s grin. 

“Leave Y/n alone,” Lucien grumbled. “She doesn’t like your little games. Come, you requested a meeting with me. Let’s get this over with so I take her home.” 

He nodded his head towards the door before leaving Eris to follow him. Eris gave you one last parting look on his way out. A look that would linger in your mind for the following weeks. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

The Dawn Court was radiant and you couldn’t stop spinning in circles, taking in the opalescent golden stone palace, grand staircases and ornate archways. Morning glories wrapped around pillars, drooping wisterias hung from every railing. It was beautiful, breathtaking. You could hardly believe your eyes.

You smoothed down the skirt of your midnight blue ball gown, feeling slightly out of place amongst all the pretty pastel colors of the Dawn Court. It was the first time you’d been out of the Night Court, besides that slight, accidental trip to Autumn. 

Later today, you would be meeting with the rest of the High Lords, as well as Vassa and her court to discuss a peace treaty. Rhys had insisted on bringing you despite Feyre’s hesitation. But he had made the point that the humans might take more kindly to someone familiar, someone who used to be like them. 

Nesta had been the first choice, but she and Cassian were still away on their mating vacation. Elain had been set to come today instead of you until Rhys had found out that Lord Nolan and Graysen would be attending the meeting and thus, Elain was spared the uncomfortable reunion and you were put in her place.

Not that you were complaining. You were excited to finally be involved.

The courtier from Dawn led your group to the suite your court would be staying in. It was carved from sunstone, with a lavish sitting area and private dining room—all decorated beautifully with jewel-toned fabrics and cushions stacked along the thick carpet. Bird cages hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room, right next to a large window that overlooked the countryside.

Once the courtier left, Rhys was quick to throw up several wards around the room. “Don’t get too comfortable yet. Eris is slipping by to meet before the official gathering.”

Mor groaned and plopped down on a settee, throwing her arm over her eyes. 

“Perhaps you’d like to go rest for a spell in your room, Y/n?” Your sister suggested.

You saw her words for what they were though. They didn’t want you around when Eris came. You might’ve tried to argue against it but decided to not push your luck today. They were already letting you come to the meeting.

You gave her a small nod and disappeared into one of the rooms. Still feeling a bit nauseated from all the winnowing, you laid down on the soft bed and drifted off into a mid afternoon nap. 

It only felt like a second had gone by when you eventually woke. You cursed as you looked out the small bay window, seeing the sun far lower than it had been when you had fallen asleep. You rose quickly and smoothed out your hair and dress. 

You sat down at a small vanity and touched up your makeup before finally leaving your room, not even checking if they were still in a meeting with Eris or not, not wanting to be late.

Your door creaked open and several heads twisted your way—including a very handsome one with flaming red hair. You blinked in surprise, your cheeks turning a bit pink at the sudden attention.

“My apologies,” you murmured, embarrassed. “I didn’t know we still had company.”

Your eyes darted to your sister, hoping she wasn’t upset with you, but Feyre’s face didn’t falter. Her eyes only softened as she looked at you. “It’s okay, we’re almost done here anyways.” 

Eris shot up suddenly, knocking his chair back.

“What is she doing here?” he hissed. 

Your eyes widened in shock, taken aback by both his words and his tone. Rhys’s eyebrows raised and Feyre frowned at the redhead.

“What does it matter to you?” Rhys asked, his face carefully blank. 

Eris scoffed and straightened out the sleeves of his coat. The frazzled look in his eye flickered away and his perfectly crafted mask was back in place. “It matters little to me. But considering you’ve gone to such lengths keeping her hidden, I’m surprised you’d allow her here knowing who will be at this meeting. My father is going to be displeased to know that you have not three but four Made females residing in your court now. It might make him…less agreeable.”   

“You think having her here is going to cause problems with your father?”

“I know having her here is going to cause problems with my father.” 

You bristled at the way you were being spoken about as if you weren't standing in the very same room as them. 

“Why should we care about your father’s feelings on the matter?” Azriel spat out, crossing his arms. 

“You want him to sign your little peace treaty, do you not?” Eris sneered at Azriel, his tone full of condescension. 

“We also need the humans to agree upon the treaty,” Feyre cut in. “And Y/n has been working with your brother as an emissary to gain their trust. Since Lucien cannot be here, it is vital that she is present at this meeting.” 

“You're delusional if you think it’s going to be harder to get the humans to sign the treaty than my father,” Eris said in that haughty tone of his. “He still thinks about that kernel of power you took from him. Power is all that matters to him and having all four made sisters in your court is going to be an issue in his eyes.” 

“We have other ways to entice your father,” Rhys said with a shrug.

You were still taken aback, unable to even form words to leave your mouth. You hadn’t been aware that your presence would cause such drama. You were nothing. No one. Just another Archeron sister. You didn’t even have powers outside the normal High Fae ones, like summoning things and winnowing. 

You didn’t miss the blink of fear that passed through Eris’s eyes, but no one else seemed to catch it. He still stood, his palms now pressed against the table separating him from the rest of your court. 

“Why is it that no one knows about her, anyways?” he asked. “Why is it that all reports only mention the other two sisters being put in the Cauldron and not Y/n?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of your name on his lips. But whatever feeling that was passed as a memory of that horrid day came at the reminder of the Cauldron. 

“Put the little one in first,” the King of Hybern ordered, smugly, as he kept eye contact with Feyre. She was pleading with him to let you go. Pleading and begging with her own life. You knew why he chose you to go in first. He knew that it would cause Feyre more grief, more stress.

The feeling of hands all over you as you fought against your binds. Hands that were dragging you closer and closer to the huge Cauldron that sat in the middle of the room. You were screaming through your gag. Tears were streaming down your face. 

You could even hear your sister’s ex lover demanding the King put a stop to this. 

“She is just a girl, a child,” someone in the room hissed. “Stop this!”

And you supposed you were—especially to the fae. You were almost seventeen, your birthday falling on the Autumn equinox, when both day and night were equal lengths. It was all you kept thinking about as you were dragged to the Cauldron.

Four months.

Four months until Autumn. 

And then you had been pushed underneath the dark water and your humanity had been stripped away from you.

Your heart was pounding at the thought of that day, of everything that had happened afterwards. Eris’s eyes flickered to you for a moment and you got the sense that he almost knew where your mind had drifted. Feyre gave you a look of concern. 

It struck you now that it had been three years since that day. 

Three years.

Three years since your life had been forever changed.

“Your contacts must not be very good at their jobs,” Rhys said in answer to Eris’s question. But you were also pondering it. Why is it that most of Prythian did not know of your existence? Why is it that the reports of that day only ever mention Nesta and Elain?

Eris didn’t look like he believed Rhysand either. 

“Fine, whatever, I don’t have time to argue with you. My father is expecting me back any moment now,” Eris finally said, standing to his full height. His gaze drifted to you for a second before he glared down at Rhys. 

“Send her away,” he spoke through his teeth and then he winnowed away, leaving only crackling embers in his wake. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

a/n: I got a lil inspired by that tiktok audio that’s like “I’m spooky? Do you think I’m spooky?” or whatever for the kitchen scene if you couldn’t tell haha. I hope this second part did not disappoint! So sorry for how long you guys had to wait to read it!

Tag list: @dwkfan @pinksmellslikelove @vellichor01 @whatdoyxumean @minnieoo @hnyclover @daughterofthemoons-stuff @ferrarisbitch @thaynarajejheje @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @the-sweet-psycho

*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve who has not a single idea about how social media works, but he downloads a few things like Instagram and Twitter only to check in on the kids. Other than that, he has zero knowledge of pop culture and kind of lives in that blissful bubble. Every once in a while, the kids will get a bit exasperated with him, but he enjoys listening to them explain things - and he knows they secretly love being able to rehash all the gossip.

And honestly, being out of the loop has it’s perks. Especially when he’s on a plane to Los Angeles, California to visit the Byers while they’re there for a concert and to do some sightseeing in the meantime. He’s sat next to someone who sits by the window seat but wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He seems strangely on edge - maybe suffering from a hangover or scared of flying.

Steve can’t help but tap him on the arm. When the stranger turns, he has his mouth in a flat line looking strangely done with the conversation before it’s even begun. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you’re okay,” Steve says.

The man frowns and tilts his head. He hesitates to reply, “Yes, I’m just… a bit on edge.”

“Tell me about it. This is my first time on a plane.”

The stranger’s mouth twitches. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been on hundreds of planes - would rather be on the road though,” the stranger says reaching up to grab at the end of his ponytail and twirl it around his finger.

Steve smiles and replies, “I get that. I’m Steve by the way.” He holds his hand out to the stranger who eyes it wearily.

“Eddie,” he replies quietly and shakes his hand.

Steve gets distracted by the rings on his hands and finds himself asking about them. The stranger looks at him for a moment, and, even with the sunglasses on, Steve can tell Eddie is strangely taken aback. Steve is about to take it back and apologize for… mentioning the rings? But Eddie points to the first one and explains.

The rest of the plane ride goes well, amazingly well even. Steve finds himself chatting away with Eddie and throughly enjoying his company - especially when he holds his hand while the plane takes off. He especially enjoys the moment when Eddie briefly takes his sunglasses out to look at the clouds, and Steve gets to see his beautiful brown eyes.

A range of emotions pass through those eyes before Eddie puts the sunglasses back on. Steve almost asks him to keep them off - entranced by the way they express everything he’s thinking. But that can be a dangerous thing, so he doesn’t press him about it.

When the captain announces that they’re about to land, Steve is truly upset to think about not getting the chance to see Eddie again. Maybe it’s the fact that Steve has taken a risk and finally left Indiana for once or maybe Eddie’s just one of the first people he’s hit it off with in a long time, but Steve asks, “Do you want to get coffee? After we land.”

Eddie’s tongue rests on his top lip, tracing it back and forth as he considers it. He finally responds, “I would love to, but I have an appointment as soon as we land.”

Steve lets the disappointment settle in him but tries his best not to let it show. “It’s alright.”

But Eddie fidgets with his rings, tongue still resting on his top lip as he debates something. “Do you have an Instagram?” He asks.

Steve laughs bashfully. “I do, but I never use it. Well, I do sometimes just to keep track of some kids I used to babysit honestly, like Dustin who I told you about.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I get your Instagram so I can message you with when I’m free? I would give you my number but… I’m afraid of it getting out. Not that you would do that but… people listening and whatnot…” Eddie spins his rings so anxiously fast that it makes Steve nearly laugh.

“Yes, I hope I remember it correctly because I didn’t come up with it,” Steve confesses. Eddie passes him his phone with the notes app open. He types in steve.the.hair.harrington and hands the phone back.

Eddie takes it back and laughs as he reads it. “It’s fitting,” he explains and reaches out to mess with a few strands.

“I try my best,” Steve replies with a shrug, wondering how he can get Eddie to touch his hair again.

“My hair stylist would love you,” Eddie says then freezes.

Steve smiles. “You have a hair stylist?”

Eddie struggles to respond but is given an out as the plane finally lands. He’s immediately reaching out to grab Steve’s hand, and he forgets all about the question.

Eddie doesn’t let go until people start making their way off the plane, using his hand to tilt his baseball cap a little lower and tuck in on himself. It’s as if he’s trying to avoid having someone see him, but Steve doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask.

Eddie follows Steve off the plane and glances around once they get to the terminal. Then, he quickly pulls him into a hug and whispers, “Thank you for a normal flight.”

Steve has no idea what he means by that, but he just squeezes him back tighter. Eddie pulls away and lingers in his arms. Steve wants more than anything to take off his sunglasses and look into his eyes again.

There’s a sound of a camera going off that has Eddie jumping away and putting his hands in his pockets. “Think we’re near someone famous?” Steve jokes.

“Oh, I know we are,” Eddie says with a small smile that makes it seem like he knows something that Steve doesn’t. Before he can ask, Eddie is saying, “I hope I’ll see you again. Goodbye, Steve.” And with that he’s rushing off, pulling his baseball cap a little lower and directing his gaze towards the ground.

He’s strange, but Steve likes him.

The rest of his day, he has a spring in his step. And by the time he gets to his hotel, he collapses on his bed with a sigh of relief. He pulls out his phone and checks for any notifications before he realizes his phone has been on airplane mode. He turns it off and waits for a message from Robin or Dustin to appear on his screen.

Instead, he’s bombarded with notification after notification - including 27 missed calls from Dustin. He calls him immediately.

The phone rings for not even a second before Dustin is answering with a scream of, “Steve Harrington, why have you not answered your phone?!”

“I’ve been sightseeing. Is everything okay?”

“Check the photos I sent you!”

Steve rushes to his messages, finding them filled with people he hasn’t heard from in years. He ignores that and goes to his pinned messages with Dustin. He clicks on the first picture he sees.

It’s a poor quality photo of him and Eddie hugging in the terminal. He swipes to find a photo of him and Eddie holding hands on the plane. Then another one of him lingering in Eddie’s arm looking… very smitten. “Dustin where did you get these?” Steve asks swiping and even coming across a video of them talking on the plane, with Steve laughing as Eddie dramatically tells some sort of tale.

“Better question, how did this even happen Steve? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve is thoroughly confused. “Dustin, I just met Eddie today. But seriously, how did you get these?”

There’s a pause on the other line and a breathed out, “Oh my god.” He can hear Dustin take a deep breath before he asks, “Steve, please tell me that you know who Eddie Munson is.”

“His last name is Munson?”

There’s a muffled scream on the other line before Dustin is launching into a speech about how Eddie is one of the most famous up and coming artists right now. And yeah Corroded Coffins does sound familiar, but it doesn’t click until Dustin explains that’s who Steve and the Byers are going to see in concert.

Oh.

Steve thinks back and everything clicks - especially the number of people who were staring at him and trying to sneak photos while he was out. He scrolls to a screenshot of a Twitter post with the caption, “did anyone else know that eddie munson has a boyfriend???”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Dustin, how many people think we’re dating?”

“The entire internet so basically the whole world,” Dustin says, and Steve doesn’t have time to even process that statement before Dustin is yelling, “Oh my god!”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson just liked a photo I was tagged in! Holy shit, he’s seen my face!”

“Yeah, dude, I told him all about you on the plane,” Steve says. And boy, that probably will not help with the kid’s ego.

Steve opens his Instagram, ignoring Dustin’s little screams on the other line, and takes in the sheer number of notifications. He quickly goes to his requests in his messages and finds one from therealeddiemunson. “Hey, Dustin, what does a blue checkmark mean?”

Dustin groans on the other line asking why it was Steve who got to meet him before finally explaining it. Steve accepts the request and stares at the message hey, you still on for that coffee?

Steve clicks on Eddie’s profile and his heart thuds. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to have a “K” in their follower count. He looks at the recent photos and feels himself turn a bit red. He almost has no clue how the Eddie he met on the plane and Eddie Munson are the same guy.

“Dustin, if I turned down Eddie Munson for coffee would you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear to god I will never let my mom bake anything for you again.”

Steve laughs and with that he goes back to the messages and sends Absolutely :)

[worksby-d]

About The Other Night...

Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader

Summary: Seeing Andy for the first time since he fucked you in his car on the way to a Halloween party. (Part one)

Warnings: Age gap, Andy’s imaginary younger kid I made up to make the plot work, smut – oral (f receiving), biting, protected sex (they remembered condoms exist thank god), me continuing to convince everyone Andy has tattoos, 18+

Word count: ~2,900

He’s all you’ve been able to think about. 

It’s been weeks of flashbacks to that night in his car. His hands on your body, whispers of praise in your ear, the marks you left on his skin. 

You left the party early that night, unable to get him out of your head. Your clothes faintly smelled like him as you laid in bed once you got home, staring at the ceiling. And you came again, thinking back to just a few hours prior, chasing that same, euphoric feeling.

It wasn’t nearly as good of an orgasm as he gave you though and you let out a frustrated sigh, clenching your eyes shut to force yourself asleep, hoping you could just sleep your feelings away. 

You refrained from texting or calling him since then. You wanted nothing more than to make sense of what happened… Maybe apologize for coming onto him. But would you mean it? 

It doesn’t matter. 

You knew it shouldn’t happen again. 

But what he said… “I usually take my time with people I like,” and then “Another time?” when you wouldn’t let him do that. It kept running through your mind, making you wonder if he was thinking of you too. 

To your surprise, he texted you first. No mention of your rendezvous, just straight to the point, asking if you could babysit his daughter again so he could take care of some work business while Jacob is at a friend’s house. 

You almost replied instantly, but forced yourself to wait, not wanting it to be obvious you’d been hoping to hear from him again, even if it was just to ask a favor. That means he’s not upset with you. 

As you sit in your car in his driveway, your mind races with what you’re going to say to him or what he’s going to say to you. Your eyes fixate on the time and you wait until the last possible minute to put your brave face on and walk into their house. 

Lucky for you, he’s in a rush. You walk in to him giving his daughter a hug and kiss goodbye. And with a short–but genuine–Thank you, Y/N, he’s out the door. 

On second thought, you don’t know if that’s really lucky for you. 

You let out a sigh as you watch him and hear the door shut behind him. Great. You get to spend the next couple hours continuing to battle your nerves. 

Maybe you do wish you would have just gotten addressing the elephant in the room over with. 

When he gets home a few hours later, his daughter is sound asleep in her room. You’re an expert at wearing her out and getting her to sleep at a reasonable time, probably why the Barbers have kept you around. 

You’re in his kitchen when you hear his footsteps come into the house. Instant sweaty palms make putting the dishes from dinner away harder. You almost drop them completely when you hear his voice behind you. 

“Hey…” 

Letting out a faint breath, you brace yourself and turn to look at him. “Hi.”

You wish you could say the smile on your face is a fake, forced one, but it’s not. Not when he looks like that. Like he had a long day and needs someone to tell him to relax. Maybe help him relax. 

You inwardly curse yourself. This is pathetic, there’s no way he’s still thinking about you, so you need to be over it.

The awkward silence that sets in is undeniable. A silence that neither of you quite know how to sever. 

“About the other night…” 

What the hell, apparently you’re giving it a shot first.

He interrupts you before you can go any further. “What about it?”

He smirks and the look on your face mirrors his, relieved to hear his joking tone. 

“I…” You try to go on anyway, but the words you’ve been rehearsing in your head have fled. You’re instantly flustered, hiding your face in your hands.

He takes the last few steps it takes to be standing in front of you and places his hands on your shoulders. 

“Everything is fine,” he promises, rubbing his hands along your arms, encouraging you to drop them. “Look at me.”

You do and your smile falters. “Seriously… I shouldn’t have come onto you like that.”

Shaking your head, you open your mouth again to apologize, but he stops you. 

He leans closer, causing you to still, nearly holding your breath. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he whispers. 

Fuck, that's what you were hoping for.

His warm breath against your ear brings back the memories of how close you were in the front seat of his car. You have to swallow back a whimper. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either,” you admit. 

He takes that, along with the fact that you haven’t tried to move away from where he has you backed up against the counter, as an OK to be the one to make the first move this time. 

His lips ghost dangerously close to your neck, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. You can’t stop a whimper from escaping this time. 

“Andy,” you sigh, tilting your head for him. 

You’re a little apprehensive yet, not because you don’t want this again, but because you can’t help but hear that voice in the back of your head saying you shouldn’t.

He can feel your nerves as if they’re radiating from you. His kisses trail down your neck while his hands leave the counter behind you, resting on your hips. 

“I won’t bite,” he teases, trying to put you at ease. But you feel his smile against your skin. “Actually… I remember you’re into that.”

That gets you to giggle. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him tighter against you so you can hide your face against his chest. 

He lets up momentarily, laughter fading so he can be serious. “I’ll stop if you want me to…”

“Don’t.” 

The word comes out quick, desperation clear in your voice. 

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Him guiding you toward his couch and kneeling between your parted legs is all a blur. 

He looks at you for approval as his hands slide up your thighs, fingers hooking in the waistbands of your sweats and panties. 

“My turn, yeah?” He winks. 

You bite your lip, your answer coming in the form of silently ridding yourself of your clothes for him. 

“Good girl.” His hands return to your hips to help position you, pulling you closer, while his broad shoulders spread your legs further. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Your head falls back against the cushions. This is what your last couple weeks worth of dreams were made of. 

“Please–” 

Your plea is cut off by your own gasp as he begins placing tender kisses along your inner thigh, teasingly nipping your sensitive skin, enough to leave marks similar to the ones you left on him.

You can’t help but squirm, aching for him already. Your hands rest on his head, fingers threading through his hair, tugging ever so gently. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re being impatient.

“I told you, I take my time with people I like.” His words are mumbled between kisses, getting closer to where you want him with each one. 

“God, I was kind of hoping you weren’t serious about that.” Your breathless laugh is followed by a moan when his lips reach your clit. 

“I was very serious, but lucky for you…” His voice trails off as his tongue teases along your slit before focusing back on your clit. “You're very hard to resist right now.”

“Oh, fuck,” you sigh. 

Your hands pull his face closer and he doesn’t fight it, devouring your pussy like he can’t get enough.

He has you in a haze, failing to notice your moans are getting louder with each lap of his tongue. 

You take in a deep breath when he suddenly pulls away, pressing soothing kisses to your thighs again. 

“You sound so pretty,” he teases. “But you gotta stay quiet for me.”

“Sorry,” you giggle. “It just feels so good.” 

“I know, and I want to keep making you feel good, but you gotta be quiet, angel.” 

Angel. You smile, but immediately try to suppress it. You definitely don’t mind that nickname sticking, but you can’t believe he has you grinning like an idiot while he’s between your thighs. 

Nodding quickly, you promise to keep it down. You just need him to keep going, pulling at his hair again to give him a clue. 

He catches on right away, chuckling as he gives in to you. Your eyes roll back as he hums contentedly against your sensitive cunt. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he murmurs without pulling away, noting how your body reacts to the vibrations from his voice. “Come on.” 

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, quieting the moans you can't hold in as you let go for him. You lose yourself in the sensation of the high he gives you, body trembling as he works you through it, completely unfazed by your thighs pressing against the sides of his head as the pleasure becomes too much.

“Andy,” you gasp when you can trust yourself to control the volume of your voice again. Your fingers unravel from his hair and he takes that as his sign to ease up. He can't get enough of you though, causing your body to jerk with a few lingering kisses to your swollen folds. “Holy hell.” 

His hands rub your sides and along your thighs as you calm down. Glancing back down at him, you can't help but let out a laugh. He furrows his brow, concerned he did something wrong, but you grab his hands reassuringly.

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “I've just never came from that before. That was… Crazy.” 

Barking out a laugh laced with disbelief, he sits back and pulls you by the hands to sit up too. “What kind of useless guys have you been with?” 

“I don't know,” you chuckle, biting your lip nervously. “But there's only one guy I wanna be with right now.” 

He has an arm around your waist as you walk into his bedroom. You joked–but not really–that you didn't know if you could walk after how he made your legs shake.

He sits you on the edge of the bed while he quickly steps back toward the door, locking it out of habit. 

“I won't make you be so quiet in here,” he whispers, leaning over you, gently pushing you back to lay down. 

“Good,” you giggle, pulling him down with you for a kiss.

You both make quick of discarding the rest of your clothes. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt as you rush to undo them. He takes over when he feels your frustrated groan against his lips. 

“Easy, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he quips, poking fun at your desperate movements.

A wave of embarrassment flushes over you, heat creeping up your chest and across your face. It’s quickly forgotten as he sits up to slip his shirt off though. Your eyes drift down his body, jaw dropping slightly as you take in his toned features that you didn’t get to see last time. 

“Eyes up here, pretty girl.” He brings your attention back by cupping your face as he hovers over you again, getting you to look back in his eyes. There’s a teasing glint in them as his thumb strokes your cheek. “What’s that look for?”

Your hands press against his chest, moving up to his shoulders where your fingers trace along lines of black ink. “You have tattoos…” 

He drops his head, stifling the laugh he lets out with a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve taken me for a prude of an old man all this time.”

“I…” Shit, you kinda did. 

You dodge his question by moving your hands to his face to pull him down, closing the small gap that’s left between you with a kiss.

“We’re coming back to that later,” he jokes against your lips.

Your guilty giggle quickly turns into a small whine as you roll your hips, needy for the feeling of his cock again. 

You let your hand fall from the back of his neck, moving between your bodies. He groans feeling your fingers wrap around his hard length.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths of anticipation, but you have one last moment of clarity before fully giving into him. 

“Wait,” you whisper. 

He stops instantly, pushing himself up just enough to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You shake your head, catching your breath. “Do you have condoms?”

“Uh, yeah, I…” He points toward a nightstand, but he doesn’t finish his sentence, a flash of panic on his face. “Are you not on–”

“I am,” you quickly assure him. Nothing happened, but that doesn’t mean you should do it again. “That was just kind of stupid of us last time.”

“Right.” You’re relieved when he laughs with you. “One second.”

Pleasure-filled moans from both of you fill the room as his cock finally sinks into you. Attempting to get him to move, you wrap your legs around him. 

“I need a second, angel,” he chuckles, leaning to kiss you while you both get used to the feeling of each other again. “You’re–” He lets out a groan. “You feel so good.”

Your kisses travel to his cheek and along his jaw. “Please,” you beg quietly, grazing your teeth against the delicate skin beneath his ear.

Even though you’re imploring him, the first thrust takes you by surprise, a startled gasp falling from your lips as your head falls back against the bed. “Oh my God.”

“Attagirl,” he breathes out slowly, teasing you with equally slow drags of his cock in and out of you. “You can take it.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod weakly, mouth dropping open in a strangled moan as he sets a steady pace with his hips. 

His muscles flex underneath your fingertips, your hands grasping onto his upperarms as he fucks you harder. 

“That's right, hold on. I've got ya.” 

Those reassuring words drive you wild. He slides a hand down your side to grip the back of your thigh, pushing it off his waist to spread your legs further, allowing him to fuck you deeper. 

Your back arches, pushing your hips closer to his to feel him against your clit. The contact causes your legs to quiver, and you dig your nails into his arms.

“Damn.” You try to laugh, but it almost sounds like a sob. He's got you on the edge already. This is only your second time with him, how does he know your body so well? “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what, sweetheart?” He smirks knowingly, pressing fervent kisses to your neck. 

You let out a shaky breath. “You're so good.” 

“We've established you've been with useless guys,” he chuckles. 

You'd laugh too, but you can't focus on anything that's not the pleasure threatening to erupt deep inside you. 

“Please don't stop.” 

He doesn't halt you when you begin to move in tune with him, relentlessly rolling your hips, desperate for another orgasm. You can't bear the thought of going home and having to take care of it yourself again. You need to be spent tonight. 

“Let go.” His voice is low, close to your ear as he litters your jaw and shoulder with teasing bite marks. “Cum for me, Y/N.” 

“I–” Your breaths quicken as he thrusts into you and pulls almost all the way out before doing it again. And again. And– “Yes, right there!”

He groans feeling your pussy flutter around his dick, chasing after his own release as he prolongs yours. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your fingers soothe over the scratches you're sure you left on his arms and back while he lays with you. After he pulled out, he shifted like he wanted to lay beside you, but you held onto him so he couldn't, liking the weight of him on top of you.

As if he can sense what you're thinking about the marks, he speaks up softly after a few shuddering breaths. “It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” you chuckle. 

To your dismay, he rolls on to his side once his breathing has steadied so he can prop himself up on an elbow. He rests a hand on your cheek, quieting your protest. “Do you need anything?” He reaches over you for a blanket to cover you with before holding your face again. 

“Just sleep,” you sigh dramatically. The exhaustion is definitely hitting you though, it's not a total exaggeration. “Now I really don't think I can walk, by the way.” 

He laughs at you. “Don't worry, I'm not kickin' you out.” 

Good because you're two seconds away from falling asleep.

“But the kids…” You slur out the few words. 

“If they see you, I'll tell them I got home late, so you slept over.” 

“Are you sure–”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he cuts you off with a kiss to your forehead, teasing you. “You worry so much. Leave that to me.” 

“Sorry,” you smile, offering him a wink that turns into both of your eyes falling shut for good. “Goodnight, Mr. Barber.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[i23kazu]

♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

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reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

[bkgml]

i absolutely LOVE your works!! could you write about y/n and bakugo having a argument and y/n sleeping on the couch? i dont mind if its gonna be a sad or happy ending ;D

(feel free to ignore this ask!)

WOOOO I GET SUCH A BOOST WHEN PPL COMPLIMENT MY WORK is that shallow idk but like even if it is you can’t blame me 😚

“leave me alone katsuki.” you frown, tears in your lash line as you walk into the kitchen.

“stop acting like a child yn.” he calls after you.

you stop before inhaling sharply to regain your composure. you’re not in the mood to argue, you had a really long day today and you just wanted to cuddle katsuki and go to bed.

you continue walking to the fridge so you can make dinner.

“now you’re fuckin ignoring me? it was one date.” he says coldly.

that pushes you over the edge. whipping your head to glare at him.

“one date?! katsuki you’ve missed 15 dates. you’re constantly prioritizing me over your job and i get left behind to pick up the pieces. i’m sick of it!!” you scream.

he walks toward you, caging you into the counter and you frown because you know what he’s looking for.

“you can’t kiss me and expect this to all go away katsuki. it’s happened too many times!” you frown, pushing him away.

he lets you, taking the hint.

“you know i need to go into work when they call me, you’re being selfish!” he yells and slams his hand on the countertop.

you jump away from him and your eyes fill with tears.

“don’t yell at me.” you frown.

“i’m gonna go to bed. i don’t want dinner.” you mumble, rushing past him to go to the family room.

“you’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“don’t tell me what to do!!” you snap.

he purses his lips and turns to leave.

“i’m sleeping on this couch before you decide to do the proper thing and apologize like an adult.” you call after him.

his fists clench and he stoms into the bedroom.

you force yourself to sleep. you’ve forgiven him way too many times.

katsuki lies awake in his room. counting how many minutes have passed without you coming to bed. he didn’t know you were this mad, he wants to spend time with you so badly. unfortunately hes trying to save up for the perfect ring and has taken on too many shifts. hes hoping he hasn’t fucked up bad enough for you to leave him.

at that thought, he makes his way to the living room. peeling back the warm blankets in exchange for the cold air of a girlfriend-less night.

he finds you in a light sleep on the couch.

“baby.” he says, brushing your hair out of your face.

“baby come to bed please? ‘m sorry.” he says, lowly.

your eyes flutter open and you frown at him.

“i said im not coming to bed, suki.” you pout.

he grunts in frustration.

“fine.” he says, standing.

you think he’s on his way back to bed so you shut your eyes once again.

only to feel your body get crushed by his weight.

“katsuki.” you groan, trying to shove him off.

“not moving.” he says while wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“i’m not done being mad at you.” you whisper into the silence.

he removes his arms in favour of pulling up your shift to press soft kisses to the spot on your tummy that sends butterflies to flutter around your stomach.

“i know.” he replies in between kisses.

“but i’m done with you being mad at me.” he says while putting your shirt down over his head.

you sigh, attempting to pull the shirt back up so you can see his face.

he doesn’t let you though, preferring to nose at the soft part of your tummy.

“i know you’re hiding a blush under there.” you say.

“no you don’t.” he replies, resuming his kisses.

“alright.” you say softly.

he pops his head out now, thumbs starting to rub circles into your hips.

“hm?” he questions.

you sigh before reaching to cup his cheek.

“i forgive you,” you mumble and he smiles softly, leaning into your palm.

“i guess.” you grin and he bites your hand.

“ow! don’t push your luck.” you frown.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

“i guess.” he says and your grin drops.

he cackles loudly before standing and throwing you over his shoulder.

you laugh with him and bite his waist.

“hey.” he grunts and throws you on the bed.

you giggle and open your arms.

he shuffles up until his entire body weight is on you and his face is in your neck.

“don’t sleep on the couch ever again.” he mumbles, lips grazing your neck giving you shivers.

“don’t do dumb shit ever again.” you mumble back and he frowns.

“said i was sorry.”

“i know.” you smile, brushing his hair off his forehead and pressing a lingering kiss to his skin.

he hums in content as his eyes flutter shut before he falls asleep.

“miss another date and i’ll fucking kill you.” you whisper.

his eyes snap open.

[midnightorchids]

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. Also, this is completely gender neutral, so anyone can read!

But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting. 

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more. 

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it. 

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself. 

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey. 

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped. 

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

-

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

-

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

-

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

-

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

[tojisun]

im giggling thinkin about biker!simon finding out you haven’t ever ridden a bike before and so the first thing he does is tell you to stay put before hopping on his harley and driving away.

you stand there, blinking, still reeling over what happened. you’re quite confused if your date really just left you, before giving up on worrying as you hold onto the hopes that he’d come back. he did say he will but how many of your dates and ex-partners fooled you because, apparently, you’re too “gullible” and it’s just too “funny”?

too fucking many times, that’s what.

you amble towards an empty bench while you wait, fluffing up your skirt and dusting your sweater before fixing your hair. you itch to message your friends, anxious thoughts buzzing underneath your veins, but simon had always been such a gentleman with you. always so caring and pampering. always so honest with his affections. he isn’t like anyone you’ve ever been and so you want to trust him.

and you do. god, you do. because you trust him with your safety. with your heart.

time crawls by but the agonizing drag does end. you didn’t have to wait long, you realize with a giddy heart, as you see simon driving back. his head whips around the park, trying to find you, and you giggle as you stand up, waving your hand above your head to catch his attention.

his helmeted head snaps towards your direction and you smile as the purr of his engine becomes louder, his bike devouring the space between the two of you eagerly.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says as he snaps his visor up, his beautiful eyes crinkled as he smiles at you.

the butterflies in your stomach roar, and you almost choke on the intensity of your happiness as you whisper back, “hey there, big guy.”

simon preens like he loves the nickname and you sear his reaction to your memory, already anticipating the next opportunity where you get to call him that again.

“i‘ve got somethin’ for you,” simon announces before twisting towards the other side of his harley, reaching for something that you couldn’t see. you tilt your head, trying to act cool as you wait.

simon turns back to you with a shy smile tickling his lips, and your eyes instantly flicks towards his hands where he cradled a cute little purple helmet – one of the many things you didn’t expect him to return with.

“is that a bicycle helmet?” you blurt out.

“yeah,” he laughs, a pretty sound. “this is all they have.”

“‘they’?” you finally move close to him as you ask this, taking tentative steps on the gravel.

“the closest bike rental,” simon replies, sounding embarrassed. “you said y’ve never been on a bike and, well, this is a safe environment so i thought, ‘why not?’”

you breathe in sharply, his words curling along the crevices of your heart. “lemme get this straight,” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat. “you heard me say i’ve never been on a bike before so your first reaction was to drive away to find a closest bike rental so you can get me a helmet because you want to give me a safe bike ride?”

“…yeah,” he whispers, hesitant. “i mean, if you don’t want to then that’s oka- are you crying?”

“shut up,” you whimper, hiding your face behind your palms.

you hear him curse, the engine of his bike shutting off, before hearing the way his feet drop on the gravel and march towards you. in a heartbeat, you are pulled in his embrace, with your face pressed on his chest, and you eagerly breathe in the scent of leather and ozone that is stuck on him. he pats your head softly, his palm dragging along your hair as he continues to comfort you.

you sniffle, unable to stop the tears because what the actual fuck.

you have never felt so loved. so adored. so revered.

you chew on your confession, your heart and mind syncing up for once. simon, i-

(later, when you’ve finally calmed down, you will let out a wet giggle and apologize for dampening the mood. simon will just smile at your adorable, tear-swollen face and tell you that you have nothing to apologize for. then, he’ll kiss your forehead before securing your helmet on your head. he’ll tighten the strap around your chin, gently knock on the shell, then pull you onto his bike. you two will spend the rest of the afternoon just making slow and gentle donuts around the park, laughing and chatting.

and then, gritting through the choking staccato of your heartbeat, you will tell simon that you want more than a flurry of dates. that you want something more official. then, you will tell him you love him and simon will buckle before you because,

“me too, sweet girl. i’m so in love with you too.”)

-

(ext.01) (ext.02) (ext.03)

[russo-woso]

Pls pls pls if your taking requests post breakup angry I’ve missed you sex with toxic leah being cocky saying to y/n that no one could ever fuck as good as she can with a strap make it filthy🙏🙏🙏

Only I can || Leah Williamson

Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus, strap-on, dom!leah, sub!reader

“Leah, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice full of different emotions.

Anger.

Sadness.

Desire.

You and Leah had broke up just over a month ago.

Your relationship had taken a toll when Leah drunkenly kissed a girl, and another, and another.

You’d confronted her about them all and she’d say the same thing every time.

She’d admit she had kissed a woman but explained to you that she was drunk and then afterwards, expected you to continue your relationship as if nothing had happened.

You didn’t want to end the relationship, because at the end of the day, you still loved Leah, but you figured it was better to end it so you wouldn’t keep getting hurt.

The first few days after the break up, Leah left notes, full of apologies, on your doorstep.

You would scrunch them up and throw them in the bin, knowing your heart would shatter if you read them.

You saw the notes as reminders that Leah was no longer yours.

As the weeks went by, the notes disappeared, meaning one thing.

Leah was getting over you.

That’s why it was such a surprise when you opened the door late one night to be met with Leah.

“Let me in. Please.” Leah commanded, quickly remembering to use her manners.

“Leah. No. I promised myself I wouldn’t let you hurt me.” You replied, trying to hold it in so you don’t break in front of her.

“Please, Y/N. I love you. Only you. I was stupid. I was drunk when I kissed them girls. I promise it won’t happen again. I only want your lips. I only want you.” Leah said, stuttering a few of her words.

“Le…” you began, your mind disappearing as you thought about the situation. Wondering whether to let Leah come in and what would happen in the long run if you did let her in.

“I only want your lips on mine. No body else’s.” Leah mumbled as she took a step closer to you, your bodies inches away from one another’s. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

You nodded your head, desperate to have Leah back, and within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours.

Leah controlled the kiss as she pushed you inside, your back immediately finding the wall once she’d shut the door.

“I’m gonna show you that you belong to me. No one else.” Leah said, her voice deep, as you moved your head backwards to give her more access to your neck. “Bedroom?”

You nodded desperately. Eager for Leah to do something.

Swiftly, Leah picked you up and carried you up the stairs.

After taking her own clothes off, Leah climbed onto the bed, hovering over you.

She immediately attached her lips back to your neck, only separating them to take your top off.

You grabbed the back of Leah’s neck as she managed to find your sweet spot on your neck.

Leah worked her way down to your boobs, gently taking your already hardened nipple into her mouth.

Your head hit the pillow as she swirled her tongue around the sensitive bud.

Her tongue continued to trail down your body, leaving marks that only you and her would see.

Eventually she was face to face with your pussy.

She pressed kisses to your inner thigh and you sighed in response, desperate to feel some sort of pleasure.

Just as you were about to tell her to hurry up, Leah’s tongue made contact with your core, her tongue swiping through your soaked folds.

You bucked your hips into Leah’s face, the feeling of Leah smirking into you as you did.

Leah’s tongue explored you like it was its first time.

You looked down at Leah, your heart rate increasing once you laid eyes on her hands.

Her hands were laid on your thighs, a firm grip on them to keep you in place.

Her arms flexed as she squeezed your thighs.

You moaned at just the sight of her, catching Leah’s attention.

You made eye contact with Leah, wordlessly saying that you were close to your high.

“I wanna hear you pretty girl. I want the world to hear how good I make you feel.” Leah said against your pussy, pushing you more and more over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum - oh god - I’m coming.” You let out, your head flush against the pillow.

Your eyes had shut in pleasure but reopened as you felt the weight of Leah disappear.

You watched as she got off the bed, walked towards the bedside table and open the drawer.

“I knew it would still be here. It’s as if you knew I’d come back.” Leah murmured, quickly putting the harness on before making her way over to you. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, okay? You’re going to cum when I say. You’re going to do everything I tell you to.”

“Yes, le.” You replied, your voice hoarse from your moaning.

“Good girl.” Leah stroked two fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to lube the strap.

Leah pressed the tip against your clit before sticking it into you.

Your mouth widened as Leah continued to get deeper and deeper.

As her skin met yours, she gently pulled out before entering again.

A light smirked stayed on Leah’s face whilst watching you take her.

“Fuck, le, you feel so good.” You moan, your eyes meeting her darkened ones.

“I know I do, pretty girl. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?” Leah cockily replied, continuously pumping in and out. “Only I can make you feel this good. Only me. No one else can make you cum this hard.”

“Only you can.” You managed to say between ragged breath and moans. “Oh god - right there, le. God I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re not coming until I say so.” Leah repeated and you tried to nod but the pleasure coursing through your body restricted the movement.

“Le, I’m so close, please.” You whined, so close to your orgasm.

Leah leant down to kiss your neck, pressing light kisses to your jaw and sweet spot as she increased her speed.

“Only I get to do this to you. Only I get to touch you like this. Only I get to kiss you. You’re my pretty girl, no one else’s.” Leah whispered in your ear. “Let go, baby. You know you want to.”

And with them final words, a mixture of curse words and breathy moans of Leah’s name escaped your mouth.

“Only you can do this to me Leah.”

“I know, babe.”

Requests are open :)

[kisseobie]

Hello🫣🫣 may I request p1harmony reaction to you wearing something short/revealing when going out clubbing? Thank youuu☺️☺️

p1harmony reacting to you wearing revealing clothes

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: suggestive

tags: established relationships, clingy piwon, the boys are.. boys, clubbing, drinking (aged up for seobsoul), non idol au

a/n: it’s funny bc i was JUST reading an exact post like this a few minutes ago so anon if u were the same person who sent @ntoniac a request for the same thing i hope i can do it justice bc hers had me giggling and kicking my feet .. ANYWAYS! once again i apologize for slow updates i unfortunately am a student amidst a depressive episode soooooo it takes me a bit longer to write :( i hope u all can understand

𖧷 keeho

is honestly so cheesed. the type to insist to take pictures of you on his phone before you two actually make your way out, already mentally planning out which photo he’s gonna use in his next photo dump. is always super grabby with his hands, but its somehow amplified tonight. constantly has his arm lazily perched on your shoulder, and he often whispers cute little compliments into your ear every now and then. doesn’t really mind when people approach you to talk to you, doesn’t even necessarily care when said people make quick glances at your cleavage and the short length of your skirt. you two have an immense level of trust in your relationship, so he’s not one to feel insecure when people admire his girl. i can see kyo as the type to drag you onto the dance floor too, just so he can spin you around and feel your ass rub against the frontside of his jeans. eventually does end up posting those photos he took of you earlier on instagram, but not without captioning it something like “that’s all me”

𖧷 theo

doesn’t care about how short and tight your mini dress is, just wants it off of you by the end of the night. when you first skipped into the living room, beaming as you showed off your outfit of choice to him, theo had to hold himself back from kissing you silly. just like keeho, the simple concept of his girlfriend wearing a revealing outfit doesn’t make him super possessive, but he does make himself known to onlookers as your boyfriend in other ways, whether that be holding your drink and purse for you without you even asking him to, or sneaking up behind you to pepper kisses along your neck when your in the middle of conversation with someone. he makes his presence known but also wants to ensure that you have a carefree, enjoyable night without feeling like you have to tend to your boyfriend the entire time. taeyang definitely does admire your cleavage when he gets the chance too though, shamelessly stares at your chest and just giggles in reply when you scold him for doing so… loves to flirt with you even more than he usually does tbh

𖧷 jiung

is the overly possessive boyfriend that will whine and beg you to change. in reality, he doesn’t actually expect you to change your outfit, but lets you know (whilst pouting) that although you look hot and he wants to devour you, he also is very nervous about the unwanted attention you might get. it’s not a bad thing really! jiung just wants to be the only man that gets to see you in such a tiny top. although he might complain at first, you don’t miss the obvious blush on his face, silently signaling to you that he secretly loves when you dress this way. he’s not a very touchy person, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t interlock your fingers the entire night, even giving your hand gentle squeezes when you give someone else a little too much attention for his liking. glares at anyone who might whistle at you or even just look in your general vicinity for a bit too long. quickly shuts down offers himself from other guys that have the balls to ask you to dance. yeah, your not being let out of his sight looking that good. he’s just obsessed with you and wants you all to himself, sorry!

𖧷 intak

actually is the one who helps you pick out your outfit! tak himself wants to spend the night out showing off his beautiful girlfriend so he purposely convinces you to wear the shortest denim skirt you own, paired with an equally revealing spaghetti strap crop top. comes up behind you when your adjusting your outfit in the mirror to wrap his arms around your waist and perch his chin on your right shoulder, shooting down any concerns you might have about your outfit being kind of “whorish” (your words, not his!). is your personal hype man. you look good and he’s gonna make you feel good. loves to watch you on the dance floor from a nearby barstool, having the time of your life with your friends. after you’ve tired yourself out, you walk towards him to join him at the bar and he doesn’t miss the opportunity to eye your entire body from top to bottom and let out an obnoxious whistle. he’s sooooo sweet frat boy coded… definitely asks if he can take a body shot off of you whilst winking and you just roll your eyes in response. when he ends up drunk out of his mind and you have to drag him inside your shared cab, he’s mumbling the sweetest praises to you before he falls asleep against your shoulder

𖧷 soul

doesn’t really have much to say, but his body language speaks for itself. like most of piwon, his possessiveness is at a minimum, and like intak, he loves when you feel confident enough to dress this way. maybe it’s the introvert in him, but he lives vicariously through your bold outfit choices. loves to give you kisses on your exposed collarbone as he smoothens out a crease on your silk skirt. he also loves the way your stomach peeks out of your cropped top, and he holds onto your waist when kissing you to circle his thumbs on the area. stares at you lovingly the entire night, and doesn’t falter when your eyes meet every now and then. he comes up to you towards the end of the night and whispers into your ear about how he thinks you look so pretty and that he loves this outfit. you definitely end up seeing a more vocal side of him when the alcohol kicks in, and you swoon at how lovey dovey his words are. he just wants you to feel pretty and confident and he ends up succeeding in proving that to you! makes really bad attempts at flirting which ends up in the pair of you laughing your asses off. overall shota makes you feel beautiful and you make mental notes to bring him out wearing revealing clothes more often

𖧷 jongseob

djsjdkajdjsj i have to write my boyfriend as clingy as possible. he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to sit on the end of your bed, aimlessly scrolling on his phone and taking little peeks at you every now and then while your doing your makeup on your vanity. when you finish your makeup and go to your closet to change into the tiny little dress you’ve chosen for the evening, you’re honestly a bit nervous as to how your boyfriend will react to how bodycon and short the attire is, but you look and feel hot and that encourages you to step out in front of him. he notices your presence right away and looks up at your face, then chest, then thighs, and then turns off and tucks his phone into his back pocket and grabs at you to sit on his lap. gives you the sweetest kiss imaginable and pulls away to look at you with disbelief. asks you something along the lines of “how did i get so lucky?” and his hands run all over the material of your dress. his boldness is new but very welcome and he spends a good while complimenting you, asking you where you bought this dress, and playing with your hair with a smug grin on his face. gets soooo excited to take you out and wastes no time in calling an uber so he can show you off to the world. feels like he’s on cloud 9!

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @theyluvsosa @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

𖧷 ₊ ° .

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

[hxltic]

if you’re writing , pls do konig x reader and the reader is a cry baby

Cry baby as in like sexually?? i got you

König is horrible at teasing you, frankly because he gives in himself. Never has he slapped the tip along your folds, or made you grind on him to ruffle your own mental—but today, he has brought you to your breaking point. all you’ve wanted all day was him.

He finally returns to you, and the first thing you did was hug him around the neck. Both your legs swung up to the top of his hips so he could carry you away. Once ridden of the day and full to his stomach, König finds you in the bedroom in all your needy glory, pleading for him but unwilling to disturb his peace or alone time after the day’s mission.

He teased like never before. Even going as far to play with your dripping pussy with his big fingers, dipping it into the wetness and rolling it around your clit. You don’t know what made you this way, and you were excited at just the thought of your mysterious hunk of a man coming home to you.

But not this. You begged and waited (impatiently) for his gratitude. He flattened his tongue so you could grind on the warm sensation, but with each hand under your knee on display for him, it literally wasn’t possible to move because of his strength. At this point you were so frustrated you probably could cry.

“Kö please, what did I do? I w-won’t do it again I swear,” you attempt, asking for forgiveness at you don’t even know what. Truthfully you hadn’t done anything wrong, but even after given colonel position, you’re still the only one he feels genuinely in charge of like this. He never thought he cared until the high he got from hearing you whine for him came along. You don’t want anyone else. Just him.

On that thought, once he inserted himself, his pace was unbelievably slow. König never prided himself on his self-control but he knew his size, and had he went any faster you would’ve came on the spot.

“‘m sorry, faster please,” you tried again. “I’ve been waiting for you all day!” Already on the verge of tears as your nails dig crescents into his muscled back, when he finally gives you what you want, you lose your mind.

Nothing was slow. Almost a signification of flipping the switch, he throws you over to your stomach effortlessly. He spreads your legs and brings you to your elbows with your ass in the air, then splits you open. It doesn’t take long before your hips start to bruise.

“Wait wait-“ König hears faintly, but he knows that’s far from what you want. He was correct because you cum immediately after. He feeds off the sight of your ass bouncing and rippling off him. His only responses are grunts.

“It’s what you wanted right,” his accent still thick and releasing words he wouldn’t even think of saying regularly, “you waited all day for this?”

Now deep in you and the ecstasy, it’s like you’ve switched roles. He technically was edging himself too. He was rock hard and heavy through his pants, all at your pretty voice and begs.

Soon apologies start flying out of his mouth, you being almost too lost in the euphoria to hear them at all. “Liebling, you feel so good-I’m not sure if I can stop now.”

“Kö you’re gonna-“ is all that comes out in your short breaths.

He replies, “I won’t, I won’t liebe,” as if he knows what you’re going to say, even though he doesn’t. He’s not thinking about much right now. As if to make what you were going to say worse, he lifts your shoulders and grabs your breasts to hold you up and crane you back, your hair falling between the two of you and your head to his neck.

The new position calls for a different spot inside of you and he’s lucky he hasn’t short circuited.

“…break me…half,” is all he heard. He’s too lost at your slick cunt gripping him tight, to hear the sniffles. He does look down though, and spots a tear about to fall down the path of the others. The only reason it doesn’t is because you’re basically upside down.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can say, and despite how sweet he is, it doesn’t sound genuine. Especially not after his hips chase into your entrance like it’s heaven.

“König, cum, again,” you choke out beside a sob, but König is in too much pleasure to feel bad.

“Huh,” he questions. It doesn’t come out as such; more like he’s physically present but isn’t actually asking.

“I’m cumming,” you repeat, and not long after do you hiccup.

There’s a second of silence, then, “I know,” he glances down in pity and bliss. “Your smile is hard to beat but this is far better.”

He never thought he’d like to see you cry, which he doesn’t, but sexually seems to be a different story. They were steaming now, just before your eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, and tighten around him, eliciting a deep groan.