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#people always think i’m lying but i’m serious
communistkenobi · 20 hours
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in that post abt the gender unicorn graphic, in the comments the idea of the “split attraction model” is brought up and you say you dont want to litigate that. however, im really curious what your opinion is bc i have some ideas abt it too. i feel like its sort of an incomplete analysis? like, people feel different ways about others and that cant really be flattened into like two modes of attraction. but i personally would call myself aromantic and bisexual so obviously i have some level of investment of the idea. anyways i just ask because in general i find your analysis and opinions compelling
thank you! re: this graphic
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My issue with splitting “physical attraction” and “emotional attraction” is that it does the same naturalising trick that the chromosomes-as-the-symbol-of-sex does - by splitting the emotional from the physical, this implies that physical attraction is natural, without emotion, and by the same token that emotion can exist completely detached from the physical body of the person you emotionally desire. Like I just don’t think this is true! For example, the idea of “casual sex,” ie sex that is devoid of emotion/emotional investment, is a social construction, it is a sexual act that is being contrasted against societal norms of “serious sex” or “invested sex” or whatever you want to call it - sex that is being done in the context of a monogamous, married relationship, or an otherwise exclusive long-term one. the base social unit of much of western society is the nuclear family, and the nuclear family is “ideally” produced by monogamous, cis-heterosexual, racially homogeneous reproductive sex. That is the norm by which all other sexual behaviour and activity is judged by.
and to be clear I’m not using “emotional” in an idealistic or moral sense, I am not using it as a shorthand for romantic feelings, I am purposefully using the language the graphic is using - I mean any emotion. Like just to be super clear, I’m not suggesting that people who have casual sex all secretly love the people they fuck, or that sex has to always be a serious emotional endeavour, or that people who do not feel sexual attraction to the people they have romantic feelings for are secretly lying, but that I don’t think sex is something that can be devoid of emotionality entirely. Like I think we are engaging in this Cartesian body/mind dualism where the physical acts we perform are somehow wholly separate from our emotional states. Pleasure has an emotional component to it, I don’t know how to articulate my experiences with pleasure that do not involve some level of emotionality, and emotionality has a physical character to it. Like in fact I think this graphic is treating emotions as ideal states - it reminds me of like old misogynistic psychological theory that described rationality as an absence of emotion, that to engage in rationality is to move away from emotion. It treats rationality as “out there,” objective, natural, detached from social influence, and emotion as “in here,” in our hearts, ruled by the social. And this distinction is made on the idea that the social world is detached from the physical world, which is pure idealism.
this is not a dismissal or denial of anyone who feels a disconnect between their sexual and romantic desires, such as asexual or aromantic people - while I am neither of those things, I have experienced intense physical desire for the person I’m fucking while actively dissociating during sex as a result of dysphoria/heteronormativity/etc etc. by the same token I have also felt emotionally compelled to be physically attracted to someone without actually feeling physical desire. These are both emotional states that were in conflict with my physical desires, or rather my physical desires as I understood them at the time. our ability to interpret and understand our desires is itself social! otherwise heteronormativity wouldn’t be a thing. We don’t have unmediated, unemotional access to physical desire, which I think this graphic is arguing, intentionally or not.
so having complicated, contradictory, disconnected, or otherwise ‘non-normative’ relationships to our emotional states vis a vis physical desire is obviously very real, and the reason they are real is because physical desire is also socially mediated and constructed. What and who we find attractive, why types of bodies, physical and character traits, etc are attractive to us are all part of (joker voice) society.
now, idk how you easily communicate this in graphic format. perhaps these things are unsuited to the medium of easily digestible graphics, or perhaps I’m limited in my imagination. either way I don’t think bifurcating emotional-desire-as-social and physical-desire-as-natural is particularly helpful
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begaycommittreason · 1 month
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out of context things heard in wayne manor:
bruce: i understand, but pretending you cooked jerry the turkey is not a proportionate response to damian calling you a peasant again
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jason: look there’s a right way and a wrong way to make food. there’s also the bruce way, which is the wrong way except faster and worse
duke: *frantically scribbling notes*
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tim: do you think our relationship was kinda like incest now?
steph, horrified: never open your mouth in my presence again timothy
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dick: so then he’s like—guys. guys are you seriously signing about me in front of my face. i learned it too—hey i do NOT have a butt chin take that back—
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damian: i don’t understand, why does he wear such a ridiculous hat? is it like that margaret poppins woman grayson showed me?
tim, who watched the live action cat in the hat too much as a kid and is about to violently infodump: well you see-
dick: oh god it’s too late
jason: yeah the brats on his own for this one i’m not fucking dealing with that again
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bruce: are you lying?
tim: always. anyway, like i was saying—
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steph: hey what’s up with you and all the redheads
dick: …i’m not discussing this with you
steph, starting to chase him: gingervitus is a serious affliction! you cant run from this
dick, sprinting away: yes the fuck i can
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duke: so is anyone gonna talk about the elephant in the room…
dick:
dick: look i was feeling sentimental and zitka jr. really isn’t any trouble
damian: she is magnificent
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tim: so i dropped out and
duke: wait we can drop out of high school??!!?
bruce: NO.
duke: please bruce ap biology is beating my ass right now
jason: nah tim just got to drop cause bruce was dead and he’s a loser. the real problem is what you’re reading in ap lit right now, because i have thoughts on that curriculum—
duke: i’m not even gonna use half that material in the real world
tim: actually most of our villains have PhDs so their plans are based on pretty real science
duke: not helping timothy
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cass, signing: why are brothers on the ceiling?
jason: tims in timeout from working on his caseload
cass, still confused: yes but why taped to the ceiling
duke: listen if you know a better way of restraining his psycho ass then i’m all ears
cass: and damian?
jason: oh he saw this as free range target practice so he had to go up there too
cass: they are plotting revenge up there
duke: think of it as brotherly bonding
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damian: it’s not my fault he got in the way
bruce: you threw an eclair at lex luthor
damian: i was aiming for drake
tim: bruce we can’t take him anywhere
dick, holding back laughter: timmy you paid four separate people to come to the gala solely to ask lex if they could use his head to see if they had something in their teeth
tim: you have no proof that was me
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duke: look steph, it’s not that we don’t want to help with this
jason: i don’t want to help
duke: it’s more that i don’t think we can physically fit that many people in a shopping cart, and your whole plan kind of hinges on that
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alfred: i’m not mad, just disappointed in you.
every batkid, near tears: sorry alfred
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jason: HE HAD DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY AS THE FUCKING WHAT—
bruce: listen—
tim, mouth full and brain empty: the ambassador to iran. crazy right?
dick: tim please
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togenabi · 7 months
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pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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nadvs · 1 month
Text
bittersweet (one-shot)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary rafe both loves and hates that you’re his sister’s best friend. he gets to see you all the time, but it’s a constant reminder of what he can’t have… until one night, when his jealousy takes over and he can’t keep himself from you any longer.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe wonders if you know that he can hear you. It’s just false hope, but maybe you’re trying to make him jealous.
You’re in the bathroom getting ready for tonight’s party with Sarah, your pretty laugh reverberating through him as if he’s right next to you.
But he’s not. He’s never been as close to you as he would like to be.
His bedroom is right next door, where he’s sitting in bed, wasting time scrolling on his phone, eavesdropping.
“You’re lying,” Sarah says.
“I’m dead serious,” you reply. “I’ll read it to you.”
Rafe overhears you reading out a text you got from your ex last night… he loves you, he misses you, he shouldn’t have ever broken up with you.
He remembers seeing you in tears a few weeks ago when you visited his sister. Admittedly, he lingered by Sarah’s closed door, hearing you sniffle through your words about how he had dumped you out of no where.
It made his blood boil knowing someone did that to you. But like always, he pretended like you have no effect on him, later passing you by in the hallway without a single word exchanged.
“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Sarah asks after you finish reading the message.
“No way,” you reply. This makes Rafe’s heart feel a little lighter. Until he hears your next words. “I hope that guy I was talking to last weekend shows up tonight.”
Rafe fucking hates hearing you talking about guys you like. His crush on you is too big to not let it rattle him. And tonight, he might have to watch you flirt with someone that’s not him in his own fucking house?
He can’t take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to see you standing by the mirror, your makeup halfway done.
“Do you have to be so loud?” Rafe snaps.
The only way he can talk to you without throwing any flags up is by being a dick. And admittedly, it kind of feels good getting his sexual frustration over you out like this, even though it’s severely misguided.
Sarah only rolls her eyes, having fully resorted to ignoring him at this point, but you smile at him in that way that makes his heart jump.
“Okay, grumpy,” you laugh. You’re in baggy sweats and big t-shirt and still manage to look fucking stunning. “You’re one to talk.”
Rafe knows you’re referring to the many fights of his that you’ve witnessed, both with his family and with people at parties.
He hates that your smile and your teasing make him want you even more.
He scowls at you but before he steps away, his eyes linger on you a little longer than you think they should. Wishful thinking, you tell yourself. You gave up on the fantasy that Rafe will look at you as anything more than his sister’s annoying best friend a long time ago.
“Sorry,” Sarah says, apologizing on behalf of her brother like always.
“Don’t worry about it,” he hears you respond. “I know what he’s like.”
Rafe shuts his door. What he’s like. You don’t fucking know what he’s like at all.
If you knew that you’re his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, you’d realize he’s so fucking grumpy because he doesn’t get to talk to you how he wants to. Or touch you how he wants to.
He’ll have to avoid you at his party tonight. He’s not interested in seeing you flirt with some jackass.
That night, Rafe is halfway into a beer, zoning out of the conversation his friends are having around him.
You’re on the other side of the room, arm linked with Sarah’s. You’ve changed out of your comfortable clothes, wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Man, what he’d do to you if he had the chance.
But he knows he doesn’t. You’ve seen him at his worst. Who in their right mind would want him?
As you chat with Sarah, your eyes drift to Rafe every so often. You can’t help it.
There’s something about his presence that’s so magnetic and dominant. And why is it when he’s wearing his hat backwards like that, your stomach does somersaults?
You need to get your mind off of him. It’s never gonna happen.
Then your eyes land on your ex-boyfriend, who just entered the room.
Rafe watches your face drop and your eyes lose their light. You turn to look at Sarah, whispering something to her, then disappear into the crowd. When he realizes your idiot of an ex just showed up, it takes everything in him not to crush the solo cup he’s holding.
He told himself he’d avoid you. He needs to keep his own promise.
Later in the night, you’re filling up your cup at the keg when you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“Don’t hog it,” he says, a joking tone to his voice. You turn to see your ex standing behind you. You only furrow your brows, in disbelief that he thinks he can speak to you so casually.
You don’t respond and he awkwardly shuffles in place.
“Did you get my text?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say. It’s been weeks, but being with him again brings it all back, the way he told you he doesn’t see a future with you anymore. Instead of sorrow, though, you just feel anger.
“Can you just… can you give me five minutes?” he asks.
“Leave me alone,” you tell him. Rafe appears behind your ex, his blue eyes fixed on you. He’s angry like he always is, his jaw clenched.
You figure he’s annoyed that you’re using the keg when he wants to top up his own drink.
“I don’t get why we can’t just-” he continues, but is interrupted.
“She said to leave her alone,” Rafe mutters. Your ex turns around to face him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“This is my house.” Rafe has to duck to talk to him. The image stirs something in you. “Either stop bothering her or get the fuck out.”
Your ex turns to look at you, shaking his head in confusion.
“This your new boyfriend?” he asks, voice thick with envy.
“What? No,” you reply. The way you look almost appalled by the prospect makes Rafe feel like his heart is being wrung out.
You almost laugh. As if Rafe would want you.
Your ex turns to face Rafe again. In the tension of the moment, you feel a lump form in your throat. Anger from what your ex did to you. Embarrassment that he won’t leave you alone. Excitement that Rafe is defending you, followed by a sharp sadness that he’ll never see you the way you see him.
Rafe is about to swing at him. But then he sees the look on your face and his anger dissolves.
“Fuck off,” Rafe says sternly.
Your ex looks at you incredulously. You’re sure he knows Rafe would take him down in a second.
When he walks away, leaving you and Rafe just a foot apart, you flatten your lips as you look up at him.
“Thanks,” you say quietly. You never thought you’d thank him for anything.
Rafe’s eyes soften when he realizes your eyes are wet with the threat of tears. You feel mortified to be crying in front of him, so you leave your drink on the table behind you and brush past him, stalking upstairs to the same bathroom you did your makeup in.
Your hands grip the counter as you look at your reflection. You managed to swallow down your tears, determined to have a good night.
Three knocks thud against the door.
“Someone’s in here!” you say, weak voice echoing through the small room.
“It’s Rafe,” you hear.
Your heart leaps. What the hell could he have to say to you?
You swing open the door to meet his gaze. He’s wearing an expression you haven’t seen before.
Rafe can’t fucking take it anymore. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, boxing you in between his body and the wall. His arms are crossed to keep himself from touching you.
“Why were you with him?” he demands.
“What?” you ask. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. This is Rafe. Mad is his default setting.
“He’s obviously a fucking idiot,” he snaps. “And an asshole.” You’re not sure if this is some cruel display of annoyance, but you don’t have the patience for it.
Still, a part of you is buzzing to be alone with him.
“Why are you giving me shit right now?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. He brings his hand up to yours, pushing it away from your face.
It’s the first time his skin has ever touched yours.
“Why were you with him?” Rafe repeats. He’s so close to you that you can smell him. His aroma is earthy, like a comforting campfire. But nothing about him is warm. Never has been.
“How do you even know…” you mumble in confusion. You realize you have no clue how he knows that the guy he almost fought downstairs was your ex. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”
“I heard you,” he says. “I heard you crying over him. Why were you with someone who said that shit to you?”
Rafe recalls the way you told his sister that your ex called you names during your last fight. It made him sick.
You freeze for a moment. He heard you? Why the hell would he care to listen?
“Well, sorry I was being loud,” you say, still a little bitter about how he talked to you earlier tonight even though you had laughed it off in front of him. “Can you just… give me a break? It’s been a shitty night. I don’t need you judging me on top of it.”
“God, that’s…” Rafe steps back, taking off his hat just to smooth his hair back and put it back on again. “I’m not judging you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
A few heavy, tense seconds pass between you. Rafe is looking down at you, at how pretty you are, at how badly you need to be appreciated.
Then he leans down to press his lips against yours.
You were wrong. Rafe does have warmth to him. He’s nothing but warmth right now. The way his hot mouth captures yours and the way his hands cradle your cheeks fill you with need and happiness and a whirling sensation of unsteadiness.
Is this actually happening?
Rafe’s whole body buzzes when you kiss him back, your hands hooking up around his arms, palms on his shoulder blades. He’s pressed up against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue running over yours.
He wasn’t annoyed. He was jealous. You feel dizzy from the revelation.
Your back is flush against the wall, Rafe’s body curved against yours. He bites on your bottom lip for a second, sending an arousing pinch of pain through you, as if he’s punishing you for making him yearn for you.
The contradiction between your mind and your body is jarring - you thought he was annoyed by you, but he’s kissing you like he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t kiss you before.
Tasting and touching you like this makes Rafe harden, and he perches his hips back, unsure if this is too much for you. When your hands slide down to roughly pull his hips back towards you, he doesn’t need any more signals. You want him just as bad and it makes every inch of his skin burn.
Rafe shifts back, forehead pressed against yours, unable to open his eyes for a second.
“I need…” His voice is hoarse. He can’t do it like this. Not with you against a wall in the bathroom. “Let’s go to my room.”
You nod and follow him, letting him lead you onto his bed.
Your eyelashes overlap as Rafe hovers over you in his dark room, kissing you again. Tucked away from the crowds and music downstairs, all you can hear is the sounds of your lips smacking together and his fast breaths.
You spread your knees apart so he can settle between your legs. Desire consumes you as he grinds his cock against you. The sensation awakens the need you’ve had for him for so long but always told yourself you’re not allowed to feel.
You can’t help but feel a gnawing fear that this is just a meaningless encounter to him. You’re not equipped to deal with being just a piece of ass to Rafe. Sex with him will change everything. It needs to be worth it.
You gently push against his chest and worry floods through Rafe that he did something to make you uncomfortable.
He’s looking down at you in the shadows of his bedroom, his breaths shallow and fast.
“We shouldn’t…” you begin, and he nods quickly, arms straightening to sit up. Shit. He fucked up by kissing you. He’s not worth the risk to you.
But again, you pull him back in, this time with your hands cupped on his shoulders.
“Rafe, wait,” you breathe. “I’m saying… we shouldn’t if you don’t…” You take a beat to gain some courage. “I like you. For real. I’m not doing this if I’m just a hook-up to you.”
Rafe didn’t realize how heavy his heart sat in his chest until he hears you say that. He looks at you with wonder.
“You’re not just a hook-up,” he says, as if it’s obvious to you. “I like you so fucking much. I have for so long.”
“You mean it?” you ask. You realize this man has the power to break your heart.
He kisses you like you’re so damn delicate, like you could break in a second. The way you just said that, the edge and fragility of your voice, makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. You feel it, too. It’s not just him.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean it.”
Your lips meet again with even more heat this time. He grinds against you with more pressure than before, his erection hard and big.
The fact that you’re the reason he’s so turned on is unreal.
Rafe’s hands dip under the hemline of your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs. You tilt your hips up off the bed to offer him the space to pull your dress up. He immediately takes the invitation, watching you in awe as the fabric slides over your chest, your shoulders, finally off your body.
His open mouth attaches to the flesh of your breast, kissing and sucking. He pulls the cup of your bra down to close his lips over your nipple. The sensation makes you tremble and moan.
Your pretty sounds are better than anything he has ever heard.
His tongue flicks and wriggles over your nipple, then he moves to your other breast, eager to give all of you the attention you deserve.
“Let me eat you out,” he stammers. “Please.”
“Yes,” you whisper.
For so long. He said that he’s liked you for so long. Your mind is rustling with excitement and disbelief, your thoughts tangling together as you think back to every time he looked at you. Every time he spoke to you.
It’s crazy to think you can now reframe all those memories, knowing what you know now.
Rafe pulls your panties down and wishes his lights weren’t off so he could see you better. But what he does see in the dimness confirms what he always knew - that every part of you is beautiful.
You feel his fingers spread you apart, the cool air pressing against your core. The image makes his stomach numb with infatuation.
“Fuck,” he says, nearly whining. “Fuck… I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could do this.”
“Me, too,” you admit breathlessly. “I never thought you… wanted me.”
“Of course I do,” he half-chuckles. He regrets ever making you feel like you’re not desirable. You’re perfect.
Rafe dips his head. You’re like sugar on his tongue. You gasp when he presses his mouth against your clit. He can’t believe how much arousal is pooling between your legs as he starts to lap at you.
“You’re so wet for me,” he praises, planting a kiss on your cunt. His tongue twists and curls and when it dips inside of you, you feel like you’re on another planet.
He readjusts his hands to spread you even wider, wanting to pamper every fucking inch of you.
You bunch his hat between your fingers and throw it off of him to feel his hair. You dreamed of touching his hair for so damn long. You can’t help but tug at his roots as he gifts you with the best feeling you’ve ever had.
The thick, wet sounds of him slurping fill you with bliss. His mouth is giving you so much damn pleasure, the same mouth that would snap at you and frown at you and make you wonder why he disliked you so much.
It was all an act. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
You felt how big he is when he was grinding against you. You need him to fuck you. Now.
“Rafe,” you moan.
“Hmm?” he says, mouth still closed around your clit, sending a vibration through you.
“Get inside me,” you whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”
His heart is thrumming with exhilaration. He still can’t believe that you want him.
He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans with such fever that you smile in endearment. He’s moving like you’ll change your mind or come to your senses or something.
He sits over you on his knees, holding his cock at the base. It’s big and curved so fucking perfectly that you start to ache for him even more.
This will change everything and you’re so glad it will.
Rafe slowly drops to rest on his elbow on top of you, his other hand guiding him into your soaked entrance. You shudder in near unison as he pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.
“Damn,” he groans, unrestrained. “You feel so fucking good.”
“What you expected?” you ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone.
“Baby,” he laughs. The nickname makes your body tingle. “Even better.”
He pulls back slowly, then buries into you again, a deep, languid exhale leaving his lips. He ducks to kiss you as he fucks you slowly and lovingly, stretching you out, your chests pressed together.
His pace begins to quicken, the curve of his cock hitting deep inside you so perfectly.
“Can I go harder?” he asks against your mouth.
“As hard as you can,” you request. He shudders as he pulls back and slams into you with all his force. Your body jolts, his bed squeaking.
“Be mine,” he says between thrusts. “I need you to be mine.”
“I am,” you say. “I always was.”
This sends him over the edge. He’s about to cum, but he needs to get you there first.
To your disappointment, he pulls out, but when his mouth is back on you and his fingers are scissoring into you, you lift your feet off the bed and throw your head back.
Your walls start to flutter around him as you cum and he quickly shifts to stuff his cock back into you so you’ll finish around him. He feels his gut tighten and he explodes into you with a string of oh, fuck’s, your pussy squeezing around him in pulses as he spasms through his orgasm.
Rafe loves the way your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He feels so needed by you. It’s like a drug.
He collapses on top of you, holding himself up the best he can so not to crush you.
You’re both sweaty and breathless and smiling. He dips his head to press his warm cheek against yours as you remain wrapped up in each other.
“So was I,” he mutters against your ear.
“What?” you breathe, your legs numb from pleasure.
“I was always yours, too,” he says. He kisses the side of your neck, wishing he could never leave this moment. You let out a sweet laugh, squeezing his big, hard body tighter.
He’s never going to make you doubt if he really likes you ever again. He’s sure of it. He silently vows it as he kisses your neck countless more times.
inspired by this anon! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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taexoxosgf · 4 months
Text
DO IT AGAIN
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PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader
WORDS 3.7k
SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.
WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie
NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol
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“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”
You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”
He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.
“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.
“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.
You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.
“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.
You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.
“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.
“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”
“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.
“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.
“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.
​​"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.
“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.
You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”
“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.
“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”
Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”
“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.
“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.
“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”
He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”
“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.
“You know what, fuck it.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.
He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”
“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.
“I”m go-”
Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.
You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.
“Jisung, what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.
“Jisung.”
“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.
Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.
“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.
“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.
“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.
“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.
You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”
He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”
You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”
“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”
Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”
“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.
“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.
Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”
It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”
The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.
You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.
He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.
"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."
Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.
He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.
When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.
He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.
Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.
“Only if you like to dominate.”
The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.
“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.
“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”
“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.
“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.
Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.
He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.
“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”
Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.
The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.
“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.
“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.
You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.
The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.
“P-please,” you beg.
At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.
“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.
As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."
“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.
You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”
It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.
His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.
“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.
“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.
“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.
“Do you have a condom in your room?”
“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.
And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.
“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”
You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.
“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.
The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”
Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”
“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.
“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.
It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.
“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.
“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.
“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.
You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”
Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”
You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.
You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”
“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
2K notes · View notes
weirdkpopgirl · 27 days
Text
Stealing Kisses | Dream Reaction #14
Reaction: When their gf steals a kiss from them
Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some
Warnings: insecure thoughts, kinda suggestive, light making out in Jaemin's, kissing (obviously lol)
Word Count: ~3.1k
Author's Note: This idea came to me last week I think, and I thought it'd be fun to write. I think you guys like this type of stuff too lol. It was also nice to write something sweet and fluffy, a break from my recent stuff. Hope you all like it and thank you for reading ^ ^
P.S. I'm currently have a few fics I'm working on. But I'm going to try writing some shorter stories for the members and group things to fill up my second masterlist.
~ ~ ~
mark
The two of you were lying side by side on his bed, your gazes fixed on the ceiling. Mark was sharing his late-night thoughts, and you were listening attentively. Nights like these were a regular occurrence, mostly because Mark often had something weighing on his mind. Though it was usually just him recounting his busy day, tonight things seemed to carry a more serious tone.
“Sometimes, I’m just really not satisfied with myself,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Like so many people are relying on me— with the company, 127 and Dream. Then there are the fans too, I don’t want to fail them. But no matter how much time and energy I put in, it’s not enough.”
You carefully processed your boyfriend’s concerns, trying to put yourself in his shoes. It was so easy to say he was just overthinking and shouldn’t worry so much. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, given that you faced similar struggles. Those dismissive words weren’t what either of you needed to hear. Mark was undoubtedly the most hardworking person you knew, but you understood all too well the feeling of never quite doing enough.
Before speaking this time, you opted for a different approach of consolation. You shifted around to gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. With closed eyes, you leaned in to kiss him softly. Your lips moved slowly against his, hoping he could feel the comfort of your touch. Soon enough, Mark’s hand rested comfortably on your back, reciprocating the affection.
You stifled a light giggle as you pulled away, catching his slightly confused expression. Offering a small smile you used your thumb to caress his cheek reassuringly.
“You’re doing great, Mark,” you whispered sincerely. “You might not think so at times, but I’m always so proud of you.”
And it was those words that caused water to gloss over Mark’s eyes. Then he was pulling you into a much-needed embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he mumbled, “Babe, I love you so much.”
Though you didn’t necessarily need to return the words for him to understand, you still said you loved him too. He deserved it, after all. He deserved every bit of love, understanding, and support. And you were more than willing to give it to him, wholeheartedly.
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renjun 
You emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly cut mango in your hand. Renjun was sitting at the table, fully absorbed in the watercolor painting in front of him. Seeing him use the paint set you got for his birthday brought a smile to your face. He was so engrossed in the activity that he almost didn’t hear you sit in the empty chair beside him.
Renjun momentarily glanced up from his artwork to greet you. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you replied quietly, carefully placing the plate of fruit on the table. The two of you shared a smile before his attention was on painting again.
For a moment, you paused to admire the way his focused expression softened his features, making him even more endearing in your eyes. You always found joy in watching your boyfriend immerse himself in the things he loved. Renjun consistently poured his heart and soul into everything he did, and that dedication was one of the many reasons your relationship flourished so beautifully. 
After a few minutes passed by of you silently observing the boy, you leaned into place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush followed. 
“What was that for?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity.
You simply shrugged in response before confessing, “Just thought you looked cute.”
Renjun’s soft chuckle was like honey for your ears, and you couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh is that so?” he teased, amusement twinkling in his eyes even as his gaze softened when he looked at you.
Now it was your turn to feel shy, heat naturally rushing to your face. Without a word, you reached for a slice of mango and lifted it to Renjun’s lips, quietly offering the yellow piece of fruit to him. Lucky for you, his eyes sparkled with fondness as he accepted the treat. 
However, he didn’t waste the chance to quickly steal a kiss from your lips, before taking a bite. Your eyes mirrored the surprise he had experienced earlier, and Renjun laughed now the tables had been turned. He savored the sweetness of the mango, just as he savored the sweet moment shared between the two of you.
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jeno 
You weren’t exactly expecting to return home to Jeno sprawled across your sofa. It was late at night, and you technically should have been back in your apartment much earlier. However, you got caught up in helping your friend rehearse for an audition and lost track of time. If you had known your boyfriend would be coming, you definitely would’ve gone home sooner.
 After quietly removing your shoes and shedding off your jacket, you carefully crossed the room to check the man resting on the couch. He looked so peaceful with his eyes blissfully shut and the pillow he held close to his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but frown, thinking about how he must’ve been exhausted from work. While he never complained, you usually saw through his facade.
With a barely audible sigh, you fetched a cozy blanket to drape over him and tucked it snugly around his sleeping form. Leaning down, your lips pressed to his forehead and let your lips linger for a moment before pulling away. You straightened up, ready to start your nightly routine before heading to bed yourself. However, you froze when a warm hand tugged at your wrist. 
“Don’t go,” he murmured, almost sounding like a child begging his mom not to leave. 
The unexpected sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized sheepishly, turning back to see him.
He shifted over a bit to give you some space, and you sat down beside him. Without thinking, your hand subconsciously moved to stroke his hair gently. He hummed at the sensation, appreciating any sort of affection from you.
“Don’t apologize. I liked it,” he said softly, leaning further into your touch. “Do you always kiss me when I’m asleep?”
“Sometimes,” you admitted quietly, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.
A small pout formed on his lips in response. “You should just kiss me when I’m awake so I can give you one back.”
His words would’ve sounded playful if they hadn’t been spoken in such a sulky tone. But of course, you sort of expected this reaction from Jeno. Chuckling softly, your embarrassment gradually began to melt away.
Moving your hand to caress his face, you casually said, “Well you can give me one now if you’d like.”
With your permission, Jeno happily sat up to pull you closer for a kiss that made your head spin. Nonetheless, it was a tender moment that left you both with silly smiles as you parted. Afterward, you took his hand in yours and suggested you both move to the bedroom so he could sleep more comfortably.
Later, as you cuddled up together in bed, Jeno smiled to himself as he felt a rush of love he felt for you. Even though it was past one a.m., he still found himself falling for you all over again.
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haechan 
To say the least, Haechan was a little restless just chilling in his apartment with you. Usually, he liked being at home, especially with your company. But the original plan for today was to have a lovely date at Han River, which was forfeited due to the ongoing thunderstorm outside. He regretted not looking at the weather forecast beforehand.
So to cure his self-proclaimed “boredom,” Haechan proposed the idea of playing the pepero game. At first, you tried to decline, knowing that you’d be signing up for endless teasing and blushing on your part. That didn’t sound very fun to you.
“Oh come on, babe!” he pleaded, shaking the pepero box. “I won’t be annoying this time, promise.”
Knowing he was going to keep whining until you agreed, you reluctantly set aside the book you were using to ignore him. “Ugh, fine. But just this once!” you conceded, holding your pointer finger up as a warning.
Haechan grinned triumphantly as he tore open the bag inside the box to retrieve a Pepero stick. He moved to where you were sitting on the couch and lifted the chocolate-covered treat to your lips, gesturing to open it. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly complied and took the stick with your teeth. Haechan took hold of the other end, his eyes already sparkling with mischief.
As the two of you started nibbling, Haechan promptly contradicted his earlier promise of not being annoying. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you hesitated after he took the next bite, leaving only a few centimeters left. No matter how often you had been in close proximity with your boyfriend, there was something uniquely captivating about the way his warm tan skin was adorned with scattered moles, and how you could get lost in his deep brown eyes. Seeing those features up close always stirred a weirdly fluttery sensation in your heart.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy already, (Y/n),” he teased, his words slightly muffled by the long biscuit between his teeth. You merely glared at him in response, unwilling to admit how easily you were influenced by him.
To rebel, you decided to make a bold move of your own this time. Despite your racing heart, you seized the opportunity and bit the remaining piece, but not without planting a swift kiss on his lips. Haechan froze for a moment as you pulled away. A laugh escaped when you saw that he was too stunned to speak. Well, that was one way to shut him up.
Feigning innocence, you asked, “That’s what you wanted, am I wrong?”
It didn’t take long for a grin to spread across the boy’s lips. The initial shock of your unexpected move kiss was replaced by a look of impressed amusement. In the next moment, his right arm encircled your waist, drawing you close once more. You didn’t even have time to blush before his lips began to explore every exposed inch of your skin.
“You’re so bad for me,” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tangling your hair. “But I love it.”
You giggled, surrendering to the warmth of his affection. Maybe you’d be more inclined to indulge in games with Haechan now, knowing they’d end up like this.
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jaemin
In the solace of his apartment, Jaemin observed you interact with his cats in the living room. Usually, he’d be cooing and snapping a hundred pictures of you and his children. However, he wasn’t very amused at the moment.
Na Jaemin never thought he’d be jealous of his babies until he saw Luke rubbing against your leg and hopping into your lap. Your giggly response and the way you tenderly stroked your fingers through the feline’s soft white hair, certainly didn’t make him feel any better. Although he loved his pets dearly, seeing them snuggle up to you so easily made him feel a bit envious. 
“Hmmph, it seems like you’ve become more fond of Luke than your own boyfriend,” he scoffed, not even bothering to hide it. 
You looked up, noticing how he was resting his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the couch’s armrest. His body language fully displayed his discontent, and you tried not to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you returned Luke to his siblings and tugged the collar of Jaemin’s hoodie to pull him in for a sweet kiss. 
Any negative feelings dissipated instantly as his heart fluttered at the touch of your lips against his. Warmth spread through him like wildfire. But before he could reciprocate the kiss, you pulled away with a playful glint in your eyes.
“Does that make you happy?” you teased, gently pushing him back to give yourself some space.
Adoration shined over Jaemin’s eyes as he grinned. “Hm, I think another one would make me even happier,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
Before you could even respond this time, Jaemin was already leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent sparks flying between you. One of his hands rested on the nape of your neck, allowing him to press his lips harder against yours, while the other was placed firmly on your waist. Though you were initially caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, you decided to enjoy this moment of intimacy.
As you melted into each other’s arms, Jaemin was reminded once again of just how amazing it felt to be loved by you. Honestly, if he could have one wish, he’d probably wish to kiss you forever.
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chenle 
The steaming pot of oxtail soup stared up at you, and you lowered the heat to let it simmer some more. It was your first time cooking the Chinese soup. But recalling how your mom used to make it when you were younger, figuring it on your own hadn’t been too difficult. Although you were mostly confident in your culinary skills, you still wanted to be sure.
“Lele, can you come here for a sec?” you called out to your boyfriend who was probably playing some mobile game in the living room. 
You could hear rustling sounds, and soon the sound of slippers padding against the wooden floor reached your ears.  “Smells good babe,” he said, shuffling over to your side. 
Something about seeing Chenle waddle into the kitchen, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his messy hair, made your heart strangely beat faster. But instead of ignoring that feeling like you usually did, you decided to act on it this time.
After dipping a spoon in the red broth, you raised the utensil to his mouth. “Taste it for me.”
Chenle complied, allowing you to feed him some of the soup. You tried to suppress a laugh as a smug yet impressed expression appeared on his face. However, before he could give you his feedback, you swiftly leaned in to give him a peck. 
The male froze for a moment at your actions. You chuckled softly and hugged his waist, as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened in surprise before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. A part of him wanted to tease you for stepping out of your shy image, but he also found himself enjoying it a little too much. 
“Did you like it?” you asked, glancing up at him innocently.
Chenle’s cocky grin widened as he leaned in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as he used his pointer finger to gently tilt your chin upward. “Wait, let me taste it again to just be sure,” he teased.
It didn’t take much for you to understand that he was not talking about the food. You simply smiled as his lips brushed against yours before he went all in. Shivers danced down your spine as you melted into the electrifying kiss. By the time you finally pulled apart, Chenle was smiling like an idiot.
“Hm, that was delicious,” he breathed, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. Even though you had started it, his comment was unnecessary in your opinion. Was he trying to kill you?
Trying to recover from your now flustered state, you returned your attention to the brewing pot on the stove. Chenle’s laugh rang through your ears, and then he was squeezing you into a backhug. It was those types of moments that reassured you that being with Chenle could never be boring.
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jisung 
Amidst the dark sky, the street lamps cast a soft, golden glow as you walked back to your apartment. Jisung strolled beside you, holding your hand securely. Occasionally, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how tonight had been another lovely date, filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances that spoke volumes without a single word.
As you neared your apartment building, you felt Jisung’s fingers intertwined with yours tighten. A sense of reluctance washed over him, realizing that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye tonight yet. Your presence always brought Jisung a sense of warmth that made him the happiest when you were together. He wanted to experience that just a little while longer.
Pausing in front of your door, your eyes widened when you were pulled into a tight embrace. Jisung seemed clingier than usual this evening, but you honestly couldn’t complain. You returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your nose press against the oversized hoodie he was wearing. The scent of the perfume Renjun recently bought for him filled your senses. It wasn’t bad, you thought to yourself.
“I miss you already,” Jisung murmured, his chin relaxing against your head. 
The soft longing in his voice left your heart melting. These were the types of words you expected to read in texts from Jisung. So hearing them in person was even more touching. A smile tugged on your lips and you pulled away slightly to glance around, ensuring there were no cameras around. Once you confirmed there were no prying eyes that might stir trouble for either of you, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to Jisung’s lips.
He blinked in surprise, heat immediately rushing to his cheeks as the unexpected affection registered through his mind. Any kiss from you always made his heart flutter and left him wearing a shy smile. Nonetheless, witnessing the fondness in your eyes as you were blushing too was irresistible for Jisung.
Chuckling he moved his hand to gently pat your head. “Cute.”
You blushed a little at his words and squeezed in one last hug before he reluctantly released you to head inside. 
“I love you, Ji,” you said quietly, glancing back one last time to ensure he heard you. He exhaled shakily and said he loved you more.
There was an unspoken sadness shared between you, both feeling the weight of the parting. The two of you were uncertain of when or where you’d meet again. However, you found comfort in the knowledge that the love you had with Jisung was too strong to let too much time pass without seeing each other. In the meantime, you would cherish those precious memories together.
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previous masterlist -> new masterlist
744 notes · View notes
lisired · 1 month
Text
dress code
Tumblr media
pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader
genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)
summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?
word count: 7.4k
a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
“Who are you thinking about?”
You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.
Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.
Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.
The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.
“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”
Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”
You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.
“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”
Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”
“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”
“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”
There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.
“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”
Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.
With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”
Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”
“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”
Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”
“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.
Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”
Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.
You knew how to complement your beauty as well.
As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.
Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.
Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.
“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”
“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.
Class was typical which was fine, you expected no  prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.
As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.
You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.
Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.
Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.
Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.
“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”
That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.
“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.
Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”
One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.
“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.
When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.
For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.
There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.
“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.
Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”
Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”
“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.
Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.
“Holy shit,” you winced.
Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”
“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”
You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.
When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.
Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.
Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.
That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.
Nakamoto Yuta.
When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.
And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.
When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.
“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.
You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”
He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”
That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.
“The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Water, please.”
Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.
Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.
“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”
You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”
In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.
The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires. 
Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”
The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.
Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”
Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.
You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.
In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.
If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.
But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.
You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.
Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.
The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.
You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”
At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.
“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.
Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.
Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.
Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”
Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.
Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”
“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.
You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.
“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”
That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.
The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.
“Yes, sir.”
“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.
You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I…, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”
“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”
You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.
“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”
It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.
“Please,” you whimpered.
Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”
“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”
That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.
Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”
You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.
Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.
When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”
Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.
And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.
Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.
“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”
Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”
“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”
Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.
This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.
“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.
His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.
Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.
Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.
“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.
Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.
It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.
Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.
“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.
Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.
When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.
Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”
There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.
“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”
He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”
“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”
“Good. Come early.”
“How early?”
“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.
The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.
Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.
You couldn’t fucking wait.
Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.
You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.
Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.
The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.
You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”
“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”
Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.
“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”
There was no way you were strong enough for this.
Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.
To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.
Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.
Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.
“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”
Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.
It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.
Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.
And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.
Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.
And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.
There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn’t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.
That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.
“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.
Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.
“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”
As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.
It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.
Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.
All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.
You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.
Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”
In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.
The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.
“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”
When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.
He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.
“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.
Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”
Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.
Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.
And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.
It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.
After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.
You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”
“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.
“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”
It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.
“Whatever you want, baby girl.”
Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.
In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.
You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.
“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.
Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”
Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”
“Say it again.”
���Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”
Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”
Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.
“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.
“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.
“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.
Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”
The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.
Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”
“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.
He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.
“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”
Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.
And in all honesty, you were fine with that.
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0deadly-nightshade0 · 3 months
Text
Broken Him
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summary - You change his mind
warning - mention of abuse! (not coryo)
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Coriolanus Snow would not marry for love, he wouldn’t allow himself to be so vulnerable, so weak.
Love makes people delusional and it once made him deluded.
Lucy gray
that name wrang in his head like an unstoppable fire alarm, his feelings angry, yet betrayed, sad? all he knew was that his firey feelings towards her made that fire alarm ring on and on.
So he married the person he cared the least for his.
His little wife.
His little wife that doted on him, that spent all her days, every minute, every second trying to please him.
He didn’t love her, he couldn’t,
Always stood at the door, waiting for him to come home, her pretty little pink 50s swing dress on, ballet flats adorned with bows, a row of pearls around her neck, resting gently over her collar bones.
She was happy.
She had to be.
There was no way, after marrying someone like him, much more attractive, higher rank, smarter.
A man who gave her anything her naïve little heart wanted.
A massive estate, bags, dresses and more.
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Coriolanus walked in, expecting to see his darling wife stood by the door.
Nobody.
I look of confusion crossing his face.
“Wife?”
He somewhat shouts.
He walks along to her bedroom, cracking the door open slowly.
There you were.
his brows furrowed as he watched you take a long drag of your cigarette.
Your mascara running down you cheeks.
like watercolour paint.
continuing to water down, and dry in streaks.
the ash on the end not flicked off.
a glass of red wine in your hand, much different from your usual light sweet alcoholic drink.
You looked a state.
“Something on your mind?” He asks walking in, sitting next to you on the window seat.
You seem startled, shocked at his presence.
“I’m fine” you respond flatly, the moonlight illuminating your sad face in a way that makes him feel something.
not good.
“I know when your lying” He smirks, his piercing blue eyes examining every part of you.
“I could say the same for you” You snap, though your voice isn’t loud, and it shows a hint of sadness in it.
Coriolanus looked surprised, his little wife being so? so rude to him.
His faced shifted to a serious one, his eyes narrowed a little.
“Watch your tongue, wife.”
He knew what this was about, his love for you.
he could feel you slipping away from him.
“We both knew what this was. I don’t need to love you for us to have a successful marriage”
you start to stare out the window.
“I don’t want a successful marriage, I want someone who loves me.”
He was like a deer in headlights.
and it all started to dawn on him.
his sadness earlier at you not being by the door.
seeing you sad.
he was falling for you.
and he couldn’t let himself.
“I-I can’t love you” It was more an admission of defeat than an answer to your want.
“I know you can’t, but it was cruel for you to choose me and leave me in the dark about that, you don’t know the life I’ve lived, and you don’t know how you’ve ended all my hopes”
‘Shit.’ you thought.
stupidly you had brought your past into this.
He almost looks confused.
“Why the hope of love? Don’t you understand it makes you weak? and vulnerable?”
You think for a moment, how to explain love to a person that wishes not to be loved.
“But you have been loved, had people around you love you, you’ve had many people love you, it doesn’t make you weak it makes you stronger, having constant people in your life who love you and are willing to do anything for you”
Coriolanus was trying to see what the disconnect between to the two of you was.
“That love is a weakness because love is also a vulnerability. The people who you love the most are also the ones who can hurt you the most. If I love someone fully with my whole heart they also have the potential to completely destory me”
Lucy gray. that name pinged in his head again.
“Tigris? would she do that? Grandma’am? would she do that? no. Whoever has hurt you before didn’t love you, atleast not strongly. that I can say with one hundred percent certainty.”
you look over at him, giving him a sad smile.
that you were correct about.
his walls felt like they were crumbiling down.
never had he viewed her with such a high opinion.
that was a fair assumption.
one he hadn’t made.
Coriolanus pauses, Tigris, his cousin, did love him. And he was never worried about her being someone who could hurt him, because she couldn’t.
It was one very rare time coriolanus had been beaten in a debate of words.
“How do I know you wouldn’t do the same?”
“Because I couldn’t, I’ve loved someone, and the way they treated me, made me vow to never hurt anyone that loves me.”
“to treat people the best I can”
She couldn’t?
“I would feel to guilty, but I can’t force you into loving me”
Coriolanus paused again. You sounded similar to himself but instead of vowing to treat people the best he could, he had instead vowed himself never to love.
You were alike in so many ways, yet complete opposites.
how was this innocent little woman doing this to him.
he felt vulnerable.
“Who hurt you?”
“My father, he was very physically abusive, and I albeit atupidly, still loved him, but I vowed never to hurt someone who loves me, to never break them like he broke me”
Coriolanus took in your words, he couldn’t Imagine what that was like, still putting other first after that.
so kind, so pretty, and slightly smart.
“Aren’t you afraid of love hurting you again?”
you had to think.
“Nobody will ever love me, I barely leave this estate, you don’t love me, and I have no friends”
He did that.
and he felt awful.
he wanted you to himself, even if he didn’t love you.
listening to her words.
Coriolanus looked at his wife for a moment, contemplating his choices.
His marriage felt superficial compared to everything else he had dealt with before.
He married her becuase she was easy, innocent, naïve.
he had broken her.
and she had broken him.
“Kiss me”
He blurts out.
“C-Coriolanus I can’t, I won’t push you to do that kind of stuff.”
You shake your head.
Coriolanus took notice of your refusal.
“I ordered you to kiss me, now kiss me”
he says.
you gingerly graze your hands against his cheeks, kissing him softly.
Coriolanus felt his entire body warm up, you were like the water that set out all his firey thoughts.
The entire world could burn to the ground around you both and he wouldn’t care.
Your lips, your hands, your face, your body, he flet like he was in heaven.
You had broken him, and he was glad.
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Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀
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vipwinnie · 7 months
Text
New boy
Mattheo Riddle x reader
Summary:a new boy arrives at hogwarts, he hits on you and mattheo is jealous
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You waited with your arms crossed sitting on a bench in the hall. It all started last week when Dumbledore summoned him to his office. This day Dumbledore announces the arrival of a new student. He therefore offers you to be his tutor during his integration. A proposal that you will accept. So this is how you find yourself here waiting for this new student. You were still in thought when the doors opened to reveal an unfamiliar face. He had neatly styled brown hair and piercing blue eyes, He was of average height, with an athletic build. He confidently enters the entrance hall, immediately attracting the attention of some students. He was followed closely by Professor Snape. Professor Snape beckons you to come closer. “Do you know why you are here,” he asked me in a serious tone. You nod. "This is Justin. Help him integrate and get his bearings at school." And he leaves you alone with the boy. “Hi, my name is Y/N,” you introduce yourself, wanting to make yourself friendly. But there only you in return was silence. Deciding to end this awkward moment, you continue “well I’ll show you around the school then” forcing a slight smile on you. "Hi beauty, my name is Justin, and I can't help but notice how lucky I was to come across a girl as beautiful as you" he replied with a little satisfied smile. “Um, thanks, I guess. But you know, bold compliments aren't really my cup of tea. " Ah really ? I thought you'd be flattered by the attention from a guy like me.
“Excuse me, but I'm not really interested in guys who are arrogant. I like people who are authentic and respectful.” “Haha, you look cute when you try to resist me. But let me tell you something, I’m the type of guy who always gets what he wants.” “Look, you can keep your arrogant attitude to yourself.” “I see you don’t appreciate my charm. But believe me, once you have tasted my company, you will never be able to do without me.” “Sorry, Justin, but I'm not interested in someone who thinks the world revolves around them. I prefer someone who knows how to listen and respect others.” “You know, you're missing out on something amazing by refusing to give me a chance. “I think you’re wrong, Justin. A person's worth is not measured by their arrogance, but by their kindness and respect towards others. I'm sorry, but I can't continue this conversation. So if you want to get a guided tour of this school, you'll have to keep quiet. “As you wish, but know that you are missing out on an incredible opportunity. “
Despite Justin's attitude, you remain professional and dedicated to his task as a tutor. You showed him the different classrooms, explained the school rules to him patiently and helped him navigate the complexity of the timetable.
That same evening you hurry back to the dormitories, impatient to find your boyfriend Matteho, and to finally be able to rest. When you enter your room, mattheo was already waiting for you, arms crossed lying on your bed. You then move me towards your bed, then lie down on it. And Mattheo came to surround her with his arms, his body pressing against yours. And his head resting in the crook of your neck.
" How was your day my love ? he asked you. “do you remember when I told you that there was going to be a new one and that I was going to have to be his tutor ? Well he arrived today” you said with a sigh. “Wait what? he said, referring to his head as a coup d’état. “You are the tutor of a new boy,” he said, finding it hard to believe. "Well, he arrived today and he needs help adjusting to our school." I guess they thought I was best suited to help him. do you continue He was now looking straight at you, wearing a frustrated and upset face. “But why you specifically? Don't you have enough things to do already? “Honey, calm down. It's just an added responsibility, nothing more. You know that I like to help others and I can't refuse when someone asks me for help. “I know you're kind and caring, but it makes me a little jealous to think you're going to spend time with this new boy. What will happen during these tutoring sessions?"“Don’t worry, it’s just tutoring. We'll just work on his homework and help him catch up. There’s nothing romantic about it.” you would never dare tell the fact that Justin had hit on you, you would not dare imagine the damage Matteo would do if he found out about it. So you lied to him, hoping that Justin had now given up on the idea of ​​hitting on you. “I know it's not romantic, but I can't help but feel a little threatened. I care about you and I’m afraid you’ll get closer to him.” he said, then sighing in turn. “My love, you have no reason to be jealous. You are the most important person in my life and no one can change that. I'm just here to help this boy fit in and succeed in school. Nothing more." you said, placing a soft kiss on his lips. To which he responded with a long, languorous kiss and his hands resting on your ass.
The next morning you head to the hall where you were supposed to meet just to accompany him to his potions class. Justin was already waiting for you, leaning against a wall, a big arrogant smile on his lips.
“Hey! How do we meet up? “ he said to you “You are really beautiful, I can’t help but be attracted to you.” “Thank you, that’s nice of you. But once again I'll tell you again: I'm not interested, I'm already in a relationship. “Oh, I don’t mind. Your boyfriend will never know. We could have a good time together.” “No, I’m sorry, but I’m not interested. I am happy in my current relationship and I don’t want to cheat on my boyfriend.” “Come on, don’t be so uptight. We could have fun, no one will know.” “I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to change my mind. It’s important for me to respect my relationship and myself.” “You don’t understand, I’m really interested in you. I’ll wait for you after class and convince you to go out with me.” “Look, I don’t want to be forced to do something I don’t want to. It’s inappropriate and disrespectful of you to continue to insist.” “You're ruining everything by being so closed-minded. You don’t know what you’re missing by refusing to go out with me.” “I'm sorry, but I'm not interested and I won't change my mind. I ask you to respect my decision and leave me alone.” “Ugh, you don’t deserve someone like me anyway. Good luck with your boring boyfriend.” “I prefer someone who respects my boundaries and treats me with respect. Good day." you finish before quickly turning on your heels to leave very quickly and very far from Justin.
But unfortunately, what you didn't know is that curious little heads couldn't help but listen to this discussion.
You were in the bookstore revising one of your tests when a Pansy came running and panting into the bookstore.
She came up to you and said: “For pity’s sake I don’t know what’s going on with Justin but your dear boyfriend is beating the shit out of him downstairs in the hall. “
It doesn't take much for you to run towards the hall.
Arriving downstairs the tension was palpable in the air as Mattheo stood in front of Justin, his fists clenched. Graham had dared to flirt with Mattheo's girlfriend, and it had reached the point of no return.
Mattheo, filled with seething fury, could no longer hold back. He lunged at Justin with determined force. The blows began to rain down, each blow carrying the anger and frustration that Mattheo felt.
Justin tried to fight back, but Mattheo was determined to defend his girlfriend's honor. He skillfully dodged Justin's blows and responded with devastating precision.
The crowd had gathered around them, watching the fight with fascination mixed with concern. He was driven by an indomitable energy, drawing on his rage to give the best of himself.
As the minutes passed, it was evident that Mattheo was gaining the advantage. His blows were more powerful, more precise, while Justin showed signs of exhaustion. It was clear that Mattheo was determined to win this battle. Finally, Mattheo delivers one last powerful blow that sends Justin reeling. He collapsed to the ground, out of breath and defeated. Mattheo stood above him, victorious, but not satisfied. He had defended his girlfriend's honor, but the violence of the situation left him with a bitter taste. “Oh my God, Mattheo, what happened? “ you say stressed “It’s not my fault he just had to stop flirting, I couldn’t contain myself when I heard that. Draco and Blaise heard him flirting with you yesterday. So I had to say two words to him, and things escalated,” he said. “Oh my love, I can't believe you fought because of me. “ you continued “Don't worry, I have a few scratches, but nothing serious. I just couldn’t stand to see someone flirting with what's mine.” “I’m touched that you fought and I know you want to defend me but there was no obligation to beat him in front of everyone.” “He didn’t want to understand that you were taken, so I made sure that now everyone knew,” he said with a mischievous smile. Ohhh you didn't know what you were going to do with him, you thought ironically. You then placed a sweet kiss on his mouth as a reward.
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waitimcomingtoo · 9 months
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And I Wouldn’t Marry Me Either
Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader
Synopsis: you release some songs about Tom after a disagreement ends in a breakup
Masterlist
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“Marry me.”
“Right now? But I just got comfortable.” Tom mumbled into his pillow with a sleepy smile.
“I’m serious.” You whispered through a laugh and shook his shoulder. Tom’s eyes slowly opened and he could see the blurry outline of you lying next to him in your bed.
“What?”
“I’m just thinking.” You began. “We’ve been together five years.”
“I’m aware.” Tom laughed and snuggled back into his pillow.
“So we should do it. We should get married.” You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him.
“We are married. Everyone knows you’re my girl.” Tom said without opening his eyes and pulled you into his arms. He tried to go back to sleep but you still wanted to talk.
“I know.” You laughed. “But I want to make it official.”
“What, in Gods eyes and all that? I didn’t think you cared about that.” He laughed dismissively and rolled over. You sat up fully in the bed and looked down at him.
“It’s not about that. I want the flowers and the dress and the rings. Don’t you want that?” You asked and shook him a little to clue him in that you were trying to have a serious conversation. You watched Tom shrug and roll onto his back to look up at you.
“I don’t know. I always found weddings kinda dumb.”
“What? What do you mean dumb?” You forced a laugh and tried to hide the disappointment in your tone.
“I mean, like, they’re not even legally binding. It’s this whole big celebration that people spend their life savings on just to get drunk and slid rings on each other fingers. You still have to go to the courthouse to get married and even that’s just a piece of paper.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” You laughed shortly and picked at your nail polish to look busy.
“I didn’t realize you felt a different way.” He said and rolled back onto his stomach. Tom closed his eyes to go back to sleep and you felt your heart sink in your chest. You got out of the bed and opened the curtains a little to distract yourself with the view. You touched the silky white curtains and smiled to yourself as you thought of all the pictures of white dresses you had saved on your Pinterest throughout the years.
“I’ve always dreamed of my wedding.” You said over your shoulder. “I think every little girl does at some point. Every rom com I grew up on ends with the perfect fairy tale wedding. I always wanted that. I wanted my happy ending.”
“But those are just movies. I bet half those couples wouldn’t last in real life.”
“But it’s sweet that they plan that special day together and then get to celebrate their love in front of all their family and friends.”
“Yeah, all that planning just so they can get divorced before the first year is up.” Tom snorted. “I think the whole idea of weddings are stupid. I mean, you spend all that time and money planning for a one day event that people will just attend for the free booze. Plus, women starve themselves for months and spend thousands of dollars on a dress they’ll wear once? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Tom.” You laughed shortly and folded your arms to glare at him. Tom sensed your tone and sat up in bed to pay better attention.
“I just think it’s all so ancient.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you don’t agree. Weddings cannot exist without all the bullshit sexist traditions. I mean, the white dress to symbolize the brides supposed purity, the father of the bride literally “giving her away” to another man after being asked permission to get engaged in the first place, and then to top it off with her taking his last name because she’s now his property or something. It’s all so trivial and perverse.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. Those traditions may be rooted in old fashioned thinking but I think it’s sweet to ask for my fathers permission. And yeah, I do want my dad holding my hand and walking me down the aisle. He’s not giving me away to be another man’s property, he’s standing by my side as I enter a new chapter of my life. Which is why I want my mama right there on my other side. Plus, lots of people hyphenate their last names nowadays. It doesn’t have to be this monstrous sexism fest you’re making it out to be.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Tom frowned when you shut the door. You usually left it open a crack when you did your morning skincare routine, but today, you were shutting him out. Tom got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to see you. You didn’t look up at him as you washed your face.
“Come on. Are you seriously mad because I dissed your rom coms?” Tom said as he put his hands on your hips and kissed your shoulder.
“I’m not mad about that.” You mumbled and brushed him off.
“Then what are you mad about, sour patch?” He teased and kissed your shoulder again.
“I’m mad because I’ve been getting my nails done weekly leading up to our five year anniversary just in case you proposed and you just told me that’s never even crossed your mind!” You exclaimed as hot tears of embarrassment brimmed your eyes. You stormed out of the bathroom and when Tom processed what you had said, he followed after you.
“I don’t believe in marriage, okay? I think it’s unnecessary. Why can’t we just live like this forever? What’s the difference?”
“The difference is pretty big. But I guess you don’t see it like that.” You shrugged and kept walking away from him.
“Can you honestly tell me what would be different between us if we signed a stupid piece of paper at the courthouse or didn’t?” Tom said as he put his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place for a second.
“The difference is I’d be your wife and not just the pathetic girlfriend who stayed even though you didn’t lock it down.” You raised your voice at him and pushed his hands off of you.
“So you only want to get married because you care what people think? How romantic.” Tom rolled his eyes at you.
“That’s not the only reason. I want to get married because it’s important to me. It’s a public commitment where we promise to love and protect each other forever. I want that.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t need a ceremony to do that. I can promise you that right here.” Tom calmed down and took your hands.
“But that’s not special.” You sighed and withdrew your hands.
“If you don’t find that special then maybe you don’t love me as much as you think you do.” Tom said, immediately regretting it.
“What?” You whispered and looked into his eyes to see if he was serious.
“Look, darling, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I just don’t see the point in marriage. I don’t need to prove I love you with a ring and wedding. I chose to love you every day. That’s enough for me.”
“What if it’s not enough for me?” You genuinely asked him as you wondered it for yourself.
“Then maybe you need to stop being so shallow and materialistic and ask yourself if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to play out some childhood fantasy that you saw in a stupid movie.” He shouted.
You both instantly got quiet. You were quiet for a very long time.
“I didn’t even mean that.”
“I don’t even care.” Your voice cracked as you grabbed your purse and slammed the front door behind you when you left.
“Is this one okay?” Harrison asked, pulling Tom out of his daydream. He replayed that fight over in his head about a dozen times a day. If his mind wasn’t occupied by something at all times, he’d perform an autopsy on that last conversation with you to try and understand what he should’ve done differently.
“What?” Tom asked without looking at his friend. He was too busy staring at the seat you always used to sit in at the kitchen counter.
“Can I use this one?” Harrison repeated and held up a muted purple mug as the tea kettle went off in the background. Tom tore his eyes away from your chair and when he saw the mug, all he could picture was your lipstick stain that used to stain it.
“That’s Y/n’s mug.” Tom said, descending a chill over the room. Harry and Sam’s attention was caught and they looked at Tom to see where this conversation was going.
“Oh. Sorry. I’ll put it back.” Harry said and quickly went to put it back in the cabinet.
“It’s fine. She’s not using it.” Tom shrugged. Everyone looked at each other as the awkwardness became palpable.
“How’s she’s doing?” Sam asked and sipped his tea to seem less interested than he really was.
“She’s good. Shes been recording some stuff at her New York studio. New music and whatnot.” Tom replied. He didn’t know this because you told him. He knew this because he’d been stalking your fanpages for every possible sighting of you.
“Have you guys talked lately?” Harry asked.
“Not really. Not since she left.” Tom admitted without looking up at his friends.
“You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Harrison asked, worsening the icy tension. Tom froze at the question for a minute and then shrugged. He didn’t really know what the answer was. In the weeks you’d been gone, you’d make small talk sometimes about work and the weather, but it never went beyond that. It was more to be polite. You kept in touch enough to know what the other was up to on a weekly basis, but you both knew you were dragging out something that had died. You wanted Tom to just say it was over already instead of pretending everything was normal, but he was never going to do that.
“I don’t know. We left things kinda up in the air.” Tom replied. The boys exchanged glances and Harrison nodded to let them know he was gonna take charge.
“Up in the air?” He questioned.
“Yep. Up in the air. Ambiguous. Vague. Open to interpretation. Call it what you want.” Tom shrugged again like it didn’t matter, but it did.
“Well what was the last thing you said to each other?” Harry wondered.
“She said she needed some space and was going to New York. And I said okay.” Tom recalled.
“What about before that?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the days leading up to her leaving.” Tom replied and took a long sip of his tea.
“She didn’t speak to you?” Sam asked.
“She did.” Tom nodded. “Sometimes.”
“You didn’t speak to her?” Harrison asked, already knowing the answer.
“I didn’t have anything to say.” Tom shrugged. Nobody spoke a word, but all the boys were thinking the same thing. They knew how bad this was, and that it signaled the end of your relationship.
“What?” Tom asked when he noticed the shift in vibe.
“I’m just surprised.” Harrison shrugged. “You guys were never like this. I can’t even remember your last fight.”
“We didn’t fight. You can’t fight when you don’t speak.” Tom said with a sarcastic smile.
“You should call her.” Harry suggested. “It’s gonna be at least a week since she’s been there, right?”
“Four weeks.” Tom corrected without meeting anyone’s else.
“Mate, you gotta call her.” Harry said quietly and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.
“I can’t.” Tom shook his head.
“Why not?”
“She can’t break up with me if I don’t talk to her. As long as we don’t have that conversation, we’ll still be together.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Buddy.” Harrison said apologetically. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and looked at his friend with tears brimming his bloodshot eyes.
“I don’t know what else to do.” He said with a crack in his voice.
“Oh shit.” Sam said suddenly, getting everyone’s attention.
“What?” Tom asked.
“She’s dropping a song tonight. She just announced it.” Sam said and showed Tom your Twitter. Tom took Sam’s phone to read your announcement better. Sure enough, you had posted a picture of you dramatically lying across a piano bench with your left hand covering half of your face. You had a ring on every finger except for your ring finger, a detail that wasn’t lost on Tom. He handed Sam’s phone back and look at the floor.
“You didn’t know about this?” Sam asked, and Tom shook his head. He’d gone from being the first person you played every song for to finding out on Twitter that you had a song coming out.
“What’s it called?” Harrison wondered. Sam looked down at his phone to read the title and gulped.
“Who cares?” Sam forced a laugh and put his phone away.
“What’s it called?” Tom asked again.
“You Don’t Know Me Anymore.” Sam mumbled. Tom shut his eyes and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t even heard the song yet but knew it was going to be bad news.
“When does that come out?” He asked Sam.
“Midnight. Tonight.”
Tom’s friends stayed with him all day until midnight rolled around. At 11:58, Tom placed his laptop on the kitchen table and opened YouTube. He knew you always released lyric videos when you dropped a new song and he needed to reach every single world you said. When midnight came, he refreshed his screen and clicked on your video. The background image was a picture of you looking in a mirror with messy hair. You had digitally added sparkly, purple tears to run down the still image of your face. You played a couple notes on the piano before the lyrics appeared beside your face in your handwriting.
“I wish you’d just put me out of my misery
You already know I’m at your mercy
I don’t know why you’re dragging this out
You have all the power, if that’s what this is about
I’m not gonna be the one who walks away
So I need you to say what you want to say
I already know it’s over so just let it end
Please don’t give me the pity of asking to stay friends.”
“I don’t think we should be listening to this.” Sam said as he paused the video.
“Play it.” Tom demanded. Sam sighed and pressed play while the other exchanged looks.
“I’ve been feeling you leaving
I hate this part more than the ending
The moments leading up when I know your heart has changed
I don’t know why we keep pretending
If it’s done just say it’s done
Don’t just change your mind and not tell me
I already know so just let me go
Don’t just watch as I sit and bleed.”
“I don’t think-“ Sam began as he paused it again.
“Stop pausing it.” Tom cut him off. “Play it. I need to hear it.”
Sam pressed play again and Tom pulled the laptop over to himself so he could control it.
“Cause I cut my hand on that first crack in the glass
I feel the icy air between us when you pass me
So I took your chain off from around my neck
I’ll think of something else your initial can stand for
You don’t deserve to see me wearing it anyway
You don’t know me anymore.”
Tom didn’t realize he had started to cry until his tears his his keyboard. He couldn’t see the video anymore from his blurry his eyes had gotten. He wiped his face and leaned on his hands to give the song better attention.
“You know I would die for you in secret
Like that song I showed you in my car
I don’t think you even listened to it
You didn’t draw stars around my scars
You drew your arrow and let it fly
Right into my heart and let me die
Actually, I wish that was the curtesy you provided
Instead, you let this love become one sided
And now we’re shattered like a glass that was dropped
You broke my heart until the day that it stopped
You never got down on knee
Even when I crumbled onto both of mine
I wonder if you ever really wanted me
How did you think we were fine?
And at what part did you realize you liked the idea of me?
But who I actually am isn’t someone you wanted
I miss who I was before we met
Now I can’t go back, I’m haunted
And you were right not to marry me
If I could walk away from me too, I would
You were right to leave when you did
I know I would too if I could
But I’m stuck here with myself
Forever scratching and clawing at your door
Keep it all, even my memories
You’re lucky you don’t know me anymore.”
Everyone sat in silence once the song ended. Tom wiped his eyes again but tears just kept falling down his face.
“That probably wasn’t even about you.” Harrison said after a long beat of silence. Tom gave him a look before turning to his brothers.
“What do you think?” He asked Harry.
“It sounds like she’s hurting too.” Harry shrugged. “I think you’re both waiting for the other to say you’re broken up.”
“Well I’m not saying it.” Tom stated. “She has to.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Sam asked kindly.
“Then we don’t break up.”
“Again, I’m not really sure that’s how it works.”
“Well it’s what I’m going with. Because I can’t break up with her.” Tom sniffled and shut the laptop.
“But you can’t go on like this either.” Sam pointed out.
“She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Tom said, but no one in the room believed him.
And didn’t come home for a while.
After another week of silence, Tom flew to New York to see you. He got to your apartment and knocked on your door without any particular plan in mind. You opened it with a smile but when you saw who it was, you tensed up.
“Hi.” He said with a sad smile.
“If you came to to propose to me as some kind of grand gesture-“
“Please, let me talk.” He cut you off. You sighed and nodded as you leaned against your doorway.
“We have different opinions. But I don’t love or respect anyone more than you. So I am willing to hear your side, which is not something I did last time we spoke about this. I was just listening for what I could rebuttal against. I wasn’t actually listening to understand your thoughts and feelings. But I’m ready now.” He said. You nodded again and seemed to drop the wall that you had put up.
“It matters to me that we get married.” You told him. “I know you think it’s pointless and doesn’t change anything, but it changes things for me. If you picked out a ring, asked my parents permission, and got down on one knee, that would all make me feel special and loved. Those things matter to me in a relationship.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“But now you do know so if you propose, I know you’re just gonna do it to appease me. I’ll always know that you think it’s stupid when I look at the ring.”
“I admit that it found it a little dumb in the past. But it matters to you. And nothing that matters to you can be stupid.”
“I can’t get married to you knowing you don’t really want it. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” You said and went to close the door.
“But I can’t lose you. My thoughts on marriage literally do not matter to me in the slightest. If it’s important to you and if it is what it takes to make you feel special and loved, then I want it too.” Tom pleaded as he pushed your door back open.
“But you don’t want it. You just don’t want to break up.”
“I can put on a tux for a night and suffer through if it means that much to you.” He said with a slight laugh to lighten the mood. Your face changed and he had somehow made the situation worse.
“Suffer?” You asked quietly with a told of your head.
“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But darling, I’m saying we can get married. I’ll do whatever it is you want. Why do you still look so upset?”
“Because you don’t get it.” You shook your head. “And I’m afraid you never will.”
“What don’t I get? I don’t understand. I’m telling you I’ll give you what you want.”
“But you don’t want it too. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s the principle, Tom. Remember how disappointed I was that one time when I said I wanted ice cream so we went to the shop but you didn’t get anything? I didn’t mean I wanted ice cream. I meant I wanted us to get ice cream together so we could eat it and spend time together. This is like that but times a million. You can’t compromise on marriage. You either believe in it or you don’t. So even if we did get married, it wouldn’t mean to you what it means to me. I would always think back to that conversation we had and remember how you really feel about marriage. I keep replaying all the things you said that day in my head. We both know how you feel about marriage and we both know it’s not something you want.”
“So that one conversation ruined it for you? Completely?” He asked.
“Yes, it did.” You answered truthfully. You stared at each other for a minute as both your eyes welled with tears. You both knew you’d reached a stalemate and there was nothing more to be done.
“So what do we do now?” Tom asked without looking at you.
“I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You told him, making him perk up.
“So do I.” He smiled as tears rolled down his face.
“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked him. Tom froze and felt the situation escaping from him fast.
“We’ve been together almost 5 years, darling. That’s five birthdays, Christmas’s, anniversaries. You make up so much of my life. We’re exactly right for each other. It’s supposed to be you and me in the end. I can’t do this with anyone else.”
“And I can’t do this with you.” You laughed sadly and gestured to him. Tom’s heart dropped in his chest when it became apparent that this was more than just a fight.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“I think I am.” You nodded. Neither of you could believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but it was too late to take them back.
“Does marriage really mean that much to you that you’d rather break up instead of just living a long, happy life together?” Tom asked you.
“I guess it does.” You realized. He stood there in shock as you put a hand on his shoulder and brought him closer to kiss his cheek.
“Goodbye, Tom.” You smiled sadly at him and shut your door.
Another month went by and you did not come home. You busied yourself with your music and dove into your next album, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him on midnights when you were left alone with your thoughts. Tom thought about you a lot more often, like every time he saw your face on his TV. He tuned in one night to watch you debut your latest music video of your newest song. His eyes were glued to the TV as the video opened with your back to some brown eyed actor.
“You say “I don’t understand” and “I say I know you don’t.” We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.” You sang with your eyes glued to the floor. The setting changed and you were walking through an apartment that Tom recognized.
“She filmed this on Cornelia Street?” Tom whispered to himself and sat back on his couch.
“Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light.” A smiling version of you sang as she walked though the apartment holding the hand of the actor playing Tom. The setting changed again and you were still in the room, but the lights were off and you were sitting alone in the floor.
“Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.” You sang while not looking in the camera. The rest of the video followed in suit. You flashed between happy, golden hued memories with the actor to grey toned solo shots of you sitting alone at your piano or on the floor. The difference in the moods made Tom reminisce on the old times and he wondered how long it has been since he had made you smile the way you were doing in the video.
“Stop, you’re losing me. Stop, stop, stop. You’re losing me.” You sang while looking directly into the camera as a purple heart monitor line ran through the background behind you and eventually flatlined. Tom felt like you were staring right into his soul and realized this was the closest he’d gotten to making eye contact with you in a while. He watched the sad, grey version of yourself split from the happy version and suddenly, there were two of you on the screen while the actor playing Tom ignored them both.
“How long can we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?” The both of you sang while Tom’s counterpart read the newspaper and didn’t look at either. He thought of the days leading up to you leaving for New York where he’d be doing exactly that, reading the newspaper to pretend to look busy when he felt you glaring at him. He wiped his face and watched as the scene changed to the three of you at a party. The sad version of you was clinging to Tom’s counterpart defensively while the other version of you yelled at him with a drink in your hand.
“Fighting in only your army. Front lines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing as this party.” You yelled and drunkenly stumbled around while the rest of the party watched.
“You’re losing me.” The grey version whispered into Tom’s ear. He assumed that version represented the part of you that missed him while the other version represented the you that knew it was over. The scene changed again and this time, you were back in the Cornelia Street apartment with an open ring box in the center of the table. There was no ring inside, just a burning flame.
“And I wouldn’t marry me either. A pathological people pleaser.Who only wanted you to see her.” You said into the camera while Tom’s character threw things into a bag behind you and went to leave.
“And I’m fading thinking do something babe! Say something! Lose something, babe. Risk something. You’re losing me! Chose something, babe. I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” The grey version of you desperately said to Tom’s counterpart as she pulled on his arm to beg him to stay. It was like he couldn’t see her at all and just kept walking towards the door. The golden version of yourself opened the door and pointed for him to get out while the other version of you jumped in front of him and dropped to her knees to get him to stay. Tom’s character walked right through her and she faded to dust, leaving just the one version of yourself to watch him go. The music stopped and you ended up running after him, but he was already gone. You turned and ran down Cornelia Street but didn’t go back into your apartment. You just kept running down the street and turned the block so that the camera couldn’t see you anymore. The camera panned out to show the Cornelia Street sign and a violin version of your song by the same name played in the background as the street sign turned grey and faded into dust. The screen turned black and Tom was left alone in the silence.
After another month, he found himself outside your door again. He knocked on it and felt his heart pound until you opened it up.
“Tom? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you. I came to fix this.” He said simply.
“Tom, I don’t know that we can fix this.” You said apologetically. It felt amazing to see him, but it didn’t change the fact that you ultimately wanted different things in life.
“You were right. You can’t compromise on marriage. And you either believe in it or you don’t.” He began before getting down on one knee.
“Tom?” You asked skeptically as your eyes went wide. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it up for you.
“It’s your moms ring. Your dad gave it to her for the third Valentine’s Day they celebrated together in college. She doesn’t wear it anymore because it’s one size too small, so she gave it to me when I asked them for permission to marry you.”
“You asked them?” You smiled in surprise that he had done one of the things you said mattered to you.
“I did. It was a little awkward to find out your mother already knew all about our previous conversations about marriage so you can probably guess how confused I was.” He said with an embarrassed laugh.
“What did my dad say?”
“He said as long as I make you happy, he’s proud to have me join the family.”
“See? No one’s giving me away to anyone. We’re just creating a bigger family for the two of us.”
“I see that now. I see a lot of the points you made. And what your dad said got me thinking.”
“About?”
“All I want is to make you happy. Which is different from agreeing to things I don’t want to do to appease you. I do want to watch you walk down the aisle in a dress that’s been in your Pinterest board since you were 13. I do want to plan the seating arrangement and introduce my weird friends from college to your weird friends from college. I want to plan the entire thing because that’s something we can do together, and those are my favorite things to do.”
“What about the ceremony? And the marriage license? You don’t want those things.”
“I didn’t at first.” He admitted. “But after actually thinking about it and reevaluating the opinion I formed before I ever even had a serious relationship, I realized I feel differently. You make me feel differently. I would proudly sign my name next to yours on a marriage license. Because I happen to think our names look pretty good together. And as for the ceremony, I know we can’t compromise, but we can collaborate. It doesn’t have to be a huge blowout party. It can be the best elements of the both of us. And we can plan it together.”
“That all sounds very lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe in marriage just a few months ago. Am I really supposed to believe you’ve truly changed your mind? What if this is just some grand gesture to win me back that you end up regretting?” You asked him.
“I will never end up regretting promising my love for you in front of our family and friends. I’ll never regret hyphenating our names so that everyone knows I’m a part of a duo. I’ll never regret choosing to legally attach myself to my vets friend and spend the rest of my life with her. But I can tell you with the utmost assurance that I would regret letting you walk away and become a name I wince at for the rest of my life.”
“You felt differently not too long ago.” You quietly reminded him. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you couldn’t fully trust it.
“I changed my mind. I realized somethings are more important than other things. And that you’re more important than anything.”
Your skeptical expression turned into a coy smile as you slid your hand into the one that wasn’t holding the open ring box.
“You never actually said the words.” You told him, making Tom break into a relieved smile.
“Darling, would you make me the happiest man-“
“Eh. Try again. Too cliche.” You cut him off. Tom smiled and shook his head, knowing you weren’t gonna make it easy.
“My love, I don’t want to spend another minute as just your boyfriend.” He tried again.
“Lame. Thumbs down.” You shook your head and pointed your thumb down.
“Would you do me the honor-“
“Yawn.” You interrupted.
“Will you just marry me, you annoying brat?” Tom groaned.
“Tom! I thought you’d never ask!” You gushed over dramatically and put your hand over your heart.
“Is that a yes?” Tom asked as he stood up.
“I have to think about it. I don’t know if marriage is for me.” You shrugged as he slid the ring onto your finger. You looked down at the ring and remembered the time you tried it on as a little girl and how it didn’t fit your finger until now.
“Yes. I will marry you.” You smiled as you looked back up at Tom. Tom broke into a grin and scooped you up to spin you around.
“Sorry I wrote all those emo songs about you.” You said into his ear, making him laugh.
“It’s okay. It’s what you do.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he set you down. He then pulled you in for a long kiss to make up for all the time you were apart. When you pulled away, he pulled your face back towards him with his hands to kiss your left cheek.
“I see you.” He said, then kissed you right cheek.
“I choose you.” He continued, then kissed your forehead.
“I love you.” He said, the kissed your nose before looking into your eyes.
“And I know you.” He told you. You smiled softly and nodded your head.
“You do?” You asked him. “You really know me?”
“I do.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison
@andreasworlsboring101 @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention
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@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
2K notes · View notes
huntingingoodwill · 2 years
Text
take me, so breathless (we could be reckless) (s.h)
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masterlist
pairing: steve harrington x reader
desc: "let's get married." late night, whispered proposals, steve’s dream of having six daughters and general sappiness
a/n: based off the let's get married cover by mitski <3 it’s so pretty give it a listen or be lame forever!!
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“You know,” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, and lying next to him, you could feel it rumble in his chest, husky with sleep. “Fighting monsters, and nearly dying… it makes you wanna do the things you’ve always wanted to do. Before it’s too late.” He found your hand in the darkness, pressing the calloused pads of his fingers to yours before lacing them together, his fingers slotting perfectly in the spaces between yours. 
He felt your cheek twitch against his bicep as you smiled into the crook of his arm. His tan skin glowed a shade of deep blue as twilight crept in through the window. You had been up with him all night, the room silent except for the hushed breathing of those sleeping around you, and the rasp of your exchanged whispers.
“You’ve been fighting monsters?” Your finger reached up to ghost the raw, red line slashed across his freckled-sprayed neck, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your touch. “I haven’t noticed.” 
His lips turned upward, a sweet, lop-sided smile, dimple furrowing into his cheek.
“Let’s get married.” He whispered. 
Your heartbeat kicked into life, thrumming hard in your chest as you blinked up at him through wide eyes, a warmth spreading across your neck. You propped your arm up on the sleeping bag, looking back down at him, equally excited, shocked and wondrous. His smile grew bigger.
“What?”
“Let’s do it.” He grinned, mirroring your position as he pushed himself up on his forearm, thumb running over the uneven ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s get married.”  
“You move pretty fast, y’know.” Your smile grew, an uncontrollable, dumb grin. You were completely happy. “We’ve only been dating for, what-” 
“Five months, twenty-one days.” The response rolled off his tongue, immediate and exact. “But who’s counting?” He scoffed, waving an arm around nonchalantly, a giggle escaping your lips. “I’ve always wanted to get married.” He said, expression softening, his gentle eyes peering into yours. “I’ve always wanted to marry you. I think… I just knew. As soon as I met you. Plus, with everything going on, if anything happens to me-” 
“Don’t say that.” You interrupted, the idea of losing him too awful to even entertain. 
“If anything happens to me,” He continued, slowly, “I want to know I did what I’ve always wanted to do. I want to know I married the person I love.” His fingers drummed against your arm, a little nervously. “What do you say?” 
“I’d love to.” A buzz of excitement sizzling through you, your fingers flexing subconsciously, shaking a little with exhilaration. You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. “I suppose I’m a little shocked.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It’s just so sudden, and, well… you know people usually have… proper adult conversations before making a big decision like this.” You chuckled, stumbling over your words.
“Okay. Let’s have a proper adult conversation, then.” He said, sitting up, poking fun at your clunky phrasing. He rolled out his sore shoulders, as if preparing himself for an onslaught of serious questioning. You couldn’t help but laugh as he tamped his smile down, morphing his face into his most serious expression. “What do we need to discuss?” 
“Well, when will the wedding be?” 
“What time does town hall open tomorrow?” He replied instantly, glancing at the watch around his wrist. You dissolved into laughter at his eagerness, running a finger gently across the cool glass of the watch. 
“I don’t have anything to wear.” Your eyebrows furrowed.
“Wear that white dress I like. I have a suit.” He said decisively, running a thumb across your brow as if smoothing out the skin.
“Your parents will kill you.” You whispered dejectedly, the excitement you felt faltering as you grew still with worry.
“Who cares about them!” He exclaimed, almost a little too loudly. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic outburst, peeking around your shoulder to check that your friends were still fast asleep. The sound of Robin’s soft snores reassured you. “They don’t need to know.” He mumbled. “Hey, I mean, it sounds cliche, but they don’t know about love. Not the way we do. They wouldn’t get it. So why bother about them?” The smile faded from his face, big, brown eyes trained on you. “We won’t end up like them.” He whispered, shaking his head softly. His voice was determined.
“We won’t end up like them.” You repeated, just as sure, tucking a loose curl that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He smiled, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss under your knuckle, nibbling at it a little to make you squeal as you drew your hand back in. 
“Any other questions?” He laughed, fiddling with your fingers.
“Hm…God, what else would serious, proper adults discuss…” You pondered. “Oh! Do you want kids, eventually?
“Yes.” 
“How many?” 
“Six.” 
“Six?!” You choked, him gesturing for you to quiet down at risk of waking the rest up. “Six?!” 
“Six.”  He repeated decisively. 
“How many boys, how many girls?” 
“All girls.” 
“All girls?” You giggled, raising an eyebrow.
“Shush. Don’t laugh.” He whispered, barely able to hold back his smile as he saw one form on your face. “Six kids. All girls. Travelling the world together. With you too, of course. So. What do you say? Tomorrow, as soon as town hall opens, in that dress I like?” 
“One kid.” You bargained, smiling.
“Five.” 
“Three.” 
“Deal.” He smiled. “I didn’t like being an only child. It was lonely for me.” 
“They’ll never be lonely. Not with us.” You muttered, lips lifting upward as you looked at him, your Steve. “Yeah. Let’s get married.” 
He grinned, eyes crinkling in the corners in that sweet way that you loved, and you reached out to touch his cheek, the smooth surface dotted with freckles, warm to the touch as he blushed. 
He leaned forward and kissed you as you cupped the nape of his neck gently, his soft hair brushing your hand as you felt his lips against yours, pink and soft. You felt heady, a gooey warmth building in your stomach as you smiled into the kiss. You were dizzy, dizzy with happiness. 
You fell back into his arms, both of you glancing up at the window above you as the first golden rays of sunlight blended into the blue, daylight reaching into the room, brushing its beams across his sun kissed skin. His lashes, thick and dark, fluttered against the light before adjusting, looking at you, his eyes glowing in the light, hues of whiskey and honey. 
“Are you crying?” You laughed, using your thumb to wick away a tear, glittering in the sun, rolling out from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just happy. Really happy.” He whispered. “Hey, you’re crying too!” He laughed, poking you in the side. 
“Shut up.” You sniffled, smiling through your tears as you punched him in the arm. “Can’t believe I’m marrying a wuss.” You pouted, ducking your face away from him, tears of joy dropping gently onto his bare arm. 
“Me too.” He joked. He tugged you closer to him, hand running up and down your back. The weight of his chin rested on the top of your head. 
“I love you, Harrington.” You whispered. 
“I love you too, Mrs. Harrington.”
5K notes · View notes
ugotcooneycrossed · 4 months
Text
have i told you lately, im grateful youre mine • alessia russo
w/c: ~900
alessia doesn't like anyone as much as she likes you- or, how mean girl less is really just a big softie
a/n: i dont really love this but its done so
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the skies are overcast- the cold wind hitting your cheeks and nose- no matter how hard you try to cover them in your scarf.
it’s raining- small droplets fall down and splatter on the ground, and on your clothes- well alessia’s clothes, but really it’s basically yours anyway.
it feels just like home really.
you had no reason to make the move to america- unfortunately gifted with the burden of two left feet, and asthma so bad your breathing could rival that of a pug, a sport scholarship was out of the question. thankfully your skills in books landed you with endless opportunities, that wouldn’t cause you to fall on your face. you could’ve gone to any uni really- but with an academic scholarship calling, and the promise of much better weather, you couldn’t turn it down.
and it was only ironic that you met alessia when you finally got to UNC- stargirl to the extreme and very- very serious footballer. even thinking about her sport made you breathless- or well, thinking about her playing football with the stupidly attractive captains armband made you breathless.
friday night games are your favourite- all your focus can be diverted to watching your girlfriend play.
and like every other week- your voice is sore from how much you’ve been cheering and screaming for the blonde striker.
they’re winning two – nil, those scored by of course alessia.
and no matter how many games you go to, no matter if they’re here at UNC or somewhere across the world for youth international duties, and no matter how many times she scores. you will always be the loudest one cheering.
you manage to make eye contact with her, beaming at her and sending her a thumbs up-and she smirks back at you, blowing you a kiss. your cold cheeks start to warm and you sit back down when the people around you start to tease you.
everyone and their mothers know who alessia russo’s girlfriend is- she’s quite known for her possessive streak around campus.
there was the time where she poured her drink on someone when they didn’t get the hint, also the time she came to you at half-time at her game to steal your jacket so everyone could see the number on the back of your shirt- then nursing you back to health when you inevitably got sick, and also the time she blew off training and had to run laps- all because she wanted to cuddle.
so, no- she’s not subtle at all.
not that you’d complain of course- her jealousy is very attractive.
by the time the stands clear out- it’s just you left, waiting for your girlfriend to finish her post match routine.
“hey (y/n)!”
you beam at the voice- running down the steps to jump into lotte’s arms for a hug.
“hi! you were so great out there!”
“how do you know- I’m sure lessi was all you could focus on.”
“that’s not true carlotte. i love all you girls equally.”
“hmm well i wasn’t even playing, so i think you’re lying.”
lotte wiggles her eyebrows at you, and your mouth drops I shock- before you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment.
“sorry lotts.”
“just kidding! i really was playing- but you still didn’t notice so ha!”
“go bother someone else’s girlfriend lotte- or, go get your own!”
alessia swings her arm around your shoulder and your hand comes up to hold hers- fingers entwining. alessia presses a kiss to the side of you face and stares at lotte.
“calm down less- i’m just messing around.”
you elbow your girlfriend.
“yeah, yeah. bye now lotte i’ll see you tomorrow.”
you both watch the older girl walk away- and alessia sets off, arm still around your shoulders, bringing you close to her side. you start to stumble over your feet at the awkward angle she’s created.
“less let me go- i can’t walk properly.”
“no.”
-
in the few years alessia’s been here, she’s garnered quite the reputation- a harsh captain with a mean streak, always quick with insults, and never afraid to get into a physical fight.
she’s competitive, and judgemental- and well a mean girl.
but you know better.
you know that she’s a sucker for romantic films- no matter how many times she tells you its stupid, she’ll always end up crying first.
you know that she lets you win- at any game really, ‘miss sore loser’ seems to always forget how to play whenever its against you.
you know that her jealousy is just because she loves you- and despite time, and time again reassuring her that she doesn’t need to be jealous, that you have and always will love just her- she continues to bite the head off just about anyone who so much as looks at you.
you can especially see it in the way she grips your hand tighter, the way her eyes glare at anyone daring to get too close, but mostly- you can tell in the way she refuses to let you go, from whatever party youre at, all the way back to your dorms.
shes a softie really- hanging off you as if you were her lifeline- puckering her lips and begging for kisses.
no one knows her the way you do.
the way you could do absolutely nothing with her and itd still be perfect.  
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xxe-jkk · 6 months
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Summary : waking up with the person that you love is like heaven, even if it present you as a menace…
Warning ! : idol!au, a lot of fluff, few kisses, reference to suggestive (a bit) Jungkook being the clingiest and teasing boyfriend coded (weakness) you want to kick him out but he’s jk. Comfort, ref to friends to lovers..
A/N : it’s the first time I do a fic like that, will see how it will go 😭 be indulgent about it pls (low English sorry) love y’all
Muscles on your body felt almost breaking down by all the hard working that you did. Jungkook already told you to stay healthy, stubborn as you are, you want to give all you can do for making people proud of you, specially Jungkook. The biggest point common that you both have is how you work hard for things that you love, but different level, you thought.
The sunlight get on your both naked body covered by the sheet on your bed. It’s seem for you so long since you really get a real good sleep with all the stress overwhelming you. Despite it, you feel guilty to tell him about it knowing that he certainly work ten times much and harder that you. You want to put yourself on his shoes for not being a selfish one. Though, he’s being here with you since the day one, supporting you and make you laugh on the hardest moment, he was all you could asked for. You both been busy with him and his promotions, and you with your studies and classes. When he was away apart, it’s like a part of you who go with him, it’s not the same when he isn’t here..
You turn your face slightly to his side, using his tattooed arm as a pillow. He was sleeping peacefully, good thing that he took the time to rest with all the trip and work that he did. Jungkook is Jungkook, god knows how much he could take with his self, still feeling you good despite all of it. His hair in front of his forehead, sweet cheeks who got the envy to squish them, why does he seem that innocent when he definitely not?
Open his eyes softly, meeting your gaze on him
“Keep sleeping, sorry for waking you babe”
his sleepy eyes met yours lazily, putting you closer to his bare chest. You can’t tell if he’s awake or sleepy. So cute. He hums a bit before getting into his sleep state.
“Why do you seem so tensed, did you sleep well?” He mumbled calmly
“it’s you that hug me too tight, you can feel my bones at this point” tease him softly as caress his cheek. It’s ridiculously true that Jungkook loves physical touch, always wanting you close, specially when it’s only you and him.
“you’re lying, I’m holding you with a tenderness touch”
“You’re the one who do, I can’t even get away from your hold, even in your sleep”
“why would you go away from me?” He asked with fake confusion before continue with a smirk
“seem like you loved my hold last night when I took you on the kitchen”
Getting a hit of shyness, you put your hand on his mouth to shut him out “shut up, stop being that wild”
“rain, rain, rain, you can’t fake it” he sings softly
“ you just up from bed and it’s the first thing that it came on your mind?” smile slightly at his behaviour
“what else could I think of? I keep having your taste on my tongue” tease you, how he loves make you that flustered, too much for him
he nuzzled his face on your soft neck and letting some kisses there and there.
“fuck. I could spend my days like that, never get enough”
“not me, go away” tease him slightly, but at your surprise, he knows how to play this game too
“ what? Okay now I’m really upset” stand up from bed, missing already his touch “gonna see bam, he will take my affection”
“Wait, what? No okay come back, I’m kidding” hug his waist by behind as nuzzling your face on his neck “finally, I want your touch, I missed it”
“..why are you so cute?..” As taking your hands, wrapping them around his neck as being in front of you, he cuddles you, laying down on the bed. Shower your throat and bare chest with light kisses
“I love you, I love you, how are you mine?”
you could ask the same question, is he serious? He has the entire world into him and he asking you that?
“I love you too baby, I missed you so much, feeling lonely without you, or maybe because I am?” He laughed at your soft behaviour, at those moments, he just want to stop time and and being with you, being with people he loves without being away from them. He know that almost, he will not be apart to see you for two years, why do they make him apart of you when it’s the time where you’re supposed to spend a lot of time together?
”I missed you too, so much that I could cry if I still think about that” he say softly
“please don’t, don’t want to see your teary eyes or I will cry too”
“ we’re a good match of sensitive”
You both do a high five as an accomplishment
“Don’t you find it’s like the wassup thing” you say lightly like if you found out a new thing
“ yeahh” he told it in a playful tone
“we should do what we used to do before we date”
“bro it’s been too long since, I thought we replaced it by kisses” you remember when you both were into that comfy friendship, three years ago. You both were best friends before dating, but with his career going on, it was hard to keep seeing each other, maybe it didn’t changed that much now too. Jungkook always told you during your friendship that he didn’t have the time to date, seem like he was right, but your both feelings are strong enough to handle the separation, and he make it easier by his face call, messages and his huge affection when he’s back. Dating Jeon Jungkook is hard, but he make it easier, for you
“Just a reminder, we already did all the couple stuff last night baby” he whispers it in your ear as taking your hand
“why are you such a menace? Aish, you can’t stay still for one second?”
“I told you that I was hard to handle, it’s difficult to date Jeon Jungkook” he say as putting a peck on your lips, putting your sitting body close to him by your tights ”let’s go, leshugoo”
As getting ready to do the wassup check, you both put a distance between your hands. Before your both hands get slapped together, You dodge his hand like a feint. His hand was held there, only tapping the air. You faked it. He looked at you with confusion in his starry eyes before his lips forming a pout. You burst out laughing.
“you laughing? You seem that confident, huh?” You couldn’t stop laughing
“sorry, I couldn’t contain myself of doing it, you were so ready and I-“ before you couldn’t continue, he kisses your lips half roughy but soft at the same time.
“ I will take my revenge” he tell you with a smirk on his face
As hugging his shoulders, you keep giggling softly
“you’re the one who were so wild with me at first, need to teach you a lesson”
“but I was just playing with you” he whines softly as looking at you
“me too, I couldn’t stop laughing about it by the way” you smiled
“no, you made fun of me” he pout again, can’t contain a smirk going.
“so you shouldn’t be all lovey with me at the first”
“let me love my girlfriend in peace” “you already loved her enough last night”
Now it’s his turn to laugh, seem like you became wild like him. Such a menace.
“I will give you back what you just did, will see who will laugh this time”
With him, you can be ready to anything because obviously, he plays hard when he plays, and not only in sex.
You put a soft peck on his lips, and again, until you say “why not forget that? As besties, we shouldn’t fight, huh?
“besties, huh?” He say playfully as playing with your hair “I would gladly do but I need something in return, something that only you can give me, only from you I accept”
“something from me? What’s it? “ look at him with envy eyes. You want him so fucking bad.
“ let me show you and I might forgive you about what you did to me” he say playfully, caressing softly your tights, hands directly in your bare ass as putting kisses in your neck. There we go again
“what happened to the ‘wassup bro’ coded” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“few kisses won’t ruin our friendship, baby”
—————————————————————————
a/n : why does it look so bad??😭 I’m reflecting myself about posting it. Hope that it’s just my eyes and you will love it. Love yaaa💕
Do not copy, translate!
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mukumukunomi · 6 months
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Not Alone. Never Alone. (part 1)
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Luffy x Fem!Reader
cw: fluff, no smut, first love, implied semi-relationship, no manga spoilers, takes place just after East Blue's arc in live action, idiots in love
wc: 1,663
a/n: This is part one of a a short and sweet two parter. I'll be uploading it soon hopefully! Still thinking of more cute one-shots I can write as well. Part two will be linked below
Part Two (Luffy)
❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦
You tell him that getting involved would result in disaster.
But Luffy is a magnet for disaster. He’s chaos incarnate. Brutally honest to a flaw with a kindness that shatters ideals and shakes the foundation of the world. It’s as rare as it is maddening.
“I'm serious. It’s better if I go alone tonight instead of tomorrow.”
The words bite through the silence. It actually forces Luffy away from shoveling the food in his mouth as he eyes you up and down. 
“Where are we going?”
You sigh. He’s not listening to you. Not really. The words are going in but not processing. Luffy always does it when he hears something he doesn’t like. He simply states what he wants instead like the universe will bend itself to his will. 
Maybe it does.
“Not ‘we’. I am going to go to the island. Me. Not you.”
Luffy frowns. You know he doesn’t doubt your strength nor your character. But it’s the subtle narrowing of his eyes and the way he slowly chews his food that gives his emotions away. He’s annoyed, you think.
“I don’t want ya’ to go alone.”
You sigh dramatically. He’s like a petulant child. His reasoning confounds you. “I’ll be careful.”
He breaks gaze with you to take another huge bite of meat. It’s impressive how he manages to scarf it down in the span of two minutes before he’s once again berating you. “But I can be stealthy!”
You wipe a crumb from his cheek. His face is twisted, eyes avoiding you. He whistles a broken tune mainly because he’s terrible at whistling. Sweat drips down his face. All the tells convincing you that your captain would be terrible poker player. “Leave the lying to Usopp. It’s not your forte. And leave the stealthiness to me. It’s my forte.”
His concern isn’t unwarranted. You're sneaking into the lair of people who once held you as a short-time captive long ago. They’re not as fearsome as some of the pirates you and the crew have encountered, but nevertheless have connections to people you’d rather avoid.
You’re wanted in more waters than the prospective King of the Pirates beside you. The ties of your family and the status they have in this world make it so you’re looking over your shoulder at all times. You’ve never known freedom until the strange being named Monkey D. Luffy stumbled into your life. 
But you know the layout of this particular place, and it has something the crew requires. Without it they can’t continue their journey forward. And you’d be damned if you were the one holding them back. 
“It’ll be quick. In and out. They’ll never even know! I spent a lot of time there as a prisoner so-.”
Luffy slams the meat bone onto the plate in front of him. He calls Sanji for more. Sanji’s disgruntled reply echoes from the kitchen to your place on the deck. You almost think the thing is settled until Luffy’s blazing eyes meet yours again.
The words are harsh. “I’m going.”
“Luffy, we don’t need to waste time on something I can handle myse-”
“That’s an order from the captain.”
His voice holds no cheerfulness. He’s never used that tone with you before. It’s the tone of finality. It means that Luffy has heard you out and he’s overruling you. You’ve seen him use it on people.  You’ve never had it used on you before. The abruptness of it makes you stand.
Hurt flares in your chest. Did he not trust you? Did he actually think you were weak? The logical part of your brain screams ‘no!’ but it’s buried in the torrent of emotions. Here was a chance to prove just how useful you could be. Prove you belonged on this crew. Why did he have to be so difficult? 
Luffy’s attention diverts again. He settles back into his mantra of consuming whatever is in front of him as Sanji places another plate of meat down. You make eye contact with the cook, who simply shrugs at the mood the captain is in. You huff in anger and decide being anywhere else is better than talking to the brick wall with a straw hat.
Habit finds you in the main meeting area of the Going Merry. Besides the currently absent presence of Sanji in the small kitchen, the crew’s swordsman is dozing lazily in the corner of the common space. You can’t tell if he’s supposed to be sharpening his sword or is sneaking the booze supply. It surprises you to see him in cohabitation with Sanji in the same room at all.
You plop next to Zoro. You draw your knees up to your chest and rest your elbows on your knees. You let out a long, dragged out keening noise of frustration.
“He shut you down, huh?”
Without looking, you smack his shoulder. Zoro simply scoffs as he tries to get more comfortable against the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You eye his form. “You said he’d be stubborn. Nami suggested I wait until he was eating to try to convince him.”
Zoro shifts the Wado Ichimonji on his hip. “Yeah, Nami’s right about that. He’s pretty susceptible when food’s on offer. You can convince him to do almost anything.”
The groan that is your reply is muffled by your arms. "Apparently not everything."
He taps the hilt of the blade on your head. “Problem wasn’t the timing. It was the subject.”
Your brows scrunch together. “The subject?”
“You.”
“You’re saying that I’m the problem.”
Zoro smirks. “Yup.”
You shove his shoulder at his shit-eating grin. Luffy and you care for each other. More than friendship. Not quite romantic. You're not sure if he even knows how to be. So you both settle for a comfortable in-between where labels are irrelevant. You’re free to explore this feeling between you two and see where it leads. Despite his naivete, there’s a quiet confidence in Luffy’s chaste kisses. In lingering touches and odd looks that make your heart rate elevate. There are moments where you wonder if he truly knows the effect he has on you.
You’re in love with him. So in love with him. You don’t know how deep his love for you runs. It terrifies you.
Your indignant snort reverberates the space. “I don’t understand.”
The moss-head rolls his eyes at you and takes a swig of a bottle. “If you don’t understand then you may be an even bigger idiot than he is.”
You decide that the room is more stuffy as you feel hot embarrassment at his remark. “At least I’m an idiot that can find my way around.”
The swordsman makes an interesting coughing noise as you get up and exit back onto the deck. 
Going Merry is docked at the north end of the inlet. It shrouds your little caravel just enough that you can still see the top of the fortress that lies beyond the hill to the south. You can see that the clouds are beginning to move eastward as a warm wind blows from the storm front to the west. Luffy is no longer where he was, but you can hear the echoes of his voice from below. Sanji passes you to return to the kitchen to clean up and lock the fridge, which will hopefully keep a certain pest (captain) away. You begin descending the stairs to the main deck as Sanji and Zoro’s voices start to hurl insults at each other from behind. 
The only one who remains on deck is Nami, who’s staring at a map of the island on the flat end of an upright barrel. An oil lamp burns beside her to give light. You rest your chin on her shoulder and hum at the layout. “That’s wrong.”
You point to the secret entrance Nami’s drawn. “It’s just to the west of the hill at the base. And that forest stretches all the way to the coastline too.”
Nami frowns and marks the correction with a pen. “Damn, I’ll have to redraw again at some point.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You say, voice turning bitter. “It’s not worth that kind of effort.”
You hope to never see this island again after this.
Nami simply raises an eyebrow. “You sound upset. What did Luffy say?”
You tend to forget how perceptive the navigator is. “He ordered me to let him come. Ordered! Like a captain! Can you believe that?”
“Ah. Well he is the captain.” Nami clicks her tongue, “Serious tone and all too?”
You nod. “Any chance of still changing his mind?”
The tangerine colored strands of her hair flow gently in the breeze as Nami laughs. “Absolutely not. But maybe it’s for the best. We both know how stubborn he can be.”
She snuffs the oil lamp out and folds the map to put in her pocket. Without the warm light, the ship is suddenly shrouded in an eerie darkness. The only light left is from the pale glow of the moon. Nami shifts her attention back to you. “Heading to bed. You?”
Usopp’s snores have already begun to resound across the ship. There are heavy footsteps below you from the men’s quarters. There’s a brief moment of loud talking and heavy things being thrown before peace once again returns to the Going Merry. 
You gaze up at the stars. “In a minute. I forgot something in the kitchen.”
The navigator yawns as she walks away. You watch her disappear below. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut as you move towards the ship’s railing. You peer over it, gazing at the strip of land alongside your ship.
Luffy could be stubborn. But so could you.
The warm air turns cold as you inhale shakily. You do a double take of the surroundings again to make sure you’re alone.
“Sorry, Luffy.”
You throw the rope ladder down and descend as quietly as possible.
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dear-bunnyboo · 5 months
Note
I am in love with your fics 💕
Can I please request a Joe Burrow one shot where it’s about his calf early in the season, the reader constantly worries about Joe and tells him to sit each game out but Joe is stubborn so he doesn’t listen and Joe snaps at one point and it hurts the reader. Then it moves to one day where the reader doesn’t even bother worrying about him because the reader knows Joe won’t listen. Can it be angsty but end on a good note.
first Joey B one-shot angst!!! Love this request so much and it kinda lowkey reminded me of my other Joe Burrow one-shot— IDGAF 🤍
I never intended this one-shot to be too perfect for our current situation but it is what it is. This is for all my loves who are all lowkey freaking out because of the game, hope this makes you feel better even more just a moment 🤍
𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You just want Joe to listen to you and say yes for once.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries, shouting, frustrated!Joe, arguments, crying, fluff in the end
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You thought that this season would start different for your boyfriend Joe but it seems like it’s simply rotten luck on his part— you could say that Joe is a lucky guy; from being gifted with insane talent, skill, looks, personality, and the likes. However, he seems to have a knack on starting his football season either injured or sick.
It started with his knee injury during his rookie year— tearing left ACL and MCL during one of his games. Then him rupturing his appendix the year after, earning him another trip to the surgery table.
You honestly thought that this year was gonna be different for the quarterback. He has always been vocal about his disappointment in missing the beginning of each season— one of Joe’s many goals every year to to start the season healthy and end it healthy.
You and Joe thought that this year would be finally be the year he starts off strong and healthy— you were both wrong.
After getting a call from the Bengals’ coach Zach Taylor about your boyfriend being carted off the practice field for straining his calf; you were pretty sure you were close to crying. Joe’s calf injury surprisingly is the least serious out of all the injuries he had sustained but seeing your boyfriend so depleted once he got home from that practice hurt you.
Joe loves football. He loves what he does and it hurts you to see him so defeated.
However, Joe is not one to give up that easily. Once he got the clearance to continue with practice, he went straight for it and he was adamant on playing their first game of the season. You, however, you didn’t think it was a good idea for him to do so. Most of the people around him want him to sit the first few weeks out— you especially; scared that he might aggravate his injury even further.
But Joe was a lot of things and stubborn was one of those things.
He simply brushed your concerns off with a smile, “I feel good to play, baby. I need to play.” Joe reassured you before slightly limping over to his office to do his film study.
“You really don’t need to. It’s the first week, Joe.” You tried again before he could even leave your sights.
Joe turns to face you, and gave you another reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Alright? I’ll be okay.”
He was proven very wrong when week 1 rolled in and they loss to Cleveland— a terrible start for the season, you love Joe and are pretty bias towards the Bengals but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t play like ass that day.
Joe clearly wasn’t playing like himself. Everyone with two working eyes could see that his injury was holding him back—every tackle, every run, every movement he made made you gnaw on your lips.
You knew that he was blaming himself, yet you also knew that this would only push Joe to try even harder when the one thing he should be doing is rest.
“Joe, seriously. I don’t think you should play next week.” You tried reasoning out to your hard-headed boyfriend who seemed like he had his mind already made.
“That was a terrible game we just had. Which why I need to play next week so we can start strong— get our footing back.” Joe sighed as he ran his hands over his face in frustration as he remembered his awful performance.
“You are injured— you’re calf isn’t fully healed yet, people understand.” You said standing in front of the quarterback, trying to console the inconsolable.
“That’s not an excuse.”
“It is—”
“I’m playing next week— that’s final. Now, can we please talk about something else?” Joe cuts you off.
You blinked a couple times at your boyfriend before sighing, succumbing to his request you turned to move to the kitchen.
“What do you want to eat?”
You succeeded in changing the subject to your surprise earning a appreciative smile from Joe. As you made your dinner, you conversed with your boyfriend while you thought about the next game against the Ravens.
0-2
Week 2, different team, same predicament.
The Bengals lost, again. Which honestly didn’t come as a surprise for you— it was a better game at least, compared to the shit show that was week 1.
Joe did however, re-tweak his calf. Seeing him limp off the field after the game broke your heart. You could practically feel the frustration come out of Joe from a mile away— hopefully, this time he says yes to you and rest.
However, when Joe got home, you knew right away that his injury wouldn’t him from playing.
When you opened the door to greet your boyfriend, you immediately noticed the way he was leaning all his weight on his good leg. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a tight line— you had an inkling that you were not going to like whatever he was about to say.
And you were right.
“Before you even say anything— I’m fine. I only re-tweaked it and yes, I will be playing next week.” Joe hobbled inside the house, heading towards the kitchen to fix himself a drink.
“Joe you’re not okay.” You said firmly finally putting your foot down causing Joe to turn to look at you.
“You just strained your calf, you only re-tweaked it, what the hell is next, Joe?” You said trying to keep you voice calm, however, your furious eyes staring into Joe’s was betraying what you truly felt.
Your boyfriend threw his head back with a deep sigh in frustration. You two have seem to have the same conversation over and over again every week— and Joe didn’t understand why you can’t grasp the fact that he will be present every game. While you didn’t understand that Joe can’t grasp the fact that he needed to sit his ass down before he hurts himself even more.
In all honesty, you were scared— terrified even. You knew what you signed up for the second you accepted to be Joe’s girlfriend. You understood how dangerous it’s gonna be, you understood how hard it’s going to be for the both of you. But after tearing his ACL and MCL you were just living on the edge; constantly in fear that something even terrible was going to happen.
Getting that call from Zach, shook you to your core. You remembered dreading that it was gonna be career ending, luckily it wasn’t— just a strained calf, but on the rate Joe is going, you’ll never know.
“How many times am I going to tell you that I’m fine?” Joe was finally angry… angry at you. Listening to his tone made your heart drop, yet you can’t blame him. You know how much pressure he’s in; the amount of times people called him names just because of his bad performances; especially after signing a $275 million deal.
“All I’m asking is one game, Joe. Just one. Just sit one out— if you listened to me and didn’t play week 1 we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” You said defeatedly.
“And if you listened to me you’d actually know that I’m fine.” The quarterback retaliated.
The two of you were now face to face in the kitchen, both trying not to let anger get the best of you two and scream.
“Stop saying that when you are clearly in pain, Joe!” You threw your hands up in frustration as you watched your boyfriend eye you up and down.
“I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this— it’s my health, my job, my life!” Joe grunts moving to walk away to hole himself back into his office.
His health. His job. His life. While his girlfriend is losing her goddamn mind.
“I’m concerned, Joe. It’s my job to worry about yo–”
“Then fucking don’t!” Joe snaps at you making you step back in shock.
Joe has never yelled at you, not once.
“And again, I’m playing next week whether you like it or not.” Joe’s tone finally calmed down, his blue eyes eyeing your still figure as you stared at him as if you didn’t know who he was.
Just then did Joe realized what he said to you— and moreover, how he said it. His eyes soften under the realization, his tall figure walking towards you to gather you in his arms and apologize.
But before he could do so, something snapped inside of you.
“Baby, I’m so so–”
“No. You’re right. I’m sorry.” You shook your head as if snapping yourself out of a trance before looking up at your now concerned boyfriend who was watching you closely.
His health. His job. His life.
“What do you want for dinner?” You smiled at him, the fakest one you could muster— Joe noticed, he wasn’t stupid… maybe he was a little.
“Do you want pasta? I’ll make you pasta.”
Thankfully week 3 was successful.
The Bengals’ first win of the season. The game wasn’t up to par with their usual standards of playing but a win is a win— and you were grateful for that win, for your sake and Joe’s.
The days leading up to the game against the Titans were fast approaching and Joe was frustrated. During practice he took notice how he still wasn’t 100% healthy and that bothered the quarterback; it affected his mobility and his speed mostly which throws his game off.
They won their first game of the season and Joe knows not to be complacent. Yet, he can’t help but hear that nagging voice inside his head that was telling him that you were right— hell, everyone was right. You weren’t the only one who wants him to skip a few games. Ever since his calf injury, his teammates, his coach, his parents, and the fans were all adamant for him to rest.
Obviously, Joe didn’t listen which only caused his calf to take longer to heal which you warned him would happen. As he hobbled up inside his house after practice, he was greeted by the sound of the living room TV— there you were snuggled up on the couch fully immersed as you watched your favorite show.
“Hey.” Joe announced his arrival causing you to turn the TV off and turn to him with a reserved smile.
“Hey, how was practice?” You asked before walking up to the quarterback placing a kiss on his awaiting lips.
“It was tiring as usual.” Joe stated as he wrapped his arms around your waist before continuing, “My calf is sore too.” He confessed guilt filled his face as he awaited for your reaction.
“I’ll prepare an ice compress. Sit down and elevate your leg up the couch.” You pulled away from him before pushing him down the couch lightly. You placed a few pillows at the end of the couch and carefully helped Joe place his injured leg on it.
You quietly moved to get his ice compress not saying another word which was unusual for you— shocking Joe. He was so sure the you were gonna scold him again.
But you didn’t.
You placed the ice compress on his injured calf, placed a kiss on his lips, before turning to him and saying, “I need to shower. Just yell if you need anything.”
Then you left.
No scolding, no questions, no expressing of concern— nothing.
Clearly what Joe said the other day is still bothering you. You still cared and loved the man, obviously. You still took care of him. But your opinions— as much as you’re concerned are not needed, so you kept quiet and kept them to yourself.
Joe didn’t like it at all. He knew he messed up the second he said what he said. The look on your face pained him, he hated himself for talking to you in such way and making you feel like you were in the wrong.
And now you’ve shut down.
While Joe was thankful for the ice compress, he can only hope that the next one he gets from you would be accompanied by the same smile that always greets him whenever he gets home from a long day of practice.
2-2
It was the last week of September and the Bengals were still winning. However, Joe wasn't winning.
The quarterback knew that you were still angry with him. He knew that ever since the moment he got home. It's been weeks since he had a proper conversation with you— it was as if the both of you were living separate lives, and it killed him.
Every morning he would wake up with his breakfast and medicine ready and every night, dinner would be on the table with your plate untouched and the leftovers covered and put away inside the fridge.
Joe had never been in this position before. You have never been mad at him, never. Not once. Sure, the two of you have fought over trivial things here and there but never had the two of you had a fight as big as this one.
Joe knows how much he fucked up, yet he's not sure if you were ready to forgive him or if he even deserved it.
And it seems like, the universe is testing his patience.
Joe was frustrated, so damn frustrated. This season wasn't going as well as he wanted it to go and with his calf injury, his mobility was greatly affected and the pain was also hindering him from playing to his fullest capacity.
And it was getting harder and harder to hide it from his girlfriend.
You were starting to catch on, and you were starting to suspect that something was going on with him. But being the stubborn and proud man he was, he refused to let it affect his performance, or the relationship with his girlfriend.
After an excruciating practice, the quarterback was greeted by the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, who was already in the kitchen cooking for dinner.
"Hey." Joe greeted.
"Hi." You simply greeted back without even looking up from the vegetables you were cutting.
"Smells good." He tried, wanting to engage a conversation with you.
"Thank you." You smiled before throwing the vegetables in the pan, "Dinner will be ready in a bit. Can you wash up?"
Joe stared at your back for a few moments before nodding his head, "Alright."
You heard the bathroom door close and that's when you decided to let the tears fall from your eyes.
You missed your boyfriend. You wanted your boyfriend back.
This whole thing was draining you. You hated having to keep yourself together and act as if everything was alright. It was eating you inside.
You weren't the type to hold grudges, especially to Joe. You always understood his point of view, and even if he was wrong, you'd always forgive him. But the way he talked to you last time, the way he treated you, made your heart ache.
"Fuck." You muttered as you wiped the tears from your eyes and proceeded to cook dinner.
You can't remember how long it had been since you've properly talked to Joe. The both of you have been tiptoeing around each other, not wanting to push the other's buttons.
And you were sick of it.
"How was practice?" You asked once the two of you had sat down at the dining table to eat.
Joe looked up from his food and gave you a small smile, "It was good."
You nodded your head and proceeded to eat.
"How was your day?" Joe asked after a few minutes of silence.
"It was fine."
Joe sighed before looking up at you, "Please don't do that."
"What?" You feigned innocence.
"Pretend."
"What are you talking about?" You said defensively.
"Baby, come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Joe said.
You rolled your eyes before scoffing, "I'm not pretending."
"You've barely said a word to me in the past three weeks. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"
"Oh, because you didn't say a word to me either. And you were the one who told me to not worry. So, I'm not worrying." You fired back.
"You're being stubborn."
"Oh, now I'm the stubborn one?" You chuckled sarcastically.
"Yeah. You are." Joe nodded his head.
"So, what? Are we just not going to talk until we die?"
"Well, clearly that's the option that you're leaning on."
"I can't talk to you when you're acting like a dick!" You exclaimed, clearly tired of him putting the blame on you.
"Because you're the picture perfect definition of maturity and rationality."
"You're such a fucking asshole." You muttered, pushing your plate away from you before standing up.
"Where are you going?"
“Away from you.” You moved to walk towards the bedroom.
Joe let out a frustrated groan before standing up to catch your hand in his.
“Can we please talk about this? Properly like adults?” Joe was practically begging at this point.
You stared at him, contemplating if you should actually have a civil conversation or just brush him off.
However, Joe didn't give you the time to think.
He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and sweet and everything you needed to finally snap. You pulled away and looked at him, his blue eyes gazing into yours.
"Joe..."
"I'm so sorry."
Joe didn't know where it came from. One moment he was pleading for you to listen to him, and then the next thing he knows is that his mouth was already moving, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for not listening to you, and I'm sorry for taking it all out on you. I'm sorry for hurting you, baby. I didn't mean what I said, and I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. I'm so, so sorry."
He kissed your forehead before cupping your face in his hands.
"I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm not even gonna ask if I'm forgiven because I probably don't deserve it. But, I need you to know that I'm sorry."
You looked up at him before nodding your head, "I'm not mad at you anymore, Joe. I was, and I was hurt. But I wasn't mad."
"I was hurt sure but I knew how frustrated you were and how much pressure you are in— so i understand.” You sighed. “ I hate seeing you hurt and I know how much you love your job but what if it’s also the reason you lose it?” You finally confessed as your eyes filled with a light mist.
“I just want you to rest. For a day at least— cause that is never gonna get better if you didn’t and you know it.” You pointed at his injured calf as you explained.
“Yes, baby. I know and I will.” Joe promised.
And he kept that promise— leading on after their bye week, they have been winning games after games. Joe’s performance drastically changed from how he started. Everyone could see that their quarterback was back, which you couldn’t take credit for— cause Joe was a lot of things; stubborn, hard-headed, but he is also hard working.
And you couldn’t be more proud.
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norrisleclercf1 · 11 months
Text
Secret, Secret
Pairing: Lance Stroll x Riccardio!Reader
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pregnancy talks, breastfeeding talks, nothing to bad honest;y, fluff, uncle Daniel, dad Lance, etc.
Words: 2.1K
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Hello. I’m not sure if you take requests for Lance Stroll if you don’t please pick another driver of your choice but please could I request Lance Stroll x Wife fem reader where they were the paddock ‘it’ couple but after the summer break Lance started going to races on his own and everyone thinks they have split up, when the Canada gp arrives they appear in the paddock together married and with twins and everyone finds out ect and the drives meet their baby’s (uncle Danny🥹) 🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you so much I hope that all makes sense😅
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"Where's Y/n?" Fernando asks, noticing your absence the moment Lance steps into the paddock.
Lance looks over and smiles, wanting to explain why but keeping it to himself.
"Didn't feel like coming." Lance shrugs, but Fernando doesn't buy it yet and chooses not to say anything else.
The media went crazy that weekend. The rumors circled; vultures were trying to pick at the leftovers of what couldn've gone wrong. Lance ignored them, but when asked why you weren't at the races anymore, he couldn't say. People started to say you got a divorce, but Lance's fans refused to accept it. The two of you, together, became the paddocks "it" couple very quickly.
"Did you two get a divorce and not tell me? Because that's just mean." Daniel whines one day, making Lance laugh at Daniel's whine.
"Daniel, Y/n needed a break, and I agreed with her. So, stop thinking we divorced." Lance snaps slightly, annoyed with the constant questions about it.
"Hey, I'm sorry, she just hasn't been answering my texts, and I'm worried," Daniel admits making Lance sigh and pat his shoulder. "She'll be back for the Canadian GP." Lance walks off, leaving Daniel smiling, missing his sister.
Daniel pulls out his phone and texts you, asking if you've been okay. He hasn't seen you in almost a year, dealing with everything that has happened at Mclaren and you moving to a new house. You both have been so busy, and he wished he knew more about his sister than the media.
Daniel: Please tell me you and Lance are still together? If he did something, I'd ask Max to crash him!
Y/N: Daniel!! DO not HURT my husband!!! I'm fine. We're doing great. Please wait until the Canadian GP. I promise you'll be thrilled with why I've been gone!"
Daniel: Hurry up, Canadian GP. I love you. Text me if you need me.
Y/N: I will. I love you too, Danny!
You sigh, hating that you were lying to your brother. The both of you are so close, and the fact that you haven't seen him in a year has been brutal. When you found out you were pregnant was the most incredible day of your life. Telling Lance was the second best. He had cried while he hugged you and promised to always protect you and your baby. The 3rd best day was finding out you were having twins. Finding that out, you and Lance had a serious conversation that night. Tell the world you were pregnant, or hide it from everyone.
It was the second choice. After research, you found that twin pregnancies were at risk, and you wanted to be safe and keep it quiet to have an easy and relaxed pregnancy. It wasn't, but it was a relatively healthy pregnancy, and 3 months ago, you gave birth to a boy and a girl. It was the 2nd time Lance had cried, and it was holding his babies.
Phone beeping, you pick it up and see it's Lance wanting to video chat with you.
"Hello, my gorgeous wife. Are you okay?" He asks the moment you hit accept.
"Daniel keeps asking me if we're divorced. But I've told him to hold off until the Canadian GP. Hopefully, he doesn't show up to the house." You joke, but you seriously considered that your brother could visit your home.
"Nah, he won't show up unless he really thinks something is wrong." Lance looks around before his end shakes as he moves somewhere else.
"Hey? How are our babies?" He asks, being careful to not say it too loud.
"Perfect. They're napping right now. Want to see?" You ask even though you know what his answer would be.
Moving across the house, you head up to the twins' nursey, slowly open the door, and show them to Lance.
"My sweet babies. Are they doing okay? You know you could always call Mom or Chole, hell, even Scotty, to come and help you." Lance spouts off, making you giggle at his worry.
"Lance, honey. I'm okay, really. We're doing fine. Besides, you'll be home soon." You try to squash his worry, but he just groans, rubbing his head.
"I hate being away from you 3 so soon after. Let me know if you need help. I'm serious." Lance urges as you just smile and nod, walking out of the nursery and letting the twins get some more sleep.
"Lance, I love you. I'll see you soon." You whisper, watching his dazzling smile as he repeats the words and hangs up.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm so glad it's the Canadian GP already." Lance cheers, making your little girl Eleanor gurgle as her father kisses her cheeks.
"Lance, be careful. You're going to scare Casper." Sighing, you pick up your boy.
Casper was a sweet boy who was shy and kept to himself. Eleanor was your outgoing and curious daughter who loved anything and everyone. It always made you laugh watching how they interacted with one another.
"Sorry." Lance laughs, watching as Casper cuddles into you.
"You ready?" You ask Lance as he bounces slightly to keep Eleanor calm for as long as possible.
"Of course, and we're going to be protected, and everyone is going to respect your wishes when you give them out. But Danny can finally give me peace." You laugh, packing up the car with your stroller and diaper bag.
Lance helps put the babies in the car seats and watches you double-check everything.
"Hey, we've got everything." Grabbing your hand, you sigh as you nod in agreement.
"I know." Lance smiles and pulls you over, kissing you gently. "Let's go." You smile before kissing him again as you climb into the passenger side.
Pulling up to the paddock parking, you take a deep breath calming yourself. Grabbing your hand, Lance pulls it up and kisses your wedding ring in a way that comforts you. To always remind you that both of you are in this together.
You don't get the chance to get out before Fernando pops up next to your window, a little scream at him suddenly popping up.
"Damn, Fernando, give her a chance to get out of the car." Lance groans, but the Spaniard laughs as you open the car door.
"Oh, I have missed you!" Fernando laughs, hugging you tightly, hugging him back just as tight.
"Why haven't you been around for almost a year. It hurt us." The man whines as Lance opens the side door, and the Aston Martin driver sees the reason.
"Twins?" He asks in awe, then looks back at you. "Does Daniel know?" You shake your head, giving him your answer.
"Hermana. Why didn't you tell us? You could've supported you." Fernando sighs and hugs you again as you try not to cry already.
"We thought it'd be best, Fernando. The press, fans, everything. We decided not to tell anyone when we found out she was pregnant with twins. Her parents and mine know, but Scotty and Chole found out 2 weeks ago. And today, we tell everyone and you guys." Lance explains, pulling out Casper, who whines and buries himself into his fathers' hold.
"Want to hold Eleanor? She is more welcoming to strangers than Casper." Fernando smiles and holds his arms out as Eleanor is placed gently.
"She's gorgeous." He whispers and automatically starts swaying side to side as she wakes from her little sleep.
Opening her eyes, she stares at Fernando, who smiles, pulling her closer.
"I'll destroy anyone who thinks they can hurt you." He says sweetly, making you laugh and grab Eleanor, who gurgles and shakes her hands before settling down in your hold.
"I'll see you inside, yes? If anyone gives you trouble, let me know." Fernando kisses your temple before patting Lance on the back, whispering something in his ear that has Lance laugh and turn red.
"What did he say?" You ask, grabbing the stroller and placing the diaper bag in the bottom.
"Don't worry about it." Lance shakes his head, but you don't.
"Lance." Your husband sighs and moves closer to you so no one else hears.
"He said I must have magic balls to get you knocked up with twins the first time." You laugh, making Casper jump and whine, having Lance comfort him immediately.
"Shhh, Mommy, that was mean." Lance teases, but you roll your eyes, heading to the entrance.
Scanning in, people notice you two and start taking pictures. Thankfully no one comes up close and in your space. They keep their distance as they take picture after picture.
"Shut the fuck up!" Lance laughs as he gets stopped by Mick and Esteban, who stand there shocked, seeing their best friend and his wife holding two babies.
"Hey, language." You tease, but Esteban waves you off as he approaches Lance.
"Who is this little guy?" Esteban asks, being very careful to not startle the baby.
"This is Casper." Lance turns Casper slightly, who just sleeps peacefully in his father's arms.
"God, Lance, he looks just like you." Esteban laughs as Mick watches Eleanor look around.
"Twins, each just like you." Mick smiles, sticking a finger out. Eleanor grabs it and puts it in he mouth.
"Eleanor, no." Mick laughs as he watches you pull his finger out of her daughter's mouth, telling you his hands are clean.
"I know, but still, she's young." Mick nods in understanding the 4 of you talking as they coo over the babies.
"Lance, we should get going. I'm going to have to feed them soon." Lance nods as Mick and Esteban say bye but tell you they're coming to spend time with the babies after the race.
Getting to the Hospitality suite Lance, gets you settled, everyone being respectful, waving, and not bothering you too much.
"See, we're okay." Lance kisses the side of your head as you bottle-feed the babies.
Breastfeeding was rough initially, and you decided to bottle feed as it would give each twin the nutrients they need rather than running low and worrying about it.
"I know-" You get cut off when Lance's media manager pops up.
"I tried to stop him, but, yeah, sorry." They disappear and are soon replaced with your brother, who stops seeing the four of you.
"Danny." You sigh, but he just holds his hand up and walks closer, taking in the sight of the twins.
"You were pregnant with twins, gave birth, and you didn't tell me?" He asks, sitting down next to you and touching Eleanor's cheek.
"Danny, we wanted the pregnancy to be as easy as possible, I wanted to tell you, but we thought this way was best." You explain, but Daniel laughs, tears in his eyes as he hugs you.
"Oh god, they're gorgeous." He cries as you lean into his hug, crying with him.
"Can I hold them?" He asks Lance smiling as he slowly puts Casper in his Uncle's arms. With breaths held, you waited for Casper to start crying. Instead, he snuggles into Daniel's chest.
"He loves you." You whisper, watching his hands cradle Casper closer as the little boy moves closer, trying to bury a hole for himself.
"Well, duh, I'm his Uncle." He sticks his tongue out at you, but Lance shakes his head no.
"Daniel, he hates being held by anyone but us. This...this is big for him." Lance smiles, wanting to cry at the fact that someone else can hold his son now.
"Hah! Suck on that, Scotty. I really am the favorite Uncle." Snorting at your brother's childish behavior, you watch the two interact.
"I call babysitting duties." "Deal!" Lance and you shout, making Daniel look up, shocked at your sudden acceptance.
"Wow, guess mommy and daddy need some private time," Daniel whispers to Casper, but you don't disagree with the statement.
"Hey? What's their names?" Daniel asks, making you both smile.
"You're holding, Casper Daniel Stroll. And this is Eleanor Claire-Ann Stroll." Lance announces, watching fresh tears fall down Daniel's eyes.
"No wonder he likes me. We have the same name." He chokes out, holding the boy closer, who just whined before closing his eyes.
"I'm keeping him." Daniel nods as you just sigh, but Lance takes it seriously.
"Like hell, you will." Daniel sticks his tongue out and shields Casper from Lance's hands.
"Off, you knocked my sister up. Give me this." Lance rolls his eyes and then smirks.
"Dude, you're holding my sperm. Really want to keep it?" Lance asks, having Daniel look down at his nephew.
"Take him back." You laugh as Daniel shivers at the thought.
Looking around, you smile at your husband and brother fighting over your little boy; looking down at Eleanor, you kiss her little forehead.
"You're both so loved." Smiling at your little family.
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