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#that would completely take away from the point the movie was trying to make
ladykailitha · 2 days
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A Love Connection Part 1
In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!
If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.
This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.
Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?
~
Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.
And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.
“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.
“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”
Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.
“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”
Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”
“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”
“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”
Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”
Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.
~
Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.
“Love Connection”
“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”
“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”
Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.
Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.
Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.
To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.
It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.
“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”
“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”
Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”
Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”
Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.
“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”
Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”
“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”
So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.
When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”
Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.
“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”
Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”
“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”
Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”
“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”
“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”
Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.
They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”
“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”
Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”
It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.
~
There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.
He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.
“Hey!” she yelped.
Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.
“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.
“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”
Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”
Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.
“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.
He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.
While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.
Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.
Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.
They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.
Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”
~
Part 2
Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...
Have fun!
Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN
1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
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bloodybellycomb · 2 years
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"They didn't actually burn the Mona Lisa, the real one is made of wood, not paper, like in the film!! Of course they wouldnt have given miles bron the real one!!"
Yeah...they didn't burn the real Mona Lisa...because it's a movie. Another thing is that paper might just look better than wood when it burns on film. Not only that, but it's very realistic that miles would have obtained the real one. Rich people buy one of a kind, priceless art all the time, just because they believe they have that right.
Also, in the context of the film, it had to be the real Mona Lisa; Helen's plan wouldn't work if it turned out to be a fake. Miles would never always be mentioned in the same breath as the Mona Lisa if the real one didn't burn.
I'm sorry if this makes people uncomfortable but in the Rian Johnson cinematic universe, the real Mona Lisa has been reduced to ashes.
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colonelarr0w · 5 months
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Collapse Into Me
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After a particularly rough day, how do these JJK characters offer their comfort?
INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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SATORU is more than happy to gather you in his arms and let you lay there. To him, there's no greater comfort than you laying in his arms, your head tucked perfectly underneath his chin with one hand tangled in your hair and the other tracing mindless shapes into the exposed skin of your back. He'd let you ramble about what made your day so terrible and offer little hums between your sentences – never once interrupting you or making you feel as if he wasn't listening. He would only offer his advice if you wanted it, and even then it was the most heartfelt words he'd ever spoken to you.  
"I'm here for you sweet thing. Just let it all out, okay? Don't want you holding anything in." 
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SUGURU makes it his personal mission to take your mind off of whatever might have bothered you throughout the course of your day. When you return home, the first thing that he notices is your dulled mood – how your eyes focus on anything but him and how you try your hardest to hide the growing tremble to your lips. He doesn't draw attention to it, not wanting to accidentally upset you further. Instead he just pulls you into the living room, where he's set up a small fort for just the two of you; complete with your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as a movie that you had mentioned enjoying.  
"I know you've had a tough day angel, but you're here now with me. Come on, make yourself comfy." 
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KENTO's comfort is the personification of a warm hug paired with gentle, featherlight kisses. He cradles you in his arms for however long you need, rocking your bodies back and forth, his chest rumbling in a gentle hum against the skin of your cheek. He'll guide you to sit down, fingers interlocking with your own as his softened eyes scan over your twisted expression, beautiful features scrunched up in sadness. He'll kiss away the tears as they trickle down your cheeks, offering you words of comfort that he wished he had heard during his moments of need.  
"Come now darling, don't cry. I'm right here with you, everything is going to be alright." 
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TOJI is at first very arrogant, smirking down at you and bluntly pointing out the tears that you're trying so desperately to keep hidden from his gaze. But when he sees that the events of your day had truly left you shaken and unhappy, he's tugging you to his chest and hiding you away from the world. The entirety of your body is dwarfed by his massive frame, face squished into his chest as he leans back on the couch, tugging you over him like a weighted blanket. He says absolutely nothing as you keep yourself hidden away, but he doesn't miss the feeling of your tears as they fall delicately onto his skin. Only when you lift your head to glance up at him does he thumb away your tears — hushing you with a softness that not even he knew that he was capable of.  
"Alright kid, you're okay. 'm right here with ya, shh." 
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CHOSO sits silently with you, both of you simply sitting in the silence that your sadness provides. His fingers are folded together with your own, the pad of his thumb swiping against the back of your knuckle every now and then – another silent reminder that he was there with you. No words need to be exchanged, not that he would mind if you spoke. If you'd rather talk, he will gladly listen. And if not, he's more than okay with sitting beside you, allowing your body to rest against his own. Your head is laid against his shoulder, fingers interlocked, and for a moment, nothing else in the world truly matters.  
"'m here, you don't need to be upset anymore." 
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RYOMEN might not know how to comfort people, but somehow, he figures it out quickly the moment that he sees you curling away from his touch. The tears that adorn your waterline are not a foreign sight to him, but that doesn't mean that he ever wants to see that expression on your face. He doesn't offer you words of comfort, after all, his tongue was sharp and made of silver – it likely would do more harm if he were to open his jaw. Instead, he offers to you a softness that had only ever been reserved for you anyway. He'll let you lay beside him, sharpened fingernails scraping through your hair just like you did for him on those nights where he pretended to be asleep. He may not be the best at comforting, but to you, his presence was warmth personified – a warmth that you needed to combat the coldness of your day.  
"Tch, shut up and let me do this for you … little brat." 
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HIROMI grants you the space that you need to process whatever it is you may be feeling. He'll sit quietly outside of the closed bedroom or bathroom door, simply resting his head against the wall and listening to the softened sniffles that you're trying your best to keep locked within your chest. The moment that the door slides open and you sit quietly at his side, he wraps you up in his arms and allows you to sob into him. Please let everything out in his arms, the last thing that he wants is for you to wake later in the night with your body debilitated by sadness that you had accidentally left to fester. He wants you to know that he is there for you, and if holding you is the way to go about it, then he will happily let his arms go numb for your sake.  
"There, there my love. You've nothing to waste your tears over … I'm here, you're safe." 
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INO is initially silent when you return home distraught after a tough day, but the moment that you sit beside him and let out that heavy sigh that says “I’m exhausted”, he is wrapping you up in a thickened blanket and rushing around the apartment like a chicken devoid of a head. He piles snacks and drinks onto the coffee table and shuffles through the drawer that is filled to the brim with various DVDs. He holds up various options, feeling his heart sink further and further into his stomach at your lack of an answer. After talking to a brick wall, he decides to just sit in silence with you, hugging you against him and deciding that — maybe — a nap was all that you needed. 
“You comfortable sweetheart? Oh … okay, okay. ‘m here, just rest, yeah?” 
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YUUTA offers to walk around Jujutsu Tech with you after finding out about how terrible your day had been, smiling at you and taking both of your hands into his own. He even tells Rika to leave him undisturbed for a few hours, directing all of his attention to you. The silence of your walk is filled with your ramblings about your day, complaints about Gojo, worries about upcoming missions, anything and everything that might be bothering you. He’ll offer advice where it’s needed, cracking jokes if the situation calls for it — but his main focus is being there, being the ear that you so desperately need.  
“I’m sorry angel, I wish that there was more that I could do. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 
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INUMAKI is the king of distracting you when you’re upset, opening his dorm up to you and allowing you to hide away in it as if you had spent your entire life living there. He silences his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on you and the things that you want to do in order to take your mind off of whatever had happened prior to seeing him. He’ll offer you the second controller and go easy on you, allowing you to beat him and rub it into his face — eyes crinkling in a loving smile as the spark returns to your expression and body language.  
“Tuna mayo. (I love you).” 
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YUUJI is on the verge of tears when he sees your pained expression, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a bone-crushing embrace. He tucks you into his arms, his heart clenching in his chest as you sob into him. His hands rub up and down the length of your back, cheek resting against the top of your head as he shushes you — wanting you to calm down enough so that he could try and help you. He does his best to hold back his own tears, but your sadness is his own, and seeing you so distraught was only making him feel worse and worse by the second. But he hopes that his hug is enough to remind you that he's there with you … and that he was never leaving. 
"Shhh baby, I'm here! I'm right here with you, you're okay … please don't cry." 
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MEGUMI almost immediately brings out his Divine Dogs at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks – knowing that the dogs would work wonders in bringing you comfort. He sits quietly beside you on the couch, not daring to utter a word as you thread your fingers through the thick fur of one of the dogs, smiling tearfully as it nuzzles affectionately into your hand. He doesn’t say anything to you, nor does he offer any kind of reaction when you shift your body to lean comfortably against him. He wraps his arms firmly around you, resting his chin on top of your head and letting out a small sigh through his nose. He may be the silent type — but his silence cuts through your sadness like a burning knife. It’s comforting … and just so undoubtedly him. 
“Is this okay? Alright … I’m here for you, I hope you know that.” 
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .
Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute
them having a younger s/o
content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.
wc: 1056
a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:
masterlist
seungcheol -
he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.
jeonghan -
being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.
joshua -
tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.
jun -
how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.
soonyoung -
he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).
wonwoo -
absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.
jihoon -
he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.
seokmin -
he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.
mingyu -
yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!
minghao -
ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.
seungkwan -
he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).
vernon -
gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.
chan -
as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.
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slutforln4 · 6 months
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high enough
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🖇️ in which you get high and fuck your brothers teammate
🖇️ lando norris x piastri!reader
🖇️ warnings: sex under the influence, no condom (wrap it before you tap it folks!), 2.3k words :)
🖇️ a pretty self indulgent fic, but i hope you guys like it!
🖇️ songs that fit: so high - doja cat / slow down - chase atlantic / friends - chase atlantic / sex money feelings die - lykke li / the morning - the weeknd / cherry hill - russ
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You watched as the smoke rose to the ceiling after the soft puff past your lips. The swirling of smoke hypnotised you, before it twirled and disappeared into nothing.
The joint burned between your fingers when you passed it to Lando. “You have a few puffs left.”
Lando was completely out of it, practically melting into the couch when he mindlessly lifted his arm and softly plucked the joint from your fingers. You turned your head and watched as he brought it to his lips, taking a long drag before pulling the burning bud away from his face.
He could feel your gaze on him, burning about five times as hot as the smoke in his lungs. He can’t lie and say he doesn’t like you staring when all he’s been thinking of was making your eyes roll back into your head. The image of you sprawled across the couch, his lips soaked in you and moans leaving your mouth was enough to make him go crazy.
“You’re taking too long,” you rush him. He turns his head to you, half-lidded eyes hiding so much more than what he lets you see. You could look at those green hues forever, but the soft pull of his lips pulls you back into reality. Or as much of it as you can comprehend in this state.
Lando motions to the joint in his fingers. “You want another hit?”
“Yeah,” you nod, about to take the bud from his hand before he pulls it to his mouth and takes a long drag. “What the–”
Your question gets interrupted when Lando’s hand firmly grips the back of your head and pulls your face in. When he blows the smoke out, you’re quick to understand what he’s doing and suck the smoke in.
Lando smiled to himself as he pulled away, watching how starstruck you were by what he just did.
Even though all he meant to do was to shotgun smoke into your mouth, you can’t help but pull him in to close the gap between your lips. The urge to kiss him was too much to handle for you, even when sober, but the confidence to finally kiss him came when being inebriated.
Lando can’t deny that he’s been thinking the same— he’s been pondering the thought of kissing your lips way before you decided to smoke. He’s been waiting for you to make the first move, knowing you definitely would at some point, and he wasn’t wrong.
Smoke left the crevices forming between your lips as you moulded against one another, hungry hums and whimpers already leaving your throats. Lando’s hands softly pulled your hips closer to him until you ended up in his lap.
The mere feeling of you sat on him, already pulsing against him, had his mind reeling. You felt him hardening underneath you, perfectly slotting his boner against your clothed entrance.
You smirked into the kiss, a single thought popping into your head— teasing him.
The two of you had made a deal. You’d spend some time together, just as friends, before trying to be in a relationship. That seemed to work, for about three weeks, until this night when you invited Lando to hang out. It was supposed to be nothing but you watching a movie together, until you remembered the leftover weed in your grinder.
You remember the light in his eyes when he heard you mention weed. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any,” he said. But you promised to take care of him.
And take care of him you will.
Lando’s mind is a mush, any movement he makes feels like he’s slowed down or like it’s missing frames, so he doesn’t understand that you’re softly rocking your hips against him until he feels the need to fuck you again.
“Love,” his raspy voice whispers against your numb lips, fingers digging into your skin to stop your movements. “What’re you doing?”
“Hm?” You pull away, softly biting your lips as your hands brace you against his chest, hips stilling above his dick. “What do you mean?”
You watch as his lips pull into a smirk again. “Don’t play stupid,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you want me to fuck you, just say that.”
The tone of his voice mixed with the haze settling in your mind just after that last puff of smoke you had is making you think less and do more. Instead of answering him, you crash your lips onto his again and subconsciously go back to rocking your hips again.
He smirks against your mouth, guiding your hips to grind harder against him. You whimper and he catches the noise with his mouth, tongue swirling against yours when you wrap your fingers softly around the base of his neck.
Lando’s hands softly tug on the waistband of your sweatpants. “Take them off.”
You hum, lips still connected to him as you lift yourself up and tug your pants down. They pool at your knees, you still straddling Lando. “Can’t do it.”
“You want me to do it for you?” He asks, more of a mock than a laugh leaving his mouth. When you nod, eyes still half-lidded and examining him, he lays you down with your head on the armrest of the couch. You watch carefully as he softly tugs your sweatpants lower, before completely tugging them off your body.
Lando sits back, hands on your knees as he memorises the view of you— underwear soaked with your need for him, sticking to the curves of your pussy so perfectly that it leaves little to the imagination.
“Can I?” Lando asks, fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties. You nod, like you’ve been doing for pretty much this whole exchange, and he can’t help but beg you to speak. “You gotta use your words, baby.”
“Please,” you beg, voice hushed as if you’re scared anyone in your empty house would hear you. “Touch me, I need you.”
Lando laughed, almost pitifully at your state as he pulled the panties down your legs, agonisingly slow. You were too high to function enough, so your plea for him to move faster came out as an annoyed grumble.
“Impatient much?” Lando laughed, hands softly dragging their way up your legs from your ankles. When he notices the lack of response from you, he stills. “You okay? How do you feel?”
“I’m good,” you mumble, peeling your eyes open to look up at his worried eyes. “But you could make me feel much better.”
You smile at the return of his smirk. You’ve grown quite fond of it, getting used to the look of his dimples returning. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby. Are you sure you want this, though? You know what Osc would do if he found out.”
“But he won’t,” you bite back a smirk of your own, propping yourself up on your elbows. “He doesn’t have to know about everything I do.”
“Atta girl.” He smiles before positioning himself between your legs. “Lean back and relax for me, pretty.”
You do as told, laying back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. It took you a moment to realise that he was just looking at you, admiring the view in front of him.
It’s exactly what he imagined. He couldn’t help but watch as your chest rose and fell with fast-paced breaths, anticipation creeping up your spine with each moment. It took everything he had in him not to fuck you right then and there.
Instead, he dragged his tongue through your folds, the taste of you being almost as satisfying than what he thinks fucking you will feel like. Lando wants to take it easy and make the most of your high, so that’s exactly what he’ll do.
It doesn’t take long before he hears the pretty moans fall from your lips at the mere contact of his tongue on your clit. He circles it, gently sucking on it and you feel like you’re floating in space, so relaxed and pleased that it’s almost too much to take.
“Taste so fucking good,” he groans against you, the sound vibrating through your body. You felt some pressure on your clit, his tongue circling it again.
Jagged breaths leave your lips, the feeling of his lips softly suckling on you mixed with the buzz from the joint tipped you over the edge way sooner than you’d expect. You felt the euphoria was over you as he still flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud.
“Lan,” you murmur, fingers somehow in his hair and tugging hard on it. You felt the pattern of his curls embrace your fingers as you arched your back, almost pulling away from him.
Lando wouldn’t have that. His hands firmly gripped your hips and pinned them down. Instead of letting you squirm away, he forced his tongue onto your clit harder, using the base of it to get as much surface area as he can get.
You felt dizzy. It’s the first time you’ve done anything sexual while high and it was better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You almost feel numb, as if you were melting into the couch.
Lando felt your hips tense in his hands, knowing you’re close to tipping over the edge, so he does what he promised you he’d do. He makes you feel the fucking best.
His tongue licks you like he’s a starved man, thirsty for anything he can get his pretty little lips on. And it just so happened to be you.
Lando basks in the pretty whimpers leaving your mouth and the flavour of you on his tongue, not noticing how he let one of his hands travel down to his dick. He palms himself through the fabric of his grey sweatpants, a wet spot already evident.
You feel him moan into your pussy, sending that last nervous impulse that makes you finish all over his mouth. He laps you up, satisfied groans and moans escaping between shallow breaths.
Lando keeps his lips on your skin, kissing your thighs before softly biting them. He mumbles something to you but you can’t hear, too busy looking at the pathetic mess of a man at the end of the couch— sloppily marking your thighs while he continues to palm himself.
“Let me help you,” you whisper and he whips his head up. You watch as he sits up, tugging his sweats down and leaving his boxers on.
Lando watches as you straddle his thighs and softly tug down the Jack&Jones waistband of his boxers. He hisses when his dick flings up and slaps against his clothed abdomen.
It’s your turn to hear the string of curse words and moans leave his mouth as you drag his tip across your folds before sinking onto him, his dick filling you up in just the right way.
“Fuck, baby,” he hums contently, one of his hands palming the back of your neck before he pulls you in for a kiss. “You take me so well, so fucking well.”
You whimper into his mouth, slowly moving your hips after getting used to the size of him. His breath hitches, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you sink back onto him again.
The pace of you riding him quickens in no time, the noise of skin-on-skin contact filling up the empty space of your room.
Lando’s fingers tangle in your hair as he turns your head to the side, lips making a trail of kisses down from your jaw and ending at your collarbone, with the occasional hickey or nibble between kisses.
“Lando,” you moan his name the second you make contact with your clit, lazily rubbing it to match the pace of your hips clashing against his.
His lips make contact with yours again, kissing you with an aggression you’ve never felt before. It was borderline addicting, kissing you. Like a drug Lando knows he would never stop taking.
“You sound so pretty moaning my name,” he mumbles between kisses, not long before his tongue tastes your mouth again.
“I’m close,” you whine, arm tired from rubbing your clit. Lando notices the twitch of your hand and takes over, his thumb matching the pace you had set before.
His hips buckle and a knot forms in your lower belly at the feeling of him pulsing even deeper inside you, your walls embracing his length perfectly. “Me too. Think you can gimme another one?”
“Mhm,” you nod, eagerly. “Please.”
“You don’t have to beg for me to make you cum, princess.” His mocking tone soothes your ears. It’s quite an opposite feeling from the harsh grip he has on your hip with his left hand, the other still toying your throbbing clit.
It’s a few seconds before you feel a warmth filling you up, a string of moans and curses leaving Lando’s lips. It doesn’t take long for you to do the same, head tilted back and chest heaving with hasty breaths and an unsteady heartbeat.
Lando’s hands still guide your hips for a bit longer, before coming to a halt. The green in his eyes traces all over your face, looking for a sign of anything negative. Instead he finds that you’re grinning.
“You good?” He asks, fingers softly tucking the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead.
“Never been better,” you reciprocate the same thing, playing with the curls at the front of his head. “But you fucked me so good I’m not high anymore.”
“Want me to roll another one?”
“No,” you lean in and close the gap between your lips. “Kissing you gets me high enough.”
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egcdeath · 5 months
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life's a beach
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!
For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.
That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.
You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.
Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!
You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.
After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.
But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.
Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.
With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.
With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.
You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.
It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.
As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.
“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.
“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.
You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”
“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.
“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”
You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.
“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.
Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.
He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.
“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.
——————
One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.
As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.
With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.
You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.
Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.
“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.
“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”
She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”
You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.
“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.
“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.
“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.
“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.
“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”
“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.
“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”
“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.
“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.
She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“
“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.
“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.
“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”
“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”
“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.
“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.
“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”
“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”
——————
After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.
Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.
You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.
After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.
You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.
“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.
“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”
“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.
“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.
He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”
You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.
“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.
“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”
“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”
You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.
“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”
You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.
You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.
What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.
Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.
“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.
You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”
You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.
What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.
With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.
“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.
“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.
“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.
“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”
“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”
“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.
“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.
Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”
“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.
“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”
“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.
You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”
If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.
While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.
But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.
While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.
Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.
You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.
“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.
Was he about to ask you out on a date?
“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.
“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.
“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”
The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.
After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.
“One check or two?” they asked you.
“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.
“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”
“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.
Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.
“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.
You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”
“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.
“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.
“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.
“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”
“So?” he replied.
“So you want to break in?”
“Why not?” he shot back.
You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.
“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.
Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.
With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.
“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.
“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.
After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.
You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.
Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”
“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.
You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”
“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.
“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.
“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”
“So why’d you do it?”
“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”
“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”
“I mean it.”
“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”
“You weren’t.”
“What if I just didn’t react, then?”
“You did,” he said.
“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.
“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.
Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.
“What was that one for?”
For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.
You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.
You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.
You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.
“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”
Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.
“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.
“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without
“What?”
“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.
“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.
“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.
“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.
“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.
“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.
The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.
The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.
“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.
“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.
“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.
It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.
With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”
“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.
“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”
Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.
After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.
“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.
The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.
You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.
“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.
As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.
“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.
“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”
“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.
“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”
“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.
You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”
“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.
“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”
“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”
“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”
“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.
You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”
“Clearly,” he shook his head.
“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”
“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.
You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.
“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.
“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.
In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.
You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.
You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.
You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.
After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.
He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.
Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.
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jnece-maharlika · 4 months
Text
Pt2Danny Accidentally becomes the Ghost king, the president and the biggest threat to Bruce's social status.
Pt 1 link:
Part 2 Danny becomes the president.
Amity Parkers are the most adaptable people in the world. They're barely fazed by anything.
If you throw them into a situation that they are very unfamiliar with, it'll only take them five minutes to adjust before they start planning on how to live with this situation.
The Amity Parker mindset is: "Oh, I guess this is happening now."
So when the ghosts start attacking? The Amity Parkers immediately look for ways to avoid and protect themselves from the ghosts, not even questioning why ghosts are real. The only thing they think about is, "Damn, there's a ghost. I hope it doesn't attack the theater; I really want to see that movie."
When Phantom had his debut as a hero? The Amity Parkers started looking for ways to help, ways to keep out of his way (some to try and keep him away). The thought running through their minds was, "So this one is trying to protect us? Guess we have a hero now."
Amity Parkers don't spend their time getting mad at the sudden change of routine, the sudden loss of normalcy, or the broken buildings. Amity Parkers don't ask why and how ghosts are real, don't question if all ghosts are evil or if there are some good ghosts, and don't even think of how to get rid of them completely (they're part of the community now). They only look for ways to keep themselves from getting overshadowed. They definitely don't spend time thinking if the ghosts could bring more danger in the future or looking for more information for possible contingency plans. They aren't Batman; they believe that if the present is good, then the future will be better.
Point is, Amity Parkers are resilient and adaptable. They will take everything in stride and focus on the present. So what if some ghosts attack and block the street? They need to get to work, so they'll just drive around it.
After the whole Pariah Dark thing, they become liminal, gaining some form of super strength and glowing eyes (symptoms vary based on how strong the radiation on a person is). A normal human would think, "OH MY GOD, I'M DYING!" The Amity Parkers went, "Oh, cool, this is cool, but now I'm having a problem with opening doors without breaking the knob. Maybe the Fentons could do something about it, make stronger knobs or something."
When some babies started gaining some inhuman features? Some start floating? (Sharper ears, fangs. Babies adapt to things faster, so they get more ecto radiation.) The Amity parents went, "Is there a way to keep my child on the ground without leashing them like a dog?" Then proceeded to make a help blog for other Amity parents dealing with the same things.
So when the ghosts start becoming more of the community rather than enemies, the Amity Parkers just shrugged and asked for a book of ghost customs so they don't accidentally offend them.
When the Fentons started making ghost and human-safe items, no one even questioned why Danny had so much money and was funding his parents' research.
When Danny's name was almost (if not) in everything and he seemed to own most of the town, no one questioned it.
But everything changed when the GIW came again. Even the Amity Parkers weren't expecting this change.
The GIW waltzed in, claiming the liminal town was theirs to play with and started attacking everyone, including the Amity Parkers. The Amity Parkers went full defense mode, protecting the ghosts that were now their friends/neighbors/lovers, making sure that nothing would harm them.
They learned that it was Vlad who called on the GIW. He was pissed and petty that the crown was taken from him and decided to report his liminal town, pretending to be a "concerned mayor" who "wants his people to be healed."
The Amity Parkers were mad... they were furious.
And in the moment they saw Phantom fall to the ground, unconscious, and watched him de-transform from the hero King Phantom to the kid that owns and funds the most helpful companies in town, something changed. Something in the Amity Parkers changed.
Keep in mind that Amity Parkers don't change; they remain the same as they adapt to whatever change the world throws at them.
NEVER ONCE HAD THE AMITY PARKERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CHANGE THEMSELVES.
The first thing they changed? Their mentality. NEVER AGAIN WERE THEY GOING TO LET OUTSIDE FACTORS CHANGE THEIR LIVES. THIS IS THEIR TOWN AND IT WILL STAY THAT WAY.
God help the GIW for being their first victims.
An angry town of liminals, ghosts, and borderline gods, who have access to the Fentons' very destructive and effective technology.
Vs.
The regular GIW humans with anti-ghost tech they stole from the Fentons and nothing against liminals.
The battle was a swift victory, destroying not only the GIW in town but also all of its branches (and Vlad) with almost no traces of them even existing in the first place.
The change didn't stop there, however.
The Amity Parkers banded together with Team Phantom and the Fentons (minus Danny, as he is healing and shouldn't know about their plans; the hero should rest) and took out some of that ghost king money that Danny's trying to get rid of. They crashed the UN meeting while kidnapping the president of America.
The Amity Parkers have decided that Amity Park is theirs; it belongs to the people and its heroes. But how is it supposed to be truly theirs if they have to follow the rules of the country that funded the GIW?
A couple of death threats, bribing, more death threats and more money bribing to make sure the anti ecto acts are gone and the League of Bitches (Phantom called the JL that, and the Amity Parkers decided it was true) doesn't know about it, and a couple of hours in the nightmare realm (courtesy of Fright Knight, who happily participated when he found out what happened), and Amity Park was now its own independent country.
They decided that Tucker was to be a main part of security, letting him put up another firewall like the GIW did to make sure no one knows about their country. They don't want the League of Bitches or any outsider in the King's Haunt. It's theirs now; it belongs to the Ghost King of Amity Park, outsiders be gone.
And when it came to deciding who would be leader? There was no hesitation as they wrote down:
Daniel "Danny Phantom" Fenton, King of the Infinite Realms, King and President of Amity Park.
___________________
A couple of years later, Batman, finding hints of a "Lazarus pit" in Illinois, send Flash to look around for anything suspicious. Flash, hyper focused on following his gps, hits a wall, literally faceplants into it.He double checks his map, the wall wasn't supposed to be there. He goes around it, there no way in, no way out. He goes back to batman and reports.
Pt3 soon.
Tags as requested
@nana-mizu-shiki
@talia-scar123
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monamipencil · 2 months
Text
loser! wonwoo
genre; nsfw, some fluff, mdni <3 | tw; oral, (f. receiving), outdoor sex (but not public), unprotected sex (don't do this), he's such a loser, masturbating (m.) | a/n; no wonwoo fic is complete without some nasty pussy-eating. 😌
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loser! wonwoo who, as you guessed, doesn't get laid as much as other guys his age. which is completely fine, and he likes to focus on academics anyway.
loser! wonwoo whose sleep schedule, if not ruined by his disruptive habits, is ruined by all the boners he conjures in a single night. which, again, is completely fine because he doesn't jerk off as much which induces more nightly erections.
loser! wonwoo who's a good acquaintance of yours and used to act normal around you. or, at least that's what you think.
loser! wonwoo who always had a small crush on you but kept it hidden. and yes, the first time you smiled at him, it got him all sweaty and hard.
loser! wonwoo whose bubble breaks after a wet dream about you. he fucks his hand in the middle of the night, quietly groaning your name. he curses you and your fucking tight tops that always shows off your tits.
loser! wonwoo who doesn't take the hint that he's being hit on. or, he does but denies it. why would a girl like you hit on a guy like him? it doesn't make sense to him.
loser! wonwoo who's tired of finding explanations on the internet to validate his being. whether it's not getting laid as much or having constant boners, or turning down your attempts to flirt with him, it all points to one thing. he's the biggest fucking loser to grace the earth.
loser! wonwoo who cannot stand the sight of you flirting with soonyoung at all. and he knows you're doing this to mess with him. he smirks after catching you check whether he's looking or not for the hundredth time.
loser! wonwoo whose last straw is you kissing soonyoung's cheek. but what the fuck is he supposed to do? should he barge in and whisk you away? but that's out of touch with reality and he can only watch in a trance.
loser! wonwoo who gets snapped out of his trance when you appear in front of him like witchcraft. you don't say much but offer him a glare and pass him a movie ticket. “at 7pm today, pick me up.”
loser! wonwoo who does as you said. he nervously waits for you, fiddling with the leather jacket that he borrowed and fixing his hair a thousand times.
loser! wonwoo looking into a mirror and fixing a stray hair when you finally meet him outside your apartment. you try stifle your giggles when he awkwardly greets you but a part of you feels like you maybe forced this date on him.
loser! wonwoo who's freaking out because you look fucking gorgeous and his dick decides it wants to greet you as well.
loser! wonwoo who has a hard time, hiding his boner and being a gentleman at the same time.
loser! wonwoo who visibly tenses, noticing that the theatre is ... empty? his heart beat quickens and he notes your expression too. but you seem unfazed, like you expected this.
loser! wonwoo who nearly dies from palpitations as the screening starts. still no one in sight. he tries out every method known to humanity to calm down.
loser! wonwoo who freezes when you shift closer to him, thighs pressing against his. he removes his jacket when he notices that you feel cold and drapes it over you. you thank him and kiss his cheek.
loser! wonwoo who absolutely did not have a internal breakdown at that. the cold air bites his skin and his growing boner does not help at all.
loser! wonwoo who loses it when you press your chest into his biceps and look at him with your needy eyes.
loser! wonwoo who gropes and squeezes your tits. he pinches your nipples, rolling the bud between his fingers. you moan, letting him do as he pleases.
loser! wonwoo who makes out sloppily with you. he kisses you so deeply, tongue gliding over yours. his hands wander all over your body, eager to learn the crooks and nooks of it.
loser! wonwoo who bruises your skin, sucking and biting it. he gropes you, in every way he's imagined.
loser! wonwoo who fucks you with so much need. he pants, removing his pants and boxers in a hurry. the need to be inside you was greater than being caught.
loser! wonwoo who moans so prettily as he thrust his hips up, meeting yours in a hurry. “god, you're so wet. fuckk-” his eyebrows knit and his lips bruise from the sheer pressure of his teeth.
loser! wonwoo who comes in no time as you clench and milk him. you groan in unison when he pulls out, releasing his seed all over your thighs.
loser! wonwoo who apologizes and immediately gets on his knees to eat you out. he sloppily kisses your cunt and sucks on the little bundle of nerves.
loser! wonwoo who uses all the tips and tricks he read on the internet to make you cum. he presses his tongue flat against your heat, licking up a broad stripe. he noses your clit, while his tongue prods at the insides of your cunt.
loser! wonwoo who fucks you with his tongue. you moan, hips bucking into his face as he pushes his tongue in and out of you. his calloused fingers rub your clit, throwing you over the edge.
loser! wonwoo who makes you cum all over his face. his glasses fog up and your juices coat his chin and lips that shines under the light from the big screen.
loser! wonwoo who brings you home to fuck you again. he just can't seem to get enough of you. and god, was it good to live out all his fantasies with you.
loser! wonwoo who pounds you into his bed every chance he gets. and he just gets better and better at it.
loser! wonwoo who also fantasized about sharing his interests with you and taking you out on cute dates.
loser! wonwoo who's over the moon when you share his interest in books and video games.
boyfriend! wonwoo who loves when you cuddle up next to him as he plays games on his phone.
boyfriend! wonwoo who's still such a loser for you.
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy
@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic
@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)
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v4mp-reads · 9 months
Note
hiii! Can u write Jake Webber being absolutely pussy drunk and then reader giving him so much love it makes him emotional because he’s never been loved so much🫶🏻
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Sorry about the wait on this one needed to clear something up
Don’t cry my love.
Jake Webber x Fem! Reader. Fluffy smut!
18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: sex drunk jake! , vs face sitting! praise, use of pet names, p n v, unprotected sex ( use PROTECTION PPL) slight d/s themes, soft dom!jake
Word count:1.5k
—-
Y/ns pov
I was laying in mine and Jake's shared bed waiting on him to finish recording, it was probably twelve am and I could still hear him and Johnnie playing around, it didn't bother me much tho. I scrolled through my phone for a while before Jake fell on the bed beside of me “hi y/n i missed you so much while i was recording, i was thinking that we could cuddle and watch a movie for the rest of the night” he rambled on before i cut him off “come on baby lay down”
He climbed in the bed close to me as I laid my head on his chest. While he was trying to find a movie to turn on, I began to trace over his tattooed arms, this must have turned him on because he slowly shifted his bottom half away from me. I didn't pay much mind to it and I thought he was just trying to get comfortable. We laid there, and watched the movie. I shifted closer to him, throwing my leg over his crotch area, causing him to jump a bit. I could feel his arousal against my leg. I thought it would be fun to see how much I could do before he snapped.
About thirty minutes later, I had moved from using my leg to using my hand to palm him through his sleep shorts, he was letting out soft little moans, they only turned me on more. “Mhmm, my love don't tease” he spoke, I turned to look at him his eyes held a mix of lust and love. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything wrong” I said softly, “mhmmm, really now, nothing wrong?” He moved me from beside him so that now I was straddling him “now you know better then to play around with me princess” he ran his hand over the thin material of my sleep shorts. “Mhmm, it seemed like you liked it. '' I slowly started rocking my hips to get some form of friction. This was short lived. “No, I want you to completely understand and lay beside me” his voice was soft, yet stern. Causing the warm all too familiar feeling to flood my stomach. I quickly did what he told me, throwing my clothes off to some other part of the room, then returning to lay on the bed.
He slowly climbed over me, taking off his shirt and pants leaving him in just his gray boxers “mhmm. I missed you” I mumbled out softly feeling his hands run up my legs stopping just before he got where I wanted him “please…Jake..please” I begged, that’s all it seemed to take, his hands worked perfectly on my skin, and I softly used his index finger to run slow soft circles around my cilt, causing me to let out a soft moan as I grabbed on to his hair. “Jake..please..I need more” I moved slowly against his finger “mhmmm, I want you to ride my face baby” I moaned at his words before sitting up for him to lay on the bed “ you know what to do baby, I don’t want any of that hovering okay?” I nodded my head “words baby” I put both my knees beside his head “I understand '' I softly lowered myself onto him, instantly letting out a loud moan. He continued to eat me out, his tongue touching every part of my heat, by this point I had started rocking my hips to increase the praise from him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, my moans were loud, mixed with the grown every now and then from Jake. “I-I’m close..Jake please don’t stop” he brought one finger to my very wet hole, softly pushing it in and out “come on baby, cum for me” he went back to eating me out, within moments I felt the knot in my stomach unraveling, he didn’t stop, he continued “Jake- please! Ah” I went to speak but he just pushed another finger into me now curling them, I softly shifted down from his face, so that I could lay on his chest as he continued to finger me. “Jake..I’m close again..” I moaned against his neck, “are you? Is my pretty little girl about to cum for me? Go ahead pretty girl” and with his permission and praise my legs shook and I reached my orgasm again. “Mhmm thank you…thank you so much my love” I stuttered out
I gave myself a few moments. I looked up at him “mhmm baby, can I ride something else” I asked with a smile. He looked at me with a curious expression “what do you mean darling?” I giggled as i pulled him up to a sitting position “mhmm I just want to make you feel good” I trailed my hand from his neck making sure to run my fingers over his newly pierced nipples causing him to let a soft shaky breath, I place small kisses on his neck, trailing down his body before stopping and coming back to kiss him. As we kissed I worked on getting his final layer of clothing off, his dick quickly hitting his stomach “ooo” I cooed at him before once more running my fingers down his chest. “You're so handsome, I don’t know how I won in life to be with you” I told him softly getting closer to his dick. I ran my finger down each and every vein, teasing his tip every now and again watching as he threw his head back in pleasure “mhmm baby.. you like that?” I asked in a almost fake innocence “dont tease y/n” I giggle softly “oh so you would rather me do this? Hmm” I take his dick into my hand pumping it quickly “a-y/n..” he softly lifted his head to look at me “mhmm”
I lifted my self so that I could align him with myself, I lowered myself on this him. He pushed his hips to mine, causing a loud moan to fall from my mouth “Jake, that’s..that’s not fair” I could barely get my words out “let..let me make you feel good please” I asked while moaning. He was always focused on my pleasure, never his own. “Mhmm okay, okay my love” he muttered out as he relaxed against the bed. I quickly bottomed out on him, softly gridding. His hands quickly found my hips as I showed him with praise. “You look so hot, you feel so good” I told him as I quicked myself feeling my own orgasam come closer “mhmmm, Jake, baby im close” i started to lift my hips higher and come back down. I soon reached my orgasm, tho I continued to ride him trough it “mhmm, baby, you just came, you, you can stop” he let out soft moans and I just continued.
He soon got close to his own release I could tell by the way his dick twitched inside of me “close, y/n baby..I’m close” i only rocked my hips faster “im on my pill baby” is all i had to say, he let out another soft moan before finishing inside of me.
We laid there for a bit before I softly moved off him “I’ll get a towel to clean” he went to get up but I softly pushed him down “I’ll taking care tonight” his eyes softened as he nodded. I slowly got up to get things for us to clean up with. It wasn’t long before I climbed back into bed to my Boyfriend “Hi darling” I looked at him with a soft smile “hi my love” he instantly pulled me into a hug. “Baby I need to clean you up” he only shook his head “aww, baby are you a bit pussy drunk? Is that what it is” he only nodded into my neck. We laid there talking about all kinds of things once he finally let me clean him up.
“I love you Jake, I love you so much you have no idea how perfect you are, how funny, and smart, and caring you are” I told him softly “you really think that?” He turned to look at me, I looked at him with a face of almost shock “of course i do darling, look at you, you are so pretty, you care about everyone, you are so funny, so sweet, and you can do some pretty crazy things with those fingers” I giggled at the last part. I looked at him, his eyes full of tears “are you crying?!” I asked “maybe just a little bit” he said pulling me by my waist closer to him. I placed a small kiss on his lips “don’t cry my love”
This took so long to write and literally sucks
Thank you for reading
Xoxo,v4mp-
2K notes · View notes
tgcg · 9 months
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bad mouther, hole master
TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell
CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.
TG: what
CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.
TG: oh
CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!
TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit
TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats
TG: thats gross
TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on
TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it
TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much
TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine
TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary
TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time
CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.
TG: did you just homestar me
CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?
TG: hell no
CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.
TG: proving your point--
TG: bro have uh
TG: have YOU???
CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?
TG: come on
TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths
TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though
TG: grab your spade and get digging man
CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????
TG: just tell me
CG: ???????!!!!!!!!
TG: karkat
CG: NO!
TG: f-
CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????
TG: wait no
TG: oh my god dude
TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me
TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies
TG: patently not my business
CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.
CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.
CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.
CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.
CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.
CG: HAPPY?
TG: ……..
TG: way to defuse the situation solid work
TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it
TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this
TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it
TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit
CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?
CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.
CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!
TG: youre
CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.
TG: oh gimme a break
TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done
TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any
TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex
CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --
TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh
CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --
TG: -- not a real thing you just said
CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!
TG: stop saying nub
CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD
TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea
CG: DON'T YOU DARE.
CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!
TG: dude did you actually run out of insults
TG: okay this is getting concerning
TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks
TG: that can not be happening
CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR
TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate
CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!
TG: feel like ive done some damage here
CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!
TG: alright bud time to calm down
CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!
TG: okay whatever!
CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!
TG: jeez
TG: here
CG: UGH.
TG: yeah
TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private
CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.
CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.
CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.
CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?
TG: what conversation?
CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.
1K notes · View notes
rosygaze · 1 year
Text
cupid
pairing: eddie munson x female!reader
summary: you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll finally take mercy when you meet eddie. 
warnings: reader insecurity, slight period misogyny, mostly fluff, eddie being a cutie patootie, inspired by cupid by fifty fifty <3 
word count: 2.4k+
masterlist
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You were starting to think that Cupid had a personal vendetta against you.
Three failed dates in a row, all with different guys.
You were optimistic about the first date. After hitting it off with a friend of a friend at a party, you agreed to go on a date with them—a simple movie and dinner.  Only you didn’t make it to dinner since your date started hysterically sobbing after watching the newest rom-com. Apparently, he was missing his ex, and seeing two people in love on screen was the breaking point.
The second date came and went. Another movie and dinner but this time you actually made it to dinner. Which you quickly regretted when he kept trying to play footsie with you under the table. At the end of the date, he leaned in for a kiss. You panicked and dodged which had your date kissing the brick wall behind you instead. You didn’t hear back from him again.
On your third date, you lowered your expectations exponentially. You wanted to play it safe and have a coffee date. It started out normal enough. In fact, you were even having fun. He made you laugh until the conversation drifted to the topic of the future. You told him you wanted to get out of this small town and get a job.
For some reason, that made him extremely upset. He started talking about how women shouldn’t ever work and that the only work you should do is cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, and all that 1950s bullshit. You stared at him, mouth agape, not knowing how to respond.
When he was done with his tirade, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. You waited a few seconds before jumping out of your chair and sprinting out of the coffee shop at a speed that should’ve qualified you for the Olympics. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the park down the street and sat down on the empty bench to catch your breath. You looked at your surroundings and grimaced.
Couples.
Everywhere.
A couple having a picnic on the grass. A couple kissing sweetly on the bench across from you. An elderly couple taking a midday stroll. There was even a pair of kids hugging while their parents cooed at them. It’s like the universe was playing some cruel prank on you.
Did Cupid enjoy watching your love life crash and burn? Did he take some sick enjoyment out of hitting you with one of his arrows and shoving you in the direction of another failed love interest?
What was so great about love anyways? It can’t possibly be as good as all the movies and songs made it out to be. Surely, everyone had to be lying or delusional.
And yet…
You wondered what love was like.
The kind of love that kept you smiling all day, that made you see the beauty in the world. The type that swept you off your feet and made you feel like floating through the clouds. The type that completed you.
This is why you kept going on these dates, giving that little cherub second chances in case he finally takes mercy on you and gives you the right man.
Because someone had to be out there for you. Right?
You groaned and slid down the bench enough for you to lean your head on the back of the bench. Watching the clouds float across the sky, you wished the overwhelming loneliness in your chest could float away just as easily. Tears pricked your eyes and you tried desperately not to let them fall. You would not cry here, not in public. You can save the crying for your room like you usually did.  
Despite your best efforts, tears still trickled down your cheeks. You huffed in frustration. You are pathetic.
All of a sudden a sharp pain shot from your head. Your eyes shot open and you sat up. With crossed eyes, you could make out a blurry form of a stick. You gripped the stick and realized that it was literally stuck to your head by suction. You dug your nails into the sides of the rubber to release it. Rubbing your forehead, you finally got a closer look at the toy arrow that hit you.
What. the. hell.
You glanced around the park, looking for who could’ve hit you. Turning around until you faced the open field behind you where you saw two people: a short, curly-haired kid and a tall, long-haired man.
The latter was holding a toy bow looking incredibly guilty.
You blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, in shock about what happened. The boy nudged him and he came stumbling forward. You stood up as well and wiped your tears away. God, you hoped you didn’t have a giant red circle on your face.
The ten-foot distance between the two of you felt bigger than it was. The awkwardness alone almost made you turn around but you pushed through. Once you were close enough, you stopped and took him in.
Everything about him screamed ‘danger’. He wore a black shirt that said ‘Coroded Coffin’ and dark jeans with a chain hanging from his belt. You wondered how he wasn’t sweating under the sun.
Black polish chipped off his nails and a collection of chunky rings adorned his fingers. Trailing your eyes up, you saw the patches of dark ink etched into his skin. He was all hard features and sharp edges that had you slightly antsy but when you finally met his eyes, that feeling flew out the window.
He had these big baby browns that softened his entire look. His long hair was wild and framed his face. The combination made him look slightly like a puppy. He had full, pink lips that opened and closed slightly as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
Stop ogling him. He shot a projectile at you.
You cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “I assume this is yours?” You held the arrow out to him.
He seemed to snap out of his trance and took the arrow from your hand gently. “Yeah! I’m really, really sorry. I swear I wasn’t aiming for -” He stopped mid-sentence and you saw his eyes flicker with worry. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt that much.” You waved a hand over your forehead, dismissively.
“No, not that but I am glad to hear I didn’t hurt you.” He smiled lightly but as fast as it came, a frown settled in its place. “You were, uh… were you crying?”
Taken aback, you furrowed your brows at him. How he could’ve known? “Uh…”
“Sorry! That’s weird. It’s really not my place. It’s just… your eyes are red but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He rambled and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually paid attention to you like this.  
“I’m okay.” He nodded but, ultimately, didn’t look convinced. You sighed. “I just had a bad date.”
“He didn’t hurt you did he? We can track him down. I’ve got a weapon.” He held up the plastic bow.
You giggled and that made him relax just a tad. His shoulders dropped and the wrinkle between his brows smoothed over. “He didn’t, don’t worry. No need to wield a deadly weapon on him.”
“Yet.” He narrowed his eyes at you but had a playful smirk.
“Yet.” You copied his expression. The tension had disappeared and lighthearted laughter took its place.
“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He introduced himself.
Eddie. It suited him, you thought.
You gave him your name. A charming smile tugged on his lips and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Pretty.” Eddie said under his breath.
Your cheeks flushed even more.
“Eddie, did you get the arrow?” A voice called from behind Eddie. You peered over his shoulder and saw the younger boy. Only now did you notice that he was decked out in a full medieval costume, his curly hair peeking over the edge of his pointy hat.
“Yeah, dude.” Eddie held up the arrow.
“Then come on! You gotta help me with my shield.” The boy whined which made you chuckle slightly. Eddie looked back at you and smiled.
“In a sec, man!” He yelled back but kept his eyes on you. A childish groan came from behind Eddie which had him rolling his eyes playfully. “Sorry about that.”
“Your brother?” You asked.
“Dustin?” Eddie asked, surprise clear in his voice. “Yeah, he is.” A fond smile spread across his face. You could see the resemblance in their unruly curls.
“So, what’s with the outfit?” Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you could see Dustin practicing with the shield, swinging it at invisible monsters.
“He’s testing out his costume for the Faire.” He said, casually.
“The Faire?”
“The Renaissance Faire?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You shook your head, not understanding. “It’s like an amusement park for history buffs. People dress up, eat, drink, roleplay. It’s great.” He explained.
“Have you been before?” You wanted to hear more, both equally fascinated by the concept and Eddie’s voice.  
“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s the little guy’s first time and he wants to go all out. He said he wanted to try his costume out in the correct environment. He’s a bit of a nerd like that and that’s saying something coming from me. King of the nerds, right here.” Eddie held his arms out as if presenting himself and bowed low. You smiled at him.
You haven’t stopped smiling since he made you laugh the first time. “It’s sweet that you spend time with him like that.”
“It’s nothing, really. He’s a special kid.” He scratched the back of his head. You tried not to notice the slight flex in his muscles.
“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.” You said, managing to pull your eyes away from his arms.
“You know.” Eddie started, looking a bit timid. “I’ve got an extra ticket. You could come with us if you want. It’s this weekend in Indianapolis.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be.” Eddie stepped a quarter of an inch closer to you. The proximity made you the slightest bit dizzy. “Maybe you’d have some fun. Forget about the asshole who made you cry.”
“The asshole?” Your eyebrow quirked up.
“Every man who makes a woman cry is an asshole and should be jailed.” He said with the most serious expression that you knew he wasn’t joking around.
“My, what a gentleman.” You found yourself inching closer to him too.
“My uncle taught me well.” Eddie puffed his chest out proudly. “So what do you say?”
“The Faire does sound really fun.” You paused. “But I think you should spend time with your brother. Since it’s his first time and everything.” “Oh, y-yeah. You’re right.” Eddie’s cheeks were turning red. He started to move back when you spoke again.
“But… maybe you could tell me all about it after? Over coffee?” You offered, biting your lip shyly.
Eddie froze then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?” You nodded, just as excited. “Fuck yeah! I’d love to.”
“I should… uh, give you my number. So you can call me?” That initial bout of confidence was fading away. The intensity of Eddie’s gaze made your knees weak.
“That seems like a good plan.” He nodded.
You pulled your pen out of your bag and dug around for a piece of paper but you couldn’t find anything. Pausing to think, your eyes drifted to the spattering of tattoos on Eddie’s arm. “May I?” You pointed at the back of his hand.
“Go ahead.” He gave you his hand. “I’m not afraid of some ink.”
You let his hand rest on your palm while your other hand scribbled your number on his skin. You had to write slower than usual to make sure the ink stuck. His eyes were burning holes in the side of your face. You spared a glance up at him and the corner of his lips twitched up when you met his gaze.
Ducking your chin, you tried to finish writing but your pen stopped working on the last number. Your lips pouted, petulantly. Eddie must’ve noticed since his thumb rubbed against the skin of your wrist, comfortingly. If you were a cartoon character, you were sure there would be a comical amount of steam coming off you right now with how hot your body felt.
A couple of taps against your thigh and the ink started flowing again. After the last stroke on the final number, you added a small heart beside it.
“Beautiful.” Eddie said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you nor did he let go of your hand. “I should have you design my next tattoo.”
“Oh yeah, ‘cause my little hearts will definitely look good with that.” You poked the bats on his forearm.  
“Damn right, it will. Hearts are metal.”
Before you could continue your banter, Dustin’s voice cut through the air. “Edward Munson, stop flirting and help me!” He had his hands on his hips and looked extremely cross with his brother. You let go of Eddie’s hand in embarrassment.  
“I’m coming!” Eddie’s cheeks were red but his eyes were full of amusement. “As much as I’d love to stay, it looks like I gotta go.”
“I figured.” You were actually sad that your time with him was up. “You two have fun this weekend.”
“Thanks. Don’t go on any more dates with assholes, okay.” Eddie still had that playful grin but you heard the slightest hint of unease in his voice.
“I won’t.” You assured him.
You said your goodbyes and walked away. Every couple of steps, you looked back at Eddie. You felt like a teenager again, willing for her crush to look at her in class. You took one last look at Eddie and, as fate would have it, he was turning to look at you too. Both your eyes went wide, a similar situation to your meeting just a couple of minutes ago.
The two of you laughed and Eddie drove the toy arrow into his chest dramatically. He threw his body back on the ground and rolled in the grass. When he got up, he had a smidge of dirt on his cheek but that smile never dimmed. You’d be thinking about that smile all day.
That very night your phone rang.
“I hope you don’t mind.” Eddie said over the receiver. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “Neither could I.”  
This is your last chance, Cupid. You thought. Please let him be the one.
4K notes · View notes
kurikive · 3 months
Text
CASUAL | danielle marsh.
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— "is it casual now?"
6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix
warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation
wc: 5.4k words
inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan
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you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.
she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like
"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"
and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.
you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.
danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.
there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.
if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.
there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.
sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.
it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.
you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.
they were all so painfully straight.
so you try your best to answer vaguely,
"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.
you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.
you like girls.
you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.
they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.
but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.
so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".
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your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.
you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.
so you move on to movies and shows.
when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"
when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."
she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.
and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.
"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.
"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.
it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"
yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.
"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.
"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.
"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.
"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.
"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.
"i won't. it's okay, y/n."
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you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.
it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.
your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.
danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.
you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.
after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.
"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."
you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"
danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.
it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.
you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.
you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.
there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.
"i should watch a movie."
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you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.
you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.
you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?
you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.
"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."
"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.
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you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.
kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.
the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.
good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.
i got a bit caught up, im omw
domt worry 2 much
ill b there soon :))
minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.
it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.
and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.
after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.
but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.
by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.
you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.
the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"
"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.
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you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.
"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"
you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.
"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?
"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.
"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.
you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.
"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"
your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.
"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.
"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).
oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.
you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.
before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.
oh. this is not what you expected at all.
what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.
what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.
so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.
and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.
"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"
"it's okay, dani. i know."
"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"
"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."
"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."
"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."
you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.
"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.
you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.
another 20 ticks of quiet.
"can i do it again?"
hello? hello? what is going on? hello?
"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.
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you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.
sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.
it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.
it's comfortable. it's casual.
and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.
because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.
it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.
and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.
you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.
if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.
it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.
you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.
but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?
was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?
was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?
you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.
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minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.
you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.
you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.
she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.
she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.
danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.
"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."
you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.
"what do you mean?"
"are we still casual?"
there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.
"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."
she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"
"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."
"i don't know what you think casual means but-"
"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."
"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.
"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.
"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.
"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."
"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.
"why are you upset, anyways?"
"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."
you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"
"well, i don't want this to end at all!"
it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.
"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"
"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.
"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.
"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."
you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.
"why?"
"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."
she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.
"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."
danielle still says nothing.
"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.
"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."
"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.
"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.
"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."
"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."
"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."
"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.
"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.
"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."
"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.
"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?
"i mean, you did say you could."
"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"
"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."
"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."
"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."
danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.
the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."
she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."
"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).
"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."
"hey, am i the first one to know?"
"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.
"hanni knew."
"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?
"dude? hello?"
"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.
"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.
end.
🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD
654 notes · View notes
guiltyasdave · 4 months
Text
just close your eyes
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chapter 3 • series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.
word count: ~2.2k
tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one
a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.
follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)
dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
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Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you. 
Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him. 
You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.
Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.
It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.
Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it. 
It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.
If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back. 
You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in. 
They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly. 
You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.
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One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down. 
Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice. 
Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play. 
It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last. 
Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before. 
You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV. 
When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face. 
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While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel. 
It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest. 
He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside. 
He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it. 
You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.
It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second. 
When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager. 
Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.
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The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore. 
Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.
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It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face. 
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?” 
It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body. 
Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like. 
Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago. 
You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs. 
A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips. 
“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features. 
You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat. 
“Yeah no, I– just a second.” 
Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright. 
It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what. 
You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of. 
Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip. 
Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal. 
You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed. 
It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you. 
You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books. 
When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.
Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to. 
Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves. 
You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.
The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.
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moonchildstyles · 11 months
Note
angel getting high for the first time 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
cw: drug use! its only weed, nothing heavy but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)
wordcount: 11.8k+
—————
(Y/N) kicked her legs in the air as she laid tummy down on her bed. She listened to the ringing from the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for a familiar voice to answer. 
In the middle of the third ring, her hopes were answered when a click sounded. Muffled background noise started through the speaker, accompanying a honeyed drawl.
"Hi, lovebug," Harry murmured, his speech seemingly slower than normal. 
"Hi," she chirped through her smile. Her feet kicked in the air, free hand coming up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "What are you doing?" 
A random burst of laughter bubbled through the other line, distant from the phone though it was still loud. "'M on the phone, be quiet," Harry reprimanded, voice far from the receiver before he returned with a decided softer tone, "Nothing, jus' trying to watch a movie with Mitch. What about you, baby?" 
"Just in bed," she mused, "I wanted to call before I went to sleep. Did you want me to let you go since you're with Mitch?" 
Since deciding on moving in together once their respective leases expired, (Y/N) had been making a point to spend more time with Sarah while she was still so close. She didn't want to get in the way if Harry was trying to do the same. 
"No, no, I wanna talk to you, 's alright," he assured her, "How was your day?" 
It was still sweet to (Y/N) the way that she could text him all day long, telling him everything about her day, and he still would ask her a question like this. He told her once that he likes hearing her voice, even if he already knows what she's telling him. 
"It was alright," she said, rolling to lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling, "I turned in that paper that I was working on last weekend, so that's all done. The library was super quiet today, though, I almost fell asleep in the philosophy section." 
A small laugh sounded from Harry. "Did y'really?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, a smile curling her lips, "Elizabeth had to come entertain me. But, what about you? You did that big piece today, right?" 
"Yeah, the thigh piece," he said, voice thick, "She was a nice girl, but I had a headache by the time we took the first break. She liked to talk a lot. M'hand's been cramping since lunch." 
A pout landed on (Y/N)'s lips. She hated hearing about those kinds of details from Harry's job. She had always figured it was so fun and glamorous, easy and fulfilling. She had never thought about the physical toll of drawing and shading and designing all day long. 
"Oh, no," she hummed, instinctively rolling her wrist and curling her fingers as if she could take his pain from miles away. "Did you take anything to help?" 
"Kind of. Mitch and I have been relaxing since he got home." 
She knew exactly what that meant. Though Harry tended to keep this specific hobby of his separated from her, set on the back burner away from the time he spent with her, she knew better. Besides, she had found that little bag in his dresser months ago, she wasn't completely clueless (of course, he did have to explain what she had found to her, but that was a different story). 
That would explain why time seemed to be moving a little bit slower on the other end of the phone, and the boisterous laughter Mitch was sharing in the background. 
"Have you been smoking?" she asked, voice quiet. She always felt a bit silly bringing this up to him, unsure of what terms to be using and what meant what exactly. 
"A little bit, yeah," he affirmed, "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be calling. I wouldn't have if I knew you wanted to talk tonight." 
Shaking her head despite the fact he couldn't see her, (Y/N) rushed her protests. "No, no, don't be sorry. I don't mind, you know that. As long as you're happy and you guys are being careful." 
"Always am, baby." 
A heat bubbled in her chest at his words. While he never did it around her, there were times that she called him or he FaceTimed her before bed when he was under the influence and his voice drawling just a little deeper, sitting heavier in his chest, hit her just perfectly. She could imagine the way his eyes were a bit hooded, his tongue sticking around his words, the easy smiles that spread across his face for no other reason than he liked the feeling. 
She wondered what he looked like in the act. Was it like the movies with lavender smoke and pieces of blown glass with intricate details? Or did he make his own little rolls, hanging from his lips like a cigarette? 
Mitch's loud laugh on the phone brought her back to reality, blinking her back to her room and Harry's static on the other end of the phone. Harry gave a muffled response before his own laughter joined his best friend's, the sound drawling and breezy. 
When he returned to the phone, she could hear the lingering smile in his tone. "I think Mitch found a movie for us to watch, love." 
"What is it?" she asked, feeling the end of the phone call nearing. She would have to settle for spraying the stuffed bunny he gifted her for Valentine's Day with a sample of his cologne for her to cuddle for the night. 
"I don't even know," he laughed, "but, I think 's gonna be funny. I think 'm gonna have to make us food, though, so I don't think I can talk for much longer." 
"That's okay. Have fun with Mitch and I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?" 
"Right," he affirmed, voice soft, "Sleep well, lovebug. I'll call you during my lunch." 
"Okay," she sighed, fitting her cheek against her pillow, "I love you." 
"I love you more, baby," he cooed, "Goodnight." 
An exaggerated kiss noise sounded through her phone, pulling a loud peal of laughter from (Y/N)'s lips. He never really did that when he was around his friends, only putting on the show when he was calling her in private. She thought it was very sweet. 
"Goodnight," she laughed, pressing the red button before she became too spoiled with his shenanigans and tried to keep the call going. 
Setting her phone on her nightstand, she snuggled into her comforter, a throw blanket covering her body instead of her duvet. Pulling her studded bunny from the fringes of her bed, (Y/N) nestled her cheek against the soft fluff. The sown still smelled of Harry's house from the last time she had spent the night, bringing her back to what he was doing in her absence. 
The mystery surrounding his activity of choice for the day is what flicked her curiosity. She'd seen a few movies with marijuana being an uncredited character along with a couple of books with the high feeling being described, but she had never been exposed to anything substantial in real life before she moved away from her parents. Even then, she still hadn't experienced more than the herbal scent that inevitably clung to apartment complexes so close to a university campus and the few bleary eyed classmates she had to work with. 
Specifically, she wondered what Harry was like when he was in that state. Those classmates of hers always seemed disconnected, tired, and in their own head. Was Harry the same way? Did he act the way he did when he drank a little bit too much wine? Or was he wild and excitable like those in the movies? Or sleepy like she had read in her books? 
What would she be like? 
The idea followed her behind her shuttered eyes, her mind going a bit floaty the closer she sunk into sleep. 
—————
"Sarah, have you ever... smoked weed before?" 
The words felt silly falling from (Y/N)'s mouth. Was that even the correct term? She didn't know, but she kept her attention on the food she was making in front of her, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. 
"Yes," she answered with a suspicious drawl, sweeping through the apartment with a laundry basket on her hip, "Why?" 
(Y/N) only shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about it." She paused, tipping her head. "What does it feel like?" 
"Smoking?" Sarah pressed. 
"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, feeling shy that she was even breaching this conversation. "Or, like, being high. Is it like the movies?" 
"A little bit," Sarah mused, folding her laundry on the dining room table into neat piles. "It's not as dramatic or crazy, but it can feel that way sometimes. It depends on the person. Everyone's different." 
Rolling her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head. She chanced a look over her shoulder at her friend, slowing her stirring. "What are you like?" 
Sarah shrugged, a crease between her brows as she thought. "I haven't smoked in a while, but I used to get really tired. It always depended on what kind we had, but I usually got really tired." 
Is that what Harry did? Did he get sleepy, like some of her classmates? Did he nod off during the movie he and Mitch watched the other night? 
"When was the last time?" (Y/N) asked, hoping Sarah didn't cut her off. She was genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prodding and poking past her welcome. 
"Maybe a year ago? Could have been longer," Sarah answered. "I was with Mitch so it wasn't too long ago." 
Fixing her attention back on the stirring of the soup she was making for their dinner, she tried to act casual as she spoke. "W-Was Harry there, too?" 
"Harry?" 
(Y/N) could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she realized where (Y/N)'s curiosity was stemming from. She never tired of teasing just a little over how in love she was with her Harry. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation, keeping her voice to herself. 
"He wasn't there the last time, but he did used to smoke with us sometimes," Sarah explained, sounding a little too amused as she spoke, "Why?" 
Shrugging, (Y/N) pretended as if she wasn't intrigued at the info Sarah could share. "No reason really. Was it fun? With Harry and Mitch and all?" 
"(Y/N)," Sarah sighed, her voice floating through a smile, "C'mon." 
Stopping her distracting task, she turned to face Sarah who was looking at her with that knowing smile she somehow always had when it came to (Y/N)'s secrets. She was an open book as her friend could tell. 
"What?" (Y/N) feigned nonchalance as if she hadn't already been caught. 
"Did Harry say something? Is that why you're asking about all of this?" Sarah poked, her features set in a gentle tease. 
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth she canted her head, eyes dropping to where Sarah's hands had stalled her folding. "Not exactly," she started, "He just... I don't know, I called him the other night and he was with Mitch and they had been smoking, he told me. I know he's done it a few times since we started dating, but I've just been thinking about it since then." 
Sarah hummed, nodding her head as she listened. "I get it," she said, "I know he doesn't do it around you or anything, right?" (Y/N) only shook her head. Popping her hip with a furrow appearing in her brow as she cast her mind back in search of answers for (Y/N)'s previous questions. "I wouldn't say it's exactly like the movies," Sarah continued, "But it depends on the person and the strain, and things like that. I usually get pretty tired and hungry, Mitch is like the movies sometimes—loud and everything is funny—, and Harry gets really lovey and lazy. None of us really make much sense, though." 
(Y/N) tried to picture it. Lavender smoke in the air, Harry lazing about with hearts in his eyes, Mitch laughing about nothing, and Sarah passed out in the corner with a pillow under her cheek. A pinch appeared between her brows as she tried to see where she would sit amongst those characters. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" 
Blinking, Sarah brought her gaze to her friend. She pursed her lips as she took in (Y/N). 
"I don't know. It's not the same as being drunk, so I don't know if you'd be as excitable." Sarah contemplated for a moment longer. "I don't really know, honestly. Are you thinking about finding out?" 
She could only shrug. A similar anxiety she felt around alcohol before she broke that barrier still surrounded this, if even a bit heightened given the fact the substance was still very much taboo in her life. There were so many scary, over-exaggerated out there about marijuana, along with the fact that it was still very much taboo in (Y/N)'s life. The use of it seemed to be something that was only done in private and kept as a secret for some people. She was worried that if she found out why, she would regret it. 
Though, there were those puffing thoughts in the back of her mind that begged to differ. It couldn't be that bad. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah were three of her favorite people in the whole world. They weren't devilish burnouts with a one-track lifestyle taking them down the drain, like horror stories and PSA's liked to project. They were good people who sometimes indulged in extra relaxation when they had the chance and the mindset to do so. There was nothing wrong with that. 
"You could ask H, if you wanted. You know he'd answer anything you wanted to know." 
"I know," (Y/N) drawled, unsure despite the fact she knew Sarah was telling the truth. "You don't think he'd be annoyed or anything? I know he keeps it all separate from me for a reason, so I don't want to make him upset." 
Sarah leveled her gentle gaze on (Y/N)'s face. "I think he does it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It's different than drinking wine with him and things like that, so I bet he just doesn't want to scare you." 
(Y/N) shook her head, "He couldn't scare me, though. He's too nice." 
"To you," Sarah clarified, her smile soft and teasing, "You know he just worries about you and all of that. You wouldn't upset him if you wanted to know more about anything he does."
He did love teaching and showing her things, she knew that. 
"I'll think about it," (Y/N) settled.
"Good," Sarah smiled, grabbing her stacks of folded laundry, "Is dinner ready?" 
"Almost," (Y/N) chirped, adding a little bit of extra seasoning to the pot, "I just need to add the noodles. It'll probably be ready by the time you're done putting everything away." 
Sarah gave a small cheer, stacks of clothing now rehomed in the laundry basket to be returned to her room. "Thank you," she sung, "We should watch that yacht show when we sit down, don't you think?" 
Perking up at the suggestion, (Y/N) quickly nodded her head. "That sounds perfect!" she smiled, mellowing some as she turned her attention to her swirling soup base, "And, thank you for answering everything, by the way. It always helps me." 
"I know, that's why I do it," Sarah settled, reaching out to squeeze (Y/N)'s arm gently before she swept away. 
Left in the silence of the kitchen with only the simmering soup, (Y/N) felt a little bit lighter. Some of her questions were answered even if she had more she wanted to hear from Harry directly. More than anything, she was a little enamored at the idea that Harry was loving and lazy under the influence. She already had a small idea given that she had seen how easy and bubbly he became when he drank, but she'd never seen him really slow down the way she pictured it in her head. 
She wanted to see just how lovey he became, if she was being honest. She already had the privilege of experiencing the affectionate side of him, she wondered just how much higher that volume would be kicked to if he had been smoking. What if he really did have hearts in his eyes?
The thought brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s face.
Maybe, she really would have to ask him. 
—————
"What are you thinking for dinner, my love?" 
(Y/N) puckered her lips to reciprocate the small kiss Harry gave her as he traipsed by the couch. Her eyes followed the broad of his back as her made his way towards the kitchen. With her hands folded on the arm of the sofa, she rested her cheek on her forearm, kicking her legs up behind her as she watched him.
"Whatever you want, I'm okay with," she told him, voice soft and easy. 
"Yeah?" he prodded, looking over his shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink, "Even if I didn't feel like making dinner tonight and decided to order sushi instead?" 
"Sushi?" (Y/N) bubbled, "From the new place?" 
Harry nodded, dimples thumbed into his cheeks. "I figured we could try it out tonight, if that was alright." 
"Yes, please," she beamed, her grin only widening when came around to join her in the common area after drying his hands. 
His lip ring bobbled as he matched her smile, using a gentle hand to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Why don't you pull up the website for us while I put my sketches away, and find what y'like. Then we'll order, yeah? 
Despite the long hours he worked at the shop this past weekend, he looked as gorgeous as ever to (Y/N). He lacked eyeliner after wiping it off as soon as he made it home, but his eyes were still the star of the show against his creamy skin. A fresh bee tattoo stood out on the column of his throat, the mosaic wings following the line of his jaw amongst the rose bush filler he had inked across the skin. With the way he stood over her, she got the perfect view of his spiraling curls and the cut planes of his face complete with his glimmering nose stud and lip ring. 
She nodded her head in a lovey daze. "I can do that." 
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he looked down at her. He dipped to her level to press a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, moving away to gather the art supplies he was working with, "I'll be right back." 
Pulling out her phone, (Y/N) searched up the restaurant up while her mind was still on Harry. 
While the questions she had for him were still in the back of her mind, it was too easy to become distracted with him. They weren't apart for a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but even spending a long, four-day weekend away from one another allowed enough fondness to grow between them to keep her mind from wandering very far from what was right in front of her. Besides, Harry barely let her get a word in since she stepped foot in his home, having tugged her to his bedroom with his lips pressed to hers, only breaking for breath. 
She'd ask him at some point, she was sure. If she had the mind to after dinner. 
Browsing through the menu for a few minutes, (Y/N) found the rolls she was interested in, picking things she had a feeling Harry would like and finding other little gems on the website that she would mention in hopes of getting his opinion on. She searched through the site, trying to find an option to order online with no luck, the browser rerouting her to the main page every time she tried to plug into the ordering site. 
"H?" she called, realizing he still hadn't come back from resetting his utensils. 
"Yes?" he answered back, still in the bedroom, "What do y'need, love?" 
Instead of responding, she stood from the couch and moved towards his room, brows knitted and phone screen bright in her hand. "The website isn't working—it won't let me order," she explained, stepping over the threshold to his room. 
Lifting her head, she saw him standing at his dresser, back to the door with his head angled down and hands fiddling across the top of his dresser. He looked over his shoulder at her, his hands slowing. 
"Give me a second, and I'll take a look," he told her, "I'm still cleaning up—forgot I left some things out." 
"Oh?" she sounded, stepping towards him with her phone being slid back into her pocket, "Do you want any help?" 
Growing close enough, she peered around him to see what he was working on. Instead of spotting the graphite and colored pencils she figured she'd find, she instead saw tiny green buds splaying across the wooden surface with a pair of loose pieces of thin paper and a tall black canister. Harry worked quickly to clean up the mess, majority of the green flakes having been scooped up and replaced in the container though he was struggling to wrangle the remains back into their container. 
"'S alright," he murmured, shifting just enough to cut her view of the space, "'M almost done." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she rocked on her heels as she stayed put. Before she could think better of her words, they were already spilling from her mouth: 
"Is that weed?" 
She cringed at the sound of her voice wrapping around something so outside of her vocabulary. It sounded better in her head.
Harry's hands slowed, stilling before he looked over his shoulder at her. A sliver of his workspace was once again revealed at the small shifting. 
"What was that?" he pressed, his question seemingly heavy between the two of them. 
She said the wrong thing, didn't she? (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his, settling on the new bumblebee on his neck instead. 
"I ask if that was your... you know," she trailed off, hating the sound of her floundering almost more than just saying the word outright, "That's weed, right?" 
Feeling Harry's gaze trail over her, (Y/N) tried not to squirm. 
"It is, yeah," he muttered, "I didn't realize I left it out. 'M sorry."
Darting her eyes up to match his once more, she tipped her head to the side. "Why are you sorry?" 
Turning away from the dresser entirely, Harry faced her directly. He gave her a small shrug. "I don't like leaving it out when you're here. I meant to clean it up before y'came over, but I forgot." 
"You know I don't mind," she reminded him, "You don't have to be sorry." 
A gentle smile curled his lips, only a single dimple in his cheeks as he looked at her. 
"Thank you, love," he started, "Let me clean up, I'll wash m'hands again, and then I'll—" 
"What does it feel like?" 
(Y/N) could feel her skin simmering in embarrassment as her tumbling question fell from her mouth before she had a chance to police the words. Everything she had been too distracted to ask him came flooding back then, unable to be stopped now that she saw the opportunity. 
"Sorry," she peeped, realizing how abruptly she had cut him off.
He waved her off, "'S alright." He watched her with attentive eyes, catching each of her expressions and minute movements. "What does what feel like?" 
There was no going back now, she figured. 
"Being high," she peeped, "What does it feel like?" 
While he didn't seem to understand where her line of questioning was coming from, or understood her sudden curiosity in his private hobby, he didn't dissect any further. 
Harry rolled his neck, pursing his lips. "It's different for everyone," he started, much the same as Sarah had, "It depends on the kind you smoke, too." 
"But what does it feel like for you?" she rattled off, her words coming quick. Her hands were a busy bundle at her waistline, looking at him with curious eyes. 
A small tug on the corner of his lip had a lopsided smile sparking on his mouth. "It depends, like I said, on what kind, but I usually like it best when m'hands hurt. It helps numb it long enough for the cramping to go away," he mused, "But, other than that, it makes me tired—but not enough to sleep. I jus' want to do nothing but sit and eat. I also get very touchy; lots of cuddling with pillows and whining about not being with you." 
He had to have known that his last comment would get her lips splitting into a sheepish smile, (Y/N) dropping her head to fix her gaze at their feet. It was still a little wild to her that Harry thought about her as often as she did him, even when she wasn't right in front of him.
"You feel like that every time?" 
"Mostly, yeah," he shared, "Sometimes I feel like sketching, or I fall asleep right away. Back when Mitch and I would go out a lot, I used to be really hyper—doing stupid shit because I wasn't afraid of anything. I've definitely calmed down since then." 
"Oh," she sounded. (Y/N) couldn't imagine Harry being reckless, getting himself into trouble that way—but, this was the same man that apparently received his first tattoo at a mechanic's garage by a very amateur artist. He was capable of anything, she guessed. 
"Why do you want to know, love?" he asked, tipping his head with a spiral of his curl falling over his shoulder. 
She attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, giving a shrug of her shoulders despite her lips being rolled between her teeth. "I don't know," she answered, "I've just been thinking about it, I guess." 
"Yeah? Is that all y'wanted to know?" 
While there had to have been hundreds of questions that could come to mind, everything from what he and Sarah meant when they specified reactions were based on the strain or kind of weed that was being consumed, to what skunks vs. dank meant when it came to the herb, she didn't know where to start. Though there was one thing she was wanting to know, beyond just the details of what it would be like to see a clingy, lovey Harry. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush before she could rethink them.
Harry's gaze was warm on her face as he examined her. Amusement sparked in his eyes. 
"I don't know, but I have a feeling you'd be a little bit like Mitch," he explained, "I think you'd be excited about everything. But, I'd hope you'd be a little like me just because I like the idea of you being clingy and warm, too." 
She liked that idea, too. It was easier this time to add herself to the picture of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, superimposing herself at Harry's side with her own hearts in her eyes and her hands tangled with his. (They could sneak kisses, too, if she caught the bug of no fear like he used to have).
"Could—Can I—... I think I want to try, if that's alright," she stuttered, unable to find the right words before just letting something roll off her tongue. 
Harry's silence was heavy between them, the lilypad of his irises setting on her. "You want to try smoking?" 
Starting with a soft nod, she tried to find that reckless bubbling that had carried her this far. "I think so, yeah." A beat passed. "If that's alright." 
When he didn't immediately say anything, she chanced a peek up at him to find his eyes fixed on her, gentle and melting as he took her in. He opened his arms for her when he caught her eye, his features softened and warm. "C'mere." 
(Y/N) all but fell into his arms, his chest warm and solid under her cheek. She looped her arms around his middle, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into him. He worked like a shot of lavender incense and chamomile tea for her, the perfect thing to settle her in moments like these. 
His hand spanned over the planes of her back, fingertips massaging the knots of muscle and ladder of her spine. He rubbed over her form in a soothing circuit between her shoulder blades, his opposing hand an anchoring weight on her waist. 
"Y'really want to try it out, love?" he prodded her gently, his voice rumbling under her cheek. 
"I think so," she mumbled, finding it easier to speak now that she was there to hold her instead of watch her.
"When did y'decide that?" 
"The other day, I think," she explained, "After we talked on the phone." 
He hummed, the sound reverberating in her ear. "What made y'think y'wanted to try something like this?" 
Harry always liked to talk her through things like this, she found. It made it easier for him to understand her thought process, he'd said, helping him be honest with her if he worried she was making a choice that might hurt her later. He never lacked patience when it came to guiding her through new experiences. 
"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I just want to know what it's really like. I've only seen a couple of movies and read a few books, but I want to know what it would feel like for me. I don't think it could be so bad if you like it." 
Nosing at her hair, she could feel the smile that had spread across his lips. "'M not always the smartest though, baby. You know that." 
She let out a small laugh at his griping. "I know, but I trust you. If you really don't think it would be good for me, I know you would tell me." 
A pause settled between them. 
"You don't feel like you have to, right? Jus' because 's something I do sometimes, I don't expect you to feel comfortable with it or want to do it with me." 
"I know," she responded, voice resolute, "I just want to try it at least once. If I don't like it or anything like that, I won't do it again." 
After a lingering moment, Harry drew her away from him, peering down at her with a soft gaze. "If you're sure, then we can try it whenever y'want. Jus' let me help you, and I'll be there." 
An impulsive flicker lit through her system. She was on a roll, why stop now? 
"Can we try it tonight?" 
Harry looked at her with widened eyes. "Tonight?" 
(Y/N) nodded her head. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow," she started, a plan coming together, "Do you have to go in early tomorrow?"
His smile was lopsided as he shook his head, likely following where she was going with this. "No, I don't." 
"We could stay up, then," she rattled off, "I could try tonight, and if anything goes wrong we can sleep in a little in the morning." 
Amusement filtered through his gaze. "I didn't know we were having a sleepover," he teased her, dipping his head until his nose nudged against hers, "Y'want to stay the night with me, baby?" 
Her skin hummed as (Y/N) fought the urge to hide herself in his neck. (She acted as if he hadn't been fingers deep in her just a few hours prior, their mouths welded together and her legs around his waist)." 
"Harry," she whined, curling her fists in his t-shirt to keep from pulling away, "I'm trying to be serious." 
"I know," he crooned, tipping his chin to peck a soft kiss to her pouted lips, "And, 'm listening. We can try it out tonight, if y'really want to. But, I think we should eat first, yeah?" 
"Yeah," she repeated, giving a slight nod of her head, "I still need help with the website, though."
"Right," he murmured, pulling away, "Since I don't really need to clean up anymore, let me take a look." 
With that, (Y/N) handed him her phone, telling him about the confusion she felt with the links and the rerouting and all, but her mind was somewhere else. Flicking her gaze around his shoulder, she saw the mess he was leaving out for them to take care of later. The small green buds sparked that familiar kind of nervous excitement that she'd grown accustomed to when it came to new things Harry was planning on teaching her. 
She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself.
—————
"What did you think, love? Good, right?" 
Taking their dirty utensils—including the pink chopsticks he gifted her for Valentines—Harry spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.
(Y/N) sat pliantly on the couch, tummy full of the variety of sushi rolls they sampled for the night, along with a new favorite miso soup that she was surely going to be craving as the week went on. "So good. I think my favorite is still the spicy salmon one with that seaweed salad on top." 
Harry laughed from where he stood, surely remembering the way she had practically taken that roll for herself, hoarding the pieces to allow only one bite for him. "I really liked that one, too. We'll have to go back again soon, yeah?" 
"Yes, please," she chirped, looking over the back of the couch as he made his return. 
While the food was a delicious distraction for the night, (Y/N) had still marinated in the idea of what would be coming once she finished and they were settling for the night. The mess he'd left on his dresser was waiting for them, loose papers and all. 
"Ready?" he asked, coming to stand at the end of the sofa.
Was she? She wasn't sure, honestly. But that uncertainty was outweighed by the curiosity and bubbly jitters she had since Harry had agreed to help her. 
Before she had a chance to answer and take his hand, Harry spoke up again, "Jus' to get ready for bed first, baby." 
"Oh," she sounded, nothing more intelligent coming to mind at the moment, "Um, yeah. Then we'll...?" 
He cracked a smile at her hesitancy to name the activity that she had brought up. "Yes, we'll do that afterwards. You'll probably feel more comfortable in some pajamas and your face clean." 
Though she felt a bit silly at the way she had built up a moment that hadn't quite arrived yet, she understood his logic. Besides, if she turned out to be like Sarah, she wouldn't beat herself up in the morning if she did all of her skincare now, and not when she was already inches from sleep.
Taking Harry's hand, she followed after him as he led her to his bedroom, a small duffle bag of hers that stayed here was already sitting by the bathroom door. A change of clothes, and minis of her most essential skincare needs were packed away inside, making it easy for her to spend the night impulsively when she wanted to. 
(Just then, the reminder that she wouldn't be confined to a single bag when they moved in together made her more giddy than before. Soon, she'd be sharing a whole closet with him, a bathroom, and a home. She couldn't wait).
(Y/N) went through the motions of getting unready with Harry standing behind her in the mirror. More often than not, as she brushed her teeth or patted a balm into her skin, her eyes wandered to his reflection. Once or twice, when she was caught, he gave her a sly smile with glimmering eyes. But, when he didn't catch her, his attention on his own task, she was left to allow her mind to gill with imagination. 
She was reminded as she ran her eyes along the cut of his jaw, the plants of his features, and the high points in-between, that he would be stepping behind the lavender veil with her. His previous conversation with her had only revolved around her and what she wanted out of this experience, straying her mind away from the fact that he was going to be a part of the package. 
What would he look like with smoke pluming from his mouth? Would his lilypad eyes go glazed and red? She wondered if his hands would feel any different gliding over her skin, if his lips would still feel as pillowy against hers. 
The thought had her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile forming around the toothbrush between her lips. 
Harry finished before her, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy to change into her pajamas. "I'll wait for you out here," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 
Closing the door behind himself, she was left alone with the chilled tile under her socked feet. Glancing at the mirror, (Y/N) found herself fresh-faced with wide eyes and a slight swell to her lips from the amount of times she rolled them between her teeth. Blinking, she wondered if she would look any different to Harry after she pulled the smoke into her lungs. 
It was with rushed hands that she dressed into her sleep clothes (really nothing more than a pair of tiny shorts she would inevitably kick off in the night, and a shirt she had stolen so long ago from Harry that it was hers now), almost slipping her top on backwards before she righted herself in the mirror. Stepping out of the washroom with her laundry being dropped atop her duffle for later, (Y/N) saw Harry once again at his dresser.
This time, he looked to her with an easy smile, his hands working over the surface before him.
"Better?" he smiled, lip ring bobbing. 
"Mhm," she hummed, moving towards him in slow strides, "What are you doing?" 
Turning back to face his hands, he told her, "Jus' getting our things ready. Do you want to watch?" 
A pinch creased her brows as she went towards him. Peering around his shoulder, she saw him working with one of the loose papers from before and a small pile of crushed up greenery. 
"What do you have to do?" (Y/N) only had a vague idea of what all went into preparing for a session like this. 
Smiling down at her, his ministrations slowed now that her attention was placed on his hands. He sidestepped just enough to allow her an unobstructed view of his work. "I figured we'd stick with a joint this first time, so I've got to roll one up for us to use." 
Looking at it now, while she didn't have much knowledge of any of this, she could see familiar pieces forming. The paper would be rolled and twisted with the bud inside, Harry flickering a lighter at the end like a cigarette when it was ready.
"How do you do that?" she muttered, stepping that much closer, feeling as if she were a child pressing their nose against the glass separating them from gallons of ice cream. 
A huffed laugh fell from his lips then. Lifting his arm up, he beckoned her to stand between his chest and the dresser. "C'mere." 
Slipping into the small space he freed for her, the heat of his chest could be felt against her back. Though she caught whiffs of it before, now the herby, earthy smell of the bud was right at her nose, wafting through the air and clinging to her skin. Right in front of her, Harry worked around her, his fingers deftly working through his supplies. 
"First," he started, "You've got to keep the paper flat out and put one of the filters at the end." She watched as he pulled a tiny white piece from the canister, setting it at the middle of one of the short ends of the paper. He kept it stable when he reached for the ground up weed that he had piled in the lid to the container, a small mound he pinched at before sprinkling the chunks in a line across the paper. "We've got to fill it up enough so there's not any air bubbles between," he explained as he worked, his arms hovering above her shoulders as he created their joint with the ease of experience. "This part’s always a little hard for me," he told her, to her surprise. 
"What do you mean?" He could have fooled her.
"'S hard to pack it in like this," he elaborated, his voice dull as he concentrated, "M'fingers are too big, so I've got to be extra careful that I don't mess it up." 
Honing her gaze in on his digits, she had to keep herself from tipping her head to the side and falling victim to the sight. She could see it then, she figured, watching as he tried to pat everything as tightly and precisely as possible. His fingers definitely were too big. 
"Oh," she sounded. 
A breathy laugh came from behind her, the exhale twisting through the hair on the top of her head. "Would y'do something for me, love?" he asked, finally packing enough in as tightly as he could before he started folding the ends of the thin paper. 
She gave a nod, now too transfixed on his hands to speak with an even tone. 
"Would you give this a lick for me?" he asked, "We've gotta seal it up before I can twist it all up." 
"Like, the paper?" she clarified, eyeing the open flap he was presenting to her with the joint grasped carefully between his fingers. 
Harry hummed a confirmation. "There's glue on this edge like an envelope. Gotta make it sticky, then I can close it up for us."
"Um, okay," she muttered, placing a steadying hand on his wrist as he brought the almost-joint to her lips. 
Parting her mouth, she swiped the tip of her tongue along the very edge of the paper. It didn't taste quite as artificially sweet as a regular envelope, but then again, everything was coated in that dusky scent that the herb folded inside held. 
"Thank you, baby," he told her, pulling the joint from her lips as he did the closing motion of sealing the edge to the roll. She watched as he did the final step, twisting down the free edge into a tight swirl before he presented it with the filtered end between his fingertips. "All done." 
In front of (Y/N) was the stereotypical joint that she had seen in the few films that showed as much. The paper was translucent in the way that she could clearly see it was filled from the inside with dark, green flakes. The filtered edge was tapered down into a small funnel, leaving the head of the roll trumpeting out, thick with the ground up weed. 
"That was fast," (Y/N) muttered, wanting to reach out and touch, but too scared. 
"I've gotten pretty good, I can't lie," he joked with her, pressing his lips to the back of her head. A paused settled again before he spoke to her, his head still dipped down as he murmured, "Y'still feeling alright, darling? Still want to, or do y'want to go to bed and watch a movie instead?" 
Examining the joint in front of her, the thick scent of the weed surrounding her with the heat of Harry's chest at her back, she nodded her head. "I still want to." 
Dropping an arm to wrap around her waist from behind, Harry hugged her to him for a moment. "Grab a jacket then, and we'll go out back for a second, yeah?" 
"Outside?" she asked, turning in his hold. 
"Don't want it stinking up the house, right?" He looked at her with a raised brow, already stepping towards the closet in search of his own coat. "We'll be fast, baby, 's alright." 
(Y/N) supposed he was onto something, realizing that she had never been struck by the heavy scent like she would figure if he had smoked in his bedroom. As long as no one complained, it wasn't a bad idea to head outback for a second. It would be nice to take in deep breaths in between the smoke too, she figured. 
With a set of slippers on her feet, and a thick hoodie on her body, she followed Harry out the back door, ending on the back patio. He sat on the stoop at her feet, patting the space next to him. 
"Warm enough?" he asked, moonlight waning above their heads. 
Snuggling closer to his side, she nodded her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you warm?" 
Despite the unzipped jacket on his form and the thin t-shirt underneath, Harry gave her a small smile. "'M good, baby." 
Flicking out a lighter and the joint from his pocket, he sparked the flame with a flick of his fingers. 
He ran the spark over the trumpeted tip of the joint, his face warming in the firelight glow. "We'll take it easy tonight, yeah?" he murmured, concentration on his hands, "I don't think it'll take much to get y'there, so we probably won't finish this but we'll save the rest for another time if you want." 
She watched as he rotated the edge of the joint over the flame, evenly burning the tip. "Are you not going to have any?" 
"I will," he assured her, "But, I want to make sure I can take care of you. I won't be having too much." 
Having a deja vu moment, (Y/N) was reminded of how it felt to be sitting in his lap as he fed her wine, keeping his own head clear while he let her run wild. 
With the end of the joint glowing a warm orange, Harry put the lighter away. He ashed the very tip away, revealing cool lavender smoke twisting through the air with a heady scent clinging to the particles. 
"Want the first go?" he asked, tipping the roll towards her in an offer. 
"No, no," she answered immediately, "You first." 
His smile was lopsided as he agreed, pulling the joint to his mouth. She watched as he tucked the filtered end between his lips, taking in a shallow inhale with the fiery end glowing to life. His chest expanded as he inhaled. He only pulled the roll away from his lips when his chest was puffed with smoke, a lingering second passing before he exhaled, plumes of dancing smoke drifting through the air. The heavy, thick aroma of the weed surrounded them. 
(Y/N) couldn't pull her eyes from him as the smoke seeped from between his lips, a thin, violet filter hazing his features. The moon above seemed to catch each particle, drowning the scene in cool toned shades, muted and closed. 
She waited for something to change in the way he looked, the way he acted. When the only thing he did was turn to her with a blink, once again offering the joint to her for a try, she wasn't sure what she had expected. 
"Do y'think y'can do that?" 
Her brows creased. "Do what?" 
Amusement molded his features as he tipped his chin towards his offering. "Taking a hit," he stated, "Inhaling, and everything." 
"I-I think so," she answered, carefully pulling the roll from his fingers. She hesitated before taking it to her lips, nervous to replicate his actions while he watched. "Do you feel any different?" 
His smile was warm as he shook his head. "No—probably won't be too different tonight. I've built my tolerance pretty high, so I'll be fine." 
"Oh," she sounded, feeling the slightest bit disappointed knowing that she wouldn't get the full experience of seeing him for what he was under the influence. Maybe sometime she could convince him to let it go. Focusing back on the joint, she stared intensely at the thin ribbon of smoke falling from the tip. "How do I inhale?" 
"Jus' breathe in, baby," Harry laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side, warming her through her layers. "Only take a little bit at a time, though. And, if y'need to cough, jus' let it happen. You'll be alright." 
Though it was only a few tiny rules, it felt like so much to remember, to keep track of while she was trying something so foreign.
"Wh-What if I take too much?" she muttered, worrying now the longer that she let it keep burning. She hoped she wasn't wasting everything he'd done for her. 
Harry paused, rolling her question around his head before answering. "You'll be alright," he assured her, "Jus' don't want you to take too much, or anything, that's all." 
The idea of taking too much scared her more than the other rules. She didn't know what too much was; how would she know if there was too much in her lungs, how would she know if she needed to pull back? 
"Can you help me?" she murmured, worry lacing through her tone. 
"I can hold it for you if you want?" he offered, though his option didn't seem so concrete as she had hoped. 
"You can't do more?" 
A small silence sat between them when he didn't answer right away. She looked to him, finding him looking at the joint between her fingers with a contemplative crease between his brows. 
"I might have an idea that we can try," he started, flicking his gaze to match hers. "Y'trust me, right?" 
Her nod was immediate. 
A small smile folded his lips as he took the joint from her hand. He brought the roll to his lips, taking in another deep inhale with his eyes fluttering as his chest expanded. The cherry brightened as he pulled in the smoke. As soon as he pulled it away from his mouth, he spoke to her in a muddled voice, a small streak of smoke escaping through his nose. 
"C'mere." 
(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out in confusion. She was already right here, right?
The arm Harry had thrown across her shoulders slithered around her form until his palm came to a cradle on her cheek. He pressed forward then, his lips parting just enough for (Y/N) to get the hint. 
He wanted to kiss her.
Fluttering her eyelids to a close, she leaned forward in an attempt to meet him halfway. Harry, with his hand on her cheek, stopped her short, a small distance left between them. 
With her eyes opening to slits, she found him looking to her with his own gaze trained on her lips. His tender hand on her cheek shifted until his thumb was resting in the full of her bottom lip. Tugging just slightly, he parted her pout into a small gape. Harry ripped his head, leaning just that much closer with his pursed lips. 
(Y/N) held her breath, her own mouth parted open as she felt soft plumes of smoke fan over her lips. His lips just barely grazed her own, pressing against the soft pillows as the smoke ghosted over her tongue, heady and thick.
Pulling away just enough with smoke still twirling around his features, he told her, "Breathe in, baby." 
His voice was still heavy in his throat, emulating the way he spoke in the morning. The detail gave (Y/N) something to focus on as she instinctually closed her mouth as if biting down, the smoke now contained to a thin veil between them. He kept his hand steady on her cheek as she inhaled the way she saw him do, her chest bloating as she filled her lungs with the gifted smoke. 
While she didn't feel the burning in her chest that she thought would accompany the smoke, she instead felt a thick heat in the back of her throat. She tried to mimic what she had seen Harry do, keeping the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling, but she couldn't keep up when she felt her eyes begin to water. 
Unable to handle it much longer, (Y/N) released her breath in clumsy pants, embarrassed to be reacting so intensely right in Harry's face. Though, all he did was stay steady in his spot by her, thumbing at her chin and coaxing her through it. 
Tipping her head down, she finally coughed into her sleeve, eyes watering as she went with his hand falling to the slope of her neck. 
"'S alright, baby, jus' let it out," he murmured, his voice a gentle soothe, "You'll feel better in a second, love." 
By the time she regained her breath, there was a slight glaze over the back of her throat—not quite a tingle, but not entirely normal. Harry tipped his head down by then, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth with his palm spanning the shelf of her collarbones. 
"Y'alright?" he murmured, ever patient when he pulled away to match her eyes. 
Nodding her head, (Y/N) swallowed around her odd throat. "Was that alright?" she croaked, wet bottom lashes grazing the height of her cheekbone.
A fond smile molded Harry's features into soft curves. "Y'did jus' fine, lovebug. So proud of you for not getting scared," he praised her, thumb running over her warm skin, "Feels a little weird doesn't it?" 
(Y/N) didn't have to think before she nodded her head, watching as he ashed the joint they had probably let burn for just a touch too long. "Really weird," she told him earnestly, "My throat feels funny, but that's all so far."  
"Yeah? Want to keep going?" His eyes skated over her features, taking in every reaction, every minute stretch of her muscles. 
While she was sure there was something that would hit soon, she still felt comfortable enough to take a little more from him. (Y/N) answered with a small nod. 
"Same way we did before?"
Remembering the feel of his lips glancing across hers, the faint brush of the tip of his nose over hers, she could feel her skin simmering. "Yeah," she answered, hoping he thought the breathy quality of her voice was a lingering side effect of her coughing. 
He didn't look entirely fooled when that sly smile touched his lips. "Alright," he said, bringing the joint back up to his lips, "We'll do a couple more, then I think you're done, baby. That alright?" 
"That's alright," she murmured, "Thank you." 
This time, watching him taking in the long drag, (Y/N) knew what to expect when he turned to her. She allowed him to hover close enough that he was almost kissing her as he blew out another plume of smoke for her to inhale. When she took her time filling her lungs with the smoke, Harry tipped his head and smeared his lips over her cheek, kissing down her neck. 
She had more confidence this go around, coaxing herself through as Harry held her. That thick feeling in the back of her throat intensified as she closed her eyes, her chest expanding under her borrowed hoodie. 
"Doing good, baby," he murmured into her ear, pulling away to match her gaze, "Go ahead and breathe out, love. I think you're good." 
Following his direction, the lavender smoke twirled between them. Sucking in clean air, she filtered out her lungs. This time around, opening up her eyes to look up at the moonlight and the stars blinking over the inky canvas, things felt different. There was a bit of lethargy to her movements, even in the darting of her gaze. Her limbs felt as if there was extra weight attached, something heavy that slowed her before she even had a chance to move.
It was an odd feeling, something that she'd never experienced before or had anything of comparison to, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd even say she liked it so far.
Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that she was edging into new territory as he watched over her, eyes sparking from amusement. "One more?" 
"Yeah," she settled, her lips feeling looser the more she sunk into the moment, "One more." 
"Wanna try by yourself?" he asked, taking his own small puff from the joint before he was angling it towards her. 
"Not by myself, no," she argued, still scared to be in charge of her own dosing. 
"I can hold it for you if y'want—take it back when you've had enough," Harry offered, letting a cloud leave his lips as he spoke. 
"Okay," she nodded, taking on his offer. 
"Open," he instructed, setting the filter of the joint between her lips, "Then jus' suck in, okay? You'll be able to feel it in the back of your throat, so stop if you've had enough and I haven't taken it back yet." 
(Y/N) wrapped her lips around the filter, taking in Harry's directions with absent ears. She couldn't imagine he wouldn't be able to catch herself and her intake before he did. 
Emulating what she'd seen from him before, she sucked in, her cheeks hollowing just enough to show off the shape of her cheekbones. The back of her throat warmed, embers igniting in a low burn. This was more than what Harry had given her before, but she didn't mind. This would be just enough,she figured.
At the perfect moment, Harry pulled away prompting her to breathe out the final cloud of smoke. He asked the joint once more, a small pile of grey dust having collected at their feet. 
A few huffed coughs fell from (Y/N)'s lips, unused to the feeling of gathering the smoke directly from the source. Harry wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as she eased through the final intake. 
"How do you feel?" he asked her, voice low under the moonlight. 
Looking around, (Y/N) tried to find the answer to the question. 
It was an odd feeling, she decided. She felt both light and heavy at the same time, her head in the clouds with her body entirely anchored to the ground. Prickles poked at her skin, her limbs their own entity as she brought her hands into a bundle in her lap. 
There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that she felt high. 
"Good," she answered simply, "Different." 
"You'll get used to it, my love," he murmured into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the space just before. 
"Do you feel different?" she asked, her voice heavy in her dry throat. 
"A little," Harry explained, stubbing out the cherry of the joint, "But, I think 's time we get inside before either of us freezes, don't you think?" 
"Yeah, yes."
It was when Harry let out a small huffed laugh that (Y/N) couldn't contain her own laughter. A loud peal fell from her lips. She wasn't even sure why she was laughing. That only made her laugh harder.
—————
"That is so funny," (Y/N) giggled to herself, clenching her hands in the fabric of her top lest she forget they were there. "Harry, did you see that?! It was funny!" 
He was back in the kitchen, working over the stove with a pot of noodles boiling away and a cheesey sauce working on the other burner, leaving (Y/N) to watch this movie all on her own. 
"Which part, baby?" he asked, his rumbling voice sounding farther away than she remembered. 
(Y/N) blinked, watching the brightly colored animated characters go across the television screen. "The one that was just on! With the cat on the piano!" 
How could he not have been paying attention? (Y/N) had never seen something so entertaining before, if she was being honest. This had to be her new favorite movie—she just needed to remember what it was called. 
"Oh," he sounded, "I did see that, sorry, lovebug. It was very funny." 
"Good," she responded absently, craning her neck to look over the back of the couch towards where he stood in the kitchen, "I'm so hungry, H." 
"I know," he laughed, looking at her with his skin seemingly glowing and the smile of a prince. "'M almost done, okay?" 
"How close is ‘almost’?" 
His smile only widened at her line of questioning. (Y/N) mimicked that look without a thought. 
"About five minutes. Can you wait that long?" 
"I'll try." She couldn't help the pout that took her features. She had told him she was hungry what felt like hours ago, and she still was waiting for food. He wouldn't even let her help either, but she could argue that she would have eaten already if he just let her follow him to the kitchen.
Raising his brows, Harry fixed his attention back on the television screen. "Oh, look. The little cat is back, baby." 
(Y/N)'s attention took a one-eighty as she did the same to face the TV once more. Harry was right, the kitten was back on screen. She didn't want to miss this. 
The high had hit her at full force only minutes after Harry had taken her inside, setting off a firing squad of so many different feelings (Y/N) had never experienced before. She had so much energy, but at the same time she wanted to sleep. She wanted to kiss and hold her boyfriend, but also had to make a point to remember where her limbs were. She wanted to eat and drink as much water as she could, but couldn't find the attention to do either of those things. In the back of her mind, she even debated on writing some for the course paper she needed to work on before the midterm exam next month—her mind swirling with ideas, but they were all out of order. 
How she decided on watching a movie instead of any of her other raucous ideas, she wasn't sure, but she was happy with the choice. This way, she was able to wrap up in the soft pink throw blanket that she left in his bedroom, sink into the new feeling, and make out with Harry when he was done cooking.
(It had really been Harry's prompting and prodding that led her to the conclusion that yes, she wanted to watch a movie and cuddle up with him while she ate, but he was happy with letting her assume it had been her own choice).
Time moved in mysterious ways since the high had hit, making it hard to decipher if it had been five hours or mere five minutes before Harry came to her with bowls of pasta and a buttery warm sauce poured over top. 
"That looks so good, H," she bubbled, overjoyed at the sight of food, "Thank you so much!" 
"You're welcome, baby," he smiled, "Do you need more water?" 
"No, just—Hold on." (Y/N) stumbled over her words, organizing her thoughts as steadily as she could and ultimately failing in favor of reaching towards Harry.
The second he settled into the cushion at her side, she had his jaw cradled in her palms, lips puckered and pressed against the corner of his mouth. A laugh bubbled through his lips, his smile felt under her kiss. 
"I missed," she laughed along with him, pulling away to watch his eyes light up and creases form around his smile, "Sorry." 
"'S alright," he beamed, cheeks still cradled in her palms, "Jus' slow down and try again." 
Though she didn't exactly have the wherewithal to follow his directions, she definitely tried her best. This time, she felt as if she went slower as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Harry's. He reciprocated her affection in soft kisses, (Y/N) melting the longer she reveled in his touch.
Her skin practically sang everywhere he touched her, taking her back to her wonderings of if there would be something extra to their affection while under the influence. That prickling that she had felt in her limbs just when the smoke started taking effect, now only occurred when he ran his fingertips over her skin or held her hand in his. The buzzing made her smile into the kiss, the pinpoint tickling under her skin.
"What's got you so smiley, hm?" Harry asked against her mouth, pulling away despite the tender hold she had on his cheeks. 
She beamed up at him with an easy grin, a rose colored glaze over her vision of him. "I just like touching you," she told him, "It tickles." 
He raised his brows in reaction, biting back a smile. "It tickles?" 
Watching the clear amusement on his face, (Y/N) couldn't help her own smile from turning into bubbling laughter. "Uh-huh," she barely answered, everything else dissolving around her laughter. 
"Now, why are you laughing?" 
Harry's investigation only proved to make the entire moment funnier to (Y/N) as she doubled over. Snuggling into his chest, she clung to him with her laughter muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know," she giggled, barely sure that the words even left her brain. 
"Oh, lovebug," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her, "What am I going to do with you?" 
A contented smile landed on (Y/N)'s features as she settled down. She burrowed against him, smushing her cheek on his shoulder and bundling her arms between their bodies. "Love me." 
The tip of Harry's nose skimmed the top of her head. "I already do that," he told her, words fanning across the strands of hair crowning her. 
"I love you too," (Y/N) answered simply. 
The cryptic sense of time she held struck once again when Harry drew away from her. Her body had relaxed into his as if she had napped on him for hours, but she could have been nestled in his arms for a max of three minutes for all she knew. 
"Are y'still hungry? Or do y'want me to save your noodles for later?" 
With that, (Y/N) swore her mind had been blown. "You brought me food, I totally forgot!" Twirling too fast for her brain to keep up, she was almost dizzy by the time she saw the bowl of pasta Harry had set in front of her, complete with salty cheese layered on top just like she asked. "That looks so good, H! Thank you." 
Harry gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, baby." 
A minute sense of deja vu niggled in the back of her head for just a second, but (Y/N) chose to ignore it in favor of twirling her fork through the spaghetti noodles.  
Had cheese always tasted this good? 
—————
"Harry, are you listening? This song is beautiful." 
"I know, love. 'S perfect, huh?" 
The drawl of Harry's response had (Y/N) peeking up at him. She found him lying with his eyes closed, mouth parted in a small gape, though his hand on her back never slowed the soothing circle he had curated.
"Are you tired?" (Y/N) whispered. 
A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth at her question. "A little. Are you?" 
(Y/N) paused, evaluating herself to give him an honest answer. "Yeah. A little." His heartbeat was set to a soothing pace under her ear, slowing into a steady rhythm as if urging him to sleep. "Are you almost asleep?" 
Though she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in soft puffs, Harry didn't slack on the duties he had taken on for the night. Since pulling her to bed and setting a playlist to softly sing through his bedroom, he had kept his cuddling hold on her firm and anchoring. He answered her every time she spoke to him and even crawled his way to the bedside table to skip the song whenever she started to whine over the melody. 
"A little," he smiled, his voice a deep rumble, "Are you?"
Another pause. "Maybe," (Y/N) answered honestly. She could fall asleep right now if she wanted, but she also wanted to keep listening to music. 
Harry hummed, his chest vibrating under her cheek. "Is there anything y'want before y'get sleepy? More water or a snack?" 
What did she need before she could peacefully fall asleep? 
Blinking her gaze up at him, she took in the tip of his nose, the curving pillow of his cupid's bow and the creamy texture of his skin. 
"A kiss? Please?" 
At that, Harry cracked his eyes open to peer down at her. "Y'haven't had enough of those yet?" 
"Never," she answered, completely honest. Harry still plucked a smile onto his lips at her response. 
"Can't blame you, darling—me neither." 
Shifting between the sheets, Harry used his free hand to cup (Y/N) cheek and tip her chin as he dipped down. He sealed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, nothing more than a soft pressing of their lips. She swore she could feel every ridge, every dip, every plane of his touch, catalogued to her memory though she hoped she would recall it in less fuzzy detail. 
"Love you," she murmured between breaths, immediately planting her lips across his once more. 
Harry smiled into the contact. He broke the rhythm of her kisses even further when he drew away, ignoring the way she chased after him with a craned neck and puckered lips.
"I love you too, lovebug." His eyes scanned over her features not for the first time that night, though something softened in his gaze. "You had a good time tonight?"
Walking through the lavender veiled events, everything was just a bit hazy and herbal, (Y/N)'s smile only grew. 
"Uh-huh," she beamed up at him, feeling herself settle into him that much more, "Thank you for showing me." 
Thumbing at the height of her cheekbone, Harry surged forward to press a delicate kiss to the bridge of her nose. "'M happy y'feel good, darling. That's all I want when we try new things." 
"I'm always happy when I'm with you." 
(Y/N) blinked as she saw his face light up with a bubbly smile, creases appearing by his eyes, dimples thumbed into his cheeks, and a slight flush over his nose. 
Had his smile always been that pretty?
—————
eeeek! so happy I could get a new aster blurb out for everyone this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and lmk if yu have any ideas for anything you'd like to see!
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afterglowkatie · 4 months
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lost | k.c.c.
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kyra cooney-cross x reader | 2.7k | after a few days of feeling lost, confused and being distracted at training, kyra decides to confide in lia about her feelings for you
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. thank you for being so patient with me on this part! i know it's taken a while but i'm still thankful for all the support :)
‘Kyra, the goals over there. Maybe we need to put some big arrows pointing towards it for you,’ Alessia laughed, watching Kyra miss the goals yet again. None of her shots today at training made it anywhere near the goal, which ignited the harmless comments from some of her teammates.
‘Maybe if you weren’t daydreaming about a certain Catley then you’d get one,’ 
‘You’d think you’d be hitting the back of the net constantly if you wanted to impress her,’ 
Kyra’s head shot around after the comments from her teammates, making sure neither you or Steph were anywhere within earshot. She really didn’t want you or Steph to hear the teasing comments. The comments weren’t unusual. There had always been the odd comment every now and then. But since realising and accepting her feelings for you, the teasing comments felt like they had intensified. Bordering on overwhelming, since Kyra’s head was everywhere but at training.
It had only been a few days since the other night when Kyra had the realisation, but it had been messing with her head a little bit. The days at training Kyra was noticeably different. Nothing was going right for her. Her mind, a million miles away. You were the only thing on her mind. She was confused and distracted. 
One part of her didn’t want to ever risk changing your friendship by confessing her feelings for you. She didn’t ever want to lose you, you helped Kyra more than you would ever know. Kyra was scared that you would distance yourself from her if she ever said anything.
But another part of her knew that eventually she wouldn’t be able to keep pretending that she didn’t have feelings for you. Kyra knew that one day she would have to confess her feelings for you and face a possible rejection or leave your life without ever knowing if there was a possibility that you could like her back. 
Though Kyra felt foolish everytime she thought you might feel the same. Thinking that she was getting ahead of herself and trying to see something that wasn’t there just because it’s what she wanted. It would be the ideal situation, but she knows to keep her hopes low. Besides, things like that only ever seem to happen in the movies, and this wasn’t a movie.
It was a lot for Kyra. Lia could see that. She had always kept an eye on Kyra, ever since she joined arsenal. Making sure to try to create an environment where the younger girl might feel safe and supported no matter what was going on, ‘Hey are you alright?’ Lia took the opportunity while they were resting on the side watching another group of girls take over the drill they were running through.
Kyra was sitting on a ball sipping on water when she felt Lia’s hand on her shoulder and the question directed at her, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Lia saw the way Kyra looked around before answering. Like she was seeing who was around before she replied. She could feel how tense Kyra was just by the touch on her shoulder.
‘Come on, partner with me,’ Kyra smiled softly and followed Lia. The further the two went from the main group the more Kyra visibly relaxed. Lia and Kyra continued doing partner drills, joking around and chatting amongst themselves. The distraction was welcome by Kyra, since Lia came over she’d only been focused on training and hadn’t let her mind wander back to you or anything that was overwhelming her mind earlier. It wasn’t a complete fix but the temporary distraction was nice for a bit. Even though it had only been a few days Kyra was slowly starting to feel like she was losing her mind.
‘Did you want to come over?’ Kyra hesitated a little. She wasn’t sure if any of the other girls would be around, not knowing if she could handle being around a lot of people right now, ‘It can just be the two of us. No pressure, you just seem like you need some time away from everyone where it’s more quiet,’ Lia quickly added when she noticed Kyra’s hesitation.
Kyra thought it over for a minute. She was also supposed to hang out with you again, but honestly Kyra could use this to help her, maybe help to settle her thoughts. She felt that maybe she could trust Lia with her thoughts and feelings, and maybe Lia might have some advice for the younger one, ‘Yeah I’d like that. I just need to sort something out and then I’ll be over, thank you Lia,’
Lia pulled Kyra into a hug, ‘You don’t need to thank me. It’s what friends are for, I’ll always be there for you,’
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
You were in the locker room getting changed after training, headphones on trying to decompress after the session today, when you felt a familiar pair of hands rest on your waist and head lay on your shoulder. 
You smiled and reached up to take off your headphones, ‘Hi Ky,’ Your voice was just above a whisper. Though your smile fell a bit when you turned your head to look at her. Kyra had a small smile on her lips but you could tell something wasn’t right. Kyra’s smile seemed slightly forced, like something wasn’t quite right but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. She didn’t seem upset or anything, Kyra just seemed off in a way you couldn’t describe. 
‘Hey,’ Kyra whispered back, she somehow always made rooms full of people feel like it was just the two of you, ‘Somethings come up, can we rain check?’ Kyra pouted slightly, feeling bad for cancelling on the plans the two of you had. 
Your eyes glanced down towards Kyra’s lips where you noticed the little pout she was giving you. You thought it was cute. Looking away biting your lip slightly before glancing back at Kyra, trying not to let your eyes drift again and giving her a small reassuring smile, ‘Yeah of course Ky. Is everything okay? You can always tell me anything, you know that?’
You felt Kyra cuddle into you more, her arms fully wrapping around your waist, ‘Thank you, but it’s nothing for you to worry about,’ You felt Kyra’s breath against your neck with each word she spoke. Your heart was racing a bit more than usual, your hand soothingly rubbing along her lower arm that was around you, ‘You’re too sweet to me,’ You heard Kyra sigh, barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks heat up but chose to not comment on the last bit she said. 
‘I’ll see you tomorrow the girls are all going out, you’re still coming?’ You were hopeful that whatever was going on with Kyra wasn’t impacting her enough to miss out on a night out with you and the girls. Specifically, you didn’t want to miss out on spending a night with Kyra. 
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t miss out on that,’ Kyra knew she had to let go of you at some point, but being around you made her feel better. You help make all her problems feel so far away. You just make Kyra feel better, like nothing else matters in the moment, ‘Wouldn’t miss out on a night with you. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Kyra mumbled out quickly. Without hesitation, without thinking, Kyra’s lips were on your cheek, giving you a small kiss before pulling away. 
For the both of you it felt like a natural reaction, like something Kyra had done a million times before. It wasn’t something completely unusual for your friendship but it felt different. You stayed in place even while Kyra had left grabbing her things on her way out. 
‘Y’know might want to be a bit more careful,’ Katie’s voice next to you brought you back to reality, leaving behind any thoughts you were having about your interaction with Kyra. Confused by Katie’s comment, you turned your head towards her furrowing your eyebrows, ‘You and Kyra, unless you’re gonna tell Steph,’ 
‘Tell Steph what?’ Your voice was low and if any one else was listening they would be able to hear a slight panic in your tone, ‘We’re best friends, Steph knows that. That’s all,’ You raised your eyebrow at Katie before continuing to pack away your things.
‘Okay, sure,’ You rolled your eyes, you didn’t even need to see her face to know she was smirking, ‘Just saying, no one would care. We just want the best for everyone here, even the pests,’ Katie patted your back, a slight rub while you smiled at her comment, a slight laugh slipping past your lips.
‘I’m happy Kyra’s my best friend,’ Katie gave you a nod, you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more so than anyone else. But there was nothing anyone could do to push along the progress, you had to realise and accept your feelings in your own time. Soon enough you were on your own again but not for long, only until Steph called out for you to see if you were also ready to leave.
‘Everything all good with Kyra?’ Steph asked you once you had both settled into the car. She noticed Kyra seemed a little bit different throughout training. She wasn’t completely her normal self. Barely anyone could get a smile out of Kyra and Steph kind of missed Kyra’s mischief during training. 
‘Yeah, you know she gets more clingy when she’s tired’ You shrugged. The lie easily comes out of your mouth. It wasn’t a complete lie, the truth being you really had no idea what was wrong with Kyra. But you didn’t want to think about that. That your best friend who always tells you what’s wrong or just anything like that, didn’t tell you. You know she doesn’t have to tell you everything, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach wondering why she didn’t confide in you like normal and if you had done anything wrong, ‘Drive faster I want to see Calvy,’
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
‘I’m not going to push you to talk about it. If you need just the company without talking about what’s bothering you then we’ll do just that,’ Lia was the first to speak since Kyra entered Lia’s apartment. Kyra settled on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, watching Lia finish off the last bits to the dinner she was making for them, ‘Just know I am here for you. All the girls are, they just have a different way of showing it. Whenever you’re ready if you want,’
Kyra looked at Lia with a small smile. She was incredibly grateful for the friendships she’s made within the team in a small amount of time. Especially the friend she’s found in Lia. Unlike the others Kyra would potentially consider talking to about her feelings, she knows that Lia isn’t one to outright tease or make fun of her. The others mean well but they can be a bit much. Sometimes all Kyra wants and needs is someone who will listen or just be around without the teasing comments. 
‘I know they mean well but the teasing can be a bit much,’ Kyra’s voice was small. She always tries to brush off every comment, it was easier before she realised she had feelings for her best friend. Kyra could reduce any teasing comment down to it not being true. But now it was true, everything felt different. 
Kyra helped Lia carry everything down to the table, ‘There’s no pressure. I want that to be clear,’
‘I think I like,’ Kyra started but cut herself off shaking her head, picking at the food in front of her, ‘No, I know I like Tiny,’ Kyra couldn’t keep it inside and Lia always made her feel calm and safe. Enough that Kyra blurted out the main thing that had been bugging her the last few days, ‘But I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t know if I should tell her, I don’t want to lose her or risk ruining anything. She might not even like me back and then I’d feel stupid for telling her. What if she hates me for this? Why does it all have to be so hard and confusing?’ 
Lia continued to just listen while Kyra poured out everything that was on her mind. Once Kyra started she kept going until the weight had lifted off her shoulders and she felt like she could breathe again. Kyra kept looking down at her food, slight tears coating her eyes but not enough for any to fall. Part of her is glad to finally get everything off her chest but also she wishes the ground would swallow her whole so she doesn’t have to face what Lia might say.
‘Kyra, one thing I know is that Tiny could never hate you. Anyone can tell how much she loves you. Even if it’s just as friends she wouldn’t leave you. I know you know that,’ Lia’s voice was soft but also firm, wanting her words to sink into Kyra’s head. Regardless of if you liked Kyra the same way, Lia was right in how much love you have for Kyra even just as a friend, ‘No one but her could tell you whether that love is more. But it’s understandable to be scared. You know in your heart when you are ready to tell her, don’t force yourself but listen to yourself. I’ll be right here the whole time no matter what happens,’
Kyra nodded along, offering Lia a small smile in appreciation to her words. Being able to talk through this with someone was a better decision than bottling it up until Kyra eventually exploded, ‘Thank you Lia. It’s hard to listen to myself but I guess that is the only thing I can do. At the end of the day I’ll still have everyone regardless and I have to remind myself of that,’ 
Lia smiled back at Kyra, ‘Now…tell me, what is Tiny like?’ Lia smirked trying to lighten the mood and take Kyra’s mind away from the bigger more serious thoughts that were no doubt racing through her mind.
‘Where do I start?’ Kyra joked, a wide smile taking over her face just at the thought of you, ‘I kind of wish I was with her tonight, I miss her smile and laugh. She just gets me and knows me in a way that no one else ever could. I’ve never wanted more with someone as much as I want this with her,’ The rest of the night Kyra spent gushing over you, while Lia just listened and occasionally made a teasing comment amongst the endless support she made sure to keep reassuring Kyra with.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
You were laying on the couch. Calvin laying on top of you, more like squashing you but dog cuddles were your favourite part of the day, they made up for not getting any Kyra cuddles, ‘Stephy, you expecting someone?’ You heard the knock at the door, Calvin pushing hard on your stomach making you wince when he got up to stand at the door tail wagging.
‘Oh yeah, Leah’s coming over for dinner,’ Steph poked her head out from the kitchen to tell you before disappearing to finish off the food she was cooking.
‘Hey Le, when are you gonna learn to cook?’ You smiled, laughing a little while greeting Leah with a hug before letting her into the apartment, ‘Figured you just kept Wally as your personal chef,’
‘You’re a little shit you know that,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head at you, ‘Kyra’s at Wally’s and I wasn’t allowed to intrude so here I am,’ Your smile dropped slightly after hearing that Kyra was with Lia. Kyra cancelled on your plans to be with Lia instead. It was weird Kyra didn’t tell you. You were sure that if Kyra liked Lia then she would’ve told you about it.
The thought of Kyra liking someone didn’t sit well with you. Your stomach churning at the thought, ‘We weren’t even your first choice,’ You clutched your heart, faking being offended at Leah’s words. Joking around to cover up how you were really feeling, ‘No more Calvy cuddles for you,’ 
You grabbed the dog up into your lap away from Leah. Holding onto Calvin a little closer and a little tighter. Hoping the dog in your lap would help ease the thoughts swirling around in your mind. 
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0097linersb · 2 months
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Little White Lies (m)
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Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Genre: Smut, basically pwp, kind of fluff for a bit
Word count: 5k~
Summary: Satoru gets too excited at the thought of being your husband.
Follow me on twitter: marmitasatosugu <3 I´ll proofread this some other day
You thanked God every day that Satoru had the attention span of a 2-year-old considering that you often got away with stuff solely because he was walking around pointing at random clouds or rambling about what movie to watch later. Shoko joked once that you should just leash him after he rushed excitedly to feed some pigeons on the street, but you just laughed it off – you loved the way he was, fully and completely.
Now to quote an example: after a few years of dating, sometimes you found yourself telling a little white lie around, simply because it was so much easier to just call Satoru your husband rather than your boyfriend, especially since it made people take you so much more seriously. It started small, workers had been referring to the man as your spouse for so long that at some point, you just stopped correcting them. It was great, it was practical; people would treat you with more respect and you would have fun inside your little fantasy world.
“My husband will pay for it, the one with the white hair over there.”
“Good afternoon, I´m looking for a gift for my husband.”
“My husband will pick it up later, thank you.”
“Put it on my husband´s tab, please.”
Satoru never caught on to it and you´d much rather that he never did – but once again, the probabilities of it happening were low: if you weren´t holding his hand, he was probably far from you, exploring the big world around him and all its wonders. But oh well, your luck couldn´t last forever.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Y/N,” The receptionist with the Hawaiian shirt smiled once you and Satoru walked inside the resort hand-in-hand. “This must be your husband, welcome to Crystal Waves, Mr. Gojo. Congratulations on the wedding!”
Frozen in place for a second, you couldn´t for the life of you look at your boyfriend. It´s not that you were ashamed, it was a silly little thing that you knew Satoru wouldn´t mind or judge you for, it´s just that… He would tease you so much, you´d never hear the end of it.
You had forgotten all about how when making the reservations, after a long conversation with the lady on the phone, somehow you ended up with free upgrades because apparently it was your honeymoon – Technically, all you said was that the reservation was for you and your husband, she was the one who, probably trying to be nice, commented that she was surprised because you sounded so young, therefore asking if you were newlyweds, so naturally you agreed because the little lie you told was now too far along to take back.
That was almost two months ago, of course you´d forgotten about it. If you hadn´t, you could have just filled Satoru in on the little story, he would love to play pretend, and this was right up his alley. But you didn´t, so before he could say anything, you swallowed down the embarrassment and pretended normality, “Good afternoon, Martha. Yes, this is he.”
You still didn´t look at Satoru, but you heard him thanking her amusedly.
“We´re so glad to have you here,” She smiled as another worker brought you welcome orange cocktails with a beautiful pink flower decorating the glass before guiding you towards the front desk for check-in.
“Did you have a chance to look at all the activities we offer?” Martha asked after you finished signing the paperwork. “For some of the schedules, we ask for the reservations to be made in advance.”
“Yes, that´s understandable. I´m interested in the SPA treatments; we can book it for tomorrow if you have any spots available.”
“Yes, of course. Are we going for the complete package, back massage, facial, scalp treatment, hot stones, body rub…?”
“I think the back ma-”
“Complete package,” Satoru interrupted, tightening the hold on your hand.
“Ok, perfect. 9 AM, 2 PM or 5PM?” Martha asked, clicking away on the computer, smiling up at Satoru for his romantic gesture.
“9 sound goods.”
“Any other plans?”
You waited for Satoru to answer, since he was the one who spent days rambling about some of the stuff he wanted to do, but since he stayed silent, you cleaned your throat and took it upon yourself, “The parasailing one, what days do you have it available?”
“Will it be just your husband or you´ll be going as well?”
“Both of us.”
“Looks like we have an opening two days from now at 3 PM, does that sound good?”
“Perfect, and what about the White Stones Trail?”
“It happens every Monday at 8 AM, should I book it for the two of you?”
“Oh God no, just for my husband, please.”
You didn´t even notice you got carried away in the role until Satoru dropped your hand, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closed, his thumb rubbing the skin on your side. You still refused to look at him.
“Booked. Anything else?”
“We´d like to go scuba diving on Tuesday.”
“We have a boat leaving at 10 AM.”
“Sounds good. I guess that´s all for now.”
“All set then, these are the keys to your room. The elevator is at the end of the hall to your left, press 10. Your bags are already waiting for you inside. Hope you have an incredible stay and please find me if you need anything.”
You both thanked Martha before you spun in your heels and tried to make a run for it, your escape plan being quickly ruined by Satoru´s hand finding yours once again, holding you close. Taking a deep breath, you accepted defeat and prepared yourself mentally for the next days of hell.
“So…” Satoru started once you were out of earshot from the main desk. You didn´t look at him but you could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was smiling as you walked down the hall.
“Don´t start,” You warned.
“Too late. Husband, huh?”
“Listen, don´t get your panties in a twist-”
“Oh, I´m absolutely getting my panties in a twist.”
“There´s a logical explanation for all of this,” You informed as he pressed the elevator button.
“Which is?”
“I don´t want to talk about it.”
“But you will.”
You sighed, “When I made the reservations, I told them it was our honeymoon so we´d get upgraded and get like, some free stuff.”
The elevator doors dinged open and you walked in, not even being able to appreciate the paradisiacal panoramic beach view inside. Satoru dropped your hand now that you had nowhere to run, leaning against the glass window and crossing his arms to look at you attentively – At least that´s what you guessed since your eyes were glued to the ceiling.
“Y/N, I´m rich,” He stated as a matter of fact, because well, it was true. “You don´t need to lie to get stuff.”
Shit.
He caught you on your semi-lie - and he knew it too by the way there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shouldn´t have looked at him.
“Fuck, ok,” You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he wouldn´t just accept your answer and move on. Taking another deep breath, you carefully measured your words: “Sometimes, for practical reasons, I just tell people we´re married.”
“For practical reasons?”
“Yes, it makes my life easier in certain situations.”
“And how long have you been doing this for?”
Would this damn elevator never reach your floor?
“A few months.”
“And what are you telling people I am?”
“Are you stupid? If we´re married, you´re my husband.”
“Which makes you, my wife.”
The doors finally opened and Satoru reached for your hand, practically dragging you along with his abnormally long legs as you stared at his back.
“Yes Satoru, that´s the correct term.”
“So, you're telling people that you´re my wife?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, struggling to keep up with his pace and confused at his reaction. You expected insufferable teasing for the next few days and not… Whatever this was.
“Yes Sato – Are you ok? Did you hit your head or something?”
“No,” He finally stopped in front of your room, turning around to look at you with a huge smile on his face as you caught your breath. “I´m just so hard right now.”
“You- You´re what now?” You choked out as he searched his pockets for the magnetic card that opened the door. Your eyes automatically trailed down his pants and he was indeed not lying about his current state. “Do you have a thing for elevators?”
Satoru celebrated when he found the key, positioning it against the lock and smiling when he heard the engines turning, eyes back on you as he opened the door eagerly, “No, but I do have a thing for you calling me your husband.”
He didn´t wait for an answer, pulling you into the room and practically banging the door closed before pressing you against it. Satoru ripped his black glasses off, throwing them somewhere on the floor before bending down to your height so your faces were only inches apart.
“Say it again.”
“Satoru, let´s look around the room first, enjoy the view -”
“That can wait, I´d rather enjoy this view for now.”
“´Twas expensive,” You tried again.
“I´d spend all my money on you. Now say it again.”
“What?”
“Call me your husband.”
You were still so confused, was this a trap? For some reason, Satoru seemed to be enjoying it, a bit too much even. You let your walls crumble down slightly, wrapping your arms around Satoru´s neck so you´d be more comfortable.
“My husband?” You tentatively obeyed.
He instantly groaned, crashing his lips against yours with so much need that you felt like this was your first time all over again. He started by holding your face, his hands so big that he could hold your jaw with his palms while his fingers dug at the roots of your hair on your nape. He just held you like you were absolutely everything in the world to him and that got your legs weak. His tongue massaged yours and you were whining against his mouth in no time, hands clawing at his black shirt harsher every time he grinded against you. Satoru was equally as worked up, his chest heaving up and down as his hands left your face to grab at the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips.
It was so much easier kissing him like this, since you were actually able to reach him. Unfortunately though, this new position got your boyfriend´s throbbing cock right against your core which you know, did nothing to calm you down. You grabbed at his hair in pure need, making a mess out of it as he left your swollen and wet lips alone to attack your neck.
“You´re so beautiful,” He groaned against your neck after he sucked at your jugular, his hips subconsciously bucking against yours. “Can´t believe you´re mine.”
“Satoru,” You moaned as he bit into the junction of your shoulder and neck.
His lips caught yours once again in another messy and aggressive kiss, his right hand leaving your thigh to start bunching up the bottom of your dress until he could see your panties.
“I could just take you right now,” He groaned against your lips.
“Then do it.”
The corner of his lips tugged up in amusement, “Now that´s no way to treat my wife, is it?”
His own words seemed to light another fire inside him, before you could even react, he was kissing you roughly once again, spinning the two of you around and carrying you towards the bed, where he threw you unceremoniously. You yelped at the impact and once more when he grabbed at your calves, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You supported yourself up on your elbows, so you could see when he went down to his knees in between your legs.
He stayed there on the floor for a few seconds, simply admiring the wet spot on your panties, your legs folded up so they wouldn´t be dangling from the edge of the bed. As you were about to complain, he pressed his thumb right on your clit over the fabric, before slowly rubbing circles with the pad of his finger, staring at what he was doing like he was hypnotized. A gasp left your lips at the surprise feeling and his eyes, which were so focused, snapped out of the trance to look up at you.
As your eyes met, he smiled, “My wife.”
“What´s up with you?” You shakily asked as he gently slid your panties down your legs, throwing them away somewhere.
“I just like the sound of it,” Satoru answered as he grabbed at your thighs once again, positioning them on his shoulders, placing a wet kiss on your inner tight.
Your head fell back in pleasure when he bent down, slowly licking your slit from bottom to top before giving your clit a light suck. He then pulled away slightly and you could already see his lips glistening, his arms wrapped around your tights firmly.
“Tell me you´ll marry me.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, not familiar with this type of foreplay and not sure if this was the right setting for this type of discussion. In response to your silence, he dove back in, his tongue eagerly working on your clit – Why did your boyfriend, besides being rich and extremely hot, also have to be good at just fucking everything?
As soon as you left a moan out and he felt your body start twitching at his ministrations, he leaned back once again, “Tell me.”
He looked at you so hungrily that you heard yourself answering before even realizing, “I´ll marry you, Satoru.”
“And that we will have a big, beautiful family.”
And suddenly, it all made sense: Gojo Satoru, the single most powerful sorcerer in the whole world, unraveled at the thought of marrying you, of you being his, of being loved and having a happy family. Your chest filled with so much love suddenly; your boyfriend was such a loser.
“I´ll give you all that,” You agreed.
Even if it was a fantasy, for this moment it didn´t have to be.
You gave him the answer he wanted, and he excitedly went back to his job after hearing your words. His tongue expertly lapping at you in between kisses and sucks, one of your hands flying to grab at his hair to try and ground yourself. Even after years with this man, you´d never be able to get used to just how good he was at fucking you - and today especially, after a long time of not being touched because either you or him were always away for work, you were feeling extra sensitive.
Satoru knew exactly what to do to get you squirming in record time, flatting his tongue to draw circles against your clit, flicking his tongue from side to side, up and down, fucking it into you and it just drove you absolutely crazy. Even his groans of pleasure as he ate you out with so much hunger, vibrating against you, got your head spinning.
“I´m close,” You moaned, as if he didn´t already know.
“Not yet, hang in there,” He stopped, breathing hard and turning his head to the side, vehemently kissing the inner part of your thigh twice more before sitting up on his knees. “I´m having fun.”
He completely ignored your whines of protest, sitting you up so his face was now right in front of your boobs. Satoru smiled in victory at the view, softly sliding the two straps of your dress down your shoulder until all the fabric fell to your waist. Your boyfriend wasted no time, kissing all over the skin of your chest and leaving what soon would be many deep purple marks, his thumb teasing your nipples.
“Have I told you how much I love your boobs?”
“A few times,” You joked in between gasps, you both knew he would tell you that like, at least once a day.
“If I could just hold them all day I´d be the happiest man on earth,” Was the last thing he said before his mouth latched around your nipple, your back arching into the touch.
Once Satoru was satisfied with his work, he gently pushed you back into bed and climbed on top of you, supporting his weight on his two arms. At this point, you were just praying that he would fuck you already, you were dripping, walls clenching around nothing so desperately it hurt – and your boyfriend wasn´t much better, in this position you could feel very clearly how much his cock was throbbing.
You whined in need as he stared at you with his pretty blue eyes and laughed at your desperation – as if you couldn´t see he was about to cum in his pants too.
“What does my baby want?” He smirked condescendingly, amused at your need.
“To be fucked,” You groaned.
“Ah, anything for my wife,” He agreed, now only supporting his weight on his left arm as he snaked his other hand in between your bodies. “Just let me open you up first.”
You would complain you didn´t need to be prepped, but before you could say anything, his middle finger was already inside you and you forgot what you were going to say. He gently and languidly pumped his finger in and out a few times, adding another when he considered you were good to go.
You were a whiny mess, especially when he curled his fingers and found spots no one ever could before.
“Will you take my family name?” Satoru asked suddenly, his face right in front of yours, attentively watching your expression, his hair tickling your forehead. You were too out of it to even process the words coming out of his mouth. “You know the Gojo Clan is one of the most important and powerful clans in the country. It would sound nice, Gojo Y/N.”
He smiled kind of sadistically at your dazed expression before continuing, his fingers not stopping even once, “Or I could take your last name, I don´t mind. Who gives a fuck about the Gojo Clan anyways? I just suggested it ´cause I´d love everyone to know you´re mine.”
Satoru sped up his fingers and you grabbed his arm, your whole body shaking as your high approached, “But if you accept, you´ll be the heiress of everything, everything will be yours, including me. You can do anything you want, order whoever you want, and spend whatever you want, I´ll let you rule over it all, one snap of your fingers and it´s yours. My wife, the head of the Gojo clan.”
A dragged-out moan left your lips not only because of his restless fingers inside of you, but also because of the whole scenario he was painting, he wanted you to have it all, he wanted to be the one to give you everything. He felt the way your walls were squeezing around him and smiled, slowing down his fingers, “But for now, I´ll be a good husband and fuck my beautiful wife until she´s crying.”
At that, your eyes lit up, quickly sitting up to unbutton his shirt as he unzipped his pants. Once he was done with his trousers, he started helping you with the buttons and you abandoned your task, deciding to litter the already exposed parts of his chest and abdomen with kisses, an “I love you” leaving your mouth in between each touch of your lips on his skin – Because you did, you loved him so much.
The show of affection drove Satoru crazy, harshly throwing his shirt away. You were equally insane at the sight of your boyfriend in just his boxers, practically salivating as if this wasn´t the thousandth time you´d seen him like this. He caught you looking at him in pure awe and smiled, leaning over you for a quick sweet kiss before getting rid of his boxers.
“I´ll get you a ring so big it´ll weigh on your finger,” He informed as he climbed on top of you. “Everyone will be able to spot it from miles away.”
“Don´t want it, just want you.”
“You already have me,” He held your face, his eyes so intense you froze for a second. “Always had, always will.”
“What a simp,” You teased as if you weren´t right about to cry.
“Only for my wife,” He smiled, admiring your face.
“And now will my husband finally please fuck me?”
You said it kind of jokingly, but the title appeared to do the trick anyways; you felt his cock twitching against your thigh before he grabbed at one of your legs, pushing your knee slightly up and groaning as he grabbed his member to position it against you.
After all this lovey-dovey talk, you kind of expected Satoru to want to make slow gentle sappy love to you, and you wouldn´t exactly mind since that was amazing as well, but oh you were so wrong. You had miscalculated how horny the thought of being your husband got your boyfriend, because as he entered you, a loud groan left his lips and while normally he would wait for you to adjust to his size, this time he just kept going. At least he was slow with it, slow enough that you could feel every vein, every inch of his skin against your walls, every ridge, every bump.
You dug your nails into his back to distract yourself from the discomfort as he bottomed out, his lips open in a silent moan, and you caught yourself thinking about how lucky you were; out of everyone in the world, you were the only one who got to see the Honored one like this, so vulnerable and beautiful and yours.
“You feel so good,” He breathed out, beginning to drag his cock out. “Every fucking time.”
You didn´t care if it hurt, you wanted him to destroy you, “Satoru?”
“Yes, beautiful?”
As he started fucking into you again, you lost your words, but the pleading look you gave him and the drag of your nails down his back sent him the message loud and clear.
“Oh,” He smirked. “How am I so lucky?”
You felt his lips on yours as he began to speed up his hips, his right hand wrapping around your thigh so he could pull you flush against his cock. You cursed, feeling like you were being impaled, “Fuck.”
“To have a beautiful sweet loving wife who wants to be fucked like a slut.”
His hips were so smooth yet so fast, knowing all the right angles to get you biting at his shoulder and squeezing your walls around him.
“And you know what´s the best? All these men wanting you will have to know you´re only mine.”
It came as a surprise to you after a few months of dating that Satoru Gojo was a jealous boyfriend. It made absolutely no sense to you, considering that he was… well, Satoru Gojo. Like, what do you mean the strongest and most powerful man in the world, who could end all civilization with a flick of his finger if he wanted to, got bothered when you and Nanami took a cooking class together?
However, you kind of liked his possessiveness over you, especially when it made him thrust harder into you, got his tongue in your mouth in public, or his hand around your neck at a bar.
He felt the way you clenched at his words, breaking apart from you with a groan and flipping you around before you could even process what was happening. The way he could just throw you around so easily got you moaning into the sheets as you arched your back waiting for him.
Satoru didn´t leave you waiting for long, a second later he was already bottoming out inside you once again, and the hotel sheets were proven to be good quality when they didn´t rip under your fingers as he fucked you like his life depended on it.
You were completely lost, brain scrambled as you communicated through moans and gasps, especially when he pulled you up by the neck so your back stood against his chest. His hand stayed there, holding you in place and choking you as his other hand teasingly found its way down your abdomen, finding your clit as its destination.
Your whole body was shaking, Satoru´s arms were probably almost bleeding with how harshly your nails dug into it so you wouldn´t scream.
“You were made for me. Your pussy was made for me,” His moan was raspy against your ear. “Mine. Only for me. Your husband.”
Satoru was close and you were doing your best to buck your hips back to meet his thrusts, already at the edge too with the way his finger kept rubbing number eights against your clit. You stretched your hand back to grab at his hair, stupid at the feeling of being fucked open. He groaned at you pulling his hair, biting your shoulder to warn you he was about to cum.
“Inside,” You rasped.
He literally shivered at your words, a loud moan leaving his mouth as he thrust into you deeper than anyone had ever been before, including himself. Your vision went blank, your orgasm hitting you without warning and no time for you to prepare yourself, your body twitched violently as gasps left your lips, knowing you would have fallen like a doll if Satoru hadn´t been holding your neck.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck,” He cursed, losing control at the way your walls were crazily clenching around him.
His wet and warm mouth was soon on your shoulders, desperately kissing the bite marks he was leaving. You barely felt as he came inside you, or how his cock twitched against your walls, or how you could barely breathe with how tight he held your neck once his orgasm hit, too lost in your own pleasure. You did hear the beautiful noises coming out from his lips, prolonging your orgasm.
Once the two of you came back to reality, breathing hard, Satoru gently let go of your neck, softly rubbing his thumb over the red marks. As expected, your legs failed to hold you and your chest met the bed a second later, your eyes closed to try and come down from your high.
Satoru stayed on his knees, eyes glued to the way you were dripping out because of your walls´ spasms. He just couldn´t help himself, gathering all his cum that spilled with his fingers, ignoring your whines of protest, and pushing it all back in.
“Just a second baby,” He answered dazedly, his fingers still working.
He was obsessed, addicted to the view. No matter how much your body twitched because of the overstimulation, he couldn´t stop pumping his fingers into you, feeling how wet and slick you were around him. He groaned at the way your lips were swollen because of him, thumb gently rubbing your clit. He continued until your whines turned into moans, until your hips stopped trying to run away and instead bucked back against his fingers, until he felt himself getting hard again.
You didn´t complain when you felt his cock entering you once again, his lips worshiping your back as your eyes remained closed, slightly arching your hips to give him better access as he slowly and gently fucked you. Satoru caressed your hair and kissed your temples, your nape, your eyes, all while calling you beautiful and telling you how much he loved you.
…………………………………………….
“Gojo Satoru.”
Sensing your tone, he didn´t answer in pure fear.
The silence made you leave the bathroom, staring at your boyfriend who was in bed looking at you with wide eyes, “What´s wrong, baby?”
“We´re at a beach resort,” You said in between gritted teeth. “How the fuck am I supposed to go to the beach when it looks like I have been mauled by a bear after being dragged around town by a car?”
“I´m sorry, I got carried away.”
“Oh my god, call Martha and cancel the SPA day tomorrow.”
“I can give you a massage-”
“You´re never touching me again, Satoru.”
He smirked at that, “Yeah, give me a few hours and we´ll see.”
You hated that he was right.
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