#they made like four movies together and this is the only one where they end up together

[ghoulpiled]

ʟᴏꜱ ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ || Teaser

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

❧𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x fem!Reader

❧𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧g: E / MATURE! Minors, DO NOT interact!

❧ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: nothing yet but it will get really explicit

❧𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: ~1200 words

❧𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're an up and coming actress and he's America's sweetheart. (WIP summary)

❧ɴᴏᴛᴇ: This is my current WIP but be prepared for it to be so much longer and juicer and drama filled. I just wanted to get this out so y'all can see I am indeed COOKING !!! Also, A Man and His Dog was based off of A Boy and His Dog so that is what I based it off of!

-♡-

You have been in the acting game for far too long. Originally you were advertising royalty. Your mom first put you into commercial gigs at the young age of five. Luckily for your mom, BlamCo Mac & Cheese was looking for the new poster child. Your face was plastered on billboards all around Hollywood. “Nothing says dinner like BlamCo Mac & Cheese. Bring the family together for a dish everyone will enjoy.” This phrase will forever be etched into the grooves of your brain. But as all gigs go, you outgrew BlamCo. Once you hit age ten, you couldn’t be the cutesy little kid telling families to eat the most disgusting mac and cheese known to man. Like many gigs will do, you were dropped from the gig. It paid well. Well, it paid your mom well.

She would go on lavish vacations without you. Only leaving you with a babysitter. This babysitter ended up raising you. Your mom would also buy herself expensive dresses and handbags. What would you get? Hand Me downs of whatever wardrobe on commercials could give you. This was a common theme early on in your career. The money you made was promised to you once you hit eighteen. Enough money to go to college and make a name for yourself professionally. After the BlamCo gig, you hit a dry spell. No one wanted a kid going through puberty as the face of their brand. With money getting tight, your mom signed you up for every and any background character role in a film and TV show she could. That’s where Nuka Cola noticed you.

Upon hitting sixteen, Nuka Cola representatives came up to your mom offering you a four year contract to be the face of Nuka Cola. It paid insanely well. So you did it. Another gig with your face plastered everywhere. From highway billboards to full body cut outs of you in Red Rockets across the country, you were back in the limelight. But those four years went by quickly. Once the contract ended, you were eighteen. You were excited to throw your acting career away. Child stardom was too damn much. College was going to be a fresh start for you! To no one’s surprise, you never got your money. To make it worse, your mom kicked you out of the house. She didn’t see you as profitable anymore. Mainly because you are old enough to go your own way.

Due to all these gigs, you never had time to make friends. So you took to crashing on random old co-star’s couches. You were back to background gigs. Which paid okay but not enough to help pay for college. Sadly, that was a dream you could never catch. It took three years for you to finally get your foot back in the door with big acting gigs. That gig being A Man and His Dog. A film in which you play the main female character who is supposed to seduce the main lead. It wasn’t really a film expected to go anywhere. The lead was a man straight out of the Sino-American War who had never acted a day in his life. This was also your first big gig, you’re not one to talk. Unknown to you, that man would become western movie royalty. A young and disgruntled Cooper Howard.

First day on set was odd. No one really talked to you. Not even the director. There was no way you were to know if you were doing the role justice. They had you in a wedding dress with white face paint. It was embarrassing. You stand near your trailer, lighting up a cigarette during lunch. Rent was due that night and you had no money to pay it. If this gig didn’t make a lot of money, you’re screwed. With a shaky breath, you look down at the ground. You’re getting cigarette ash all over this dress. Wardrobe is going to kill you.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”

The southern voice takes you out of your thoughts as you look up. You rub your eyes, messing up the makeup you have on. Now your hand is stained white. Great. Cooper walks over to you before leaning against your trailer. He takes out a cigarette of his own and begins to smoke with you. This is the first person to speak with you and it's the lead of the film. You try to act natural but you’re smitten. There is some charm he holds. Maybe it’s the fact you’re playing weird lovers in the film or the fact you have never been in contact with such a gorgeous man before. This moment right now makes you realize you’ve never had your first kiss. Your life has been acting gig after acting gig. No time for personal relationships.

“Are ya just gon’ stare at me?” He chuckles, voice smooth like whiskey.

You clear your throat and shake your head.

“Sorry, I’m not used to small talk.” Is all you can truly muster.

He offers you a kind smile. One that feels like sickly sweet honey on a hot day. It makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. He already has you wrapped around his finger. Maybe it’s the southern drawl that burns like a good bourbon. He is one hell of a charmer.

“Ain’t small talk unless you want it to be.” He takes a long drag from his cigarette, licking his bottom lip.

“You’re killing it by the way. The director is- pardon my language- a dick.” Cooper scoffs, shaking his head. He flicks his cigarette onto the ground and stomps on it which causes you to do it to your own.

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“You can tell me that.” You turn to face him, leaning against your own trailer.

Maybe this set wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

-

During set, you would crash at Cooper’s apartment. A tiny place near filming. You ended up getting evicted because you couldn’t afford rent. It was only logical you still find somewhere to crash. You’re lucky you became close with Cooper. He’s a gentleman. Made you feel at home. You opened up about your childhood and he opened up about war.

War. It was a scary thing. His stories kept you on the edge of your seat. Here you were, thinking you had a tough past. Almost all of Cooper’s friends are dead because of the war. You could only comfort him.

-

After filming wrapped, you were thrusted into the world of press. The press tour with Cooper was something else. The director wanted you two to lean into a facade. He wanted the both of you to act like lovers. This was to sell the film, lean into that romance your two characters had. You couldn’t flirt for shit without a script. Cooper, however, was a complete natural.

You followed Cooper’s lead. You know it was all an act but you were falling for him. Hard. He was the first man to ever give you the time of day. You knew it was fake flirting but every blush that he caused was real. The film ended up being big enough to push both Cooper and you into the spotlight. Now you’re landing gigs like crazy as well as him.

You both play lovers again in another western B-film. This one didn’t have the same success as the prior film but it was still another film you did with Cooper.

to be continued...

[berzahoes]

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

[bangarangdarling]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[bradshawsbaby]

Like Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!

Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.

If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.

“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”

“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.

“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”

“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.

“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.

Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.

“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”

As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.

Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.

“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.

The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”

“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.

“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.

“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”

You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.

The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.

Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.

Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.

At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.

Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.

And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?

You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.

They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.

You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.

The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.

You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.

“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”

“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”

“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.

Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.

“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”

The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.

As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.

At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.

You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.

“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.

“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.

“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.

The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.

The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.

“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”

Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.

“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.

“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”

“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.

“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.

“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.

Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.

“Which one do you think is the cutest?”

“Do you see one you like?”

“Claim one now before we get over there!”

Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.

“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”

“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.

“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.

“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.

Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.

“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”

Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.

Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”

Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.

“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.

Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.

“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.

“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.

“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.

“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.

“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”

“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”

“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”

“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.

“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.

You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.

Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.

Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.

What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.

It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.

Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.

Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.

Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.

“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.

You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.

He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”

He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.

He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”

Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.

He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.

“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.

“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.

Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.

“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.

In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.

“I like it,” you told him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.

The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.

“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”

You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”

“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”

“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.

You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.

As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”

“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.

Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”

“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.

“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.

“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.

“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.

“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.

“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.

“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.

“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.

“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Why were you going to leave?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”

Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”

You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.

“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.

Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.

“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.

“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.

“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”

He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”

“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”

He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.

The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.

It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.

The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.

“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”

“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.

“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.

“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.

“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.

“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.

“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.

“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”

Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”

“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.

Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.

“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.

“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.

“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.

“Hey, wait a second—”

“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.

Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.

“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”

Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.

[hanibalistic]

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 2861

warning | brief mention of bullying / mentions of death (reader from earth-42 has passed) / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie 

note | i had to write something :'( it's been on my mind!

parts | one, two, three, four

Against his better judgment, Miles felt restless, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the miraculous event of you coming back from the dead or that seeing your face again made him realize how deeply he has deluded himself into thinking he had changed.  

The truth was that he hadn't changed. He merely made the decision to completely push his identity away after your death, as it was the only way to shield his fragile mind from unraveling into a pit of suicidal doom, where all he could ever think about was to follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell. He put his face into a mask unseen by all, not even himself, and the mask ripped itself aggressively when he saw you fainted in the dead end of an alleyway at night. You were supposed to be six feet underground—he watched you fall off a skyscraper! He watched you get put six feet underground! How were you alive?

"Shit."

Miles cursed through a frustrated groan as he pushed the covers off his body. The clock in his room enunciated each tick of a second, reminding him how long it had been since he plopped himself on the bed and tried to get some shut-eye. The ticking noise irritated his ears like chalk scraping against a blackboard, and he would have thrown something at it if you and his mother weren't around to hear the damage. Staring at the dim ceiling, he heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes, not to get some sleep but to piece together everything that happened so far. 

First, he found you fainted in an alleyway. He brought you home and decided to hide you in his room. A person who has been dead for nearly two years coming back to life was not the easiest news to break to anybody. He managed not a whole day of concealing your existence before his mother found out when she was tidying up the dirty clothes in his room. Baffled and even a little creeped out, she helped nurse you after you woke up, which was only later that night.

Second, Miles called Uncle Aaron to help make sense of this situation, which led to him finding out that you weren't from this world at all—Miles clenched his fist as his train of thought shattered. 

He always forgot you were not the same [Name] he knew; not the childhood best friend, and not the person he harbored secret romantic feelings for. He wanted so badly for you to be them, for him to be able to turn away from the guilt of not saving you years ago. For the most part, he did. The immense joy of spending these past few days with you, albeit with a few stuttered words and clumsy movements because you were both getting used to each other, was an experience very familiar to how it used to be like with the ‘you’ he knew of. 

Miles took you everywhere upon your request, and his mother encouraged him to go out. He took you to play in the arcade, eat at the local sandwich place, and stand atop a massive neon sign advertising for a corporate brand. The only place he refused to bring you to was the skyscraper where ‘you’ died, and you didn’t push him to do so after the first time he refused. He kept himself relatively guarded these days, much like he has always been. But during the times with you, he has never felt more childish and happy. Chasing you down a crowded street and being forced to hold your hand like a leash was normalcy he forgot he deeply yearned for, and it made him happy. 

The cause of his insomnia was simple: you. More specifically, the fact that you gave him something to think about, to worry about, and to lose.

Miles exhaled with exhaustion as he got off the bed. He thought a cup of water would do him good. It could clear his head. Pushing open his room door quietly to not wake his mother, flashes of colors on the television screen greeted him immediately, accompanied by the rhythmic tilts of your head as you watched the commercials on silent. He raised a brow. You were humming a song in your head; he wondered what it sounded like. Also, you should be sleeping so you can get some rest.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you?” 

“Fair ‘nuff,” Miles muttered as he walked past the couch to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water when you sheepishly trailed into the area to watch him. Your stare made him uncomfortable, so he turned away from you and quickly chucked the whole cup of water down. He almost slammed the cup near the sink, stopping just before the glass could make a noise against the kitchen counter. “What?”

“I thought you have something to do tomorrow,” you said, ignoring his impatient tone. 

“Yeah? What of it?” He shrugged, focusing on cleaning the glass with tap water.

“You should get some rest, then.”

“Thanks, my insomnia is gone now.” He rolled his eyes and wiped his hands on the towel hung on a magnet stuck to the side of the fridge.

The sound of your pitter-patter footsteps followed him as he made his way out of the kitchen. You hovered around him, watching him with squinted eyes as if trying to access him. He ignored you; he found the only way to keep his emotional walls up and guarded was to ignore you as best as possible. He had missed ‘you’ so dearly that even bickering with you was an activity left to be desired, and he could not afford to want more of you than he already did. He set himself a limit, and he planned to stick with it.

“Insomnia!” you whispered with a beaming face as if he didn’t just straightforwardly tell you his problem was his inability to fall asleep. You clapped your hands and held them in front of your chest in an intertwined position. “Let me help you. I know a good way to fall asleep!”

“Being around you is not one of them,” Miles muttered.

"Don't be mean," you said through a huffed-out giggle before you made a beeline to his open room.

He closed his eyes to hold down the pit of quiet rage burning in his chest. Your spontaneity was challenging to handle. His body could keep up with you weaving in and out of crowds. If anything, he was much faster than you could ever be. But his heart could not keep up with having to follow you around constantly, his eyes trailing your back, his legs picking up their pace to go where you go, and his voice talking whenever you talk. He set himself a limit for how much he would let you into his life—

Miles returned to his room to find you sitting cross-legged on his bed, grinning at his arrival.

—and you punched past it with ease. 

"By the way, I'm sorry I have to keep wearing your clothes," you mentioned as you extended your arms, letting his sweater sleeve fall over your hands. "Your uncle's clothes are too big for me, and I don't like wearing sleep gowns."

He didn't mind. "I'll take you to get something when I'm free," he said. He planned to veto anything you wanted to keep you rummaging through his closet. 

"You're taking me shopping?" you pursed your lips into a playful smile before you smacked your face with your hands, your torso squirming about to make an even bigger mockery of the situation. "How sweet, Miles!" 

Too much ease—his walls crumbled like sandcastles under a gust of wind when he turned away from you to allow himself a chuckle. Then he caught himself. He rubbed the tip of his nose and fixed his jaw before returning to you; his less-than-menacing glare became dull and soft once his eyes filled with your reflection. He leisurely pointed at the bedroom door and almost laughed again when he demanded, "Go back to your room."

You pulled a face. He doesn’t get to tell you to do that. “No.”

"Get off my bed, then."

You thought about it for a little before you agreed. Scrambling off, you kept your arms on the edge of his bed, and your legs slumped onto the floor with the bed's support. Miles furrowed his brows when you tapped the empty spot on his bed twice, and he begrudgingly filled the space when he realized you didn't plan on leaving. 

"I got you. You're gonna fall asleep in no time!" you exclaimed quietly, touching his chest. "This helped me a lot when I have trouble sleeping."

"Pattin' your chest helps you fall asleep?" he questioned in disbelief. Then, a beat later, he fired a question with a bitter taste, "Who's touching you like this?" 

“Just me,” you replied, laying your cheek on your forearm. “Patting my chest helps me regulate my breathing, which is good for after I cry.”

He shifted his head slightly to eye you. “You cry a lot?”

“Hmm… no,” you mused. “Just when bad things happen.” 

“Like what?”

“Like these.” 

You lifted your head and raised your arm upward. Taking a break from the beat you rested on his chest, you pulled down the sleeve and flipped your forearm to his direction, showing him a short, bulging scar decorated just below your inner elbow. Miles lifted his body from the pillow and raised a brow curiously at the nasty scar, but he kept his opinion to himself. He watched as you pulled the sleeve down to cover it, and he deduced that there must be more of those injuries scattered across your body. Relaxing back onto his bed, he shrugged.

“One hell of a fall,” he commented.

“No, someone cut me,” you clarified as you leaned back onto your arm and pressed your hand to his chest again, “someone from school.”

It took him a moment to register your words and then another short moment to register the unfamiliar rage traveling through his body. This was unlike himself, unlike what he felt as the prowler. The signature thrill and trigger-happy sensation didn’t exist in this version of his anger. His fingers twitched with each jump of his thoughts, his hooded eyes scratching out an empty figure on the ceiling as if replaying the pain you must have gone through to receive that scar, and he recognized his anger as slow and steady, brooding and demonic. 

There was no use holding a grudge against someone from a universe away, but Miles thought he would kill whoever hurt you. With the right technology, he may even erase their existence forever. Never mind killing; dying, in some sense, was a blessing. What if those people were never even born? Their existence wiped off the face of Earth, reduced to nothingness, with no pictures, no songs, and no memories to preserve even a trace of their livelihood. 

“Hey, you can’t fall asleep like this.” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “You’re being really tense, Miles.”

“That’s 'cause you’re terrible at helping people fall asleep,” he retorted as the muffling in his ears began to scatter.

You scoffed but didn’t cease the rhythmic pat on his chest. Instead, you turned your focus elsewhere. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“What was I like?” 

He sighed. “I’m not talking about it.” 

“Fresh wound. Got it,” you said with a nod. But he knew better than to let his guard down. The smacking of your teeth was an indication of your mind gears turning—unbeknownst to him, he had your habits memorized in a span of a few days. A frown increasingly widened on your face until your mind map ended, and you hummed at the distaste in your mouth. “Were you in with love them? It feels like you were.”

He glared at you pointedly, but the intimidation passed your head as you leveled him with a curious gaze. Miles choked on his thoughts. Nothing he could do here would stop you from believing in his denial. He could turn away, ignore you, or even verbally deny your question! Nothing would have gotten you to let go of your correct assumption that he was in love with ‘you,’ and by extension, him being in love with you too.

“What made you think I was?” he asked, flipping the attention to you. 

You let out a curt giggle and sheepishly shrunk into yourself. “You’re really nice to me.”

“Because we were friends.”

“Yeah,” you mused with a grimace before you smiled. “But it’s much more interesting to think you were in love, isn’t it?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes and rubbed his face in exhaustion. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course! I’m sorry, it must be tough to have the love of your life watch you while you sleep,” you snickered with a few nods of approval directed at yourself. 

You rested one side of your cheek against the bedsheet, finally deciding to heed his plea to be quiet. Miles took your silence as a chance to close his eyes and finally relax into his headspace. The consistent pat of your palm on his chest served as a hypnotic device to lure you to sleep more than it was for him. The real lure of peace for him was more from your presence in his room and the soft humming that trailed out of your shut lips. That must have been the song you were thinking of when you watched the television on silent; Miles got it memorized after a few loops of it. 

You shifted sleepily on the floor and looked at him. You thought he didn’t look so hateful asleep as he always did. He looked at everything with such coldness, distant enough to be out of reach but close enough to justify hating everything. With you, his eyes held a sense of unwilling defeat, like he was grounding himself on the spot to keep from running to you, and he hated every minute of it even though he thought it was for his own good to shut himself out. He always looked like someone refrained from holding a loved one as they stood before him with open arms.

Your suspicion that he was in love with you from this world didn’t spawn out of nowhere. You merely knew he wasn’t ready to be confronted with his feelings, so you made a humorous joke out of it instead. But you could tell. You could always tell because nobody had ever looked at you like that before, and for once, someone’s unfamiliar eyes made you feel a centuries' worth of romance rather than torture. 

“It’s nice to know a version of me is likable,” you muttered to yourself, and you laughed. "And I thought nobody would ever fall in love with me.”

Miles laid still on his bed for a little longer, listening to the clock tick by. When your humming ceased and your hand stopped patting a beat on his chest, he opened his eyes and carefully turned his body toward your direction. He took a good look at you; his eyes brushed past those identical pair of eyes, your recognizable nose, your soft lips, the curve of your jaw, and your ears made small over his hands. A shivering breath latched at the tip of his tongue, and he had to huff through his nose to remind himself to breathe.

You didn’t wake when he carefully hooked his arm under your legs and pulled you onto his bed. He made space for you on his bed, and he made space for you in his concealed heart that once only belonged to him.

Despite the illusion, his mind knew who you were, but his heart couldn’t pick apart the differences. Except it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. This wasn’t about how you both looked and sounded the same. This was about him and his feelings. This was about him having fallen in love with you before, and now, as he felt his shattered heart piecing itself together through the mere sight of your sleeping face, he was about to do it again. His heart knew you were different, and it did not care. He was ready to fall in love with you again, and he was ready to fall in love with you anywhere.

Because the moon never stops orbiting around the sun. Because Miles chose to let go of himself instead of letting go of the love he has for you. Because he would fall in love with you every time, and he would choose you over himself every time. 

“What do you even know,” he touched your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “about people falling in love with you?”

What do you even know about Miles Morales falling in love with you?

He hugged you close and shut his eyes.

You knew absolutely nothing. 

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day four: voyeurism kink

>>> guys can you tell i have a choso fantasy or do i need to write another five thousand word fic to prove it i'm sobbing and actually in love with him fr. it took me days to write this bc i was just too feral.

>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: roommate choso, hung like a horse choso, virgin choso, voyeurism clearly, petnames, masturbation, cowgirl, implied multiple rounds, choso whimpers you're so welcome, choso smokes a blunt grow up >>> wc: 4.8k >>> event masterlist

this whole roommate ordeal seemed easy enough. you had a spare room in your condo, yuji had a spare brother that needed a place to stay after graduation. it worked out perfectly, as you weren’t too keen on having a rando move in. though the half-curse was little more than that, really. you had only come in contact with choso briefly, seeing him move through the halls of jujutsu tech in search of the very brother that recommended him to you. he was intimidating, tall and broad with a look of disinterest across his face every time you ran into him. yuji had told you that he wasn’t necessarily unfriendly, just unsure, so you were weary to approach him once he moved into the spare room. you didn’t want to overdo it, you would hate to make him uncomfortable with all these changes he was getting accustomed to. so for the first three months or so, you two would only exchange pleasantries and nod respectfully, two strangers sharing an address and lingering curious stares. then, one morning you offered to make him breakfast, and you two settled into a comfortable friendship after that. 

Nowadays, nearly a year later, the living area was actually used and shared. you watched recommended shows together, introduced each other to your favorite movies, and oftentimes just sat in each other’s presence on the couch; on your phones, playing nintendo switch games, or passing choso’s best attempt at a blunt between you while shit talking your neighbors with your legs in his lap. you even encouraged him to invest in a real gaming setup, where he plays a host of different games for hours while you sit contently in the bean bag chair stationed nearby in his room, reading or crafting or just watching from time to time. the more comfortable he became, the more fun he was to be around. he was no longer shy to ask you to sit with him while he plays or to inquire about your latest book and his smiles and conversations flowed more freely. 

he enjoys your presence. it’s easy to be around you. he wonders why. even with all the progress he had made with you, he was still terribly awkward around new people and his social battery was limited. he never got tired of hanging out with you though, in fact, he craves it always. yuji says that it’s because you’re pretty, which choso can’t disagree with, though his brother’s statement irritates him for no good reason. 

he finds himself wondering if his brother knows you the way he does, silly things about you like which animal crossing character you would reincarnate as or the fact you hate grape flavored anything—it all tastes like cough syrup!--he can hear you say. no, he gets to see the real you, the one you reserve just for him. so yuji can think you’re pretty all he wants, but he’s the one who gets to see your breathtaking smiles in reaction to something he said.

“bro?! still there–or are you too busy being jealous?” yuji snickers, relishing in the match he made. he knew choso would wake up with a babe like you walking around. 

“you’re a child. and a dick.” he huffs, aggravated by his spacey sibling’s acute sense of his feelings. “goodbye.” he taps to end their weekly gaming marathon facetime two hours short out of annoyance, confronted with the silence of his bedroom and his questioning thoughts about you. jealous? as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was. he couldn't even picture the thought of you being with someone else, try as he might. did that mean he wanted to be that person? your person? he’s so confused, but he knows even if he’s embarrassed he can talk to you about it. you could help him work through his feelings and come to a solution. even if the feelings were about you, he knows you would always be honest with him. he sighs, deciding to make his way to your room down the hall. 

you two didn’t spend a lot of time apart now that the bond had been created, and you were more than alright with that routine, because on fridays, choso holed up in his room for five straight hours to facetime yuji and play video games giving you some much needed time to yourself. you always started with a long and intricate shower, doing all your different exfoliants and masks. then you’d touch up your nails and give yourself a total spa treatment, finishing up by putting on your cutest little panties and releasing some of the pent up sexual frustration for your roommate that you keep under lock and key for the same reasons you were hesitant to cross into friendship territory all those months ago: you don’t want to scare him away. 

so you settle for your own small hands cupping your chest and pinching at your nipples, trying to picture him. It’s choso’s large and veiny hands that run down your sides and spread your legs instead of your own toying with your underwear. you can smell the versace eros cologne he wears wafting through your nose, almost able to hear his gravelly voice in your ear praising you for doing so good. it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to conjure the image of him sinking between your thighs, lust pooling in his violet eyes. you’re soaked already, feeling the fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt just at your active imagination. you peel them off, hissing as cold air blows across your middle, but your fingers quickly find the heat of your hole, gathering that natural lube to flick your clit with. your eyes are closed—whining helplessly already at the sensation you bring yourself with him in mind. it’s nowhere near the real deal, but the bliss is good enough to lull pants of his name from your mouth, body light as air.

choso doesn’t think anything of your closed door. you told him you keep it closed to let him have his space, not wanting him to feel like you’re watching or eavesdropping on him while he’s on the phone. especially as he got close enough to reach for your door handle, hearing you call his name. you sounded…strained? in all honesty he was worried. so he doesn’t hesitate to push the door open a bit, peeking to check. his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of you naked on your bed. you’re stunning. he’s seen pictures of other women—and yuji showed him a few websites—but your body was second to none. his hand flew to cover his immediate hard on, shocked you hadn’t noticed him yet. fuck, you are gorgeous, one hand squeezing at your breast, the other playing around in that squelching noise he hears between your legs. he fights the urge to moan aloud or announce his presence, and he’s ashamed of himself. he feels like he’s betraying your trust, but his dick keeps growing in his pants at the chants of his name spilling out of your lips. he watches as your legs jerk and your head falls back against your pillow, making him think you were almost done. he had to get out before you saw him or felt his unique energy so close to you. he’s panting as he shuts the door quietly, turning the knob just so it wouldn’t alert you. 

his dick hurts as he makes it just one room down—the bathroom. perfect. he turns the shower on immediately, stripping his clothes off like they were on fire. he had set out to talk to you, to be completely honest about the thoughts he had been having, but seeing you like that did things to him words could not. he’s been horny before, of course, and dealt with that the way single human men do. but this—the desire coursing through his veins—this was different. so different. everything was clear now, he needed you. he stands with his back under the water, whimpering as his dick throbs to the mental image of your glistening pussy and blissed out face. he can’t help but close his fist around the his wide shaft, stuttering out a sigh in relief. he strokes himself to the same rhythm you moved your fingers, imagining how that pace would feel with your wet and warm cunt hugging him in instead of the rough surface of his hand. his other hand keeps him braced on the shower wall, steadying him through the searing heat the promises of your touch seem to be; to think that you were calling for him, thinking of him in the way he thinks of you now felt like a dream. he had to be hearing things, that’s the only excuse the man can summon. water beads down his biceps and chest, and it just makes his dirty deed all that much more so, fucking into his fist until his load is running down the side of the tub, the pearly beads getting swept away in the water and carried down the drain. he tosses his head back in the shower stream, his long black strands sticking to his face and neck as he tries to rinse away his shame. 

that night, choso doesn’t come out of his room to watch a movie with you before bed. you pout, but try not to linger on it too long. maybe yuji took a lot out of him today, or they didn’t have a successful time on and he was moody. either way, you weren’t going to bother him. you hang out on the couch like usual with the hopes that he would emerge soon, but as your bedtime nears and everything remains still, you slink off to your room with a sour mood to end an otherwise normal day.

as the days pass, choso’s behavior gets weirder and weirder. it’s almost as if he’s completely reverted inside his shell he made when he moved in, only emerging to get food when he had hoped you weren’t around. the times in which he did inevitably run into you were dealt in nervous laughter and denials that anything was wrong with him. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was lying, hiding something from you even. you were slightly hurt that he didn’t trust you enough to talk to you, instead of going backwards and shutting you out. you wanted to wait it out, but as the days turned into a full week, you feared losing him altogether. 

you stewed over the situation the entire time you were at work. you couldn’t even get anything accomplished because you were too preoccupied wondering what you had done to wound your connection. spending your days alone was maddening. a little over a year ago, you would have relished in the peace and quiet, but now it was unwelcome. you only wanted quiet if it was filled with the subtle sounds of pages turning or the buttons of a controller smashing or shared breathing during the climax of a show. this was haunting, and you knew you had to do something. you left work early, faking a stomach ache in order to get home and corner choso into relenting. no more miss nice roommate. you were tired of letting him be all weird and distant. so you walked in unceremoniously, not necessarily out to scare him. you shake your sandals off by the door and walk towards his room, noting that his door was actually open for once. 

that was only because you weren’t supposed to be home for three and a half more hours, giving choso plenty of time to relive his dirty fantasies of you with the least amount of guilt possible, though he could barely look you in the eye these days. if you weren’t home, he could at least not worry about you catching him in his perverted acts, only dealing with the shame that flows in after he’s came for the millionth time to the image of your legs quivering and mouth parting in pleasure. he didn’t hear you sneak in–didn’t hear you shuffle down the hall to poke your head around the doorframe. he was dead to the outside world, his hips stuttering into his hand, thumb swiping the pre-cum that beaded there around his slit, stroking himself with whimpers of your name tumbling out, his eyes scrunched tight in concentration. 

your jaw was on the floor, never in a million years imagining that he even knew how to touch himself like that, not to mention the prayers of your name on his tongue, mirroring the ones you make for him on fridays. he was massive, it had you covering your mouth in shock. even with his huge hand, it seemed like pumping himself was a tall task. you couldn’t imagine trying to do it yourself, you’re not even sure two hands would do the trick— you must have gasped aloud or something, because suddenly his head snaps toward where you stand in the doorway. 

“y/n–you’re–” his dark eyes are wide, his lips parted in realization that you had really caught him jerking off and mewling your name like a helpless perv. as the guilt starts to creep in, the haze of need and desire clouds his mind. he never lets go of himself, all too aware of your lip between your teeth and your hardened nipples poking through your top—no, you shouldn’t be seeing this, you shouldn’t even be home yet! not to mention how ashamed you should be of your own roommate rutting into his hand.

“...i’m home.” you whisper back, a slight smirk creeping onto your face. despite the red blush spreading across his cheeks, he keeps fucking up into his hand. it’s salacious, and you can feel your body responding to the sight, unsurprisingly. you’ve been picturing him naked for months, and not even your lewd imagination gave him justice. every plane on his body was sculpted and defined, thick veins running down his arms and thighs and cock. he left his hair down, some of the strands tucked behind his ear, some of them hung over his brows and cheekbones. he gulped when he noticed your stare, your eyes locked on the thick cock in his hand, curved with an angry and needy tip. 

“y/n, i’m so so sorr–” he scrambles to sit up, the heavy reality finally sinking in. he was awful, sick in the head, you were going to have him pack his shit immediately, and he’d have to tell all his friends why you had gotten rid of him. 

“need some help?” you spit out, unable to tolerate the pounding in your chest and pussy. his eyes grow impossibly wider, blood rushing in his ears. did he understand you right? he couldn’t possibly. 

“wh-what?” he sputtered, sitting up slightly to try and hide himself from view a bit, as if you hadn’t seen every bit of him already. 

“i asked if you wanted my help. you were saying my name, weren’t you?” you tease gently, stepping further into his room, your hands innocently folded behind your back. now that you know your desire is shared, you felt confident enough to push your relationship further yet again. he nods hesitantly, watching you stalk over to the bed like a lioness about to pounce.

“i–yes, it’s not what you think. i know it looks–” 

“like you were jacking off and thinking about me? is that not…what you were doing?” you hum, pausing by the foot of his bed. you look so cute, he has to believe you know what you’re doing, folding your arms under your voluptuous chest just to taunt him a bit more. you have him backed into a corner, and he either had to admit the truth or come up with a very clever lie. and he is not a gifted liar. 

“i–yeah…” he looks away, feeling the shame weighing down on him now that you had confronted him with the undeniable truth. 

you chuckle warmly. “i do the same thing, ‘cept I’m thinking of you.” you shrug, the smirk growing on your face as realization seeps into his. he didn’t misunderstand you that day or even earlier in this conversation. you want him too. he swallows thickly again, remembering the day that started all of this. 

“i–i know, i saw you, last week.” he chokes out as you take your top off, revealing yourself to him. He’d noticed your lack of bra earlier, but didn’t expect to be blessed with the sight of your body again, especially as you bend at the hips to wiggle out of your pants. Your laughter surprises him again, like he had intentionally made a joke. but it was only because he had solved the mystery that led you to his room in the first place, and that would potentially resolve any secrets you had been keeping from one another. 

“so that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” you scrunch your nose at him adorably as you crawl onto the bed, his eyes glued to the body that had him locked in his bedroom day and night. “oh choso, i wish you would have interrupted me…i surely woulda let you help me.” you purr, so close to him that he could reach out and touch you now, and he definitely thinks about just grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, finally feeling that glistening pussy for himself—to hell with his imagination, but your voice interrupts his thoughts again. 

“so, do you want me to help you, baby?” you glance from the hard length in his hands to his deep purple eyes, swirling with something you recognize very well to be deep desire. 

“please–” he whimpered and let his hand fall away from his pelvis, looking to you like a pathetic boy getting his teenage dreams fulfilled. Your grin grows wide, and you lean closer to brush your hand across his toned abdomen. he lets out a pleased little grunt and his cock jumps at the simple touch

“you’ve never been with anyone, have you?” you asked, faces so close he can see every freckle and dimple and scar on your skin. he shakes his head. you peck the tip of his nose. he’s already shivering, the feeling of your body leaning over his was exhilarating. your kiss was so simple and sweet, but it stopped all the thoughts in his brain. he was just malleable now, ready to let you make him feel good, finally shifting from imagination to reality. “need you to talk to me, so i can know where you’re at, cho.” 

“no, no..never.” he shakes his head again, eying you with excitement and nerves all at once. he wants to touch you, and you’ve already stripped naked and kissed him, so surely there was no going back now, so he reaches up and places his hands on your hips—so light like he was afraid to hurt you. 

you grin at both his answer and his courageous touch, nodding your encouragement, “that’s fine, i’ll help you…just do what feels natural–you can go as hard as you want., and tell me if you want to stop.” your eyes blink at him sweet he realizes he would trust you with his life if you asked. 

“okay.” he lets your words wash over him, nodding as he grips your hips a little tighter. he’s more than embraced his fate, his mouth watering a bit at the idea that you were in his bed and offering to make all his fantasies come true. you were expecting him to keep that deer in a headlights look, but when you rake your fingernails across his chest, you watch his eyes darken a bit more. “kiss me?” 

choso looks so cute, you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to. his eyebrow raised with innocence, but his eyes shrouded in arousal. you giggle softly and lean up, sliding your hands over his pecs and shoulders and into those dark locks calling your name. you tug, and he gasps softly. you take that opportunity to cover his parted lips with your own, his head falling back to accommodate you as you fully crawl into his lap. he melts, you feel and taste so impossibly good he’s concerned he may bust over the kiss. your tongue moves so expertly against his, twirling around and sucking on the muscle in a way he didn’t know people employed. then you’re sitting on his abs, and he can feel so much at once. his eyes blow wide in the kiss, and he has to pull away to gasp again and see what you’re doing to him. 

you’re simply sitting, your pretty shining pussy rubbing against his core and his dick teasing the crack of your ass. that must be what’s driving him insane, the warmth and softness providing some but not enough friction. you wiggle your ass a bit to tease him, and he whimpers. the sound is so sweet and low you know you can’t handle playing with the shy little virgin much longer.

“i–is th–that sup’posed to f-feel that go–ngh, good?” he stammers, the hold on your hips bordering bruising. he doesn’t even realize, and you certainly don’t mind, so you only smile and nod down at him, reaching for his chin with your fingers. he makes you look so small without even trying, the broad expanse of his body, wide jaw and thick legs—not to mention the monstrous cock rocking against your behind, your own need soaking his happy trail to the skin beneath. you move his gaze from your sensual movements back to your sultry gaze. yuji was wrong. pretty was such a mild way to describe the woman on his lap. you were more a kin to a goddess, something not fully human like him. 

“i was hoping to give you the full treatment, but i don’t think you’ll mind if i skip to the main event?” you bite your lip, your other hand scraping at his scalp a little bit. no, of course he didn’t mind. sometimes you were so silly. he nods fervently, remembering that he needed to find his voice, to not seem like such a coward when he wanted this so badly. 

“no—please,” he whimpers again, feeling the drip of your liquid on him. it dawns on him then that you’re just as needy, and you still wanted him even though you’d have to teach him what to do. you didn’t seem worried, maybe it was easier than he thought. but all he knows is that his balls are starting to hurt and he had never felt more buzzed in his entire life, sensitive to every move you make. “i need you so bad, oh sh–” 

you scoot back, lifting yourself up a little to align him with your entrance. his whimpers and begs were so fucking amazing, you wish you had it in you to milk it. you make the mental note to keep him begging when you show him what it feels like to have his dick sucked or whimpering when he eats your cunt for the first time. he’s so heavy in your hand, and you can’t even close your fist around him. it makes you shudder, knowing that you’re going to make him fit inside you no matter the stretch. his tip was so red and irritated, oozing pre. you swiped it over his head, humming in amusement as he jerks and whines at the feeling. 

“you’re massive, d’you know that?” you pout, sinking down a few inches. he moans at first, feeling like his cock was fit into a perfect sleeve. it’s unreal, the heat he feels in his gut as you rock further down on him, whining at how huge he was. he watches the pained faces you make halfway down, the concern clear on his face. he didn’t know he was that big—he hadn’t really been comparing, but if it was hurting you, he wondered what he could do. he remembers watching you play with that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs, using your own slick to glide around. he thinks he could replicate that, so he sticks his fingers in his mouth, spitting a bit to make sure they were just as wet as you were. you take more of him, almost to his base all while panting and bracing yourself on his chest with your eyes screwed shut. he reaches toward you, swiping his fingers around the place he watched you toy with. you gasp out and sit all the way down, the noises you make as he touches you make his eyes widen again. 

“god—i’m so full, baby.” you nod, your hips moving forward automatically, searching for more of that searing feeling he brings to your clit. he surprises you, moving his digits in slow circles as you get accustomed to his size. he chokes slightly when you squeeze him, his eyes zeroed in on your face. 

“are you alright?” he asks softly, feeling your nails dig into his chest as your hips move faster now, any other words he had wanted to say sucked from his brain like he had no thoughts at all, nothing other than that vice-grip of a pussy you have locked around him, bouncing softly and leaving little half-moons in his skin. 

“mhm, just had to stretch a bit t’fit you, are you alright?” you grin as you ask, knowing he would struggle to respond—in the best way possible. he nods eagerly, eyes flickering from where you swallow him up to your soft face of bliss. 

“are you kidding? i’m—” you rock on him a bit faster, the feeling of wet and choking walls rubbing every possible spot had him sputtering, unable to speak. he’s only able to watch you run a hand through your mane, keeping it out of your face and away from your bouncing tits. he’s in heaven. being with a woman, no, being with you, was as all the eternal bliss he cared to know. 

his hips start to move, the hold he has on your hips trailing up to the curves of your waist to better hold you down. he didn’t realize how much more intense he would make this feel for the both of you, grunts and whines spilling from his lips as you begin to cry out and yell. it’s heavenly, the way you let him drive into you, leaning forward with one hand on the headboard and the other tugging his head towards your chest. he contains his pathetic pants by sucking your nipple in his mouth, laving his tongue over it, mind so drunk and hazy he can only be driven by his primal instincts, flat footed on the bed to plow into you from below. 

it’s so perfect. you scream his name way better than he ever imagined, and he doesn’t mind to bear the scratch marks of your passion. you keep squeezing around him, and it drives him crazy. 

“i–i love when you do that—clenching down on me like that, fuck.” He grunts, slowly getting his knees under him while you sloppily keep the pace. he uses the leverage to ease you to your back, though you don’t have the luxury of pillows or a headboard, only the mattress beneath you as choso realizes this positioning lets him piston his hips without you having to do any work at all. you’re wailing, nodding to keep him from worrying about you as you continuously claw at his back and shoulders. 

“choso baby—” you whine in such a way, he knows he’s going to bust in seconds. “you’re gonna make me cum, please–doin’ so good, ngh—ack!” you cry, legs tightening around his waist as he feels a significant increase of your fluids. feeling and watching you cum by his doing was the nail in the coffin—the way your face screwed up in pure pleasure brought him his own, his pelvis stilling against the mounds of your backside, cock twitching against your womb before your vision is blurry, and all you feel is warmth seeping out of you. his load leaked out around him inside you, his cock still pulsating with no signs of dying down. 

he smiles at you a little shyly, his cheeks rosy and eyes hazy with the aftershocks of such a gripping orgasm. he watches your chest heave as you calm down, your eyes fluttering open and a smile spreading across your face as you look up at him. 

“what do i do now? to take care of you?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the creases where your thighs meet your hips. you giggle and shake your head, knowing it would take multiple rounds for his erection to die down. 

“i show you the full treatment now, baby.” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows. 

choso found himself immersed in exploring himself and your body, discovering several new kinks to enjoy with his sweet little roommate turned lover.

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

the next few weeks seemed to pass by in a blur and before you knew it you'd blinked and it was the end of the month already.

you and alessia went from only texting when you needed something to texting every day, and then calling most nights if you weren't together, speaking about everything and nothing for hours, stomachs often aching from how hard you'd make one another laugh.

you appreciated the way she seemed genuinely interested in your job, asking questions and listening along intently as you recounted your days.

it surprised you to learn that if she wasn't a footballer she might have pursued teaching, though some of the horror stories you'd spun her about your time at uni and on placement steered her well away from that.

your heart warmed seeing how good she was with the kids when she did the friday football program, well all of the arsenal girls were, and with the program a raging success an agreement had been made between the arsenal academy and the school to offer discounted holiday programs for during the break.

you'd gone to see every single one of her games since the last, alessia's heart bursting to see you sat up with her family every weekend with her jersey on and her last name across your shoulders cheering her on just like old times.

and you were even learning to actually enjoy the game, though thats not to say you still wouldn't groan and complain when alessia would flick on a premier league game to watch after dinner occasionally.

her brothers had relentlessly teased her for it but she brushed them off, trying not to take to heart the jokes that if she didn't lock you down soon someone else might beat her to it.

neither of you had dared to broach that conversation just yet.

her mum was thrilled to see how close the two of you had become again, her parents picking you up most games or taking you out for a drink with them all beforehand, and always inviting you to family dinners afterwards.

and in turn your own mum insisted on both of your families coming together again like old times, and it filled you with joy to see how much time she spent with carol once more.

with the short distance between both of your apartments it seemed to become a routine of sorts that every couple of days one of you would drop by to see the other.

nights were spent taking turns cooking for one another, watching movies or sometimes just talking for hours until you'd both realise the time and need to hurry back home.

alessia had been wanting to ask you to stay the night for a little while now, but not wanting to push things too early on and just enjoying your company in anyway she could she'd hold her tongue every time you'd start to pack your things back up to leave.

but you'd always be sure to walk one another home which inevitably ended in the two of you kissing goodnight, and unbeknownst to alessia every single time you did you had to hold your own tongue not to ask her to stay.

you were yet to put a label on anything, and most of your 'dates' seemed to consist of cosy nights in, nothing super fancy or high maintenance.

you'd not clocked any sort of issue with it either, having known the girl for years it seemed almost silly to even feel the need to go out, much preferring how comfortable the two of you were around one another now you were both clearly trying to get things back on track.

well you didn't see an issue, not until rory opened her mouth one afternoon.

"wait you've not gone out? watching movies together or cooking dinner isn't a date!" your best friend rolled her eyes from where she lounged on your bed, having come over to help you with your quarterly closet clean out.

"anything can be a date if its with the right person!" you argued, holding up a dress to your body as her eyes narrowed and she pointed to the keep pile. "maybe once you're actually dating, but last time i checked the two of you were still dancing around that big question!" you blushed a little at her words and threw a cardigan at her.

"oh this is cute! can i have this?" you chuckled but nodded as she dropped it into the 'rory' pile which you knew was mainly the only reason she'd offered her 'help'.

"but anyway. if its classed as a 'date' it needs to be a bit more than just the two of you lounging about one of your apartments, thats just hanging out and one could argue that would be something strictly platonic!" rory pointed as you sighed at her dramatics.

"we make out, thats not platonic." you shot back with a glare as she ooohed. "and do you braid each others hair and swap secrets too?" the girl cooed as you threw a heel at her head causing her to shriek.

"sorry ro and how many relationships have you been in? oh just one? shut up!" you flipped her off and turned back to your clothes. "okay if anything its because i am in a long term committed happy and healthy relationship i can call this behavior out." rory started, pushing herself to sit up more.

"the two of you are acting like a) just best friends hanging out, or b) an old married couple. neither of which i know you want to be! you're both in your early twenties you should be going out and spending time together doing fun stuff! not curled up watching the same movies you've loved since you were teenagers. at least go to the cinema and see something so you leave the house!" rory tossed a pillow at you which you side stepped.

"so what i should ask her out to do something then?" you asked with a small frown, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, which was actually alessia's hoodie. "yes! do exactly that. not that i can really blame you for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her but theres loads of stuff you can do to get around that." rory shrugged.

"what do you mean you can't blame me for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her?" you questioned with an air of confusion. "well because she's a fucking celebrity you head case!" rory laughed at you.

that took you off guard as you paused your sorting, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed with a frown. "well shes not really a celebrity, shes not like an actor or anything." you challenged more so for your own sake.

"please! elite athletes can be just as famous as actors or singers or whatever, if anything even more so because they're more relatable to the general public. for god sakes she's won the euros and made the finals of a world cup you idiot!" another pillow smacked you in the side of the head as you shot the girl a glare.

"she also does sponsorships, ads, she's a branded athlete with adidas, she has a management agency, she's on a professional contract with a huge salary no doubt, and she plays on a global stage for fucking england!" rory ticked off on her fingers with a scoff.

"well yeah but-" you fell quiet at that, head ticking over as it dawned on you that rory was right. "come on just look at her instagram! as if you don't notice the thousands of people obsessing over her." rory chuckled pulling out her phone.

"i hardly use it! case in point you have to text me to like your posts." you rolled your eyes as rory moved to lay down shoving her phone in your face.

"see? she's got like nearly a million followers and look at how many people interact with her posts. she probably gets like a hundrd dm's a day of randoms asking her out, maybe even from other celebrities!" rory laughed nudging her shoulder into you.

"see she met david fucking beckham and it looks like he's the fan in the picture!" rory gasped clicking into one of alessia's more recent posts.

you knew rory didn't mean anything bad by all of this but as you scrolled through the hundreds on hundreds of comments on alessia's posts you chest tightened with an uncomfortable anxiety you'd not felt before.

"god and then theres tiktok and twitter and whatever else. i liked one video about less and it took me days to get rid of the edits of her on my feed." rory shook her head with a grin, grabbing back her phone off you and switching apps.

"see?" she searched up alessias name on tiktok and your eyes widened even further as she scrolled through the hundreds of edits. "jesus christ she is a celebrity." you exhaled, pushing rorys phone away and collapsing onto your back, moving so your head rested on your best friends thigh.

"well duh, what did you think? she's that same little ten year old playing for the school team with all the boys?" "no! i hadn't really thought about it is all. to me she's just...well she's just alessia."

"and that is very sweet of you but also very naive. i don't know how i'd cope if jack was getting that many girls in his comments, thank god he's just a measly banker." rory joked but at her teasing words you felt a stabbing sensation at your chest.

"but hey what have you got to worry about? all they can do is wish, you've already got the girl." rory shrugged tapping on your forehead as you simply hummed, caught up in your head.

did you have nothing to worry about?

~

you looked up from the pan of vegetables you were frying off hearing a knock at your door, lowering the heat and quickly washing your hands.

"hi lessi." you greeted the blonde as you pulled open the door, stepping aside as she hurried in, the weather below zero this week as she shivered.

"hello, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." alessia sighed happily, your lips meeting sweetly as she pulled your body into hers. "mm no one more." the blonde grinned pecking your lips a few more times making you smile.

"dinners almost done. how was training?" you left her to unravel herself from her many layers as you returned to the kitchen, hearing her join you shortly after.

"this morning? yeah it was good! nutmegged leah like ten times, she was fuming." alessia grinned taking a seat at the bench. "thats when you kick it through someones legs right?" you asked, moving the sauce off the heat.

"sure is, look whose learning. maybe we can get you into a sunday league team next!" alessia winked teasingly as you playfully rolled your eyes. "yeah you'd love that wouldn't you." you grabbed her out a bottle of water from the fridge.

"then i had a shoot this afternoon for adidas, that was fun. i just get awkward in front of the camera but the photographer was really nice!" alessia shrugged casually, taking a long swig of water as you hummed, that weird feeling from yesterday returning as you tried to push it away.

"one to ten, how hungry?" you questioned, two bowls in front of you as you grabbed the rice, having made a stir fry.

"mmm like a six? had a late lunch, some meeting with some magazine about some article. luca said we probably won't go forward with it, they've got a reputation for twisting peoples words to create drama that isn't there." alessia recounted as you again only hummed, a slight frown on your face as you dished up.

"thank you gorgeous." the taller girl leaned in to kiss you in appreciation as you handed her the bowl, eyebrows furrowing a little as you turned your head so her lips met your cheek instead.

brushing it off assuming you were probably just tired after a long week she followed after you into the living room. "no!" you warned as she went to sit on the lounge, lowering herself instead to the floor with a roll of her eyes.

"it was one time." the blonde huffed with a pout as you handed her a small handful of napkins, having knocked over a bowl of soup all over your lounge last week. "one time was enough." you smiled taking a seat beside her.

"get a dining table then and we wouldn't have this problem." alessia pinched your cheek as you mocked her and flicked on the tv. "less!" you complained as she plucked the remote from your fingers, flipping channels.

"nooo." you groaned in realization as she put on a mens game, manchester united playing against some other team you didn't know, only recognising the familiar uniform of the russo's childhood team.

"yesss." alessia mocked happily, sighing as she placed a mouthful of stir fry in. "this is really really good, thank you baby." the girl kissed your cheek again as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you ate.

it was during this time that alessia picked up maybe there was something going on with you. normally you'd spend the entire game either making comments, asking questions, complaining about how long halves were or teasing her for 'yelling at the players like they can hear you'.

but long after the two of you had finished eating you were still quiet, eyes not even on the tv as you seemed a little lost in your own world. "hey." you snapped out of it as a warm hand squeezed your knee, looking up into a pair of concerned bright blue orbs.

"you alright?" alessia asked, hand still on your knee as you nodded. "i'm fine babe." you forced a tight lipped smile, gently pushing off her hand and grabbing your empty bowls. alessia watched you go with a frown, now almost certain something was going on for you.

initially she didn't want to force it out of you, but as you both sat up on the sofa now and you subtly shuffled a little further away from her alessia couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"you don't want to finish it? they're up by two!" you frowned at her as she turned the tv off, turning her body to face you. "i know you said you're fine, but i can tell somethings up." alessia started, reaching out for you as you flinched away.

"see! have i done something?" the girl asked as worry flashed across her face and you shook your head. "no no its just-" you struggled to get out your words, groaning and dragging your hands down your face.

"fucking rory." you muttered cursing out your best friend for causing this swirling sea of doubt in your mind. "you're fucking rory?" alessia misunderstood, pulling her hands back with a frown as again you shook your head.

"no! god no, disgusting." you pulled a face of disgust as alessia breathed out in relief. "its not something you've done, well not...directly?" you winced as the frown returned to the strikers face. "i don't understand."

"okay, well can i ask you something?" "of course." "do you consider yourself a celebrity?"

"thats...a loaded question." alessia exhaled as she thought it over. "i don't personally think about myself in that way but i can see why i'd be perceived that way." alessia answered after a moment to contemplate.

"but why do you ask?" alessia asked both concerned and curious as to where this was coming from. "its stupid." you huffed, falling down onto your back as alessia grabbed your ankles, pulling your legs to rest over your lap, relaxing when you made no move to pull away.

"if its bothering you its not stupid, please." the striker requested softly as you sighed. "well rory was talking to me about how its weird we don't ever go out on dates, and then she made some comment about understanding why i wouldn't want to because you're a celebrity." you paused as alessia nodded for you to continue.

"then she showed me your instagram and tiktok and there was just so many comments and i promise i don't dismiss any of your achievements but i guess i never really took a moment to realise just how many other people appreciated them too." you frowned as everything rolled through your mind.

"see! its stupid. of course you're going to get thousands of comments and fans and edits, you're an international football superstar." you threw your hands up, cheeks burning up a little.

"you jealous of all the fangirls love?" alessia teased as insecurity flashed across your face and she quickly realised that was the wrong thing to say.

"hey no i'm sorry, look at me." soft hands grabbed yours and tugged you to sit up. "first of all, its not stupid." alessia promised sincerely, eyes not leaving yours.

"but it is something we have to speak about, and probably should have already spoken about." alessia sighed in realisation, taking your hands into hers again. "social media is...complicated. people think they know me or i owe them something just because im a public figure." alessia started with a frown.

"every little thing i post gets picked apart whether its of me, a holiday, a place, a friend, my family, anything. people find out which cafes i go to for coffee and show up there hoping to see me, follow me to restaurants when i post im out eating with friends, take sneaky videos when im out in public and post them. it can get very invasive and a lot of people have no concept of privacy or boundaries!" alessia warned as you nodded slowly.

"so i guess if we..." alessia gestured between the two of you with a wince as you nodded to show you understood what she was saying. "...then thats something you'll have to know is there. its not going away, if anything the more tournaments i play in, ads i do, sponsors i get, interviews, articles, club trophies, the attention and the fans and the eyes will grow." alessia spoke firmly, still keeping a hold on your hands.

"but i'm not trying to scare you, i just need you to know that its there. i would always do my best to protect you but some things are out of my hands and out of my control, i can't stop what people think, post, say, much as i wish i could." alessia sighed, bringing your hand up to her mouth to kiss your palm.

"please say something." alessia laughed but it was clearly full of nerves, her face falling as you gently pulled your hands out of hers. "its just, this is all very new. i know you're still you, but i guess the thought of having thousands of people all watching everything you do and picking it apart or obsessing over you and wanting you in comments is overwhelming." you admitted, biting your bottom lip as alessia nodded.

"i know. it overwhelms me too but i promise like you said i'm still me, none of this changes that. and if anything ever bothers you like this please just come talk to me about it, i will always listen." alessia promised, relief flooding her body as took her hands again.

"thank you. i'm sorry for being a downer!" you smiled apologetically as the blonde hurriedly shook her head. "never. but you also did raise another very good point!" alessia started as you tilted your head curiously.

"as much as i love our dinners and movies, we've not really been out on a proper date. so can i please take you out on friday night? i'll be at the school for the program anyway so we could go out right after or we could come back and get ready or we could-" you cut her off as you pressed your lips to hers, silencing her worried rambles.

"i'd love to go out on friday lessi."

~

"someones popular today." you bumped your shoulder into alessias as she broke away from your students who'd been clinging to her all afternoon, leah now running a game as she started to break them up into smaller groups.

"i like kids but i do not know how you deal with all the questions! an angel of patience." alessia sighed bumping you back with a smile. "just an angel in general." you teased, catching the girls eyes quickly flicker down to your lips momentarily.

"excuse me miss russo we are in a professional environment, behave yourself." you warned, kissing her cheek quickly when no one was looking and walking off to calm a small argument which had broken out over team names.

"saw that russo." the smile couldn't even be wiped off alessia's face at katies teasing, the irishwoman standing where you previously had as she poked and prodded at the younger girl.

"so when are you bringing your girlfriend to a team night out then?" katie sung out with a grin. "she's not my girlfriend." alessia sighed, smile dropping as katie frowned. "oh, well no one to blame but yourself there. i see the way she looks at you! smitten." the girl clapped her on the back.

"i want to its just, we've got a complicated history." alessia mumbled with a frown. "ah! who doesn't. all ya can do is not repeat past mistakes. i know none of my exes would turn up to a bar to come pick me up wasted out of nowhere!" katie reminded as alessia winced recalling that night.

"god don't remind me, never again." alessia exhaled with a shake of her head. "well then get your girl russo! you'll never know until ya ask." katie shrugged.

"we're going out tonight, i'm gonna take her to that little darts bar its pretty quiet and i think i freaked her out the other day with the whole thousands of fans thing." alessia then explained the conversation you'd had.

"mm yeah, not something i can offer ya any advice on there less. i've always dated the famous ones!" katie winked jokingly, jogging off as the whistle blew.

"did i hear darts bar tonight? i'll tell the girls!" alessia's head whipped around as beth stood behind her, racing off toward leah before alessia could say another word, the girl throwing her head back with a groan.

"alessia! you're on our team!" she was snapped out of it by small hands gripping at her shorts and shirt, tugging her onto the field as she met your eyes on the other side of the oval, a smile sent her way before you returned to your conversation with your coworker.

it wasn't for another hour that alessia was finally able to track you down alone again, and by this time beth had spread the word and the plan was made, far too late for alessia to say a word as katie gave her a sympathetic look.

"hey! can we talk for a second?" you looked up from speaking with chloe, wishing her a good weekend as she walked off and you nodded, gesturing for her to follow after you back into your classroom.

"did you drive here?" you asked as alessia took a seat on top of one of the desks as you started to pack up yours. "no leah gave me a lift."

"perfect, i'll drop you home and then we can get ready separately. i assume you'll want to drive tonight though?" you smiled teasingly, it being no surprise that alessia preferred to be the driver of the two of you.

"look about tonight-" alessia started, watching as you paused, worry flashing across your face for a moment. "i'm not cancelling." the blonde was quick to assure you as you visibly relaxed a litte.

"we just might need to change the plan? beth kind of overheard me talking to katie about it and then assumed it was a group thing and invited a bunch of the girls and its hardly a date if my entire team is there too and-" alessia started to ramble.

"less!" you cut her off as her face blushed red. "i don't mind if the others are there, really. i know you were excited to show me this place, maybe we could just get dinner somewhere else together and then meet them there later?" you suggested as her face lit up.

"yes! god your mind is brilliant." the striker pushed herself up off the desk, her body suddenly pressing yours against your own desk. "well they don't just pay me for my good looks here." you teased, again catching her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we're still in a professional environment." alessia stated as if to remind herself more than you. "mm i guess i'm off the clock now, its after four." you grinned, hands falling to clasp either side of her face.

"you know i never thought i'd be kissing a teacher in a classroom." alessia tutted, lips curling into a smile as you let out a laugh. "didn't realise this was something you were into? didn't peg you as someone with a teacher kink." you teased, closing the gap between the two of you.

"only if the teacher is you." alessia mumbled against your lips, hands squeezing your hips as you let out a small laugh, pulling away and hugging her tightly, chin resting on her shoulder.

"i'm gonna miss when this program is over. next term its dancing instead of football!" you groaned quietly, feeling her body vibrate with laughter against yours.

"are you trying to dance with me right now?" you laughed as she started to sway the two of you back and forth. "yeah can't you hear the music? would be rude not to." alessia accused sarcastically, pulling you forward a little and taking your hand.

"i seem to remember you used to be a terrible dancer, two left feet." you grinned as she adjusted your hands, one interlocking with hers as the other rested on your hip, yours on the small of her back.

"hey thats not true!" alessia huffed, eyebrows furrowing in offence. "yes it was, remember when you tried to learn the tango to win a bet and-" you were cut off as her lips pressed against yours again. "we promised never to speak of that again." the girl warned mid kiss, starting to dance with you again.

"oh less!" you winced as suddenly she stepped on your foot, eyes widening as she let go of you and stepped back, but her foot catching on the desk she went flying to the ground.

like a domino effect as her body smacked into one of the desks it toppled over, taking down the entire row as alessia winced each time one hit the ground. a moment of silence passed before your body dropped down to the floor, clutching your stomach as waves of laughter ran through you.

"its not funny!" alessia groaned, though after a moment even she couldn't hold back her laughter, the two of you eventually laid down on the floor unable to stop, wiping away small tears which formed as you tried to calm down.

"oh wow, did your students do that?" alessia gasped as she looked up and saw the galaxy of stars all over the roof once the two of you finally calmed a little.

"no i did, makes it way easier to get them to calm down after lunch sometimes. i turn all the lights off and draw the blinds, then i get them all to pick a star and stand under it, close their eyes count to ten and make a wish for the future. works nearly every time!" you smiled fondly, alessia stealing a glance at you.

"its cool the school lets you decorate like this, i wish our classrooms were this colourful and lively. i might have actually paid attention!" alessia shrugged as you kicked her gently. "you did pay attention, just to my work so you could copy off of it." you poked her with a smirk.

"they give us some freedom just no budget, almost all of this is self funded." you explained as alessia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wait really?"

"yeah, a lot of the stuff needed to actually run a cohesive program isn't deemed as so. like name tags, the reading books, plants, most of the stationary, the posters, all bought by me. then activities like when we have snacks on movie days, end of term pizza parties, none of thats covered by the department either." you shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"wait so you personally buy all that stuff?" alessia asked in disbelief as you nodded. "well yeah, just because the department doesn't think these kids need this stuff doesn't mean they don't deserve it. a public school education shouldn't set them back on resources and opportunities compared to a private one just because of money, i like to think im doing my bit to mend the gap when i can." you looked back up to the ceiling with a smile.

"what was that for?" you laughed as alessia quickly pecked your lips. "because teachers deserve more money. but i can't help that so i figured a kiss was the next best thing!" alessia grinned cheekily as you grabbed her shirt, pulling her mouth back to meet yours again.

though as she pushed herself up and moved to hover over you, you leapt away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

but both of you sighed in relief as you realised it was only leah who stood with a smirk and a bunch of flowers in her hand. "sorry to interrupt. but less left these in my car and i wouldn't want to steal them from their rightful recipient." leah spoke as the striker hurried to her feet.

a silent conversation seeming to be had between the two blondes through a series of facial expressions alessia accepted the flowers and leah sent you a smile before leaving, closing the door after her.

"for you." alessia blushed bright red as you stood, accepting them with your own cheeks tinted rosy pink. "they're beautiful." you swooned, placing them on your desk and pulling her into a tight hug.

"well beautiful girls deserve beautiful things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fourteen

[junesilk]

HIII omg ive been looking for a hxh blog for a WHILE there’s barely any that’s very active😭😭okok so since i’m a kurapika simp could you write headcanons and IF YOU WANTT, a mini scenario of jealous kurapika? hmm if you want an idea it could be smth like the reader has a guy bsf and kura got jealous from the lack of attention :(( THANK YOUU!

JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!

hxh main 4 x fem!reader

characters included: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

i absolutely will, i have always loved jealousy prompts!! i’ve got several of these asks so far, so i’ll just kill multiple birds with one stone and go ahead and put them all together into a list of headcanons

not beta read ☝️

kurapika—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be quiet in the moment, withdrawing himself from the conversation while staying by your side.

You most likely wouldn’t notice it right away because he is naturally a quiet person—

The most he would do is send a glare at the man taking all of your attention away, but other than that he’d avoid conflict.

As soon as you two were alone in a private setting, he would be much more clingy than usual

Which, in of itself would be unusual, as he’s not the type to be so physically attatched.

Perhaps it was his more possessive side coming out to play, but it certainly was new.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

He’d know. Out of all of the main four, he’d pick it up fastest.

If the conversation wasn’t important, he’d find a way to end it quickly, to save you the jealousy.

If it is, he probably wouldn’t speed through it quite as much, but he’d place his hand on the small of your back,

His little way of assuring you he’s all yours.

He’d bring it up once you were alone, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

leorio—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

You’d feel his hand slide around your waist, looking up to see him staring at the other person

It was weird, you’d never seen him like… this!

If he was actively speaking in the conversation, every sentence referring to you would include some form of a pet name.

You could’ve sworn he said the words honey & babe at LEAST seven times

Once at home, he’d remind you who you loved most, pressing kisses to your flushed face.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

Oh boy.

He’d be so proud, honestly. You loved him enough to be jealous? Heart melted.

You’d take his hand, tightly pressing your palms together and squeezing.

It’d take him a while to realize you’d been giving the other girl nasty looks for a few minutes, but once he did, he chuckled.

He’d make an excuse, wave goodbye to the poor girl, and then turn his attention to you.

“Woah, babe. If looks could kill..” He’d joke about it for a while, but in the end, he’d assure you there’s nobody he loves more.

killua—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be extremely mean. Not to you, but to the man you were speaking to.

Killua is naturally really sarcastic, but he takes it to a whole other level.

Scoffing whenever the man made a joke, crossing his arms and looking away when you laugh.

He might use his assassin lineage to scare the other man away, but it’s rare he would need it.

He’s scary enough.

After freaking out the other man to the point where he’d left, he’d flick your forehead and roll his eyes. “That guy was looking at you weird!”

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

You wouldn’t know that he knew.

Not until the day afterwards, when there’s a chocolate robot laying beside your head when you wake up.

It’s his way for apologizing, or just letting you know that he did, in fact, know you were jealous

When asked, he’d shrug it off.

gon—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

Gon’s not the type of person to get jealous.

He simply just doesn’t. It’s not because he doesn’t care for you or anything.

It’s because he’s too busy becoming friends with the new person!

Sure, he may pout if he’s not very interested in the conversation being held, but that’s the most he’d do.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

We’ve all seen the movie.

Gon is oblivious, and remains to be that way unless you flat out tell him.

Feels bad for not realizing it earlier, but once told he tries his best to make it up to you.

He’d take you out on a date the next day, perhaps a picnic or something out in nature.

You can’t stay mad at him. After all, he just doesn’t pick up on these kinds of things very fast.

i hate how this got progressively shorter…… but wtv!!!

[astrxq]

Cosmic feelings

ethan landry x fem!reader

words: 3.2k

notes: idk if i like this 😭 not proofread so there might be some mistakes <3

Here's the corrected version of the text with grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary improvements:

There was no one in the world as oblivious as Ethan Landry when it came to girls. Seeing his roommate Chad get flooded with girls crushing on him really made him question whether he should step out of his shell or rather stay in it to save himself from the embarrassment of rejection. He was an attractive guy, at least that's what Chad kept reminding him, but he was such a mess when he had to strike up a conversation.

He'd tried once with you, the girl sitting next to him in economics, but you were so pretty to him that he ended up blabbering out that he needed to borrow a pen, when his purpose was to ask how your day had been. You were sweet, though; you offered him a small smile and the pen even though he had one sitting right next to his notebook. You didn't question it.

He tried not to overthink the small interaction, but he felt like some kind of force from the universe hated him because ever since that day, he'd been seeing you everywhere. Talking to his roommate, outside of campus, at the movies, the park—everywhere he went, he seemed to bump into you. You'd usually offer him a smile and a small wave, and he'd return it, trying to avoid Chad seeing him, because he knew he'd get made fun of if he was caught blushing because of a simple wave.

You had tried to make it obvious that you wanted to talk to him. It seemed odd how a boy so gorgeous could be looked past by so many people. He'd caught your eye the moment he sat next to you. He didn't even look your way at first, but as the teacher explained, you could feel him glance. It was adorable how he'd scratch the back of his head when he was solving a problem on his impressively neat notebook or when he bit his nails awaiting the teacher to notice he was having trouble with something he'd just explained.

Ethan wasn't dumb; everyone knew he was one of the few who understood economics. So when you reached out to the professor about needing tutoring, his name was quickly brought up. "Mr. Landry could help; you'd have to ask him, but I assume that will not be an issue as you already sit together in my classes."

Well, that wasn't as easy as the professor had made it sound. Four months into the year and only one conversation was had where he looked like he so badly wanted to stand up and run out before you even handed the pen to him. He was a fast walker, you realized, catching up to him as he made his way out of the building while keeping his head down looking at his phone and his free hand holding onto a strap of his backpack. "Ethan!" you called.

Once he heard his name from such an unfamiliar voice, he turned around, his backpack colliding with your cheek as he faced you. "Shit! I'm so sorry; I didn't see you. Are you okay?" he rambled, his cheeks going into a deep shade of red as he examined your face with a panicked look while you rubbed at your cheek. "I'm okay, I'm okay."

"Mr. Thompson told me to ask you for help in economics; I'm not really getting the hang of it."

His mouth twitched, and you weren't sure if it meant that he almost smiled or that he was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of tutoring. "You don't have to, of course. But since we sit together in class already…" He kept quiet, staring.

"Okay, I take that as a no. I'll ask someone else then. Thank you anyway," you smiled sweetly at him as you made a move to turn back, but his hand stopped you by grabbing your wrist and turning you around gently. "Sorry—yes. Yes, I'll tutor you." The blush on his cheeks had gone away a little, and the few freckles on his face stood out as you beamed at him with a grin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He took your excitement as a huge step in his 'try to get closer to Y/N' plan that, well, wasn't really his plan; it was his roommate's. "When's the best for you?" he asked. You shrugged and fixed the strap of the bag that had slipped off of your shoulder. "I'm free most of the time, so whenever works for you is great."

He took a moment before nodding and checking his phone and looking back up to you. "Well, Chad isn't in our dorm; if you want to come by now, I could explain today's lesson, and we can get to the rest once I sort out my notes," Ethan offered, surprised at himself for inviting a girl to be alone with him in his own dorm room.

You found his nervousness endearing. On the way to the dorms, he'd kept glancing down at you as if he were making sure you were still there, and his hands were a little shaky as he tried to get his keys from his jean pockets. "It's a bit messy, I'm sorry," he looked embarrassed and he moved a few sweaters from his desk chair to the mattress. "You can sit here; do you want something to drink?" The boy pointed at the small fridge that sat across the room, and you shook your head before sitting where he'd just signaled.

Eventually, Chad came back into the dorm, and after a few teasing looks from him to Ethan, you took that as your cue to leave. "Thanks for explaining it to me, Ethan," you made a move to stand up, and he mirrored you, standing at the same time. "You're leaving?"

"Well… I assumed we were done," you pointed at his now closed notebook, and he nodded twice before meeting your eyes. "Yes. Yeah—that's everything that was explained today." He had gone back to the nervous, shaky self he had been at the start of the afternoon, and you couldn't help but wonder why his demeanor had changed so quickly. He'd eased up during the tutoring, and he seemed far more comfortable by then.

"Do you need me to walk you? It's kind of late," he suggested, and even though you'd wished for nothing else but to spend more time with him, you shook your head with a smile. "I'll be okay; thanks for today, though. I owe you." Ethan seemed to shy away as he offered a smile and reached his hand up as if he were to wave but stopped. "I'll let you know when I have my notes sorted so we can do this again."

He widened his eyes a bit at his own words and quickly covered, "-if you want." Looking up at him sweetly, you nodded and made your way out of the dorm room with a grin plastered on your face. Who knew he could be so adorable?

Weeks went by, and Ethan had gotten more and more comfortable around you. He'd look for you in hallways and even came up to you when you were with your friends or he was with his. His roommate, Chad, had stopped not being around during your tutoring lessons so you couldn't really get there yet. Chad was nice, but his presence kept stopping you from attempting to make a move, and it seemed like it was stopping Ethan as well.

After what seemed like years,

Chad was busy, and you were finally left alone with Ethan. Even if it was for tutoring, he seemed nervous when he opened the door at your text, his face flushed a bright shade of red and a beaming look on his face. There were at least three shirts of Ethan's laying on Chad's bed as if he'd changed a few times before deciding on the shirt he was wearing at that moment. "Hey."

"Hi, sorry if this was too sudden. Chad just left, and I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with it being just us two," he cleared his throat as you rolled your eyes at his obvious overthinking and walked yourself in to sit on his bed, legs crossed one over the other. "Well, I like it being just you and me." Ethan could feel his ears burn at your comment, and he tried to look put together as he sat in front of you, his notebook on his lap.

"Are you going to the Halloween party this weekend?" you asked before he could get started with economics. "Uh… I think so, yeah." You smiled, and he suddenly felt way more at ease knowing that you wanted him to go. "What will you be dressed as?"

"I don't know yet. Chad said something about wanting to be a cowboy, but I hate most costumes I've seen in shops," he shrugged, biting his lip anxiously as he pretended to read his handwriting to hide his nerves. "I was thinking of going as Anakin," you chirped.

His eyes shot up to look at you, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Skywalker?" You made a face. "Duh! He's so cool, and it's so easy to find costumes of him since no one else is going to wear them because—let's be honest—they're scared of looking geeky. But that's the fun of Halloween." Ethan felt like all those negative thoughts had left his head the moment you mentioned what seemed to be your nerdy secret. "Chad said I should do a knight but suggested I craft it since it's last minute."

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, reaching to hold onto his hands as he gripped the notebook. "I could help you; you'd look so cute as a knight." He was going to throw up, surely; his stomach felt like it had flipped over at the thought of you wanting to spend time with him outside of tutoring, and even though you'd gotten a lot closer, he didn't feel like you guys had gotten to the hanging out point.

"Would you?" he asked, his eyes lit up. "Of course! Put that away; we'll start right now!" Just as you finished your sentence, Ethan stood excited and reached into his closet to pull out a big piece of cardboard. "I suck at this; I sure hope you have some hidden artsy talent."

You proudly held up the pencil and let your silence answer his own question as he read instructions he'd found on the internet for you to follow. If he was asked, he'd say he helped, but truly all he did was 'sit back and look pretty' as you'd told him to do while you did the work after he accidentally messed up painting the helmet and freaked out.

Once finished, you begged for him to try it on. "Come on! Just to see if it fits." He hid his face in his hands, groaning. "Oh my god, Y/N. This is embarrassing." He let you fit the boxy costume around him, and you put the cardboard helmet on his head before knocking on it with a proud look on your face. "See? Talent."

"Can I take it off now?" Ethan felt like his cheeks were going to explode as you stared at him with a grin, and he struggled to pull off the costume. "Will you go with Chad? Or do you want me to come get you?" He looked at you like he'd just seen a ghost. "Get me?"

"Like—pick you up." He mouthed an 'oh' and shrugged. "I think Chad will want to go together." He moved the notebook to his desk and stared at it for a few seconds, as if thinking when to actually tutor you.

"Great. I'll see you there, then." Before he could answer, you reached up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek and softly smack it before turning back and, with a quiet 'bye,' closing the door behind you, leaving Ethan dumbfounded and with a tingly feeling on his chest.

"Couldn't you add Velcro on this or something?" Chad complained for the fifth time as he attempted to help Ethan put on the costume. "I didn't think putting it on by myself would be so hard," he admitted, and Chad smirked.

"Who put it on you when you tried it on?"

"No one, just—help me." Chad pretended to believe that Ethan had managed to make the costume himself, and once they'd finally put it on, they made their way to the party.

Ethan wasn't a party guy, so standing by the door the whole time was his plan for the night, but his roommate refused to let him bore himself to death. As Ethan mimicked Chad's dancing in an attempt to 'just feel the music,' as he'd quoted, you and your friend walked in, bumping into him. "Sorry."

At his apology, you smiled softly and reached to fix his helmet. "Mighty knight," you greeted, moving the cape to the side to show him the plastic lightsaber you'd stolen from one of your friends. "Anakin," he mirrored.

"I'm leaving or I'll vomit," Chad fake gagged while he walked away, waving the two of you off as your friend took her cue to also go. "Did you just get here?" you asked, and the boy shook his head. "Like half an hour ago." He looked horrified at the scenery of the party, hearing a fight break out in the kitchen between two guys who wanted the same drink. "Wanna go on a walk or something?"

You took him leaving his water-filled cup on one of the tables as a yes, so when he came back to where you stood, you didn't hesitate to hold his hand and pull him through the door. "Parties aren't my thing," he said. "What is your thing?"

"Sleeping?"

"Fair enough, mine's napping."

"What? So… sleeping?" he stopped his tracks once he saw a bench near the house party, he watched you sit down and looked down at his chest in confusion. "No way! Naps are so much better than a night's sleep." He tilted his head in amusement as you rambled. "Or… you could just wait until it's bedtime."

"You just haven't tried to nap. It's the best thing ever. You're missing out, Ethan. You know I hate my friends missing out on fun stuff," he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't call napping fun."

"Well—maybe sleeping isn't your thing."

"Maybe it isn't."

You both fell quiet, and Ethan counted to five before trying to get the chest piece off, but he failed. "How'd you even manage to get this on me?" he asked, lifting his arms a bit so you could help him. "Ethan, there's some Velcro here," you pointed to the side of his torso,

and he suddenly felt a little dumb, which he was sure was a feeling he would share with Chad, who could also not find the Velcro. "Oh."

You laughed, feeling him stare down at you as you helped him anyway. Finally being able to sit down, he reached for your forearm and softly tugged you to sit next to him. "I love it, besides how uncomfortable it is to sit with." He'd kept the helmet on, and you reached to take it off and fix his hair, which had gotten messier because of the costume. "Beauty is pain," you sighed, dramatically ruffling his hair in an attempt to fix it back to how it usually was.

"You don't seem to be in pain," he said, quickly covering his eyes. "Fuck—that was so bad; pretend I never said that—oh god." You broke into a fit of laughter at his shitty line and the immediate regret. "I'm sorry," he mumbled more to himself than to you as he rested his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. "It was sweet," you held back a laugh.

"Don't lie."

"Okay. That was horrible, Ethan. Is that how you pick up girls?" he could sense your smile through your voice, and he exaggerated a sigh as he sat back, arm spread on the bench's backrest, near your shoulders. "No, I usually let them craft me a Halloween costume."

"Eh, look at you! Are you drunk? You're flirty tonight."

"I did a shot with Chad but spit it out immediately. Does that count?" he made a face at the reminder of the taste, and you couldn't help but admire the way his face scrunched up so incredibly adorable. "Sure, it does."

"If you'd told me you wanted to go as Anakin earlier, I would've gone for Obi Wan," he admitted, reaching to play with the hem of your cloak. "Maybe next time," you shrug. "You'd repeat a costume?" he fake gasped, moving his hand up to his chest; you mirrored him. "If we're going to dress up together, I will." Ethan put his hand out for you to shake, and you happily took it. Neither of you wanted to let go, so you let the linked hands fall onto your lap.

"To be fair, the lightsaber isn't even mine, and I think I broke it," he broke out a laugh and covered his mouth at your glare. "It fell."

"Sure, sure," he waved you off with his free hand, and you wondered if he was thinking about your held hands as much as you were. "Ethan," you said, tightening your hold. "Yes?"

How does one tell a guy they want to kiss him?

Taking a slow breath in, you asked, "We've known each other for a while, haven't we?" Ethan looked taken aback by your question, thinking for a few seconds. "Uh… yes."

"Are you ever going to kiss me?"

Ethan was so grateful for the dimmed street lights because if you were to see the shade of his face and neck at that moment, you'd think he was having a stroke. "Yeah, yes. Yes, I will," he managed out.

You hummed, moving in closer to him, practically leaning in. He took a few seconds to process this, but once he let himself take over, he leaned closer and closer until he could clasp his hand on your cheek, pulling you in to kiss you. Your hands moved up to his chest, feeling his heart speed as fast as yours, and one of your hands tangled in his previously messy hair while he took ahold of the back of your neck.

Pulling back for air, Ethan panted out a smile so close to your mouth that you could feel it form on your own lips. "Maybe kissing is your thing."

He hummed, leaning in to press a short kiss onto your lips again. "Maybe."

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for mary where readers ment to be away working but shows up at an important game and surprises her

Two-Week Notice

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Domestic fluff, reader can't attend Mary's game but surprises her.

-> Also for this request

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Meeting Mary had been one of the best moments in your life. Not because it was such a nice or cute moment, but because it let Mary into your life – bettering it by a hundred times.

The goalkeeper had just moved into a new Apartment building after joining Manchester United after a season at Wolfsburg, and she had not met anyone in her building. Life had come at the 26-year-old hard and fast.

And just as fast came the first fire alarm at her new place, and while she had been warned that the alarm often malfunctioned, she would not take any chances. After a quick walk through her apartment, checking that every window was closed and that she had grabbed her essentials, she was out the door into the flooding rain.

You however had lived in the building for a while and should have a routine by now when you were rudely ripped out of your well-deserved sleep. But you did in fact not have a routine, panicking every time.

This day was no different.

You were the last one out of the building, as usual – with no jacket. The rain was not something that you took notice of at first, too shocked that there actually was a fire in the building. It was a taller woman, with a very friendly smile who made you aware. “Aren’t you cold, love?”

As if a switch had been flipped, you started to shiver. “Forgot my jacket.” Mary was a goner the second she saw you shivering in the cold rain, the only thing in your hands, being a pillow, while she had her entire training kit.

The footballer didn’t hesitate to extend her jacket around you, effectively pulling you so close to her, that you could feel the heat radiating off of her. “You don’t mind, do ya?”

That was the beginning of something wonderful. Before you started dating, many evenings were spent together as ‘friends’ cooking and watching movies together. You listened to Mary moan about training and her teammates and she would sit and listen to you complain about your annoying co-workers who apparently could not function without you.

And while it was easy to fall in love with Mary, it was even easier to love her.

It took two months until you officially started dating each other. The first move was made by Mary who just sat you down one evening and asked you out on a date. Just like that, with a calm and collected mind, like she was playing one of the biggest games of her life.

A year later you moved into her apartment. It was the bigger one and your lease came to an end. If the two of you were being honest you could have moved in with each other the second you started dating – you could practically count the days you had spent in your own four walls on one hand.

One of Mary’s favorite parts of living together was the joined naps. Most of the time when she had come home from training you were on the couch napping, trying to stay awake until the goalkeeper came home, but you never quite managed – too tired from the early shift you had worked. After changing she would join you on the couch, setting an alarm so that you would not sleep away the day.

Waking you from your slumber was another one of the brunettes’ favorite moments. You were just so cute. Scrunched nose, red cheeks, and adorable whining that it was much too cold. Mary tended to stare at you, tempted to let you sleep longer, before she eventually just kissed you awake, making you giggle – a noise she loved oh so much.

Once it was later at night and time for bed came the playful fighting. Your favorite topic to fight about? The blanket and Mary’s tendency of stealing it, which was bad enough, but also denying it – blaming it on you.

“Mary, stop hogging the blanket!” She was curled up in it like a burrito, leaving you with just a corner of it. “Mary? Who’s Mary? My name is Baby, or Love, or literally anything else.” She had turned over to you lightning fast when you had called her by her government name, clearly offended by it.

“Okay, ‘literally anything else’ move over, I wanna be warm.” A shriek of speechlessness filled the room when a mischievous smile took over her face. Carefully she unwrapped the blanket, and just as you thought that you had gotten what you wanted and could finally head to bed – she pounced.

“Mary, no. No. No! Don’t you dare! Mary!” your incredibly strong girlfriend had jumped up from the bed, picking you up and holding you like a baby, making you unable to move. You thrashed in her arms as well as you could. “I’m mad, Mary! Put me down. Put me dooown!”

Whining took over the room as you struggled, eventually making Mary lose her balance but before she dropped you and herself, she just threw her body forward, taking you with her, toppling onto the bed.

Silence filled the room for a minute, both of you lying on the messy bed. “Are you still mad?” Instead of answering you pressed your ice-cold feet onto Mary`s very warm back. Swears and shrieks left her mouth as she took your feet in her hands and jokingly rolled you over, straddling your lap. “Let’s see where this night is going, ey cheeky?”

---

---

One of your favorite aspects of living together, aside from getting to hang out with the love of your life for the entire day, was a joined wardrobe. In the beginning, both of you had sections in the huge dresser and wardrobe, but over time your section was left untouched and Mary kept missing things.

“Baby, have you seen my blue Nike hoodie?” The goalkeeper wanted to wear it to a nice night in with the Manchester City girls, but could not find it anywhere. “No! Try the bathroom.” Of course, you had seen the hoodie. You were in fact wearing it, but you hoped, that Mary wouldn’t notice.

At first, she did not, searching the entire apartment before flopping down on the couch, burying her face in your chest – when she noticed that the blue of your hoodie was familiar. “Baby, that’s mineee.” She whined at you, trying to take it off you. “Love – please no. It’s so cold without it.”

For ten long minutes Mary tried to get her clothes back when she discovered that you were also wearing her joggers and socks – but it was useless. She caved once she saw your cute pout. With a loud huff, she went back to the bedroom, getting dressed in a green version of the same hoodie. “Baby, we’re matching – look!” You excitedly held out your arm, showing the material to a very unimpressed lioness. “I think I should join you for dinner.”

“Nu-uh! You don’t deserve it – thief!” But once Mary was opening the front door, she turned to you, asking why you were not ready. She clearly didn’t expect you to be actually dressed.

But alas you were and accompanied her to dinner. While she acted all mad about it, you knew that she loved it – she loved seeing you with her teammates who took such great care of you.

The joined closet was a mutually loved concept – you loved wearing Mary’s clothes and she loved seeing you in them.

---

---

As much as you loved being a WAG, and attended every match Mary played, sometimes it just didn’t work out. That was the case for the quarterfinal of the European Championships on home soil, here in England. The girls were playing against Spain, a feisty match, an incredibly important one at that.

And you? Stuck at work.

Why? Because the men in your company decided to punish you, ‘losing’ the form you had handed in as a request to get the day off. So there you were, stuck at work while Mary was preparing for one of the most important games of her life – without you.

Not only did you have to be at work which was already annoying but your colleagues were weaponizing their incompetence more than usual, making you do everything. Just 20 minutes after kick-off you have had enough. So you stood up, entered your boss's office, and handed in your two-week notice that you had filled out for a while now.

And with that, you just left. Ignoring your boss and colleagues who told you that you could not just leave.

Ten minutes later you entered the Falmer stadium, joining Mary’s parents in the family section who immediately ushered you off to the changing rooms. It was eerily silent as you sat down in Mary’s cubby, fidgeting with her second pair of gloves.

Just a few minutes later you could hear a bunch of cleats hitting the floor, a nervous chatter filling the hallway. Leah was the first to enter, eyes wide in surprise when she saw you. But the skipper did not say anything, as did the others who followed.

As usual, Mary was one of the last people, busy talking to Millie about what they needed to change. She nearly just sat down on you, when she finally noticed. “Baby! I thought you couldn’t come!” Kisses were spread all over your face, the brunette being teased by the other lionesses.

Quietly you explained how you had gotten there, your girlfriend happy that you finally quit, when Sarina and the coaching staff joined the girls in the room. Mary had pulled you on her lap, holding you as close to her as she could, trying to calm down and compose her thoughts.

With a good-luck kiss on her lips and gloves she left for the pitch again. Alessia and Ella followed, also wanting a good-luck kiss on their foreheads, and soon the entire squad of the lionesses had gotten a forehead kiss from you – Mary watching with curious eyes.

---

The second half was tense, especially after Esther scored in the 54th minute. But it was a freshly substituted Ella who got the equalizer in the 84th before Georgia shot the game-winning goal in the 96th. But there were still 20 minutes to go, and Mary did brilliantly.

2-1 to England and the crowd erupted in cheers once the final whistle sounded.

It was Millie and Lucy who had made their way over to you, lifting you over the barrier and onto the pitch – just to be tackled by Ella. “Your kiss helped! Ya must be my lucky charm now.” The excited brunette kissed your cheeks over, and over again, giggling in excitement.

“Get your own good-luck charm Tooney!” Mary had finally gotten to you, pulling you out of Ella’s hands and into a bruising kiss that left Ella squealing. “It's like watching my parents make out!” But you were met with whistles and claps on the back by other lionesses, who laughed at Ella’s reaction.

“I don’t think you have a choice to be at the next game, babe. Good luck charm of the whole team.” Your girlfriend’s smile was infectious, making you laugh as well, knowing damn well that you would be there at the semi-final even if hell froze over.

[jaylver]

YOU ARE IN LOVE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: one summer. two idiots. what could possibly go wrong? you swore this was finally going to be a memorable summer, one where it'll be filled with adventures just like coming of age movies. but then jake sim just had to ruin it. how so? by taking over your head.

PAIRINGS: childhood bestfriend!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: childhood bestfriends to lovers, angst, romance, pining

WARNING(S): miscommunications, parties, alcohol, profanities

WC: 4.7k

A/N: this has been rotting in my docs for AGES before i even created this account 😭 i wanted to free it so here we are 👹 apologies in advance if it's tacky/lacky writing since this short fic was written when i was starting to get out of my burn out >.< lmk your feedbacks as always! <3

masterlist | © jaylver 2023 all rights reserved

Summer is the best thing to ever happen to mankind. 

Trips to the beach, ice cream dates, late night drives, house parties, the list goes on and on. And who else to spend it with? Of course, your one and only best friend and neighbour since you were four years old, Jake Sim.

Every summer was practically filled with him and him only. Ever since you were kids, you did everything together. Writing up lists and going on adventures, spending nights watching movies et cetera. But this summer, it seemed … different.

Maybe it was the problem of being seventeen. Seventeen is an awkward age. Period. But other than that, you couldn't understand the way he was acting.

Summer always started and ended with him. Always. But this summer, he wasn't anywhere near you. Occasionally popping by and disappearing after nightfall, declining late night movies together or beach trips. Rude!

It just felt weird without him. So, you found yourself turning up in front of his house one day, tapping your foot against the hard floor as you knocked impatiently on the door. 

"Y/N?" Jake appeared in front of you, his eyebrows scrunched with confusion.

“Jake,” you smiled innocently at him, which only made him look at you with more confusion. 

“Y/N it’s 10 pm?” 

“I just wanted to see you,” you admitted, to which you cursed at yourself for letting those words escape your lips so shamelessly because it was something you couldn’t deny. 

You could see the way his gaze softened, then proceeded to let out a sigh. “Is it … because I barely hang out with you these days?”

“So, you’re self aware this whole time?” you couldn’t help shooting back, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold wind brushed past. But even without the wind, you felt your body freezing up from the sudden burst of nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy,” Jake frowned, guilt evident on his face. “Wanna come in, we can hang?”

Just as he finished his sentence, his phone buzzed, a notification popped up. Your eyes averted to the screen of his phone, catching a slight glimpse. “1 new message from Grace”

Your heart dropped. You knew Grace. Hell, everyone knew her, she was the cheerleader of your school after all. Miss Popular, Miss Crowned Queen. And Jake was texting her? Your Jake?

“So, Grace, huh?” Was this what he was caught up with all along? You mentally scolded yourself, wondering why you were even thinking about this when it wasn’t even your business to care about in the first place. This unreadable feeling was brewing in your stomach and you didn’t like it at all.

“It’s nothing, really. She texted me lately, that’s all,” he shoved his phone into his back pocket, giving you a reassuring smile. “Still up to hang?”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s getting late anyway. Tomorrow?” You didn’t know why you said this. It was never too late when it came to Jake. 

“Sure. I–uhm–heard there’s a party hosted by this guy called Ethan? Wanna come along?” 

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “I’m down.”

“Sweet,” he flashed you that goddamned smile, the one that charmed you until you felt light headed. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Cool,” you smiled a little, feeling the air turning still for a second once you locked eyes with him. Your heartbeat quickened, it was as though air was sucked out from your lungs and all you wanted was him. 

“W-Wanna come over watch a movie with me tomorrow before the party? I’m home alone all day and we haven’t hung out properly for a while now,” Jake offered, stumbling over his words as he fidgeted his fingers, ears turning slightly pink.

You grinned. “How about the new Spiderman movie?”

He let out a small laugh, returning a big grin back. “You know me too well, huh? Deal.”

“See you tomorrow then, Jakey,” you reached over to ruffle his hair, but before you could fully pull away, he took hold of your wrist. 

“I’ve missed you, can’t you stay a little longer?” he whined, swinging your arm gently. 

You cursed at him, at his words and the amount of butterflies they’ve caused. “You can’t just say things like that,” you murmured under your breath.

“Hm?” he hummed and you looked up at him. 

You dismissed your previous words, hoping he didn’t catch on to them. “Tomorrow we’re hanging out the whole day anyway. By then you wouldn’t be missing me anymore,” 

“I miss you every day, though. Stick to my side like the old days?”

“How could I say no, Jakey?” you sighed, your heart thumping louder and louder as seconds passed. “Now, go sleep dumbass, we need to wake up early.” 

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in defeat. “Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t stay up too late too, or else you’ll get premature wrinkles.” 

“I’ll beat you up.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

It felt natural.

You were resting on Jake's chest, his arms around you, a bowl balanced on your stomach, a movie blaring in the background, the lights dimmed. It was natural.

"Peter's pretty dumb sometimes, isn't he?" You spoke up, hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn, feeling Jake's hand brush against yours to get some as well.

You tried to excuse the fact that you were about to choke at the slight contact, playing it cool as you chewed on your popcorn.

"Totally. Why would he even do that?" Jake huffed.

You looked up at him from his chest, admiring his face slightly, not even caring about what misdemeanours Peter Parker was committing. 

Jake could feel you staring, and he decided to look down at you, your gazes meeting. This was what you two always do whenever you're watching movies, it should be normal by now, but why in hell were you suddenly nervous?

"Mum wants you to come over for dinner," you whispered to him, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his eyes.

"I'm more than glad to do so," Jake pursed his lips, watching your movements closely.

The tension seemed to grow thicker and the movie started to fade into the background as the two of you stayed in this close proximity. You unconsciously glanced at his lips, swallowing thickly once you noticed him reciprocating the same action.

"Y/N-"

"Jake!" 

You almost let out a groan, but instead you looked away, clearing your throat and removing yourself from Jake's body. You were absolutely flushed, thinking of the endless possibilities that could've happened. But in the end, nothing did anyway. And that was why you were about to strangle Park Jong Seong for interrupting. 

"Jay?" Jake fumbled to sit up, his eyes turning to you before refocusing on Jay. "Is it time to leave already?"

"Duh," Jay rolled his eyes, casually dropping onto the couch beside you. "How are you, Y/N? Been enjoying summer?"

"Quite," you simply shrugged. "Someone over here left me alone after he promised a summer full of adventures," you nudged Jake and he smiled apologetically.

"I got caught up with some things!" He defended but Jay raised an eyebrow at his words.

"Some things or some one?"

"What?" You turned to Jake, trying to mask your disappointment with sheer interest. "Is it Grace?"

"So … you knew?" Jay's eyebrows only raised higher.

"I only found out yesterday, indirectly as well." you said, clearly unimpressed.

Jake rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Come on, guys. She only texted me once or twice. I was busy cramming my work, okay?"

"That's true too," Jay nodded in understanding. "You practically procrastinated everything and now it's a pile,"

"Must you remind me of it?" Jake groaned, his attention to you, taking notice of your sudden silence. "You alright there?"

You blinked at him, humming in response. How could you tell him that your stomach churned with jealousy whenever Grace was mentioned? How could you even admit that you're currently harbouring some god forbidding liking towards him? Your childhood best friend? The one who once spilled chocolate milk all over his shirt? The one who cried when he was forced to go back home after a whole day together with you? Jake Sim? 

You were fucked. You liked Sim Jaeyun. And you had zero idea what to do about it.

The house party was basically like every other one you've been to. Passed out drunks here and there, the dance floor crammed to the max, the music booming loudly in your ears. Overall, you felt regretful coming here.

What made things worse was Jake abandoning you to talk to Grace. Yup, Grace. Even after all the denial he fed to you and Jay, he's still laughing and talking merrily to her, leaving you stuck in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

What a great Friday night!

It was almost midnight, so you decided to storm out of the house for some fresh air before declaring your leave, but Jake somehow caught you sneaking out.

"Leaving so soon?" He was leaning against the wall, watching your tired figure semi-passed out on the chair.

"God, Jake, you reek of alcohol," you pointed out, scrunching your nose at the stench. "Also, I'm not that inconsiderate. I won't leave you behind … unlike someone over here," you grumbled.

"Look, Grace dragged me away the moment I entered. Plus, I think I got to start avoiding her now," Jake groaned, sitting down next to you.

"Broke her heart?" You assumed. It wasn't uncommon to see Jake reject girls and break their heart growing up. Well, look at him, it was a fact that he got girls lining up for him. But you found it weird how he's never had a long term relationship before, which only made you more wary about your feelings for him.

"I wasn't being a douche about it!" He threw up his hands in defence. "I kindly rejected her, that's all. She seemed cool about it though," he shrugged and you felt his shoulder brush against your arm, his thigh making contact with yours.

"Look at you, all grown up and no longer breaking girls' hearts!" You smiled sarcastically at him. 

"Hey! I literally rejected all of them in a nice way. I'm a kind man, you know?" Jake huffed, stretching his body, then proceeded to slyly place his arms around you.

You were genuinely trying your hardest to remain the best poker face you could even manage. Yet, you knew the facade would eventually fade. "Sure, sure, Jakey boy."

He turned his body to face yours, a challenging expression written all over his face. "Do you remember the time when we were five and I gave you my legos? I still remember how many hugs you gave me every day after that. So yes, I am kind." Jake insisted.

"You remembered?" You grinned at him, feeling your heart rate increasing once you saw the fondness in his eyes.

"Of course I remembered," he said softly. "You give good hugs anyway."

"Want a hug?" You chuckled, not expecting Jake to actually dive into your arms and hold onto you tightly.

"You smell like strawberries," he murmured against your skin. 

You swallowed thickly and started breathing heavily. "A–are you drunk?"

"Just a bit," he pulled away from your body, his brown eyes meeting yours, his hands slowly travelling up to your face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" He whispered.

"Don't do this," you mumbled, your hand reaching for his wrist.

"What?" He breathed, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. 

"Don't make me fall in love with you completely," you stared into his eyes, slight hurt and regret painted your expressions.

"Fuck, why did I say that?" you laughed pitifully at yourself, removing yourself from his arms and stood up. "It's getting late, let's go," you said, ignoring Jake's lingering gaze.

"Y/N," he held onto your wrist and you stood rooted to the ground, not knowing what you could even say or do. You felt like an idiot. "W–what did you mean by that?" 

"It's nothing," you dismissed his question, feeling yourself sinking into a deeper hole. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, clearly frustrated. The moment he got up, he stumbled slightly and his words slurred. The alcohol has finally seeped in.

"Y/N, come on," he urged, desperation in his eyes. All you could do was sigh. 

"I'm sorry, Jake." 

So you did what you always do every summer. You ran from your problems and hid from the fact you had lingering feelings for your "best friend".

You found yourself avoiding Jake after that night.

It was ironic how you complained about him disappearing in and out of your life during the start of summer, but here you were, doing the same.

He came over to your house a couple of times, but you chose the cowardly choice of hiding away. All of his texts and calls were half answered. 

You hated doing this, you knew it was hurting both you and him. But what could you do? Confess? Well, it was the most obvious way to solve the problem, but you were unwilling to risk a life long friendship with him. Pathetic you were indeed.

The weekend rolled around the corner and you just had to face one demise after another. Jake and his family were coming over for dinner and there's zero chances for you to dodge him this time. Thank you, Universe, you thought sarcastically.

Your palms felt clammy and sweaty as you set up the table. Before this, your mother had specifically requested you to present yourself more formally instead of wearing your typical sweats, so now you were stuck in a black skin tight dress, just appropriate enough to not be deemed as slutty.

"They're here!" your mother announced, clapping her hands in excitement. You, on the other hand, were only filled with nothing but dread.

The door flew open and hugs were exchanged. Your mother squealed happily when she saw Jake and for a moment, you were about to do the same.

His hair was slicked back, only a strand was left hanging in front of his face. He was wearing a formal black suit paired alongside a simple black tie. He was about to be the death of you. 

"Y/N." He nodded at you, lips pressed in a straight line.

"Jake." You replied back, hands kept behind your back, trying to conceal the fact that you were actually fidgeting.

"You kids are matching!" Mrs Sim pointed out, laughing delightfully.

You felt Jake's eyes on your body for a tense moment, sensing them scanning you from top to bottom. You met his gaze once he finished checking you out so blatantly, and all he did was smile at you innocently. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Why don't you kids go hang out yourselves?" Your mother patted your arm. 

"Sure," Jake shrugged, smoothing out the fronts of his blazer.

"Great!" Your mother beamed, then leaned down to whisper to you. "Don't do anything weird, okay?"

You grimaced. "Ew." Must your own mother put the mental image of you doing something 'weird' with Jake into your mind?

You turned around, practically dashing up the stairs towards your room. And as always, Jake followed you like a lost puppy. Once he shut the door to your room, he faced you with a blank expression, devoid of any signs of what he's about to say.

"So? Are you going to explain why you were ignoring me?" Jake leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared at you, unimpressed.

"What if I don't?" you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'll force it out of you somehow, you know I always get my way," he replied nonchalantly and you only rolled your eyes at him, knowing how he wasn't completely wrong.

Jake seemed to have noticed your silence and decided to break the ice first. "I remembered that night, Y/N. You can't hide away from me forever just because of what you said."

You groaned, burying your face into your hands, completely flushed with embarrassment. "Must you remind me?"

"How can I forget about it when my best friend literally told me she loves me?" He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Can't you just tell me how you feel? It's been days and nights since I felt at peace after what you'd said to me. What's worse is that I couldn't even remember it precisely. So please, just make it clear."

"Fine. Jake, I–"

"Y/N!"

You wished you could blow up right this instance. Out of every second, every minute, your mother just had to call you when you were about to come clean about your feelings. If you could, you would've liked to reach for the nearest pillow and scream into it.

"Well … next time, Jakey boy. Dinner calls!"

Before Jake could respond, you exited your room quickly, ignoring your thumping heart as you replayed everything in your mind. 

Dinner was awkward.

Parents asking about each other's kids' situations and having deep conversations about life while Jake and you, on the other hand, were avoiding each other's gazes. Not ready to face whatever that had just happened.

You thought your torment was finally over when dinner ended and you found yourself dipping your legs by the pool when Jake silently joined your side, following your actions.

"You okay?"

You turned to look at him, kicking your legs slightly, you felt your shoulder brushing against his, thighs touching. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Why?"

"Nothing. It was just that you were barely speaking all dinner and I got concerned," Jake pointed out and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Everything's … complicated these days," you said. 

At your words, Jake shifted a little. He knew what your "complicated" meant, it was about you and him. 

"What even are we?" Jake spluttered out and you froze beside him, the water temperature suddenly dropping to 0 degrees. 

"You really want to talk about that now?" You mumbled, frowning.

"Then when can we even face it? I'm tired of you running away and me being in the dark," Jake argued, turning his body to face you.

"Jake …" you were rendered speechless, your body still, guilt clawing its way into your system. "I just don't think I'm ready yet, okay?"

Jake seemed frustrated at your comment. "Y/N–"

"JAKE!" 

It was his mother calling out for him and you heard him swearing under his breath. "Next time, Y/N. I'll wait for you."

With that, he left, leaving you completely dazed. He'll wait? 

"Can you please come? They literally have a pool!"

Thursday night you found yourself at peace knowing nothing will ruin your weekend, until Jay's phone call. Being the party goer he was, he's now trying to convince you to tag along to some guy's party.

"What if I said no?" 

"I don't take 'no' as an answer,"

"Tough luck, champ," 

"Come on, Y/N," Jay whined. "Everyone is going. I mean, Jake is, and that cute guy you mentioned from school — Heeseung — was it? He's there too. You can shoot your shot!"

You thought about it for a moment as you cursed Jay for being way too convincing. "Fine. Since you asked so nicely."

"I know I could always count on you."

Safe to say the party was going considerably well and you weren't about to leave just after arriving for only a solid 15 minutes. Jay remained by yourself for the whole time, conversing with his own circle of friends while your eyes searched for a specific somebody among the sea of people. 

“I’ll go for a dance,” you nudged Jay, trying to get his attention.

“Be safe.” he simply said, but his words were filled with genuinity.

A couple cups of drinks definitely boosted your confidence as you shamelessly swayed your hips to the music playing in the background. The blinking lights blinded your sight, alcohol clouded your thoughts, unknowing to someone sliding close to you. Thankfully, your sixth sense never failed and you turned to meet the gaze of Lee Heeseung.

“Hey,” he casually greeted.

“Hi,” you breathed out, sudden shyness taking over.

“Wanna dance?” he offered and you nodded meekly. “Follow my lead,” he held onto your arms, circling them over his shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” Heeseung whispered and you nodded once more. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. The cute guy from school was in fact dancing with you. You let yourself let go as you closed your eyes and swayed along to the beat of the music. This was heaven. 

No matter how you tried to shake off that weird feeling, it never went away. You knew someone was staring at you, burning little holes into the back of your head intensely. You opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the startling lights and almost immediately, you locked gazes with him.

Lo and behold, Jake Sim, sitting across the room, his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly unhappy about whatever you were doing, and you loved the effect you had on him. 

You smiled innocently, leaning close to Heeseung's ear. "I'm going to take a break. See you at school?"

Heeseung grinned at you. "Sure thing. I had fun dancing with you."

"Likewise." 

Thankfully, you managed to waddle your way through the crowd alive and made your way out of the house for some fresh air. The atmosphere inside of the house was too heavy and the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol stuck in the air.

"Running away from me again?" 

A voice came from behind you and you knew who it was immediately.

"Not everything is about you, okay?" You grumbled, hugging your arms around your body for warmth as you sat down on the front steps.

Jake joined your side, placing his hands on his knees, glancing at you from time to time. “Care to explain why you’re actively avoiding me?”

“I’m not,”

“Liar.”

You remained silent, not knowing what to say next. 

“You were dancing real close to Heeseung tonight,” he pointed out.

“Great observation, Sherlock,” you finally dared to turn to look at him. “Can we head back in? I’m craving for a drink,”

Jake only nodded soundlessly, following your movements as you stood up to head back in. You felt bad, guilty even, at the way you’re acting towards your lifelong best friend, but you couldn’t help it, your emotions were basically choking you hard. You tugged on Jake’s shirt, ready to say something.

“Jake—” Just when you two entered, Jake was pulled away, not even sparing a second for you to process, so now you were alone.

 “Great,” you mumbled unhappily under your breath, making your way to the drinks in the kitchen. Maybe they’ll console you instead. You genuinely wondered who’d cursed you countlessly whenever you were trying to confront Jake. 

To your dismay, the kitchen was filled with drunk teenagers who were all busy mixing their new anecdote for the night. Plan B, not the kitchen. 

You left for the living room instead, grumbling in annoyance since you couldn't get a drink. As you were about to turn a corner, you heard voices, very familiar ones and immediately halted your steps.

“You ditched Grace?” Park Sunghoon, the notorious figure skater who everyone was pining for, hissed.

Jake hummed.

“Is it because of Y/N?” Sunghoon asked, an undertone of suspicion laced in his voice.

"I don't like her like that," Jake murmured under his breath.

You froze. This couldn't be happening now, right? Out of any day, any place, it just had to be in a house, in the middle of an ongoing party. To be frank, you've already prepared yourself to face rejection every time you imagined confessing to Jake. But overhearing Jake's negative confession was surely not in your list.

"You're serious?" Sunghoon poked on.

"I don't know, man." Jake sighed in defeat. "Can we not talk about this now?"

You blinked away the confusing feelings you were currently having. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it hope? You couldn't tell. All you wanted was to be home, in your cosy bed.

There were many things you were afraid to do in life, such as talking to boys your age, socialising, confronting your crush and so on, but today, right now, you had zero regrets as you continued your steps, walking past Jake.

It was all white noises in your ears and blissful ignorance. Jake was calling after you, trying to reach you, but the crowd only ended up swallowing him whole. 

Once you were out of the house, you found yourself finally breathing again, suddenly thankful for the fresh air. But there's a rather unfortunate problem for you, Jake caught up with you.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Fuck off," you snapped, an overwhelming wave of emotions clawing in your body.

"Listen to me, I didn't mean that," Jake's voice rose unintentionally.

"Yeah? So you're expecting me to be totally fine as if nothing happened?" You frowned. "Well, hi Jake, how was the party? Not good? Why-"

"Stop! Why are you even acting like this?" Jake grabbed ahold of your shoulders, making you stare directly at him as he could tell you were about to flee at any minute.

"Because–" You shrugged his hold away. "I like you, Jake! Ever since we were fifteen. But you were always so clueless to tell. And this summer, you were basically too hung up over Grace to spend time with me, then that night when you said those things to me, do you expect me to act oblivious after that? And today, you said those words … how am I supposed to know how you feel?"

You couldn't tell what Jake was thinking. He practically had a poker face on, seemingly trying to take in everything you've just said. "Y/N …"

"What do you want from me, Jake?"

Jake took a deep breath, his features ridden with frustration as he burst out.

"I want you. Okay? Happy now?"

To say you were stunned was clearly an understatement. You didn't know what to say or act, staring at him with your mouth ajar. 

"I–I have liked you since we were kids and I don't think I realised until this summer," Jake went on, clearly rambling in distress. "That's why I avoided you, Y/N. I was scared. I didn't know why I felt like that or what I should do. In the end, I figured it was you. It was always you, no matter what."

"Then have me, Jake."

"What?"

It was one of those moments where it felt entirely out of a movie. Jake could only stare at you wordlessly while you breathed heavily, a million thoughts running through your head and you’ve finally accepted it. 

Oh no, you’ve fallen in love.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you grumbled under your breath, taking his face into your hands and pulling him in for a kiss. 

When your lips touched, it felt as if countless emotions and unspoken words from over the years passed through like a connection. It felt right. Jake slid his hand around your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. This was absolute bliss. 

You put your hand on his wrist, pulling away gently, eyes not leaving one another for even a second. The two of you pant softly, trying to catch a breath from the kiss and you started to shy away, in disbelief that this actually happened. Jake noticed, smiling a little, leaning down to press a gentle peck against the side of your mouth.

“Wanna stay over at mine tonight? I can drive,”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Laying in his bed with the lights off accompanied by the whirring of the A/C played in the background, his arms wrapped around you, the beating of his heart against your back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, it was something familiar yet so new. 

You turned around to face him, watching as he rubbed his eyes, stirring awake slightly. It was still dark outside, but Jake couldn’t fall asleep, finding himself treasuring your presence instead. You were brushing loose strands of hair away from his face when a strange look appeared and he spoke, voice sluggish.

"You're my best friend."

Somehow, you understood what he meant and you knew what it was. He is in love.

—

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Revenge

Summary: Scared to end up alone you hang on to your marriage of 15 years to your cheating husband, continuing to play the perfect wife. But then you meet Dave York, your husbands boss, on one of his work events and things take a very surprising turn....

Pairing: Dave York x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 5.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: infidelity, angst, forced cucking (cheating husband has to watch his wife have sex with one Dave York), smut (unprotected sex, oral f receiving), Cum play, public fingering, use of the word whore, intense eye contact, flirting like woah

A/N: I worked on this for four weeks and I'm super proud of it. Please let me know what you think. Some people might recognise the scene at the bar from the movie Shame.

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You would be lying if you said you did not imagine yourself in this situation before. 

Sitting with an attractive man at a bar, flirting. Maybe even something more…

Many lonely nights in the bed you should be sharing with your husband left your mind wandering to what life could be like if you had married a man who respected and loved you. 

Though you were pretty sure Calvin did love you in the beginning, maybe he even loved you now. In his… own way. It just changed somewhere between moving into your first real home together and you getting a job that paid more than his. 

You just weren’t enough to… satisfy all his physical needs anymore, hadn’t been for a long time. It was an open secret that he was cheating on you, you just weren’t brave enough to leave him, even though you could. You had the job, the friends, the money. You just… did not know how to be alone. 

Which was a stupid thing to think because you spent the majority of your relationship being alone. 

It came to a point where you weren’t even mad or hurt anymore, whenever you found stains of lipstick on his shirts that you for some reason still washed for him. 

It was… easier living this lie than separating from the man you had been with for the last fifteen years. You loved the life you had built together. You just wished you weren’t so miserable and lonely living it alone. 

You hadn’t slept with Calvin since you found out about the first time he cheated on you, which was almost eight years ago. He said he was sorry, begged for your forgiveness, which you granted him. But you told him that you wouldn’t sleep with him before he would prove that you could trust him to be honest and faithful with you. That, and a clean bill of health.

He never did. 

You were more like roommates at this point. And even though you did not know the exact extent of his infidelity, you still played the perfect wife for him whenever he needed you to. 

You looked away when he flirted with women much younger than you when you were out. Which wasn’t often. Only when there was something from work or something your friends had invited you both. 

It was one of those work events he insisted you accompany him, leaving you sitting alone as soon as you entered the place at the bar. 

You were about to call it a day when a man sat down next to you.

Calvin was off somewhere while you were sitting in a darker corner at the bar, enjoying your martini as he, his boss Dave York, introduced himself to you, inviting you for another drink

There was something in his eyes when you told him your name. A glint of interest when he learned that you were the wife of Calvin Miller. 

You learned that Dave was recently divorced and had moved into an overpriced penthouse that felt too empty and sterile. His wife had fallen in love with another woman and because he did not want to stay in the way of her happiness, he had let her and his two daughters move all the way to Europe while he stayed back. 

Dave York was… charming, hot and had something dangerous about him that made you only more interested in him. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone was really interested in you and what you had to say. 

You saw Calvin across the room, talking to one of the serving girls who was blushing furiously as she looked at him while he tried to charm his way into her pants. 

Sighing you closed your eyes, taking a sip from your drink, breathing in deeply, finding Dave looking at you. 

“You know he’s fucking himself through the whole city right?” he asked. 

You nodded.

“I know he’s cheating frequently, I just.. Chose to ignore how many women exactly he fucks as long as it doesn’t happen in our home.”

Dave sucked his bottom lip in, intrigued. 

“You don’t mind?”

You shrugged. 

“Part of me does. Sometimes I feel like a coward for not leaving him. I know I deserve more. I deserve someone who loves me and respects me. Who asks me how my day was, who notices when I got a new hair colour, who…. Fuck I just feel so lonely sometimes.”

“So why don’t you leave him?”

“Honestly?” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip in. Dave nodded, turning in his seat to lean a little closer towards you. You smelled his aftershave, allowing yourself to take a deep breath before you answered him.  

“I don’t think I know how to live on my own, and staying where I am even if it sucks is… easier? We met in highschool, got married before we got out of college. I have spent my whole adult life with him. Fuck… I never even had sex with anyone other than him,” you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Do you want to?” Dave asked and you looked up. 

“Do I want what?”

“Have sex with someone else?” 

His hand came to rest on your knee and you shivered, your eyes on his hand. His fingers were softly squeezing just above your knee. You felt each of his fingers on you, only separated by the thin material of the silk dress you were wearing. You looked up, your lips parting. 

“Dave…”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know? If I had you in my house, in my home, in my bed?” he leaned in closer, his lips brushing over your ear and your eyes slipped close. Unintentionally you parted your legs, your dress revealing a glimpse of your inner thigh and you shuddered as he took this as an invitation, his fingers slowly running up your inner thigh.

“I’d make sure your pussy is the only one I’m fucking. I might be an asshole, but I’m a loyal asshole,” his nose brushed over your neck as he seemed to inhale your scent, his fingers slipping deeper between your legs which seemed to part even wider for him with ease. 

“Did he ever go down on you?” he hummed, his fingers brushing over the soaked fabric of your lace panties. You released a shuddering breath, closing your eyes. 

“I bet he hasn’t treated this pussy properly. I’d make sure you’d soak my face every single day when I had you in my bed, my kitchen counter, my desk…” his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them to the side. 

“Look at me,” he whispered and while your eyes opened he slowly pushed two of his fingers inside of you. A part of you knew that you were in a public space, yet looking into Dave’s dark eyes made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet. 

He slowly moved his fingers, your body screaming in pleasure from the way his fingers seemed to know just how to touch you, while you tried to keep a straight face as he kept looking at you with dark eyes. 

“I like to slip my tongue deep inside of you,” he hummed and you couldn’t help but gasp as his fingers pulled out of your pussy, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You looked down at his fingers, your eyes following them as he brought them up to his lips. You could see them glistening with your juices, while he brought them up to his mouth sucking them clean. 

“Just when you’re about to cum, licking you clean before I finally give you my big cock,” he tilted his head to the side, looking at you as he licked his lips with a filthy smirk. 

You jumped in your seat when an arm sneaked around your middle from behind, your eyes leaving Dave’s to find Calvin standing next to you, glaring at you before he looked at Dave. 

“I see you met my wife, Dave,” he said. 

“I did and It’s Mr. York to you, Miller,” Dave said bored, picking up his drink to take a sip, keeping his eyes on you. 

You were still flushed, your brain trying to get back to speed. 

“How come you are here with your wife and not in the bathroom getting your dick sucked by one of the college waitresses, Miller?” Dave asked.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Dave,” Calvin said, letting go of you to grab your drink, chugging it down himself. Dave looked amused at you and then at him, his face hardening. 

“Come on, we’re all friends here, don’t lie in front of your wife,” he said. You risked a glance at Calvin who looked at his boss with his lips parted in shock. 

Dave looked at you then, a silent challenge in his eyes. 

“I love my wife,” Calvin said and you snorted. His head snapped to look at you. 

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you rolled your eyes and Dave laughed. 

“Tell you what, why don’t you go back to whatever cunt you were after and I keep your wife company,” Dave said. 

“With all due respect, Dave…” Calvin began to talk but Dave shot him a dark look. 

“Call me Dave one more time and see what happens, Mister Miller,” he threatened and you felt Calvin stiffen beside you. Interesting. 

He took a deep breath before he looked at you. 

“I was gonna head home,” Calvin said, looking at you with a question in his eyes. You turned your head to look at Dave. You didn’t want to leave. And you knew Calvin only lied about going home because he either didn’t find someone else to fuck or… because he had a weird spurge of jealousy now that someone was giving you attention and felt like he had a claim on you. Which a silly part of your brain made you feel powerful. 

“I’m sure Dave can give me a ride later?” you asked, with an eyebrow raised. Dave chuckled, one of his hands coming back to rest on your knee. 

“Of course I can, Sweetheart.”

When Dave drove you home a couple hours later, Calvin wasn’t home. Not that you were surprised. 

Dave and you had spent the whole evening talking. And flirting. Call it needy and years of neglect, but fuck you wanted him. 

You invited Dave in for a drink and he followed you into your home. 

Sitting beside him in your living room you sighed. 

“I feel so… Fuck I don’t know. Weak? Silly? Worthless? Like a fucking victim, even though I have everything I need to just…. Live my own life and don’t let him humiliate me like that.”

Dave sighed. 

“Ending a marriage is not easy. Feelings aren’t something you can’t just turn off. You’re not worthless. You are… fucking perfect,” Dave said and you turned your head to look at him. 

“I want him to feel how humiliated he makes me feel,” you said. 

“What are you thinking?”

You sucked your bottom lip in, blaming the idea forming in your head on your slightly tipsy brain. 

“Are you free on friday?” you asked, a plan forming in your mind. He narrowed his eyes. 

“I can be.”

You nodded, sucking your bottom lip in. You took both of your glasses, setting them down on the coffee table. Dave watched your every move as you got up, coming to stand between his legs. 

You didn’t know if it was the drinks you had or the way Dave York had given you his whole attention for the last hours, but you just wanted to feel something. Or someone. 

“It’s our anniversary,” you said quietly as you slowly settled down into Dave’s lap, straddling him. His hands came to rest on your upper thighs immediately, his hands pushing the skirt of your dress up, as your hands rested on his shoulders. You closed your eyes, your skin heating under his intense gaze. 

“I haven’t been fucked in eight years,” you whispered, moaning when you felt Dave’s hands wander over your body, squeezing your ass, pulling you closer towards him. You gasped as your clit rubbed just right over his growing bulge. 

“And… And I think I want you to fuck me while he has to watch,” unintentionally you began to move your hips against him. He smirked. 

“Eight years?” he asked and you nodded. He hummed.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you whispered and he suddenly pulled at the belt of your wrap dress, the fabric falling open. 

“Fuck me,” he uttered under his breath, the green lace lingerie you were wearing driving him wild. One of his hands came back to squeeze your ass, while his other hand palmed one of your breasts. 

“Can you cum like that? Just with your needy little clit rubbing against me?” he asked and you moaned, your head nodding. 

“Then make yourself cum,” he said, before he leaned in and sucked on your nipple through your bra. 

“Fuck,” you cried out, rubbing yourself against him. 

“That’s it, you want me to fuck you in front of your cheating husband? Then cum for me,” he snarled, slapping your ass.

“I’m gonna… Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, throwing your head back as your orgasm rolled through your body, making you shake against Dave. He helped you ride it out before you felt his hand in your neck as he pulled you towards him, crashing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. 

“When should I be here on friday?“ He asked and you smiled. 

Like every year, Calvin invited you for dinner for your anniversary in your favourite restaurant. 

Or more like, in the restaurant he thought was your favourite restaurant. 

He had given you the silent treatment since you decided to spend the evening with Dave instead of him, and you weren’t complaining. 

Something had changed since that night. You changed. 

He bought you a gift (a new vacuum cleaner, my god were you lucky), kissed you on the cheek and then ordered your dinner for you as soon as you sat down in the restaurant. 

You were quiet all evening, letting him vent about work and about how lucky he was to have you as his wife, smiling like the obedient little wife you were for him. 

Whenever he got up for a smoke, or to the bathroom or to order new drinks from the blonde bartender you reached for your phone, texting with Dave. 

It had been six days since you met him and the lust you were feeling for him was almost overwhelming. Maybe it had to do with you being sexually frustrated, but the way he talked to you made you want to be his good girl, eager to please him however you wanted to. 

He was very attentive, sending you gifts every single day while Calvin was in the office. You were working from home, surprised when Monday rolled around and a bouquet of red roses were delivered around lunch time. 

The next day it was a bracelet. 

The day after that lingerie. 

Part of you was overwhelmed with the attention you were receiving, while another part just wanted to let you enjoy it. 

You were rational, you knew whatever would happen with Dave York would not have a future. He wanted to fuck you, and you wanted to be fucked. Badly. 

And who were you to argue about your husbands boss being the one to fuck you brains out as a little… revenge?

You rolled your eyes as you saw the waitress slip Calvin his number after he went to pay. 

You had an AirBNB booked and most of your clothes and stuff already moved there yesterday. Earlier today you met with an divorce attorney. 

This was happening. 

You would be leaving him. Tonight. 

After he watched you being fucked by his boss. 

The only concern you had about the plan you set in motion was how you would make Calvin stay. But Dave had only told you that he’d make sure he would, not telling you how exactly he would achieve it. But you trusted him anyway. 

You had done a lot of thinking this last week. Maybe you had just needed someone to confide in, to tell you that you were worth more than being just a silly little wife. 

Healing from these last years would take a while, but you were ready to take your life back. 

Starting today.

You had told Dave that you would leave the backdoor unlocked, so you weren’t surprised when you found him sitting in the armchair next to your bed in the bedroom when you made your way upstairs after coming back home. 

Calvin was downstairs, picking a bottle of wine most likely in the hopes to get you drunk so he could try to get into your pants later. 

He tried this every year, some weird sense of martial duty coming over him. Not that he ever succeeded. 

And you had to give it to him, at least he did not spend your wedding anniversary fucking another pussy. 

“Hey,” Dave hummed, getting up as he walked over to you. 

“Hey,” you smiled, nerves kicking in as your head tilted down, watching your feet nervously. 

“You look beautiful,” he said and you couldn’t help but sigh. You had decided on a new dress, black, with a zipper in the front that ran down the whole length. You wanted do look pretty. 

For Dave.

You felt his fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes finding yours. 

“Are you still sure about this?” he asked. You took a deep breath before you nodded slowly. 

“Just… Just nervous. It’s been a while…. And…. I don’t know about him… here”

“We can get out of here. Just say the word and I’ll leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you brought a hand up, resting it on his chest. He covered your hand with his. 

“I want you to….” you pursed your lips, unable to say those words. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he whispered with a small grin. You nodded. 

“I want to fuck you too. Been thinking about your pussy since last week. Tasted so fucking good. You just need to decide if you want me to fuck you here, with your soon to be ex husband watching, or if I should take you to my place and make this pussy, my pussy, weep for me,” you felt his breath on your face as he whispered those words, your knees getting weak. 

“How… How about… both?” you finally asked with a shy little smile. 

He kissed you then, his lips pressing against yours for a quick but powerful moment. You whimpered. 

“Greedy,” he hummed with a smirk.

“Where is he?” Dave asked as he slowly led you to your bed. 

“Getting wine to make me drunk enough to fuck him,” you snorted and Dave rolled his eyes. 

You yelped when he pushed you against the mattress, hovering over you immediately, his eyes darkening. You parted your legs and he settled between them. Your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his weight on top of you.

“Pathetic little fucker,” Dave hissed before he kissed you again. 

You melted against him.

His tongue invaded your mouth, playing with yours, one of his hands running up your thigh.

“Dave,” you gasped, clutching the sheets as he kissed down your jaw. 

“You smell so fucking good,” he hummed, softly sucking on your neck. his fingers playing with the front zipper of your dress, pulling it slowly until the pink lace he had gifted to you was revealed beneath. 

“What the fuck is going on in here?” you heard a yell, following from a bottle shattering on the floor. Dave did not stop pulling at the zipper, his eyes on yours, until your bra was fully visible, the delicate lace hiding next to nothing. 

“I’m about to eat your wife’s pussy,” Dave said and you could not help but moan as he lowered his head, his lips kissing the soft skin above your tits. 

“You can’t… What the fuck…” Calvin cursed and you caught his eyes when he rounded the bed, now standing so he could look at you. 

“Sucks to be on the other side, huh?” you asked him, hearing Dave chuckle, before he pulled at the lace, his lips closing around your left nipple, making you arch your back against his chest. 

“You’re… you’re my wife,” Calvin argued and you moaned as Dave sucked. 

“Happy fucking anniversary,” you moaned, your hands unclenching from the sheets to bring them into Dave’s hair, pushing him against your tits. 

“I’m… I’m not gonna watch this,” Calvin said in disbelief, intending to turn around and leave.

“You sit right there on that chair and watch me fuck your wife, Miller,” Dave hissed, voice dangerously low, turning his head to look at Calvin who stopped in his tracks. 

You pussy clenched at his tone.

“Or what?” Calvin asked, not looking back. Dave found your eyes, kissing you quickly before he got up from the bed, walking over to Calvin. 

He leaned into him, whispering something against his ear. You saw Calvin clench his fists as he took a deep breath before he slowly turned around and walked over to the chair Dave had apparently put there just for him. 

Calvin’s eyes found yours and he clenched his jaw as he sat down. 

“Now, where were we?” Dave asked and you turned your head to look at him. Slowly he unbuttoned his dress shirt, pushing it off his shoulder, revealing his broad chest. Your eyes lingered all over his body, the prominent outline of his cock confided in his pants making your mouth water. 

Funny that just a week ago you had not missed sex at all, when now you could not wait for the man in front of you to ruin you. 

You sucked your bottom lip in as you looked up at him.

“Calvin, what was I about to do before you interrupted us?” he asked, his eyes not leaving your body. 

There was no answer, until a dark look came over Dave’s face, breaking eye contact to you only briefly to look at you husband. 

“You wanted to… eat my wife’s pussy,” he said quietly and Dave’s eyes lit up as he looked at you. 

“That’s right,” he said, before his hands wrapped around your ankles, pulling you down towards the end of bed. He leaned down, his hand pulling at the front zipper of your dress, parting the fabric. His lips following the zipper with every inch of your skin it revealed to him. 

“Like unwrapping a gift,” he said, kissing your stomach. He helped you get out of the dress, throwing it aside, before he got down on his knees, pulling each of your legs over his shoulders. 

Dark eyes found yours as he leaned closer towards your pussy, taking a deep breath. 

“When was the last time someone ate this pussy?” he asked, his fingertips coming to gently trace the pattern of the by now see through lace hiding your cunt from him. You were obscenely wet for the man kneeling between your legs. 

“Years,” you sighed. 

“Shame,” Dave tsked, kissing your inner thigh. You closed your eyes as his lips wandered up your thigh, almost to where you wanted him most when he kissed back down, starting the same pattern on your other thigh. 

“Dave,” you moaned. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in a silent challenge as he looked up at you. 

“Make me cum,” you said and he grinned.

“With pleasure.”

The moment Dave’s tongue slipped through your folds felt like the world shifted. He did not tease you, his tongue dipping inside of you while his nose moved over your clit had you moaning out wantonly. You fought the urge to throw your head back and close your eyes, keeping your eyes trained on the man who had you on the edge of an orgasm without even really having started. 

The moan coming from his mouth as he tasted you for the first time was downright pornographic and a memory you’d replay often in the future.

He moved his tongue between your folds before he went higher, his tongue flicking over your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, your hands hesitantly reaching for him, one of his hands grabbing your wrists, pulling them closer towards him, your fingers disappearing in his soft hair. You scratched your fingernails over his scalp and he sucked your clit between his lips with a groan. 

You were sure you were dripping on the sheets, your legs crossed behind his shoulders as you moved your hips against his mouth. 

“I’m close….” you whimpered, your lips parted as you panted for air, your eyes closing for a moment before they snapped open when Dave slapped your thigh. 

“Look at me when I make you cum,” he grunted. 

With your eyes trained on him, your hand in his hair and his mouth on you it wasn’t long before he made you cum, your thighs shaking around his head as he continued to lick you up, giving you by far the best orgasm of your life while you moaned out his name. 

He gave your pussy one last kiss, before he got to his feet.

“Ready for my cock?” he asked. 

Slowly you sat yourself up, getting on your knees on the bed in front of him, pulling him down towards you, so you could kiss him. Your hands found his belt, unbuckling it.

“How do you want me?” you mumbled against his lips, eager to have him inside of you. You felt his lips twitch into a smile against yours, his hands unclasping your bra behind you, pulling it off your shoulders. 

One of your hands finally slipped into his pants, pulling his cock out. 

You tried to play off your surprise, but Dave saw your eyes widening. He pecked your lips. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we gonna make it fit,” he winked.

You risked a glance down to his hard cock. He was not much bigger than your husbands, but much thicker. Precum pooled on the angry red tip, and you bent down before you could stop yourself, your tongue licking it off, moaning as you tasted him. 

“Fuck,” Dave moaned and you looked up at him, seeing his eyes fixed on you. 

You had his whole attention and you were loving it. 

“Some other time sweetheart,” he said warmly, one of his hands cupping your cheek.

“Now I want you on your back so I can watch those perfect tits shake when I fuck my pussy,” he said. You shivered before you slipped back towards the center of the bed. Dave took his pants, boxers and socks off before he joined you on the bed. You parted your legs for him as he came to kneel between them, his hand lazily pumping his cock. 

You had discussed protection in the week leading up to today, coming to know that Dave had a vasectomy years ago. With him getting tested regularly and you not having had sex with anyone in a long time you had given him the freedom to decide if he wanted to use condoms or not. 

A big part of you was happy he didn’t because you wanted to feel him. All of him. 

He nudged his tip against your folds, moving it over your clit repeatedly. He reached for a pillow, your husband's pillow, propping it under your hips.

“You’re dripping for me sweetheart,” he grinned. You sighed, your hands coming to play with your nipples. 

Slowly his tip slipped inside of you and you stopped breathing for a second, enjoying the delicious stretch of his length parting your folds. 

“Shit Baby…” you moaned, sucking your bottom lip in. 

Ever so slowly, giving you time to adjust his cock filled you.

“You’re so fucking wet. Perfect just… fuck just perfect,” he praised you, groaning when his hips met yours, his cock completely inside of you. 

You felt so fucking full. 

“Move,” you whined.

“You’re such a whore,” you heard another voice, your eyes blinking as you registered your husband's voice, having completely forgotten about him. 

You found Dave’s eyes on you before you turned your head to find Calvin obediently sitting in the chair Dave had pulled for him. 

You took a deep breath before you turned your head to look at Dave again. 

“At least I’m your whore then,” you said to Dave and he grinned before he bottomed out and thrusted back into you. You cried out. 

He snapped his hips against yours, his hands grabbing your hips as he pumped into you. You threw your arms back, grabbing the headboard. 

Sex had never felt like this. Yes, you did not have much to compare it to, but fuck that was what you missed? He ruined you, slowly, with every thrust inside of you, with every brush of his fingers on your body. He watched mesmerized as your tits shook with every thrust, before his arms pulled you up against him, into his lap, your chest against his. You crossed your arms behind him, your hands on his neck as he fucked up into you. His hands helping you move on top of him. 

“Whose pussy is this from now on?” he asked, his voice dark. 

“Yours Dave, fucking yours,” you moaned.

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, slapping your ass. Your pussy clenched around him and you watched him cock his eyebrow. 

“You like that huh?” he smirked, doing it again and you moaned. 

“Maybe you are my little whore after all,” he hummed against your ear, thrusting into you. He continued to slap your ass until you exploded around him, crying out as he fucked your through your orgasm. 

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside of you, warmth filling you as he moaned against your lips. 

Both panting against each other's lips you smiled, letting your hand fall against his, before he leaned down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, making you clench around his cock. 

“That… That never happened before…” you said and he frowned, looking up at you. 

“I never came when he fucked me,” you clarified and Dave’s jaw twitched before he kissed your lips. 

“I should kill that fucker for how he treated you,” he mumbled against your lips and for reasons you had to unpack at another time, the thought made you clench around him. 

“Interesting,” he mumbled, giving you a wink.

“You came inside of her? What the fuck?” you rolled your eyes back as you heard Calvin exclaim. 

“And he made me cum. Twice. Guess it was not my fault you couldn’t after all,” you said without looking at him. 

Dave chuckled, before he helped you off, his cum dripping into the sheets. He slipped his fingers between your legs, pushing his cum back into you, before he brought his fingers up, holding them out for you. You sucked them clean for him, moaning at your combined taste.

But as much as you wanted just to lay back and enjoy the afterglow, you did not want to spend any more time than necessary in this house. 

Dave helped you out of bed, helping you into your dress before he got back into his clothes, pocketing your ruined panties and bra. 

He gave you a small smile, taking your hand.

You walked towards the bedroom door when you stopped and turned around. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Calvin screamed behind you and Dave turned around faster than you could notice, his hand stopping Calvin’s wrist before he could reach you. He yelped in pain and Dave let go, stepping between you and your soon to be ex husband. 

You took a deep breath, putting a hand on Dave’s shoulder who looked at you over his shoulder. You gave him a small nod, before you stepped to the side, still close enough, so he could intervene. Calvin was still looking at Dave with what you think was terror in his eyes. 

“Did you think I would stay by your side while you fucked your way through the country forever? Humiliate me like that? I loved you. I wanted to spend my life with you, but you threw that away. And he helped me to see that. It’s embarrassing how long it took me. So we’re getting divorced, Calvin. You can keep the house and I keep my dignity. And my money,” you said. 

Calvin looked at you now, his eyes filling with tears. 

“Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice small. 

You took a deep breath, looking at the man you once loved so much. Feeling nothing. 

“Not anymore,” you said, giving him a small sad smile before you took Dave’s hand. 

Dave gave Calvin one last look before he grabbed your purse and led you out of the house.

[myluvrrhea]

Hello. I hope your doing well. I would like to request a Poly!Judgement Day x reader. Where reader isn't in the wwe but is a actress ( staring in whatever movie you choose ) and reader finds out she's been invites to a red carpet event and chooses to take everyone and once she gets there they take pictures and answer questions until a reporter asks her the " serious question " and she starts having an panic attack as the other reporters start ganging up on her and the Judgement Day end up saving her and comforting her. If you can't, that's completely understandable. Thanks :)

Silver soul

Pairings - Poly!The Judgment Day x Actress!Reader

Summary - you expected the premiere to be quick and convenient, what you didnt expect was The Judgment Day , one of the highest fractions in the WWE , to save you from an unexpected interview

Word Count - 0.4k

Feel free to request my reqs are open!!

Today had been a stressful day to say the least. Packing, makeup , dress shopping, had all been done to prepare for today. And to say you were nervous was an understatement. Not only that , but the people you had been eyeing would be there shortly after you arrived. And it made your heart beat faster every second.

Getting into the limo , you but your purse down as your bodyguards hopped into the vehicle.

You were heading to the premiere for a new movie you had starred in. Although you love acting , you were scared to show others , fearing the hurtful words and questions that would spew out of others mouths.

As the car parked in the front, your chofer opened the door for you while holding a hand out towards you. Grabbing his hand, you stepped out the car door watching as many cameras around you had flashed.

When arriving onto the red carpet, you posed for the pictures feeling all the attention on you. You hated but loved the feeling of attention. But what made your even more nervous, was feeling The Judgment Days eyes on you. The only reason they had been invited was because of their guest appearance in the movie. You all worked together and you could feel the chemistry between you and the four. You waved shortly after you went towards an interviewer.

But shortly after , you delt you had made a mistake even walking towards the interviewer. Not only were they  rude , but asked questions that were personal and uncomfortable.

“ So Y/N tell us has anyone been on you radar these past months , I know you and the actor A/Nhas been eyeing you lately,” one of them spoke in a tone that made a shiver go down your spine.

“Well I mean I don’t really-“ you were soon cut off by the other reporter. “ Cmon we know you have answer just tell us,” he spoke getting closer to you. You felt as if your lungs were collapsing. The air felt thick and it felt harder to breathe in. Just then you felt the presence of two strong arms wrapped around you. Looking behind you , you saw the face of Damian. He was the one who  entangled you in his arms as Rhea had spoken up.

“She’s busy sorry,” rhea narrowed her eyes as she continued “Not,”. You were then  lead to towards the theater. “ u-uh thank you guys..” you said feeling slightly nervous. They could feel your nervous as Finn spoke “Relax Lass, no need to be nervous , anyone from a mile away could see how uncomfortable you were,” He said as dominik kissed your forehead. You felt your cheeks warm up as you all sat down. You felt as if your mood had been instantly changed fron nervous to joy. And it was all because of the judgment day.

[lovestaysblogs]

I would love to see one with chan where they’re friends and she’s going on a date and he doesn’t want her too! Maybe a bit of angst/a mini fight but he ends up confessing and she reciprocates it would be so cuteee!! :)))

miscommunicated love

pairing: bang chan x reader word count: 1531 genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, unrequited (but not really) warnings: none network: @skzstarnet request by: @missvanjii

Sometimes you wonder if you deserve love. The red and white decor across town was a blur as the bus drove to your workplace. After twenty-four years of being single the holiday was just another day for you. It neither makes you happy nor sad. What you really yearned for was romantic love. No, a correction. Returned romantic love.

Your heels click clack upon entering your work building. A small smile is on your face as you say your greetings and sit at your cubicle, preparing yourself for the work day ahead of you. A message comes in from one of your friends, Chan. You don’t check it.

Three years ago you met Chan at a friend’s housewarming event. You became close to Haewon very quickly, even though she was your new coworker. And after numerous lunches and dinners, she became one of your best friends in this foreign country. Haewon told you about Chan before you two met. She emphasized how well you two would get along because you both were movie nerds. And that’s where it started.

This push and pull, the picking petals of roses, does he love me, does he love me not.

“We should see a movie together, since we both love them,” He joked.

I’m sure Haewon drilled into his mind that we must meet as well.

“Wait, I would actually be down for that if you’re serious,”

A shy smile crept on his face as he scratched the back of his head slightly nodding along to the idea, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He cleared his throat as he took your phone and punched in his number.

“I’m looking forward to it,”.

After you two finally made arrangements, you began to wonder. Is this a date?

You questioned Haewon.

“Well, are you guys going alone or did he invite another friend? What exactly did he say over text?”

And the spiral began. You were too nervous to ask Chan if it was a date, because what if it was and then he got weirded out that you couldn’t just pick that up from the first time or he thinks you don’t want it to be a date, when in reality you do and then he decides he no longer wants to go out with you.

If it is a date do you dress up? But what if it isn’t and then you just look awkwardly dressed up for nothing and he thinks you’re weird but what if it is and you don’t dress up and he thinks that you’re not interested.

Haewon tries to tell you that these spirals are nonsensical and that Chan’s a really sweet guy. You should just ask him. But that started another spiral.

You settled on a nice sweater with some jeans, minimal makeup. Casual but not too casual.

Chan smiled as you opened the door. “Wow, you look great!”

Your face warmed, maybe this was a date. “Thank you, so do you.”

“And you changed your hair,”

Right. Since the last time you saw him you recently put in braids. “Yeah, I did,”

During the ‘date’, you couldn’t help but notice how distant he was from you. He was nice enough to buy the tickets and the popcorn. But he spoke only when spoken to.

On the ride home you asked unwillingly just to confirm your fears, “Did… you want someone else to come with us?”

He looked taken aback, as if he didn’t expect you to ask this question.

“Uh did you?”

“I don’t know,”

After that awkward encounter, you made Haewon promise to never set you up with any of her friends again.

You and Chan talked more though. And you realized, he probably didn’t want to be on that date in the first place. You got along well as friends, to the point of where he can call and text you freely. Just like the text he sent today. Usually you guys’ friend group hang out on holidays but with this being Valentine's day and almost all of your friends being in a relationship, that most likely isn’t the plan for this day.

At work, you were very quiet. You did your work and went back home. Apart from Haewon, you didn’t really talk to anyone else. Which is why you were surprised during your break when Doyoung came up to you.

“Hi Y/N” He said.

You saw him around the office from time to time. You’re not from the same department but you frequently have had meetings together.

“Hi,” This was your first time talking to him directly.

“This might come off really rash, but are you free? Later?”

“I am, why?”

“Would you like to get dinner together? I know we don’t talk much but I do want to get you better and it doesn’t have to be anything serious even though it’s Valentine’s, I just want to–”

“Yes, I do.” You smiled at him nicely. “I would like that very much,”

He smiled back at you, “Great so I’ll pick you up at 7?.”

You nodded at him and he waved shyly before leaving. Your phone buzzed again. You forgot to check Chan’s message.

‘Hey Y/N, you free tonight?’ ‘Answer meee - - I know you have work but all of our friends are going out on dates. Soooo wanna hang?’

‘Can’t sorry T.T ! I have a date hehe’

‘Y/N don’t play around - -’

‘I’m not lol. Someone from work just asked me out and I said yes.’

‘Oh’

You couldn’t help but think about the tone of his message. He seemed upset. But he has no reason to be upset. You’re friends. And he made it clear that’s all you’ll ever be.

You pouted at yourself in the mirror as you redid your edges.

You wanted to be excited for this date. The possibility of new beginnings. Moving on. But it doesn’t seem likely with Chan in your life. Always wondering what could have been.

You were putting final touches on your makeup when you heard your apartment bell ring.

You saw Chan on the security camera.

“Chan?” You spoke through the intercom.

“Y/N can we talk?”

You let him up.

He was wearing his infamous black hoodie, paired with the matching beanie, trying to hide his unruly curls underneath.

“Why are you here Chan?” You said, “I’m not going to be here for much longer, I told you. I’m going out tonight,”

“Yeah I know your date.” He sighed before speaking again, “Do you really have to go though, I mean who is this guy? Does Haewon know him?”

“Why does all of that matter? We work together and he asked me out. I don’t have a Valentines, so I’m going. Simple,”

“But,”

“But nothing Chan. I really don’t see why you’re worked up about this.”

“I can’t help but get the sense you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. I’m confused and I’m frustrated and annoyed. Okay you know what I am mad at you. Who are you to come to my apartment, thirty minutes before my date and start question question me?”

“Who am I? Y/N what do you mean? Am I not special in your life? Do I mean nothing to you?”

“Chan I didn’t say that,” You breathed.

Your eyes locked together. He was pleading, begging you’d understand what he means. The true intent of his questions. Of him being there, without him saying it word for word.

“I don’t know what’s going on. With you. With our friendship –”

He sighed.

“What?” You questioned.

“You did it again.”

“What did I do?”

“Friendship?’

“Are we not friends? Chan this is getting ridiculous”

He said nothing.

“I am sick and tired of this Chan. You were the one that drew that boundary and now that I respect it and am desperately trying to move on, I’m the evil one? For not playing into the uncertainty and unambiguousness?”

“A boundary? What are you talking about?”

“The stupid movies. I don’t even know if it was a date but the first time we hung out one on one. I could tell you were only doing it because of Haewon and you were uncomfortable the whole time. You barely glanced at me. You barely spoke to me” You rolled your eyes.

“No. God I’m so stupid. Y/N I was so nervous. I could barely look at you because I didn’t know what to say. And then you brought up if I wanted to invite someone else, I couldn’t help but think I bombed our first date and ruined my chance at getting a second.”

“Wait so,”

“I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry.”

“Well, I like you too you idiot,”

He looked up with a small smile on his face, “Does this mean you won’t go on that date,”

You returned his smile and locked your hands around his neck, “I cancelled it from I let you up here. Even if this didn’t go the way it did, I would not be able to go on a date with someone else after seeing you,”

“Y/N I promise you, I’ll do better,”

“I will too,”.

a/n:

reblogging helps writers so if you really liked it please reblog !

hihi:) finally got the motivation and courage to reread this, edit this and post it, even though i didn't like it very much. thank you so so much for the request!! i appreciate it and trust i will start working on your minho request too. thank you guys for following and reblogging my work. like you don't understand, every reblog makes me so happy. so if you like this, please reblog and comment. it'll make my day!! i'm not doing the best mentally so i apologize that fics are not just coming out so frequently, but i'm trying. i've talked for too long. i wish y'all love and happiness your way!! 🥹🫶💗

[bloompompom]

Playthings

One Shot

Pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

Summary: okay, maybe you could admit you were a little sexually frustrated after a long semester, but it wasn’t your fault that you accidentally walked into the wrong room. and you’d only take some of the blame after you shamelessly came crawling back for more.

Word Count: ~6.8k

Content: explicit sexual content, explicit language, caught masturbating, casual sex, rough sex, dirty talk, porn watching, face fucking, some degradation and objectification, praise kink, quiet sex, panties as a gag, mentions of spit

all that to say, reader discretion advised. this is just a porno. if you were looking for plot, we don’t know her here

It started out normal, just like you had anticipated. Why wouldn’t it be normal? After all, it was just a regular, old Tuesday afternoon. The only thing that made it any more remarkable was that you didn’t have class today. Your professor was gracious enough—in her words, not yours—to cancel today’s session.

Her email included a not-so-gentle reminder, in bold lettering, that your presentations were due on Thursday. She hoped you’d all be smart enough to use this ‘found time’ to make any last-minute adjustments.

You would have much preferred to be dumb, at least by her standards, and squeeze in a nap, just like the rest of your classmates. But, no. You had to use this time to scramble to the finish line because just maybe you thought you had another week before it was due.

You weren’t entirely at fault, though. You were absolutely swamped with school with the end of the semester drawing near. It wasn’t just you, either. The other members of your group—four of you in total—were scraping the bottom of their reserves to try and finish this presentation. You all had other classes that called for more of your limited time and energy—you know, ones that actually pertained to your majors, none of which had anything to do with literature.

Who would have guessed that an introduction—extra emphasis on that word—to fiction class could be so much work? So much for your supposedly guaranteed easy A. It was a general elective, damn it! It served no other purpose than to tick that little box next to your degree requirement. Yes, I have three literature credits, and I read the books to prove it.

Well, half-read. Skimming, to put it nicely. Sorry, Wuthering Heights, for the bastardized synopsis that you were about to present.

All of which was to say, that was how you found yourself here, huddled together on this Tuesday afternoon, noses buried deep into your respective laptops, as you tried to put together a halfway decent presentation.

It was a warm day. You could tell even from inside. It was the kind of day where the sun clung to your body like a sheet, begging you to stay just a little longer to enjoy the afterglow. You wanted to listen, but you were forced to take turns lounging in front of the fan, stuttering as it only pretended to cool the room.

Your patience grew thinner by the minute, with every cramp and crack of your fingers and bead of sweat that threatened to drip down your back.

This semester, though almost over, was starting to feel like one of those classic scenes you’d find in horror movies. You know the scene: when the protagonist gets trapped in a closet-sized room that slowly fills with water. It was sort of like that, in which this dumb literature class had you gasping for your final breaths of air. And to top it all off, you had another group book report due. How old were you again?

“Sasha!”

You heard Jean hiss just across from you, interrupting the furious sound of clicking keyboards. You turned to look at him, past the coffee table that was decorated with empty energy drink cans and loose chips.

Sasha poked her head up from her laptop, looking innocent as Jean continued, “All your slides say, ‘Weathering Heights.’ Did you even read the book?”

“No, I didn’t! You know that!” she defended, sounding only slightly panicked.

You could see her edits as she made them, your eyes following across the screen. She corrected her slides to ‘Wuthered Heights,’ and you swore you could see the steam pouring from Jean’s ears. The only thing Sasha knew about any of your assigned readings was what she could find on Wikipedia—maybe less than that.

To your other side, Armin let out a lengthy sigh. “Let’s leave the editing to those that read the book. Okay, Sasha?” She looked defeated, even when he kept his voice soft, so he chipped in again. “Maybe you can… get us more snacks?”

That seemed to cheer her up enough. She offered him a salute and an, “On it, boss,” as she skittered off to the kitchen.

You had been sitting on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, for the last two hours, and your legs were starting to feel every minute of it. You extended them, one at a time, and listened to the embarrassingly-loud pop of your knees.

On that note, you planted your palms into the rug, pushing yourself to your feet as you asked Armin where to find the bathroom. He pointed you in the right direction, just down the hallway. With each step, you felt the stretch of your legs, and from behind, you heard Jean yelling again.

“You’re seriously ordering pizza?”

Even though you had only met them this semester, it was easy to guess he was scolding Sasha again. It was nothing more than happenstance that you sat next to them that day, the trio that seemed to know each other outside of class. When you were instructed to find groups of four, you were roped in with them in the chaos that was partnering up, always comparable to flocking birds.

You did well enough on that assignment, even with Sasha barely skating by, so you figured you might as well work on the next project together. They were the sort of people you could laugh—loud and hard—with, which probably explained why you were fussing over this presentation now, less than forty-eight hours before its due date.

First door on your right. That’s what Armin said, right?

No, that wasn’t what he said, actually. And you learned your mistake the hard way, too, immediately after opening the door.

Context clues alone, it was easy to guess that you didn’t walk into the bathroom. Of course, you didn’t walk into the bathroom. That would have been too easy, wouldn’t it? No, you walked into Armin’s roommate's room. You didn’t even know he had a roommate, let alone one you could walk in on, phone in one hand, his thing in the other. It didn't feel right to say it if you weren't supposed to see it.

“Oh my God, I’m—” You were so flustered you didn’t even utter the word ‘sorry’ before slamming the door shut again, which was probably for the best.

Your heart was pounding—you felt it echoing hard in your throat—when you looked just across the hall. The door was open and, lo and behold, it was the bathroom.Empty and dark.

You hid inside it, your back pressed against the door. You were mortified—hot with it, too. The apartment was already balmy with sticky spring air, leaving you flushed in all the wrong places as you debated running from the apartment, never to return.

You still had to pee, so you did that, spinning through every emotion all the while—like one of those ridiculously-large gameshow wheels you had to spin with both hands. Tick, tick, tick… tick. Suddenly, you were berating yourself. First door on the left. You’re such an idiot! Spin again. Tick, tick, tick… tick. The wheel stopped, and you shifted the blame. Shouldn’t he have known Armin had company over?

You stayed put on the toilet like there weren’t people waiting on you back in the living room. You were still thinking about him. That guy across the hall. What else were you supposed to think about? It wasn’t like you could go back out there as if it were still some regular, old Tuesday.

For obvious reasons, you didn’t see much of him. The image in your head was more like a photograph captured by a shaky hand. He was a blur of brown hair. White on top, black bottoms, cut in half by a tanned midsection that you only caught a glimpse of—right before he grabbed his blanket and you retreated to the bathroom.

If you thought hard enough—and embarrassingly, you did—you could see it again. See him again, with his hand wrapped around himself.

It was so wrong to think of him, a stranger, like that. There was a burning pit in your stomach when you thought of the indecency of it, fantasizing about someone in their most vulnerable state, without their permission.

You couldn’t help it, though. Just like how you couldn’t help the way your thighs clenched together the longer you thought about it.

The image you created in your mind was much lewder than what you had actually witnessed. While you couldn’t even pick his face out of a line-up, you still imagined his lips, how he’d bite into them as he pumped his cock through his climax. Toned legs, revealed by his pants that he had only tugged to his knees because, in the heat of it, he couldn’t be bothered to take them off fully.

You wiped again because you were getting shamefully wetter with every passing second. Then, for some insane reason, you felt the urge to apologize to him. Surely, that was the only solution to make this less awkward; you had yourself fully convinced of it for a split second.

You still didn’t know what came over you, but you pocketed your underwear before pulling your shorts back up. They almost didn’t fit, what with how small your shorts were, but you made it work.

You washed your hands, thinking that, admittedly, this wasn’t one of your brightest ideas. Your cotton shorts would unavoidably slip to the side if you were to return to your spot on the rug. But if this went the way you were hoping it would, you wanted to be thoughtful enough to grant easy access.

Then, if he needed a helping hand—pun intended—you would slip him your underwear, as if that were any less shameless than saying the words, ‘I would like you to fuck me now. If you’re interested, of course.’

It was in that same split second that you knocked on the door. The one just across the hall. The first door on the right. His door.

You wouldn’t call yourself naive, even in the slightest. You knew that by knocking on his door, you were risking the chance of something happening. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t just have your panties shoved into your pocket for no good reason.

Your confidence started to wane, and it was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. The timing was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it? It was as if the sound of your knuckles against the wood dragged you back to reality.

The door opened before you could even think of something to say. You should have had it planned out more, considering you spent the last five minutes contemplating your existence on the toilet. You were immediately consumed with how weird this was—how weird you had made it, just by showing your face again.

You found him a bit dazzling, looking up at him gave you the same feeling as when you stared into a bright light for too long. You blinked just the same, too, as if he had you seeing stars. Or you were going to pass out from humiliation.

It wasn’t like you were meeting under normal circumstances. You didn’t casually run into him at a bar, though you would have much preferred spilling your drink on him to whatever this was. You were only reminded of what happened when you noted that his cheeks were still stained pink. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else—like the telling blush of arousal—you weren’t sure.

All the same, he reduced you to nothing more than a moony teenage girl. You were fixed on his eyes. Green, but you were unable to distinguish the shade because you were lost in him again—the version of him you created in your head. You wanted to see if that version truly existed; how he’d look when he came from your touch instead of his own.

Your voice was mangled and lost in your throat. Like an opossum, it was just as if you had summoned him only to play dead at his feet. You tried not to crumble—swallowing your saliva that ran thick—even when he stuck his head out into the hallway, looking around as if he were on an episode of Punk’d.

He asked, “Is this some kind of joke?” to no one in particular, but he spoke like he really wanted to ask, ‘Where the fuck did this chick come from?’

“No, no!” you tried to assure him with the frantic wave of your hands. The flightiness in your voice only made you more nervous because now he knew you were nervous. You found just enough sense to introduce yourself, slowing your voice as you explained, “I’m working on a project with Armin.”

You could see it in his eyes, the fleeting second that it clicked for him. It didn’t last long, though. His brows were quick to furrow again because that still didn’t explain why you were here. Why you had just walked in on him—

“Can I come in?” you asked. You were looking for any sliver of reassurance in his answer. Something to help you decide whether or not you were going to hand him your panties.

This all sounded so absurd, didn’t it? Like something out of a bad porno—probably no different than the one you caught him watching.

He didn’t look sold on the idea, still eyeing you like this was all part of an elaborate prank. Even so, you could tell that, at the very least, his curiosity was piqued. He eventually stepped aside, holding the door open for you, like he had no other choice but to entertain the idea.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you said as you made your way inside. You heard him close the door behind you, and you tried not to infer any meaning from it. He walked past you, placing himself between you and the bed. “For earlier.”

“Okay.”

There was a prickle of awkwardness. You felt yourself shrinking when you muttered, “And for this, I guess.”

You couldn’t read his expression. It was like he wanted you to get out but also… not? He looked at you the way one would look at an abstract painting. Like he was trying to get you, as if you were open to his interpretation.

Then again, you did just show up at his door, practically begging for more after stealing only a glimpse at his cock. He probably found you desperate and, right now, you weren’t above admitting that you were.

He looked at you like he was still trying to figure you out, as if it were possible from just a single look. His eyes didn’t carry the same boredom they did when he first opened the door, and the pink sheen on his cheeks had disappeared, too, telling you embarrassment must have been its cause.

He surely didn’t look embarrassed anymore. He sat on the corner of his bed, one leg bent at the knee and resting beside him, and the other hanging off the side. It was like you were sharpening the image you had in your head the longer you looked at him. You could see now that he was dressed in a white tee—covering his midsection this time—and a pair of black basketball shorts. His brunette hair was messily tied back in a way that had you wondering if it was ever neat to begin with.

Something about the sight didn’t sit right with you, even if all the parts you wanted to see were covered and forbidden. It was the sort of look that was too intimate to be shared between strangers, and more like something that had to wait for a second date, at least.

But you weren’t sure why you were thinking like that in the first place.

Much to your dismay, you were still fidgeting. It made you sound even more squirrely as you said, “That’s it, I guess.”

You didn’t need to say it. You could have just excused yourself after your flimsy apology. But you were still interested—and only because you knew he was still interested. It was apparent to you because, from this angle, you could see he was still hard. There was no way he was wearing any boxers.

And just as poorly as he tried to hide it, you failed to hide the way you let your eyes linger there. It was hard—no pun intended this time—not to. There was a lot going through your head, but the most blaring sign, flashing in big lights, told you this was about to become the best mistake you had ever made.

It was only confirmed when he said, “I don’t know if you are.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t look very sorry to me.” His eyes, now darkened, looked you up and down, only once, like he was sizing you up. “How about you come here and show me just how sorry you really are.”

There was a newfound gravel to his voice. You could feel it in your chest, thumping just around your racing heart. It lured you to him.

He talked like he knew how to fuck, and you really, really needed a good fuck—as if it could unburden you from a semester’s worth of stress. Where else were you going to find such a sinfully hot guy, hard and already riled up, like he was put here just to (fingers crossed) fuck you senselessly into his mattress.

You thought of the underwear that was still in your pocket. Before you could decide what to do with it, he beat you to it, like he knew it was there all along. He gave you a smile, one that said he had only let you think you were in control.

'How silly of you,' was what it sounded like when he said, “That’s what I thought.”

He balled the dainty fabric in his hand before tossing it aside. He seemed much more interested in you—taking you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap. He was strong. You could tell just by the way he held onto you, like he could bend and break you if he pleased.

The strength in his hands alone was enough for you to brush off the cockiness in his voice. But even more, you felt how badly he wanted this—perhaps even more than you did—in his touch, like fire underneath his fingertips. Not that it surprised you, of course. He was the one fisting his cock not even ten minutes ago.

But now, it was like you had dropped straight from heaven and right into his lap, quite literally. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the heat between your legs pressed up against his cock, you caught the beautiful groan he let slip.

You ground against him helplessly, letting yourself feel every inch of him through his shorts. His hands, resting on the tops of your thighs, dug into the plush of them as he dragged you over him. It was enough to pull a whine from you—even louder once he placed a hand on your back, flattening against it to pull you into him. You collided, his mouth on your neck. He made quick work of the delicate skin like he knew exactly where you liked to be kissed and where he should bite.

He didn’t shush you, but it lurked in your mind that his friends were just on the other side of his bedroom wall. But he didn’t seem to care, even with all your whimpers as he continued kissing your neck. He stayed there for a long time before ever kissing your mouth. Not that you could complain. You were lost in the delirious feeling of his lips, hot and wet, trailing down the side of your throat, dipping down to the spot near your collarbone that had you squirming already.

You wanted your shorts off, but you knew it would be difficult from this position. He knew it, too, which was why he told you, “Stand up,” between his nibbles at your ear lobe.

You did as you were told and stood just between his legs. His hands smoothed over your hips, taking your shirt along with him. He was at eye level with your bare stomach, leaving kisses there. One at a time, he replaced his hands with yours, having you hold your shirt up for him. You watched as he slowly inched off your shorts, kissing everywhere—your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs—but the place you needed him most. When you felt your shorts at your ankles, he pulled you right back onto his lap, like he thought you belonged there.

The only thing separating you was his thin basketball shorts. You wanted to undress him next, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, with his fingertips tickling up your thighs. He only stopped to slip a teasing finger along the crease. You giggled at it, and it was the first time he heard your laugh. The sound was swallowed up by him, the unexpected plush of his lips now on yours. You liked them better here—on your mouth.

He kissed with just as much passion as you imagined, with his hand—the one that wasn’t tickling between your legs—cupping your jaw. He held you close, his tongue brushing past your lips to meet yours. You were really lost in him now, your hips aimlessly searching for his fingers—for anything.

You separated an inch, just for him to whisper to you, “I want you to get yourself off on my fingers first.” He tilted his chin down with unspoken gentleness. In the same cadence one would use to ask for permission, he asked, “Can you do that for me?”

He waited for you to nod, looking more like a bobblehead because if he didn’t touch you soon you might die. He rubbed your clit with languid circles, watching how you twitched when he grazed over a certain spot. When he quickened his touch, you collapsed your weight into his chest. It left you in the prime position to bite down on his shoulder, just to stifle your moans, as he dipped a finger inside you.

Already, there was a bubble, as hot as an iron, brewing low in your stomach. You rolled your hips in rhythm with the pumping of his fingers—now a second one inside you—with the heel of his palm adding pressure perfectly against your clit.

You tossed your head back when you came, another cry escaping past your lips. It was loud enough that he finally reacted to it, silencing it only by shoving something soft into your mouth. When you opened your eyes again, you recognized the black fabric of your underwear.

You were still riding out your orgasm—drool soaking through your panties—or else you would have taken them from your mouth. Instead, you kept your hands occupied by digging the blunt of your nails into his arms, looking for any sense of stability before you went limp in his arms.

“You gotta be quieter than that if you want to come again,” he told you. You only acknowledged it with another needy whimper.

He held you upright in his lap before laying you on the mattress beside him, like you were nothing more than a plaything. But you were fine with that. You wanted to be his plaything, just for now.

You went to take the underwear from your mouth, but he stopped you just before with his hand around your wrist.

“Promise you’ll be quiet for me?” he asked, his voice dulcet. You nodded, again like a bobblehead, and he took the panties from your mouth. He let his thumb caress over your cheek as he said, “Good.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. You ogled at what you could before he crawled over you, placing a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, following yours as you trailed your hand down the length of his body. You let them dawdle over his toned stomach before palming over his cock, which you hoped to see again very soon. You felt him twitch from just your hand alone, and it had you wondering how sensitive he’d be to your tongue.

When your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, you began shimming lower so you could take him into your mouth. He stopped you just short of freeing his length. You looked up at him, big-eyed and curiously, because what guy could possibly turn down a blow job?

He was back on his feet, towering over you as he stood at the side of the bed. He was quick to find his phone, and when he unlocked it, you heard the muffled sounds of whatever porn he had been watching.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to see whatever it was he wanted to show you. He took your interest as an okay to show you the screen. On it was a woman, stretched on her back, with her head dangling from the bed. There was a man fucking her throat, garbling her wanton moans as he fingered her.

“I want you to do it for me just like this,” he told you before throwing his phone aside. It was useless to him now; he had the real thing. His hands found you again, the warmth of your stomach. His fingers slipped higher underneath your shirt. “Think you can handle that?”

You were beyond turned on by the thought of him stroking himself to this video earlier. Now, here you were—once again, straight out of heaven—like you were made just to fulfill his fantasies. But, God, the thought of him ruining you had you aching.

You answered him by stripping from your shirt. Your bra next, undoing its clasp and tossing it aside, all in one swift motion. You would gift him with the lovely sight—your body in its entirety—as you sucked him off.

But before that, he wanted you. Just a little taste.

He leaned over you, kissing between your breasts and everywhere else that he could. You felt the heat of his breath on your nipple, just before he took it into his mouth. His tongue was hot as he flicked at it, sucking until he had your back arching, with mewls spilling from your lips.

He kept you there, only for a moment, and only long enough that he could leave his mark on you. When he was finally satisfied with the number of love bites he had decorated you with, he rolled you around until you mimicked the woman in the video, your mouth gaping for him and everything. You even lolled your tongue out, eager to please a man you had just met—more importantly, a man that just made you come and planned to do so again very soon.

One of his hands was at your face, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin beneath your chin. He ran his thumb over your tongue, letting you give it a coquettish lick. He used his other hand to yank down his shorts, all the way off this time.

You were right when you guessed he wasn't wearing boxers. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping his abdomen, before he took it in his hands. He pumped himself twice, and when he lined himself up with your mouth, you wondered if it was the angle or if you were truly going to struggle to take him fully.

He ran the tip over your lips. You wetted them for him, making it easy for him to slip into your mouth. He groaned at the feeling—even sharper when you hollowed your cheeks around him, and that was only the head. He was just as sensitive as you had hoped.

You could feel his restraint when he pushed deeper into your throat, like he was painfully aware of the fact that you were completely at his mercy. You encouraged him, offering a few moans with every thrust. He used the first few as a test, like he wanted to make sure you could really take it, then he pulled out of your mouth with a conspicuous popping sound. There was even a cliche string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck—that’s so hot,” he muttered, his voice so raspy that it was almost missing. It was the first break in his composure, along with the shudder he let rip through his body.

You met his eyes again, staring up at him as you patiently wait for him to give you more. He rewarded your obediency by ramming his cock back into your mouth, gaining speed with every rock of his hips. It only took a couple more before you felt him at the back of your throat.

“I knew you could—ah—do it for me, pretty girl.” His voice was encouraging, like you could hear the swell of his heart. It was sweeter than any sonnet, having you melt even as he fucked your face until you felt tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

It was clear he was loving it, with how his hands went heavy as he slid them down your stomach. How his abs went tight every time you gagged on his cock. Even from upside down, with loose hairs casting over his lidded eyes, you still found him beautiful.

What a strange thing to say, considering he continued to brutalize your swollen mouth. All the same, he had you rubbing your legs together as if you were in heat, but it only left your thighs sticky with your slick.

He leaned over you, helping you out by reaching between your legs in search of your clit again. You heard him curse again, just under his breath. Whether it was from your cries—suffocated by his cock—or just how wet you were for him, you weren’t sure. The only thing you knew was that if he kept this up, you were bound to come undone again any second.

He must have felt it, too, because all at once, he pulled out from your mouth. It left you coughing like you suddenly remembered how to breathe again. Still, you mourned the loss of his fingers.

He caught the pout on your lips. It shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did, even as he teased, “Such a needy one, aren’t you?” He ran his fingers over your mouth like he could wipe away the frown. “You’re far too precious to suffocate.”

You whined at that, and you would have found it embarrassing if you weren’t so desperate, practically begging him to fuck you—now—with the kittenish way you rolled around until you were on your back.

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieved a condom and tore open its package, his attention never leaving you once. He looked pleased by it—your eagerness—how you spread your thighs only to keep him caged between, with your legs draped over the side of the bed. The smile at the corner of his lips still hadn’t faded.

You could only watch him, mesmerized as he rolled the condom over his length—impressive enough that you felt proud to have had all of it down your throat just a moment ago.

He knew you were there to give him exactly what he wanted. And when he cajoled you with, “Hold them for me—like this,” he knew you’d listen.

He lifted each of your thighs and pressed them into your chest. With your knees nearing your shoulders, you knew what to do next. You wrapped your hands around the backs of your legs and held them in place for him.

“That’s it,” he cooed, taking you by the waist and setting you farther back onto the bed. “Look how pretty.”

He walked his hands up either side of you until crawled onto the bed, hovering just above you with his weight shifted back to his knees. He guided himself to your entrance with one hand, letting the tip of the condom slip between you, teasing your clit just enough to have you pull in a harsh breath through your nose.

“So fucking pretty—” He pushed himself inside you. There was little resistance, like you had turned to putty and were somehow able to mold yourself to take him perfectly. Your head pressed deeper into the mattress, with him kissing up the expanse of your leg, just above your ankle. “—and all for me.”

You felt him flush against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit in just the right way. You fought the urge to lock your legs around him to keep him there, your voice nothing more than a whisper when you begged, “Fuck—don’t stop.”

He took you then. Madly, recklessly, agonizingly—whatever you wanted to call it—it was a frenzied mess of limbs and lips, sweat and sheets, flesh and groans. It was all of the best parts of being tangled up in someone. You wanted him, every bit of him, to taste and to touch, as if he wasn’t already as close to you as humanly possible.

He groaned in your ear, his breath fanning the side of your face. Like he could read your thoughts, he told you, “I want to feel you.” He dragged his cock from you, slowly, then punctuated his next statement with the snap of his hips, forcing you even higher onto the bed. “I want to fuck you raw.”

The words alone were enough to have you teetering over the edge again, but you were practically a babbling mess at the sound of his voice—all strangled as he nearly begged for it. The only thing you could manage now was a breathless chant of please, please, please.

After the third one, he looked at you more seriously. You found it cute, how his brows hung pensively over his eyes. It was much more boyish and suited his face more. “Birth control?”

You still didn’t have enough oxygen in your lungs to form anything more than, “The pill.”

“Clean?” he asked next. He sat back on his knees, waiting until you nodded. “Me too.”

Only then did he roll off of you. He moved to sit on the bed with his back to the headboard. Even after all that, his arms were still steady as he lifted you. In one swoop, you were back on his lap—so effortlessly that he had you believing you belonged there now, too.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him to your chest because you missed having his lips there. He didn’t fight it, letting his tongue and lips and teeth explore every inch of you, his face smushed in your tits.

You let him continue long enough for him to ditch the condom. You reached down, stroking him a few times with your hand. He reacted to it—what a gift it was that there was nothing separating you again—with a hard inhale just through his nose.

You held him at the base to guide his cock inside you. As leisurely as one would stroll through the park—as if you had all the time in the world to stop and smell the roses, wait for every groan that bubbled at the back of his throat—you sank onto his cock. It gave way for another break in his cool composure.

You watched it as it happened—the very look, right as it skipped across his irises. It was followed by a breathless sound, one that lived somewhere between a chuckle and gasp, that slipped past his slack-jaw smile.

You couldn’t help but smile, too, thinking he looked drunk off the feeling—even more once you sat high again only to crash back onto him. Then again, and again. Quicker and quicker, until you were bouncing on his cock with your hands flattened against the headboard for support.

He reached a different angle in this position, deeper, and it had you almost trembling above him. He let you continue to use him, anyway you wanted, admiring where he disappeared inside you.

As if you weren’t the one controlling your fingers, you let your hand slip between your legs to aid your release. You felt all your blood rush to your face, flooding you with sweltering heat, and it became a challenge to keep your hips from sputtering.

Your only focus was on your high—like you had become dumb to anything else—and it was quickly approaching. Your shaky breaths melted into choked sobs just as he pushed two fingers, index and middle, into your mouth.

He pressed down on your tongue. “You don’t want them to hear you like this, do you?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and dedicated only to him, as you sucked his fingers instinctively. He smirked at you when he said, “Pathetic, little thing.”

You came again. Your orgasm crashed over you, with every muscle shaking and tensing before you could barely even hold yourself up anymore.

His finger left your mouth. They were wet, dribbling spit along your cheek, as he held your face in his hand. He turned you to look at him when he said, “What do you say?”

Almost like you had said it a million times before, you didn’t hesitate to murmur, “T-thank you.”

He hummed, “You’re such a good toy.”

He sunk down into the bed, his head now on the pillows. He grabbed your hips with bruising force, just before you could fall pliant over him. As if to say, ‘Now it’s my turn,’ he held you still while he fucked up into you, his feet planted firmly into the mattress.

He couldn’t stop your sounds this time. They spilled freely from you, even as you bit your lip so hard you must have drawn blood, still sensitive from your orgasm as he pounded into you. It nearly had you seeing stars, like you were blind from the pleasure of letting him have you.

He was close, you could hear it in his erratic breaths just before he grunted, “You gonna let me come in you? Shit—you want me to fill you up?”

“Yes—” you whined.

“Yes, what?”

“I want you to come in me—please!”

He didn’t let up. His thrusts were still just as unrelenting as he looked up at you sardonically. “You wanna go back out there with my come dripping from you?”

All you could too was give him a slurred, ‘hmmph!’

“So dirty. You’re gonna make a mess of yourself.” He snapped his hips a few times like he could bury even deeper into you. It brought out a certain gruff in his voice as he told you, “Don’t think that I’m giving back those panties.”

It took just one more buck of his hips, hitting just the right spot, for him to nearly knock out your last breath. You collapsed onto him, your bodies sticky with sweat, as you nestled your face into the crook of his shoulder. You were within perfect earshot of listening to his sharp grunts as he came.

His last few thrusts were languid. Long and slow strokes like he wanted to draw out the feeling. You couldn’t even open your eyes, let alone hold onto a single coherent thought, before you whispered, “Thank you.”

The thought of you thanking him for his come pulled another groan from him. You felt his cock jolt inside you. If he hadn’t just given you everything he had, you were sure he’d be hard again.

You didn’t know where your clothes were, and you couldn’t be bothered to care. You laid beside him, each of you on your backs, with chests as heavy as anvils as you gathered your tattered breaths.

You looked over at him, and he was already looking back at you. It was a moment of stillness. His eyes weren’t as dark as they once were—sort of like he was a different person. You couldn’t help but think he looked perfect like that.

He sounded different, too. Almost embarrassed. You heard it in the hint of a chuckle he offered, just at the end, when he asked, “What did you say your name was again?” You gave him your name, and he repeated it once to himself. “Got it. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Next time?”

“You think I’m gonna fuck you like that then just let walk out of my life? No fucking way.” That smile was back—the big one he showed you when you learned he liked when you sat on his cock slowly.

You laughed a little, mirroring some of his bashfulness, as reality started to sink in. You finally confessed, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s Eren.”