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lilxberry · 3 years

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Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao.

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

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You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

_______________

I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere

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edelweissluh · 2 years

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tommygrace x cowboy like me

I’ve been lurking peakytwt and the tommygrace x taylor swift folkmore pipeline is real but why haven’t I seen anything about how cowboy like me is THE s1 tommygrace song?? They’re all I think about when I listen to the lyrics. Yes, the song is about two literal con-artists falling in love. But are s1 tommygrace not con-people by definition? You can interpret con-artists as people who deceive others for their own gain. Tommy deceives people by rigging races and making shady deals and Grace deceives Tommy and the Peaky Blinders by working undercover.

Most of the lines suit them so well. Let me take you almost line by line of what and how cowboy like me reminds me of tommygrace.

“And you asked me to dance but I said, "Dancing is a dangerous game"

This is an obvious one. When Tommy asks Grace to dance for the first time. A pivotal scene that highlights their growing attraction for one another. Dangerous: for him for falling for someone in spite of himself and her, for falling for the enemy.

“I've got some tricks up my sleeve/Takes one to know one/You're a cowboy like me/ You’re a bandit like me”

One of the main themes of the song I interpreted was the narrator recognizing trickery and deceit (negative characteristics) in another person but in a warm and comforting way (positive). Kind of like she’s met her match but in a way where she doesn’t feel alienated from the high society around them and doesn’t need to pretend anymore. Similarly, reciprocity and feeling seen are the main tommygrace motifs: “Now you’ve seen me.” “And, you’ve seen me.”/ “I found you and you found me.”/ “We know each other. We’re the same.”

“Never wanted love just a fancy car/ Now I'm waiting by the phone”

Tommy never wanted to fall in love since the war, he just wanted to make a lot of money! Cut to: Tommy in S2 pondering over Grace’s letter, wondering if he should call her.

“Eyes full of stars, hustling for the good life/Never thought I'd meet you here, it could be love”

S1 Tommy was so hopeful (eyes full of stars), working his ass off to go legitimate and unexpectedly meeting barmaid Grace!

“And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up//We could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it”

Their skeletons (or baggage) were initially in the way of acknowledging their feelings. Her vengeful mission and his wartime PTSD. Despite this, Tommy and Grace accept the love they have but like the narrator, they figuratively pay for it. Grace by having to betray the man she loves and Tommy, by being betrayed by the woman he loves.

“And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one/ And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town”

A nice parallel of Inspector Campbell loving Grace and the high-status women who fawn over and fetishize Tommy.

“Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon/With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con”

My favourite lines. It reminds me of tommygrace’s first night together and with Grace dying so soon after their wedding, forever really was their sweetest con. (To me, this line meant that forever can’t be promised, even in a wedding vow, but it is a lie meant with the sweetest intentions.)

“You're a cowboy like me, and I'm never gonna love again”

Some people interpret this line to mean that the two con-artists have stopped conning and will never love another because they are together now. However, I took it to mean that the man left such a significant mark that the narrator will never love again even if he leaves (or cons) her. Tommy never falls in love again after Grace first betrays him and after her death.

All in all, cowboy like me is my favourite song from Folklore+Evermore and the love story about two con-artists unexpectedly falling in love reminded me of Season 1 tommygrace, my favourite season. Sonically, the song even sounds like a tune that could play in a 1920s British gangster drama and both depict social class themes! Also you can’t convince me Tommy Shelby can’t be considered a cowboy every time he pulls up on his horse!!!

Thanks for reading up until now! I’ve always wanted to do an analysis of my two favourite things and with this season being the last, this is also my little love letter to tommygrace and Peaky Blinders <3

*gif credits to owners*

#first long post??#mine #tommy x grace #tommy and grace #peaky blinders #taylor swift #cowboy like me #grace shelby #peakyb #thomas shelby #tommygrace

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takerfoxx · 3 years

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What Your Favorite Puella Magi Madoka Magica Ship Says About You

Inspired by DoubleCa5t's series, and since we're probably going to get an official video sooner or later, I'm putting my version out while I can.

Also, this is all in good fun, so don't take any teasing seriously.

...

MadoHomu (Madoka X Homura)

You are a firm believe in the inherent eroticism of this image.

You have episode ten memorized.

You have a very specific emotional reaction to “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.

You have severe problems with The Rebellion Story, particularly in how it upended the optimistic note that the original series ended on and recontextualized Homura’s devotion to Madoka as something unhealthy and even toxic, but you still can’t bring yourself to reject the movie entirely, because at the end of the day, even you have to admit that damn, that dress.

The phrase, “X character did nothing wrong” pops up a lot in your internet discourse.

You ship CatraDora.

KyouSaya (Kyouko X Sayaka)

You’re always a sucker for how the dynamic of Enemies to Lovers shifts from antagonism to devotion without losing its obsessive intensity.

Your ideal date can best be summed up as Be Gay, Do Crimes…after which you have to call your responsible friend to come bail both of you out.

You know that important stuff happens after episode nine, but to be quite frank, at that point you were too emotionally traumatized to get invested and were only watching out of a feeling of obligation.

You were uncharacteristically smug after watching The Rebellion Story despite what disproportionately little screentime your ship received.

You also ship CatraDora.

MadoSaya (Madoka X Sayaka)

You don’t understand what all the fuss is about when it comes to Enemies to Lovers when there’s a perfectly good Friends to Lovers right there.

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Hot Topic switched out for a Footlocker.

You lost your mind on 4chan over Persephone’s Waltz on more than one occasion and for more than one reason (hey, ErinPtah!).

KyouMami (Kyouko X Mami)

You read A Different Story, and probably listened to that one audio drama.

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of exes that still long for one another.

You feel that a lot of the issues that both these characters struggle with stem from how messy their falling out was, and had Mami been more supportive and Kyouko not abandoned her after the death of Kyouko’s family, a whole lot of grief could have been avoided.

MamiSaya (Mami X Sayaka)

Your ideal date is getting sempai to notice you.

You have gotten into at least one altercation with Anticrack-Kun.

MadoMami (Madoka X Mami)

Your ideal date is getting kouhai to notice you.

You’re just here for some girls being friends, gals being pals.

MamiNagi (Mami X Nagisa)

You were already shipping Mami with the human form of Charlotte before The Rebellion Story came out, and even afterward you’re still unwilling to let go despite how uncomfortable it makes you now, to the point where “Aged Up Characters” is a regular tag in your ao3 searches.

Either that, or…

HomuMami (Homura X Mami)

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of passive-aggressiveness.

You were tilting your head in a particular manner during that scene where Mami ties up Homura, and feel that how it ended was a real missed opportunity.

You had to pause The Rebellion Story for about five minutes after the gunfight, and after you continued you shouted, “Goddamn it, Sayaka!” out loud.

HomuSaya (Homura X Sayaka)

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Sanrio switched out for a Footlocker.

Your favorite ao3 tag is “Hatesex.”

KyouHomu (Kyouko X Homura)

You know what's better than one edgy badass girl with a tragic past? Two edgy badass girls with a tragic past.

You felt that both these characters spent too much energy pursuing someone that just weren't into them as they were, and would better off settling with someone on more equal footing.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of game recognizing game.

You really wish that they reached that ramen shop in the movie.

KyouMado (Kyouko X Madoka)

Your favorite highschool relationship dynamic is edgy delinquent/ray of sunshine.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of “gap moe.”

HitoSuke (Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that these two characters get way too much hate, and everything that happened wasn’t their fault. Like, come on, guys. How could they have known that their teenaged relationship drama would be exploited by a race of emotionless alien groomers?

Your main priority is keeping things canon…and you don’t have a whole lot else to work with.

HitoSaya (Hitomi X Sayaka)

You feel that the most effective way of resolving a love triangle is eliminating the heterosexual options.

You feel that when Hitomi declared, “Girls can’t love girls!”, Sayaka’s reaction ought to have been, “Challenged accepted.”

SayaSuke (Sayaka X Kyousuke)

You just want good things for Sayaka, but only in a first four episodes kind of way.

You are heterosexual.

SayaHitoSuke (Sayaka X Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that the best way of resolving a love triangle is by connecting the bottom two axis.

You are heterosexual. Or possibly bisexual. Well, regardless, you are really horny.

HomuHito (Homura X Hitomi)

You’ve played the portable game.

MadoHito (Madoka X Hitomi)

You are constantly frustrated at how little attention this ship receives. After all, weren’t they friends too? But instead people seem to be more focused on shipping characters that don’t even like each other or never even interact in the show, and at this point you’re just glad that I acknowledged it in this silly meme post.

MamiHito (Mami X Hitomi)

You want to be a wealthy, unmarried Victorian duchess who is noted by history for your incredibly close relationship with your lovely companion who lives with you, does everything with you, up to and including sharing a bed, and after both of your deaths scholars will make note of what great friends you must have been.

KyouHito (Kyouko X Hitomi)

You were going out of your way to piss off Anticrack-kun. And really, who wouldn’t?

KyouSuke (Kyouko X Kyousuke)

You were going out of your way to piss off everybody, and I salute your courage.

HomuJun (Homura X Junko)

You are really into Pixar moms.

Also, obligatory…

KazuJun (Kazuko X Junko)

This is the same joke as the second part of MadoMami, but you’re also really into Pixar moms.

MadoKyu (Madoka X Kyubey)

I can’t say for certain whether or not you’re a monsterfucker, but you certainly enjoy the chaos that the very implication of this ship creates.

PolyMegucas (Madoka X Sayaka X Homura X Kyouko X Mami)

You don’t understand why there has to be so much drama between all these different pairings. All the girls are wonderful in their own ways, and they would be so much happier if they just stopped fighting, formed a loving and mutually supportive team dynamic as was seen in the first part of the movie, and possibly smooched one another.

Also, you are extremely horny.

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machinegunbun · 3 years

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PETE ACDS

A/N: The long awaited (about two months) fic! It hasn’t been proofread but I wanted to get it out so I could go get dinner. I’ll fix any problems when I get back.

Word count: 2,973 but Imma round it up and say 3k for my ego

If there's one thing you know, it’s that there’s nothing like a good game of dress up to boost your confidence. you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for the last half hour, admiring the way your body looked in the new lingerie.

Let's make one thing clear. You are not, for the most part, a very confident person, but it’s hard not to be confident when you look this fucking good. There would be vigorous debates between multiple world leaders on the topic of what was more poppin’, your highlight or that ass, and after years of deliberation and consulting multiple experts top in their field, it would be determined that they both excelled in different ways, coming together to create the hottest bitch on planet earth. God damn, I am that bitch, you thought.

When you’re feeling this confident, there's only one thing to do. Show your man what he's got. Reaching over, you grab your phone from the bed before returning to the mirror. Clicking it on, you swipe over to open the camera while posing in front of the mirror.

It wasn’t until you looked back on your photoshoot that you realized you’d been giving yourself fuck me eyes in almost every picture. In need of validation and praise for your hard work, you click Pete’s contact and send him a few.

The next few minutes were full of you admiring yourself, imagining in detail the things you would do to yourself if you were Pete.

Pete, on the other hand, was doing the exact same thing. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the photo since he’d received it, taking his time raking his eyes over every inch of your body. Pete was very lucky to have a job doing something he enjoyed, meaning he was never in a big rush to get home, but today he definitely would be.

When Pete finally walked through the door he was more than ready for what tonight would hold, but his excitement was cut short as he was met with a room of your friends. They had shown up unexpectedly and you’d been trying to get them to leave ever since you’d gotten his text,

“I’m on my way home. If you aren’t in that lingerie on the bed ass up by the time I get home you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble.”

but, they wouldn’t take the hint. You loved them, but they were shitty at taking hints. When you heard him walk through the door your mind began racing, knowing if you didn’t find a way to shoo your friends out early you would be in deep, deep-

“No, no it’s okay. Stay for a little, I could use it. How have you guys been?” Pete says as one of your friends stands to leave, finally understanding that it must have something to do with Pete coming home. You can see the warning in his eyes when they meet your own, his back turned to your friends as he eyed you, wearing nothing but his shirt, practically swimming in the material.

He listens absentmindedly as your friend fills him in on the conversation about her boyfriend- Er, ex-boyfriend, you all were having before he arrived, making his way into the kitchen where you were making snacks.

“Right, right.” He says, giving your friend a vague response to show he was listening before leaning down to whisper in your ear “What the fuck do you think you’re doing inviting your friends over when you know you’re in trouble?”

“I didn’t-”

“I should take you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out just to teach you a lesson, but I think you’d like that a little too much, wouldn��t you, slut.” He whispers, turning to acknowledge your friend entering the kitchen

“Do you guys have any alcohol? I just really wanna get drunk.” She says.

It took around an hour for your friends to finally leave. You had a good time, and for a moment you even forgot you were in trouble with Pete. You almost thought he had aswell, until he approached you after shutting and locking the door behind them for the night.

“You wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry, I was ju-”

“I just- I was only- What? You just knew you were in trouble so you invited your friends over to get out of it?”

“No! I didn’t even know they were coming over! My phone was dead.”

“I guess that’s why you read my text and still disobeyed me then, huh?”

“Well- No, my phone was charged at that point.”

“That’s okay, you’re gonna make it up to me. Instead of just being punished for trying to distract me at work, you can-” as the words were leaving his mouth, your phone dings. Speak of the devil. Your breath catches in your throat as the tension in the room grows. Seriously? You think, Right now? Could the timing have possibly been worse?

“Check it.” He challenged, glaring down at you. Your eyes flicked over to your phone, memories of what you had done just hours before to get yourself into this flooding your mind, your gaze quickly returning to his, unsure if it was rhetorical “Go ahead, you’re already in trouble.”

“It’s Casey,” you gulp “dinners ready.” Pete looked mildly inconvenienced by this, maintaining a silent eye contact momentarily before motioning you up the stairs with a look on his face that said ‘What are you waiting for?’

It wasn’t every night that you would have dinner as a family, but Casey had just gotten back from a vacation with friends, so Amy wanted to take the opportunity to have everyone together.

You walked in front of him, taking one step at a time, holding your breath. The anxiety- no, anticipation was overwhelming. You’d waited so long just for him to get home, and now you’d have to wait again.

Casey had cut him off mid sentence, You began to wonder what he would’ve said if she hadn’t. Your leg twitches as you realize you’d only find out in the moment. No time left for warnings, when you finally got back downstairs there would be so much build up you doubt he’d take the time to write a speech.

Ma sat opposite Pete and you at the table, an empty chair next to Ma for Casey who was currently fixing herself a plate, your own full plates sitting in front of you. Dinner for tonight was steak and potatoes with cooked asparagus. It was hard to focus on food. Instead, you dragged the tongs of your fork through your potatoes, hoeing the mashy farmland that was your dinner, when you felt a hand grip your thigh.

You were feeling quite the range of emotions now, a hard contrast to how you were feeling when you got yourself into this mess. You’re scared, but excited, submissive, but bratty, nervous, but wet. The anxiety of it all is killing you, wanting nothing more than to go back downstairs and make it up to him.

“Hey, stupid.” Casey says, smacking Pete on the back of the head as she makes her way to her seat.

“I’m not stupid, you are. Stupid.” Pete replies, Amy scoffing at their sibling banter.

“That’s enough, she just got back. Be nice to each other. How was everyone's day?” Amy asks, trying to motivate some decent dinner conversation.

When you made it back downstairs Pete gave you a glare that said you were on very thin ice tonight. He made his way over to the couch, taking a seat, his legs slightly spread with his feet planted on the ground.

“Do you want me-”

“Get on your fucking knees and suck. My. Dick.” He demands, making it obvious that tonight would not be the night to disobey.

Your hands worked quickly, unbuckling his pants and pulling them not halfway down his thighs before pulling his underwear down just enough for his thick member to spring out. You quickly got to work teasing him, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking it in your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks, moving down a bit before coming back up and repeating, taking your time with him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna tease me? You wanna play that game right now?” Pete says, you toss the words around in your head for a moment before deciding that you had probably gotten yourself in enough trouble for tonight. You began bobbing your head slowly, letting his hand on the back of your head set the pace.

“Hmm, that's right,” he groaned “apologize to daddy.”

Every once in a while he would push down unexpectedly and you’d gag, on the other hand sometimes you’d go too far down for his liking and he’d pull you back by your hair. He was making sure that you knew every aspect of tonight was going to be for his pleasure, down to how you sucked his dick. It was so hot.

By the time he pulled you off you were wet in more ways than one, both your face and his lower half covered in your spit.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” He says, reaching down to slip his fingers between your legs, sliding his digits against your core, sliding one in slowly before immediately removing it.

“So wet too, barely even touched you,” He slips his finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste “I need to taste you.” He groans, his grip on your hair not faltering as he pulls you up to lean against the arm of the couch, burying his tongue deep inside your soaking wet cunt. Desperate moans and words of encouragement slip past your lips as he works you with his tongue, his hand slipping under your, well, his shirt, massaging your breast. You whine as he sits up to take it completely off, the moment over before it really began.

“Stay here,” He says, walking into the other room.

You sat patiently for what was beginning to feel like forever, facing the couch as you wondered what he was doing. You could hear him shuffling around in the other room, presumably looking for something.

What was taking him so long? You’d both been waiting the same amount of time for this, you arguably longer than him, and he had barely even touched you yet. It was only fair, you thought, that since you’d helped him out a bit that you help yourself.

You check that he isn’t walking back into the room as you slip your hand between your legs, letting out a small breath through parted lips as you rub yourself through your underwear. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until your hips were rocking against your hand, trying desperately to give yourself what Pete could so effortlessly. Your mind wandered back to you on the bed, moments before your friends arrived, your orgasm slowly approaching when

There was a knock on the door.

Pete must’ve forgotten his keys, you thought. You scanned the room for something to cover up with, quickly grabbing one of Pete’s shirts he had lazily discarded on the couch the night prior.

The metal of the door handle was cool as you wrapped your hand around it, a stark contrast to that of your skin, pulling the door open. A moment of shock washing over you as you’re met with the sight of three of your bestfriends standing in front of you in the cool, dark night. You stutter out a quick invitation inside from the cold and a question of what they’re doing here.

You shook the thought away, returning to what you had been thinking of before they arrived.

The kiss was messy and desperate, a perfect representation of the way you both were feeling. His hands were all over you, slipping your shirt over your head while you worked on unbuttoning his pants. You needed him so badly, and from the looks of the bulge protruding from his underwear, he needed you just as much. Your lips were on his neck while his hand made its way around to grope your ass, love bites joining his circle of tattoos as he squeezed, your flushed skin warming his cold hands.

“I don’t remember asking you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt a hand around your neck, a newfound confidence washing over you now that your mind wasn’t so clouded by need.

“I don’t remember you touching me.” You quip, your eyes meeting as he uses his grip on your neck to force your gaze up to him. He tilts his head, looking down at you

“I suggest you shut the fuck up before you land yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.” He says, his voice stern

“I suggest you fucking make me.” You say, his hand quickly coming behind your head to wrap your hair in a makeshift ponytail, his other grabbing his dick and shoving it down your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes water as he roughly fucks your throat, cautious to keep your mouth open as to not hurt him. There’s a string of spit from your mouth to his tip when he pulls away, leaving your throat burning.

He returns to his place on the couch and you begin positioning yourself back between his legs, assuming he wants you to continue.

“No. On my lap.” He says, glaring down at you. You stand, confused, as you take your seat on his thigh, your eyes not leaving his. He rolls his eyes, readjusting you so you’re laying on your stomach, flat across his lap.

“I know you don’t know how to listen, but I know for a fact you know how to count.” He says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. You lay silently, waiting for the next when he continues in a rather condescending tone.

“One.” another harsh smack

“One.” You repeat, unsure of yourself.

“Was that one or was it two?” He asks,

“It was three.” You whisper

“Restart.” He says, his hand colliding harshly as ever.

By the time you count out fifteen your ass is red and your eyes prickling with tears. You begin pathetically begging him to leave it there,

“I’ll be a good girl daddy, I promise.” You whine.

“Hm, should’ve thought about that a little sooner.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit up.

He positions himself so he’s leaning against the arm of the couch, reaching to the side and grabbing the bottle of lube he had left the room for. It makes a clicking sound as he opens it, pouring a small amount on his hand. When he’s satisfied he motions for you to come over, your legs spread as you stand on your knees overtop him. He pulls you down into a kiss, his hands reaching behind you and spreading the lube in and around your tight hole. You sit back up when he’s done, watching as he strokes his hard dick, distributing what was left of the lube onto the red and swollen member.

Pete sits up, moving behind you and pushing your face into the couch cushion, pulling your hips into the air. You pull your lip between your teeth as he lines himself up with your ass, his eyes focused on where you’re about to meet as he slowly sinks himself into you, A whimper falling from your mouth as you struggle to take him. He stalls his actions, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to move back against him before he continues.

Pete can’t help the groan that erupts from his throat when he begins pumping in and out of you, mesmerized by the moans that are slipping past your lips as he finds his rhythm, his hand snaking around your waist to play with your clit.

Pete was always big, no matter how you were taking him, whether it was your mouth or your wet pussy or your ass, but his length and girth were much more noticeable during anal. It still felt good, of course, just different.

You feel the hand that was resting on your ass make its way up your back, wrapping itself around your neck and pulling you up so your back was pressed flush against his chest. You could feel the sweat building between you two, acting as encouragement and lubrication as you moved against one another. You struggled to catch your breath as his grip tightened, choking you and tilting your head up.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, spitting in your mouth, his spit tasting of you, his hands working magic on your clit as he pounds harshly at your ass all swirling together into one feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum.” You manage to slur out, your head being pulled back by your makeshift ponytail

“Excuse me? You aren’t gonna do shit without asking me first.”

“Sorry, p-please, can I please cum daddy, please.” you beg, quick to cover up your mistake in fear that he’ll deny your orgasm. By some stroke of miracle, Pete was in a good mood, so he decides to take your pleas to heart and continues until you’re unravelling around him, your legs giving out as he mercilessly pounds you into the couch. He follows soon after, pulling out and unloading himself on your back.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, his hand lovingly stroking your thigh as he sits on your legs. You turn over a bit once you’ve calmed down, careful not to get any of his cum on the couch.

“Ah, shit. Sorry. Here.” He says, reaching over to grab his shirt and wipe it up for you.

“Wow, you're such a romantic.” You remark.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson smut #pete davidson fic #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson fanfiction

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 11 (NSFW)

Masterlist

IT’S THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR BESTIES! Thanks as always to @acollectionofficsandshit I think I broke her with this chapter! She also found the song for this chapter so special thanks for that as well ❤

Word Count: 7.6k

Recommended song: “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by the Script

The steam of the shower cleanses your senses and washes away the sweat from your workout. Crisp September air rushes through the open window and raises goosebumps on your skin as you step out. You turn off the tap and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel in an attempt to ward off the chill. A glance at the clock tells you that you have a half hour to get ready before your date picks you up.

Peter was one of the few guys in your major that paid you any attention. Most of them tolerated you at best but it had never bothered you. You were independent enough that you could make it through class on your own and google what you didn’t understand afterward and learn it before the exam.

It had been fairly easy to fall in with Peter and a few others during the first few weeks of summer classes. What began with group study sessions and quickly developed into hanging out one on one with Peter on the weekends to go to coffee shops or play video games.

When Peter had asked you out two months ago, Pierre's voice nagged in the back of your head. He asked if you were ready to move on from him and if you could really forget him.

The simple answer was no, forgetting him was impossible. No matter how many years passed, he would always own a part of you.

Peter was sweet and he cared about you but you were quickly realizing the bond you shared with him didn't run as deep as it had with Pierre. He started as your friend and you really didn't feel right letting it develop past that. Although you had agreed to that date and plenty more in the time since, it still didn’t feel like a relationship. You had to stop yourself from imagining someone else's arm around you when you lounged on the sofa or someone else's lips kissing you goodnight.

You slip into a form fitting red cocktail dress and sweep your hair over a shoulder, banishing the memory. The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger, a ghost of who you once were. You pull your lips into a smile nowhere near as bright as it was months ago.

A knock on your apartment door startles you from your trance. Peter holds a bouquet of flowers, a broad grin on his face. He was handsome in a traditional sense, with a sharp jawline and playful forest green eyes that promised a good time. He was adventurous; a night in wasn’t in the cards. Everything was an event with him and you didn’t mind the distractions one bit.

"You look amazing as always," he says, stepping inside and kissing your cheek. You sniff the flowers lightly. Daisies were some of your least favorite flowers but the gesture was too sweet to point that out.

"So do you," you respond, gaze sweeping from his scuffed wingtip shoes to his crisp blue button down shirt. Ocean blue, washed out against Peter's pale skin, but would have looked perfect on Pierre's golden complexion.

You had to stop thinking about him. You saw him everywhere. On more than one occasion, you dropped out of a conversation when you caught a glimpse of blond hair bobbing through a crowd or heard a laugh startlingly similar to his. You couldn’t escape the idea of him whether you liked it or not.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks, touching your elbow.

God, you were so far from okay. Your mind was a melted mess of memories of a blond Frenchman and all the broken promises between the pair of you. This was pointless. You were wasting your time with Peter. He was great and should have been everything you wanted but he just wasn't enough.

"I'm so sorry," you start, handing back the flowers. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Oh thank god," he says, shoulders drooping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking the same thing, I just didn't want to be the one to say it." You both laugh, the tension ebbing from your frame.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "You're amazing. There's just no…"

"Spark," you finish. "Yeah, I agree. Friends?"

You stick out your hand and he shakes it firmly. "Sounds like a plan. No hard feelings. See you in class on Monday?"

"I'll be there."

You slip out of your heels with a sigh, glad you don't have to endure that form of torture any longer. For the first time in months, you allow yourself to scroll through Pierre's Instagram.

Instead of being flooded with personal pictures it had become mostly posed shoots.it was the kind of thing that seemed staged, like he was only posted because his PR team deemed it necessary.

As time went on the content became more and more clinical. He was giving fans less of an insight into his personal life and focusing on racing content. You knew he had probably thrown everything he had into the season in an attempt to move on and you couldn't blame him.

If his Insta was to be believed, he had earned a handful of podiums in the four months since you had mostly lost interest in the sport. After Austin it had been nearly impossible to watch a full race and you had instead been getting your biased updates from Max, who conveniently left out all but the barest details of anyone’s race weekend but his own.

There was no point in trying to convince yourself you no longer felt anything for Pierre. Just scrolling through his page reignites the flame in your chest that had been burning far too dimly for far too long.

Heart pounding, you double tap a photoset of him modeling for Alpha Tauri, the lighting accenting his eyes. Their distinct, rich blue had always been your weakness.

Your fingers find their way to the charm at your throat. You hadn't taken it off once since the gala. It was pointless to deny the sway he still held over you all these months later. Maybe it was time you stopped pretending you were fine and finally give in to the pull.

The past few months have given you plenty of time to reflect. The media would hound you like dogs but at least while you were in London they would leave your family alone. And really, enduring their scrutiny was a small price to pay if it meant loving Pierre.

“I’m an idiot,” you mumble, pulling up his contact in your phone. Breaking up with him had been the dumbest decision of your life. You’d watched him from afar as he traveled from grand prix to grand prix, touring cities and sleeping everywhere except where he belonged: curled up next to you in your tiny London flat, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Fuck what anyone would say. Nothing could be worse than knowing your soulmate was out there and you let him go.

Heart pounding, you type out a text. I miss you.

Shaking your head, you erase it. How are you? Seemed more appropriate.

"Here goes nothing," you murmur and hit send.

**********

It started off as any other free Sunday did: Charles and Charlotte arriving at his apartment carrying snacks and beer which neither of them would tell their trainers about tomorrow and plopping in front of the television to watch the PSG match.

The trio roared at the screen at poor calls and yelled when a goal was scored, all completely lost in the sport.

Pierre absently registers his phone buzzing during the last few minutes of the match but ignores it. PSG comes out on top and he finally checks it, nearly choking on the pretzels he was eating.

How are you?

Pierre has to read it thrice before he’s convinced it’s real.

"Holy fuck," he says softly, tipping the phone so Charles can see.

"Told you mate." He takes Charlotte's hand and stands. Football match completely forgotten, Pierre lifts a hand in a wave as the couple leaves. His eyes are fixed on the screen as he tries to comprehend the gravity your words carry.

After months of waiting in agony and wondering if you still cared, you’d texted him.

He had no idea how he managed to keep his feet on the floor. He was completely weightless, reading your message over and over again until it sinks in.

He takes the three simple words as permission to finally delve back into your life, immediately scrolling through your instagram to catch up. He double taps every post save for the ones with you and some tall, handsome guy. His stomach twists.

Fuck it. Even if you just wanted to catch up, he'd take it. If you told him you were with someone else and you were happy, he'd learn to live with it. He was starved of you and was prepared to beg for crumbs of your life.

I'm fine. You have time for a phone call?

It was a leap but he acknowledged and accepted the risks.

Yeah. That would be good.

You pick up on the second ring.

"Hey."

Pierre squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back the lump in his throat. Years of memories rush over him in the space of a breath. The shock in your voice when you found out he was a driver for the first time. Your smile and breathless laugh when you met him in the garage in Brazil after his first podium in Formula 1. The tentative glances he had thrown your way for months after he finally accepted that he had begun to fall for you. The way your velvet lips felt when he made a gamble and kissed you for the first time. The drunken lilt of your voice when you told him you loved him that night in London.

Before he can stop it the bad comes rushing back too. The memory of the terror on your face when he let it slip that you were together sends a chill through him. If there was one moment he could change, it wouldn’t be the time he fucked up and lost his seat at Red Bull. It would be to keep his damned mouth shut at that karting track and preserve the bliss of that day and tuck it away in a bulletproof case that he could pull out and look at whenever he wanted.

"Hey you," he manages, silently thanking whoever is listening that he keeps the tremble out of his voice. "Been awhile."

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says quickly. "You never need to apologize to me."

You were the last one that needed to apologize for anything. He should be the one beginning for forgiveness. It was his fault you’d panicked. He should have fought harder for you, proved that he could make it work and save you both from months of heartache. But then again, maybe you had moved on. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him forever.

He doesn’t realize he’s been silent for so long until you clear your throat. For the first time he can recall, the silence is thick and heavy with unspoken words. It had always been effortless, the stories and words flowing like a babbling brook between the two of you. Now the confessions on his tongue remain poised there, too terrified to give them the light of day.

"How's your season been?" He’s thankful you break the quiet first but the question makes his stomach sink.

"You haven't been watching?"

"Not really."

"Oh." It made sense that you would distance yourself from him and that was fine, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. "It's been decent. Red Bull wants me to come to Milton for contract discussions this week, actually."

"You're moving back up?"

"Potentially." Horner had only called him earlier that week to discuss the potential of him returning to Red Bull next year. The informal agreement was that if he could make seventh in the championship in a midfield car, they would bump him back for the following season.

It wasn’t a concrete guarantee- that’s why Horner wanted to speak with him in person. He had a year left in his contract and being in a Red Bull meant he would be able to prove his worth to other teams and potentially secure a world championship worthy seat at a team that actually appreciated his talent.

He draws a breath before continuing, "I'll be in London on Monday. You know- if you wanna get together."

You stay silent for a touch too long and he panics. It was too soon. He should have kept his mouth shut because now he’d driven you away again. “Nevermind, forget I said anything-"

"No," you interrupt, "no, I'd love to see you and catch up. I don't have classes on Tuesdays. Have any free time then?"

His eyes slide shut and he exhales. The flack he would undoubtedly catch for shuffling around a few interviews would be worth it to see you. "Yeah. I can swing by your apartment around seven?"

"Okay," you say, a touch of excitement lacing your voice. "I'll make myself presentable."

"I-" he stops himself before the words can slip past his lips. "I'll see you then."

*********

Pierre blows out a breath and adjusts his backpack. He stands at the threshold of your building, keys in hand, unsure if he should let himself in. The dilemma had kept him rooted to the spot for nearly ten minutes now, weighing the pros and cons of his options.

“Hey you, blond fucker.” Pierre whips around and is met by Daniel’s girlfriend glaring up at him from the sidewalk. She tips her head to the side to study him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had to cancel plans to be here tonight. “You gonna grow a pair and go up there or just keep staring at the door all day?”

“I’m going,” he grumbles, “are you?”

“Oh, I was going to but clearly whatever you have planned is more important.” Her grin splits her face ear to ear. “About damn time she got ahold of you. I was getting sick of listening to her gripe about you twenty four seven.”

“Didn’t she tell you I was coming by? If you guys have plans I can come back later.”

She waves a hand and dismisses the offer. “Absolutely not. Go get your girl.”

“She’s not-” The glare she cuts him snatches the words from his mouth. She makes a shooing motion before setting off down the sidewalk, munching on whatever snacks were in her shopping bag.

Pierre shakes out his hands and tries to gather the courage to use his key. The hopeless romantic argued that you would expect him to use it because you would know he still had it. The rational side of him butts in to point out that it might catch you off guard if he showed up without warning. He settles on buzzing your unit, your answer fuzzy from the distortion.

"Pierre?"

Even with the warbly static in your voice, his name on your lips is the salvation he’s been dreaming about for months. "Yeah it's me."

"Don't you have a key?"

"I wasn't sure if I should use it."

You don't answer, instead letting the buzz of the electronic lock do the talking. He takes the stairs three at a time, barely winded by the time he reaches the third floor. He doesn't even have to knock, your door swinging open as he steps up. The sight of you knocks the breath from his lungs.

It didn't matter that you were in a simple hoodie and jeans, feet bare and hair swept back in a low bun. You are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and after months apart he nearly falls to his knees then and there to beg for your forgiveness, to get lost in you until two souls became one and he never had to live another second apart from you.

"Are you gonna stand there or do you wanna come in?"

God, he had missed your teasing jabs. His fingers ache for contact with your soft skin and he curls them into a fist to resist the urge. “Coming in,” he says softly, purposefully brushing your arm as he skirts past you. Every inch of him sings from the barely there touch, his soul aching for more.

Just stepping foot into your quaint flat has the weight he had been carrying on his chest for months beginning to ease up. Nothing beat the elation of being back where he belonged, not even spraying champagne from the top step on a podium.

Determined not to scare you off before he could have a proper conversation with you, Pierre opts for falling into the same humor you had used earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is that takeout I smell?"

You nod, your cheeks turning a pale pink. “I got you two orders of beef lo mein. I figured you might be hungry.”

As if summoned, his stomach growls. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast."

“Figures,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief as you settle into the plush carpet and pull a takeout box towards you. "I got it from that place across town, the one you liked best." Pierre perches on the edge of the sofa and snags the plastic tray with his name on it, eyes never leaving yours.

Now that you were mere feet from him he found it increasingly difficult to deny himself the relief of kissing you here and now. He wanted to trace his thumb over your lips before replacing it with his own, to slot his mouth over yours until time was nothing and he was no one other than yours.

You clear your throat and drop his gaze first, sending him crashing back to reality. “So, ninth huh? Glad to see you cracked the top ten.”

Pierre scrunches his nose and spears a piece of broccoli. He was shit with chopsticks but you always got a kick out of him fumbling with them. “Not where I’d like to be but I’ll take it. Horner took notice obviously, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I think an invitation to Milton Keynes is enough reason to hope," you say around a mouthful of sticky rice.

This interaction was reason to hope. The fact that you were once again on speaking terms, that things were finally returning to some semblance of normal, was enough for him to believe that one day everything would be back to how it was before. That maybe, just maybe, he could hold you in his arms again and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your heart beating in his ear.

Remembering the guy from your instagram, he scans the room for any sign of a male companion. Finding none, he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?”

It probably would have been a good idea to go about this particular line of questioning with a bit more tact. Inquiring so blatantly betrayed his inner thoughts, laid all his cards on the table. He didn't have it in him to care, not when his world might be turned upside down by your answer.

“Oh, you mean Peter?” You sip your water, seemingly working up the courage to explain. Each moment that the silence dragged on it became more of a physical monster. Pierre could feel it growing until it threatened to sink his claws in him and drag him deeper into the pits of his insecurity.

“If that’s his name, yeah.” Pierre braces himself for whatever comes next, reminding himself to be happy for you no matter what you choose. It would take time but he could put aside what he still felt for you and learn to accept your choice if it meant staying in your life.

You shake your head. “He’s a friend from uni. He’s not my boyfriend. At least not anymore.”

“Oh,” he says, frowning down at his food to cover the way his heart skips. “But he was?”

He had expected you to move on, if he was being honest. No way in hell did you deserve to be as miserable as he had been since you'd left- you deserved all the happiness he couldn't seem to give you and more. And if someone else had been the one to grant you that happiness, he should thank them.

“For a little while,” you say softly, like it would cushion the blow. “It didn’t feel right.”

He was familiar with that feeling. Nothing he did felt right after the break up. Just about the only thing that kept him sane was telling himself that you’d come to your senses sooner or later.

And now that he was here, his world was beginning to right itself.

“Earth to Pierre,” you say teasingly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just- I’ve missed this,” he says, picking at his food.

“What, eating subpar takeout in my tiny apartment?” You laugh and stuff another bite in your mouth. God, you could be so oblivious. It was one of the many things he adored about you.

“I do. I miss doing anything that involves you, actually.”

There it was. His heart laid bare before you for the second time, waiting to see how you would respond. You set down your chopsticks and wipe your lips. His eyes track their movement as you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.”

Four syllables and he melts. It takes all he has to keep himself from sobbing with relief. It was everything he had come here hoping to hear. He couldn’t endure this again, couldn’t lose you for a second time-

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he pleads, body thrumming with the need to wrap you in his arms. “Don’t put me through this again unless you’re here to stay.”

He wasn't strong enough to tell you to stop. He would let you wreck him and he would be completely powerless to stop it. He would welcome it if it meant you granting him a sliver of your time. It would ruin him for anyone else but he didn’t have it in him to turn you away.

You rise to your feet and pad around the low table until you’re standing knee to knee, his neck craned up to study your face. You just keep looking at him, the leash on his carefully controlled restraint slipping as he rambles, “Because I can’t take it if you leave me again, I won’t-”

You simply nod, as if that’s all the answer he should need. But it’s not enough. “Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me you mean it.”

He didn’t care that he was begging. He didn’t care that you had reduced his normally impenetrably stoic mentality to a jumble of you. If he was being honest with himself, you were the light of his life, the reason he pushed so hard for results on track. Everything had gone black and white when you left and racing had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. The need to make you proud still propelled him forward even if he'd had no idea if you still cared.

So no, he didn’t care at all that he was practically on his knees. He would grovel at your feet for his entire life if it meant you’d grant him one more day to be with you.

“I mean it,” you murmur and place a hand on his cheek. He draws a shaky breath, leaning into you. Home, home, home, his head screams, acutely aware of every square inch of contact between the two of you.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I’ve finally come to terms with it- your lifestyle. If I love you, I have to accept it being public. I have to build myself a shelter to withstand the storm, but I’ll make it big enough for two.”

It takes everything in him to keep from crushing you to his chest and never letting go. He had to ask, had to be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was forever. “Promise me you won’t leave again if things get hard. Promise me we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together.”

“I promise. I’m not afraid anymore,” you murmur. Pierre’s head falls forward to rest on your hip bone, your fingers threading in his hair. “Daniel’s girlfriend helped me see that it doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven't been the same since I…”

“Neither have I.” His thumb winds under your shirt to sweep over your soft skin. “You’re safe with me, you know that right? I can protect you from whatever they say and you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this-” he finally lets himself look up at you- “what we have. I’ve never stopped loving you, not once.”

Your smile is soft and tentative as you climb into his lap. His hands slide up your sides to pull you closer, refusing to let an inch separate you now that you’d bridged the gap. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I learned my lesson.”

You lean down to ghost your lips over his brow, his closed eyelids, his nose. He can feel himself reconstructing under your touch, that final piece of the puzzle clicking home after being lost for so long. “I promise that I’m yours until the last star falls from the sky.”

He had lost four months of time with you. He wouldn't allow another second to slip through his fingers.

Anticipating his movements, you meet him halfway. Fireworks explode as his lips finally return home and his world is finally, finally righted. Your nails scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as your body moulds against his. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly your curves fit against him after all this time. He was determined to memorize every mountain and valley of you by the night's end.

His hands grip your thighs and he stands. Your arms automatically wind around his neck to keep from falling. He carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the edge of the island, never breaking the kiss. Nothing mattered outside of this apartment; not his career, not any baseless gossip, nothing existed beyond the space where your skin met his.

Pierre pulls back long enough to remove his shirt. Your fingers dance over his skin, relearning the planes of his chest like you had all the time in the world. And you did; he would stay here as long as you let him, reveling in the way you drank up every inch of his body like it was the first time you’d seen it.

“I love you,” you say as he kisses along your jaw.

How many times had he dreamt of you whispering that to him the past four months? How many times had it echoed in his head before a race, taunting him? He could scarcely believe his mind wasn’t playing more tricks on him now. He had to be certain it was real.

“Say it again,” he breathes. “Please. Please, tell me again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I love you Pierre, my champion, my heart, my everything.”

Pierre groans against your mouth, knotting his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat. He nips at the soft skin, not caring that he was leaving a trail of tiny marks in his wake. His focus was entirely on the gasps he was dragging from you with each touch, your heels digging into his ass and begging for him to be closer.

"My sweet, kindhearted man," you continue breathlessly. He didn't know if the words were for your benefit or his. "My best friend. My one and only love."

In that moment, you could ask him to bring you a star from the midnight sky and he wouldn't stop until he found a way to make it happen. You could ask for his last dollar and he would hand it to you with a smile on his face, completely enthralled with the way his name sounds on your tongue, professing that you still wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You were his undoing.

“Off,” he growls, tugging at your sweatshirt. You obey instantly and fling it aside, neither of you caring when dishes clatter to the tile floor and undoubtedly break. Your jeans follow suit after he helps you slip out of them. He runs his fingers over the delicate black lace of your bra and panties and pauses to appreciate that you knew exactly where the night would lead.

His cock twitches as you reach between your bodies to run a knuckle over his clothed length. “Your turn.” You undo the button with practiced ease, taking your sweet time as his breath comes in ragged gasps. He’d had a taste of you and hadn’t forgotten how you’d felt around him. He needed you more than he needed the air he breathed, his desperation taking over as he swats your hand aside and strips off his jeans and boxers himself.

He drops to his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you forward until your center is inches from his face. The yelp that escapes you is intoxicating, your hands flying back to catch yourself. His teeth sink none too gently into the flesh of your thigh and he’s rewarded with a moan before he flicks his tongue over the hurt.

Your head falls back and Pierre places one of your legs over his shoulder. “Mon amour,” he purrs, garnering your attention. Your head lolls forward and he waits until you meet his gaze to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”

“I never doubted it,” you confirm, lips curling in a smile. “But why don’t you prove it to me again?”

He pulls your panties aside and blows lightly. You groan, thighs tensing under his fingers as your toes curl and he chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you really want to tease me?”

“What I want,” he says sharply, “is to have you moaning my name until it's the only word you know.” His tongue flicks out to dance over your thigh, dangerously close to where he knows you want him. “What I want is to make up for lost time.” He rips through the thin lace of your panties and lets the ruined scraps fall to the floor.

“Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

He would buy you an entire lingerie store if he could rip every set of it off you. He didn’t care how much it costed, it was never too much when it came to you.

“What I want most, my love,” he murmurs, smiling when his hot breath curls over your dripping cunt and you squirm, “is to forget everything else and stay here forever.”

You cry out when his tongue finally flicks through your folds. Pierre hums approvingly at your reaction, one arm snaking up to pin your hips in place. He sucks lightly at your clit and your fingers tangle in his hair.

“P-Pierre,” you breathe. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, the wickedness of it dragging the moan from your lips that he was after. He was drunk on the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.

“There’s my good girl.” He runs his tongue flat over your sex, savoring the taste as you squirm under him. You let out a choked noise when he repeats the motion before fucking you with his tongue, his nose hitting your clit with each stroke.

He doesn’t miss the way your lip wobbles and Pierre knows you’re ready to cry with frustration. He decides he’s tortured you enough for now and relents, putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before plunging them inside you.

His mouth is spelling his name on your clit a moment later, your walls already clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm nears. In the handful of times he’d taken you to bed, he had already learned that when your head rolls back like that and your breathing stops, you’re seconds away from climaxing. He doesn’t let up until you’re shaking beneath him, finally slowing to work you through your orgasm without making you hypersensitive.

“Baby,” you groan breathlessly. Pierre slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his thigh before pressing a final, tender kiss to your center that makes you jump.

“Use my name,” he demands, uncoiling to his full height. He grips your wrist and hauls your boneless body up, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Pierre,” you murmur and he grinds his hips against you in approval. He captures your mouth with his, taking advantage of your hazy mind to lazily explore it.

You hum into the kiss, managing to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Suddenly the column of your neck is all he can think about and he wraps a hand around it, squeezing with enough force that you pull back with a gasp.

“Too much?” He murmurs, lessening his grip. Your brows knit together and your lower lips juts out, begging for him to take it between his teeth. He leans in and gives in to the impulse as he swipes his thumb under your jaw.

“Tell me if you want my hand on your throat, my love. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you say finally. Your eyes are cloudy when they meet his. “Keep it there.”

He shows his approval in the form of a light squeeze. You angle your hips up, nudging his cock with your center. You reach a hand down to wrap around his shaft and drag the head through your folds, teasing him as he had done to you. The grip on your throat tightens to a point bordering blissfully between pain and pleasure, both a warning and an order to continue.

If you knew how close he was to flipping you on your stomach and slamming into you, you’d call him crazy. Or maybe you’d like it, judging by the way your head falls back as he rocks his hips and inches into you.

You both moan when he decides the time for restraint has passed and he slams into you. You lift your hips to meet his with every thrust, clearly missing this just as much as he had. God, he’d lost months of fucking you, of feeling you clench around him and writhe beneath him. If he could stay like this forever he would, his hand around your neck and cock splitting you open as he laps up your moans like sweet candy.

“I’m- Pierre,” you squeak out, and he knows you’re barreling towards your second orgasm of the night. He pulls you up by your neck until you’re eye to eye and forced to look at him.

“Come for me,” he whispers, slamming into you again and again. “Come on my cock mon amour and I might just cum inside you.”

His words are your undoing, pleasure rippling from you in waves as your mouth falls open in a silent plea. He grants you no clemency as your cunt twitches around him, instead following through on his promise and following your lead.

You pants mix with his own as he struggles to keep both of you upright, his knees turned to jelly. Your head rests on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your temple, slowly pulling out of you. A pitiful whimper escapes your throat involuntarily.

“I know,” Pierre murmurs, reaching over to start the kitchen sink. He wets a clean cloth and runs it between your legs, still supporting you as he doesn’t trust that your legs won't give out if he doesn’t. When it’s clear you can barely form a coherent thought, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to your room. He nudges the bathroom door open with his hip and sets you on the vanity.

The absence of his body heat makes you shiver when he goes to turn on the shower, adjusting the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature. He gathers you in his arms and steps into the tub, your sigh audible as the warm water hits your skin.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs before kissing your temple. You nod against his chest and he sets you down, keeping his hands on your waist just in case. You’re thankful for it when your knees wobble, a hand flying out to steady yourself.

“I’m okay,” you say after a beat and grin up at him. “I can stand, promise.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m taking my hands off you,” he says, grinning right back. “At least not for long.” He reaches over your shoulder for the shampoo and gestures for you to turn around. You obey, tipping your head back to wet your hair. A blissful sigh escapes you when his fingers meet your scalp, the cherry blossom scent blooming in the air as he works it into a lather.

Taking care of you was just as satisfying as the sex was. He cherished the intimacy of taking this small burden from your shoulders. The seemingly simple task was one of deep seated trust and it proved to him that your love ran bone deep. There was a level of trust in you letting him wash you that he didn't want to have with anyone else. It was reserved for you and you alone.

“Close your eyes,” he warns before guiding your head back under the water for a rinse. He cups a hand to your forehead to keep the soap from your eyes. Your smile is soft but unrestrained as you lean further into him until your back is pressed to his chest.

You both stay silent as he runs the creamy conditioner through the ends of your hair. His hand cups your jaw and tips your head back for a lazy kiss before he rinses that too and cuts the tap.

Once you're wrapped in a fuzzy white towel he finally dries himself off, fighting off a chill. He doesn't realize you're watching him until he turns around and notices you standing in the doorway.

"What?"

You push off the wall and pad back to where he stands to wrap your arms around his middle. His thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, perfectly content to stand there dripping on the tile until morning.

When it's clear you're lost in thought he speaks up. "What's on your mind?"

"When did you know you loved me?"

"Like the exact moment?" He asks, caught off guard. You nod against his chest.

"When you visited me in Milan last summer," he says a few heartbeats later. That night insisted on making guacamole at two in the morning and woke me up because you couldn't find a lime. You told me you couldn't sleep because it was all you could think about after you saw that couple at the cafe eating it."

"Why then?"

"Because I knew I didn't have a lime but I was fully prepared to knock on every door in the building to find you one. Because in that moment all that mattered was seeing your face light up when I handed it to you and knowing that it was me that made you smile like that. I knew then that I’d do anything for you."

It still amazed him how a lime of all things was the tipping point. In that moment, a lime was important to you and it so naturally became important to him. If anyone else had woken him from his deep sleep he would have grumbled and told them off. But you, seeing your face inches from his, the light from the hall casting a warm halo around your frame as you whispered his name, he hadn’t cared at all.

"But then I found the juice in the fridge," you recall and glance up at him.

"Yeah, you did. And you felt so bad for waking me up- you had no idea that I had already fallen so hard that I had to keep myself from shutting you up with a kiss.”

The easy admission seems to stir something in you and you rise up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “I knew that time you sent food to my dorm at midnight when I was pulling an all nighter. I was studying for my calculus final, remember?”

Pierre nods. “I was in Barcelona. You weren’t answering your phone so I sent a message with the takeout guy.” He had been wholly enamored with you at that point, having quickly learned that trying to keep his feelings buried deep was an option that would never work. So he leaned into it, letting little bits of it shine through in hopes that you might pick up on it.

Your laugh rumbles through him. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous.”

“Took us long enough to figure it out didn’t it?” He untangles himself from you and leads you to bed.

“I’m just glad we did eventually.” You let him guide you to the mattress while he stays standing and goes to your closet. He hunts for the shirt he wants to see you in, praying you hadn’t gotten rid of it. He finally finds it tucked back in the corner and pulls it out, the cobalt blue fabric a little faded from how often you’d worn it over the years.

“I remember that,” you say softly as he returns with it and slips it over your head.

It was the first shirt he had ever gotten upon entering Formula 1 and somehow you had wound up snagging it from his closet while he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen during that same trip to Milan. He had choked on his guac when you reappeared wearing it, eyes lingering on the Torro Rosso logo on the chest and his name splayed across your back like a claiming.

"I don't have sweatpants for you anymore," you point out with an apologetic wince. "I got rid of them."

Pierre just shrugs and hands you the shirt. "I have a change of clothes in my backpack. I was planning on working out to blow off some steam if…"

He trails off and you nod in silent acknowledgement. He didn’t have to voice the thought, you were already in his head and knew exactly what he meant. Unable to help himself, he kisses your head just because he can before retrieving his bag from the kitchen. "I have something for you," he says and lets the towel around his waist drop.

You let out a low whistle and grin at him as your eyes slide over every inch of his body. He takes more time than necessary to pull out his shorts, appreciating your gaze. You're still watching him as he slips them on and brings his bag to you.

"Do you wanna see what I got you or are you gonna stare at me all night?"

"I think I'll stare."

Pierre rolls his eyes and chuckles, plopping down next to you. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

You do as he asks but not before cocking a brow at him. Knowing the sound of the package will give it away, he does his best to draw out the first item as quietly as he can. The second he sets it in your hands a smile splits your face. He'd tear down the energy station with his bare hands to keep that expression on your face.

"It's candy." Your eyes open and you gasp. "Laffy taffy? But you can only get this-"

"In the states," He finishes. “I got as much as the store had.” The chewy, fruity candy was your absolute favorite and every once in a while you craved it. His backpack was currently stuffed full of it and various other packages of sweets, having been collected at every gp he had been to since Austin.

You tear into the package and dig for a pink one. You hold it out to him triumphantly and somehow, it’s that simple gesture that makes him melt. “You like the strawberry ones don’t you?”

“Yes baby, I do.” He lets you pop the sweet in his mouth - Pyry would certainly not approve- and grins at you. “If you eat too many before bed you won’t be able to sleep.”

“It’s still early,” you point out but don’t hesitate to set the sweets aside and cuddle up to him when he lays back. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I have to be at Milton by eight,” he says, wrapping an arm around your middle. “But you’re coming with me.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 3 years

Note

Spring troupe (separately) finding notes in their pockets from their s/o reminding them to take care of themselves and that they love them?

A/N: I wrote this as if it was an event that happened regularly! Hope that’s what you meant :) Also I loved writing this so much! This request was so cute, thank you so much anon ;^; Also Masumi has abandonment issues bc I said so and it makes a lot of sense with his character. And apologies Citron’s is the shortest, I’m still working on figuring out his character tbh

CW(s): slight mention of abandonment issues for Masumi

❀ Sakuya Sakuma

He’d be beyond himself when he found the first one

He blushes really hard whenever he reads them you’ve almost pavloved him into blushing every time he feels a piece of paper in his pocket

After a couple times of finding a note, he’ll definitely look forward to days where he finds them

He doesn’t do anything like run to his hoodie and check all his clothes everyday but when he happens to find one it always brings a smile to his face

He’d definitely text you to say thank you and respond with his own small message

He especially needs the reminders to take care of himself during spring though, as theatre takes up so much of his mind and he can get easily preoccupied

Sakuya sat outside in the courtyard, reviewing his script for the nth time. A cool breeze passed through and tousled his hair. He placed a hand in his hoodie pocket, not wanting to get cold; as soon as he reached in he felt a scrap of paper scrape against his hand. Sakuya immediately began to blush and quickly pulled out the paper.

"Reminder to eat today! Hope you have a great day and good luck with rehearsals <3"

He couldn’t help but let a giant grin spread across his face. Then the realization that he hadn’t eaten yet hit him. Omi had just been out not too long ago, or so he thought, to remind him dinner was ready. Sakuya had responded that he’d be there momentarily, but got distracted by the new script.

He quickly got up and began to make his way to the kitchen and dining room. There at the table he saw a handful of the Mankai Company members, including Omi.

“There you are! I was about to go remind you again dinner was ready.”

“Sorry, I got distracted. What did you cook today?”

Omi shook his head. “I didn’t. Izumi did.” Sakuya nodded in acknowledgement, knowing exactly what that meant,

“It’s alright. Now sit down and eat!” Sakuya grabbed a plate and served himself some curry and found a place at an empty seat. He pulled the note out from his pocket again, reading and rereading it again and again just like he did with every note.

After he ate dinner he made sure to text you a thank you.

❀ Tsuzuru Minagi

The first time he found a note he was shocked; he didn’t really have enough time to process it as he was on his way to one of his part-time jobs but during his shift he continued to fumble as he couldn’t get it off his mind

Tsuzuru reached into his pocket for a pen, fingers crossed he didn’t forget one to his server job. He quickly found the writing utensil, but next to it he could feel a scrap of paper. He figured it must have been a reminder he wrote for himself that he forgot about. He pulled the small piece out of his pocket and froze in his tracks once he read it. It wasn’t a note he had written for himself, instead it was a note you had written for him.

"Remember that I care about you and don't forget to take care of yourself today!"

He could barely register the words as he read them, but the immediate emotion he felt was absolute love for you.

He most likely finds any note on his way to a college class or while working one of his part-time jobs

If he finds one while he’s with a member of the Mankai company he probably won’t read it as he prefers to read them when he’s alone since they’re personal and special to him

He tries to keep them but sometimes he just gets disorganized so he may accidentally throw them away; he still has at least half though

He tries his best to follow the notes when they’re reminders (e.g. eating when you remind him to eat) as he doesn’t want to somehow accidentally disappoint you

He definitely needs the reminders when he’s writing scripts as he will not step away from his computer once it comes time for another play; if you leave him a note to eat or drink water there’s a higher chance he’ll at least eat something small or take some sips of water

Since he’s someone who tends to look out for other people, knowing someone is looking after him just makes him incredibly happy

❀ Masumi Usui

He froze as soon as he opened the first note he received as he could barely think; his thoughts were too full of his love for you and he didn’t want it any other way

He probably immediately texted you as soon as he reads it to tell you he loves you and has continued to text you a thank you or ‘ily’ every time he gets a note and decides to check on you in the same message

He loves checking his jackets after he sees you to see if you’ve left a note; and once Tsuzuru told you he checks you started leaving them after every time you went over

He keeps all the notes in a jar on his desk; just seeing them all collected in one place brings a smile to his face

Whenever he feels lonely, or his abandonment issues act up, he brings the jar up to his bed and reads them one by one

Masumi sat in his desk chair, exasperated. He had messaged you a couple times throughout the day and you hadn’t responded despite looking at his messages and he was growing concerned. His mind was beginning to race and he began to assume and fear the worst. Then the jar on his desk caught his eye. He carefully grabbed it, tucked it under one arm, and climbed up to his bed. There he unscrewed the lid and one by one pulled out and read each and every note he had ever gotten from you.

“Reminder that I love you!’

“Remember to eat and drink water <3”

“(ღ˘⌣˘)♥ love you!”

“This song made me think of my feelings for you- Stupid for You by Waterparks <3”

“Good luck with rehearsal today! (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)"

Tears began to well in his eyes and he made sure to wipe them away with the back of his hand, lest he ruin one of the precious notes with his tears. Never had he felt so loved before you, and he mentally noted to tell you how much he appreciated you the next time he saw you.

After having dealt with his parents not being there and growing up with no friends, he values you and your reminders an immense amount

He may try to leave you notes as well, but he’d much rather express his love for you in person

❀ Itaru Chigasaki

The first time he found one of your notes, he was overwhelmed with love for you; he could practically see the ‘+10’ affection points above his head as he read it

Itaru probably finds the notes once he’s at work if you put them in his jacket

His morning is much too hectic to be able to read it while at the dorms, so he tends to read it every time he drains his LP (yes, every time; your notes brighten his day)

Itaru stepped away from his desk. He had been watching the clock as his lunch hour ticked closer and closer, and once the time was reached, he made his way out of the office. Once he got to his car and began to drain his LP, he reached into his pocket to pull out the note you had left in his pocket that morning.

"Don’t forget to refill your stats! Remember to eat something and drink water, and keep in mind that ily <3"

He couldn't help but smile at the note, unlocking his phone to both drain his LP and to message you a quick thank you in response to your nerdy reminder.

If you use gamer lingo or nerdy references in the notes he will be positively enamored

He tends to just put them somewhere in a designated desk drawer, sometimes taping his favorites down to the top of the desk to make sure they don’t get lost and to see them while he games

If he’s streaming and he sees one of the notes on his desk out of the corner of his eye, he always ends up smiling and tends to have a habit of taking a drink of water when he sees one

If you leave a note in his gaming sweatshirt, it may take a bit for him to find it but when he does he’s very grateful -even though he has a smaller chance of actually listening to it-

At times when he’s very preoccupied, he may forget that you leave him notes at all so it’s like a new surprise all over again

❀ Citron

He was incredibly happy when he received his first note from you

After the first note he received, he began leaving notes for you as well

Sometimes the notes can be hard to decipher due to him forgetting and switching up words but it’s the thought that counts

You had left a note on Citron’s desk the night before, and when you arrived at the dorm the next day he thanked you for it and gave you a tight hug. While you were there he was telling stories of his home country. He spoke of the food, the towns, and his pet Juliano.

Eventually it began to get dark and you had to bid your boyfriend a farewell. He gave you a kiss on your cheek as you departed, and offered a smile and wave as you exited out the door.

Once outside the bitter winds nipped at your skin, so you placed your hands in your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm. But once you did so, you could feel a scrap of paper scratch against your fingertips. You quickly pulled it out, wondering what it could be. You unfolded it and there in familiar handwriting you found the following note:

"Remember that I am loving you always! Have a safe trip home and do not forget to crink water!!"

You could assume he meant ‘drink’ instead of ‘crink’. His struggle with language definitely found its way into the notes he gave you, but if anything it made him that much more endearing. On your way home, you made sure to buy a bottle of water.

His notes may sometimes come off as nonsensical due to his issues with language

If you really need help translating it, just ask another troupe member and they should be able to help

He doesn’t check his pockets for notes since he loves the surprise of finding them

❀ Utsuki Chikage

The first time he found a note in his pocket he felt so happy and appreciated it more than anything, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell if you were there due to his amazing poker face

Chikage has guilt and baggage and the fact that you stay with him amazes him, but he’s so grateful

After reading them he does throw the notes away, not because he doesn’t like them, but because they feel so special to him he doesn’t want anyone else to have the opportunity to read the words you wrote especially for him

Because of this, he does his best to memorize them

It was originally difficult to know if he was even finding the notes since he’d never let you know or anything of that such

You had been leaving notes in your boyfriend’s pockets for months now. They were simple notes, things such as, ‘Don’t forget to eat today!’ or ‘Remember I care about you and like you no matter your past’. It shouldn't have made you so nervous that you couldn’t tell if Chikage had actually found them, or if he found them annoying, but knots of anxiety were developing in your stomach. So you decided to call him.

He picked up on the fourth ring, “Chikage Utsuki speaking.”

“Hey, Chikage.”

“Oh, hello. To what may I offer the pleasure of this call?”

“Um,” you paused, collecting your thoughts, “so, I’ve been leaving these little..notes? In your pockets? And I was just curious if you had gotten them or if you found them annoying because if you do I can stop-” a laugh on the other side cut you off. “What? What’s so funny?”

Chikage continued to chuckle, “No, I’ve found them.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, like he didn’t want anyone else but you to hear, “I really appreciate them. Thank you.”

“Oh! Well I’m glad.” you were almost positive Chikage could hear your smile through the phone.

“Was that all?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll see you later. Bye!”

“Goodbye.” the click of the end call button rang in your ears, but you couldn’t help but continue to smile.

After a while, it’s easier to tell when he has recently read a note as he may come off as somewhat more affectionate but whether he does it on purpose or not you can’t completely tell

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Harry Potter

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Harry doesn’t get enough love.)

- You and Harry first meet at Hogwarts but he isn’t really aware of your existence until around fourth year when everyone else in the school turns their backs on him.

- He’s making his way through the crowds of ‘Potter stinks’ buttons when he hears someone call his name. He almost doesn’t stop, expecting the same mocking he’d been receiving all week, but he does stop and there you are, giving him a small, kind smile and telling him that you “just wanted to wish him good luck in the tournament.”.

“I-er, thanks.” He replies awkwardly, looking at you for another quick moment before nodding and quickly retreating.

- A few days later, you were walking around the wooded areas of the school and just so happened to come across him sitting alone. You didn’t want to bother him; especially since you really didn’t know him and you sort of had a crush on the famous boy, but a twig snapped beneath your foot and he quickly glanced up at you, taking away your option of leaving before he saw you.

- Giving a quick hello, apology, and excuse for interrupting him, you moved to walk away before you found yourself turning back and asking if he was alright. It didn’t take him long before he was explaining everything to you and; calmly, ranting about the situation.

- You listen and give him a few words of encouragement before you find yourself walking back to Hogwarts with him, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

- Little by little, the two of you grow closer and become more comfortable with each other; even though he’s sort of forming a crush on you and gets easily flustered by you.

- Probably unsurprisingly, he doesn’t just drop you when Hermione and, more so, Ron go back to being his friends. Instead, you’re welcomed into their little clique, particularly by Hermione who appreciates having another girl in the group and can immediately see that Harry has feelings for you; even if he stutteringly protests to it.

- Funnily enough, initially, he doesn’t even think to ask you to the Yule ball until you’re sitting at breakfast one day and he looks at you and a light just goes off in his head. He’s just as nervous about asking you as he would be with anyone else; probably even more so considering the fact that he’s pretty much in love with you, but he manages to keep his cool a little better with you since you’re supposed to be his friend.

“Erm, y/n? Would you like to go to the ball with me?”

- When you happily agree, he gives you a “brilliant”, his heart racing and a small smile plastered across his lips.

- Godric, the look on his face when he first saw you the day of the ball. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his face turning a delicate shade of pink as you first took his arm and gave him a smile. He was so distracted by you that he hardly even noticed that he needed to start dancing with you, he only snapped out of it when you told him to take you by the waist.

- It’s after the ball that he knows for sure that he’s in love with you, and if he’s able to triumph over dragons and defeat Lord Voldemort at the age of one then he can ask out the girl that he’s fallen for, right? Easier said than done.

- Harry is pretty awful with women. He’s awkward and shy and clumsy, and it’s adorable in retrospect; and in some other cases, but it’s not exactly beneficial to the evolution of your relationship. He keeps trying to confess, keeps wondering how he’s gonna do it, tries to do it but is interrupted in some way or just can’t bring himself to actually say what he wants to.

- It isn’t until fifth year that he finally manages to do so. You’re both left alone in the room of requirement as everyone leaves after their most recent lesson. He walks over to you and the two of you talk. You ask him a few questions, make sure he’s alright with everything that’s happening and before you know it, you’re both drifting closer and kissing each other.

- It’s soft and slow, and when you pull away, he’s got this dazed sort of look on his face that gives you butterflies. He gets a hold of himself as you go to grab your things and leave, calling out to you in a quick explosion of words, asking if you’d go out with him.

- He has to repeat himself so that you can actually understand what he’d asked but once he does, a bright smile spreads across your face and his heart skips a beat as you agree.

- Due to a certain frog-faced substitute headmaster, you can’t exactly express your feelings in public, but just knowing that you’re officially his girlfriend gives him a certain sense of comfort and reassurance that otherwise wouldn’t be there.

- The girl of his dreams is finally his and he couldn’t be happier.

- Harry, in general, just isn’t the type of person to be all over you while you’re out in public. He tends to save most of his affection for when you’re behind closed doors, mainly because he’s a bit shy and easily flustered; especially by you.

- Given the fact that Harry was provided with nothing but negative attention throughout his entire childhood, he’s definitely going to be a bit awkward when it comes to affection. That being said: he loves when you give it to him and really starts to crave it after you first pay him special attention.

- Handholding. He’ll tentatively slip his hand into yours while you’re standing together or grip it tightly as you both excitedly run somewhere.

- He could genuinely hug you for hours if you let him.

- Gentle touches.

- Soft kisses.

- Quick kisses in the midst of danger or when he’s leaving to do something important.

- Kissing his scar.

- Ruffling and playing with his consistently messy hair.

- Hair petting. He’ll usually stroke his hand down/through your hair as you kiss.

- Long, loving snogging sessions. Sometimes, you’ll pull off his glasses so that you can kiss him better and he just melts.

- He loves cuddling with you; it’s one of the things that really bring him comfort. You’ll usually be the little spoon whenever you do, he’ll bury his face in your hair and wrap his arms tight around you, not letting go until morning.

- Considering the fact that he has like zero experience with girls, he usually just calls you by your name since that’s what seems most natural to him.

- Flustering him whether you mean to or not; it’s usually quite easy to do since he’s so inexperienced with girls.

- Getting mini gifts. A piece of candy here, a little trinket there, things like that.

- Dates at the Three Broomsticks. He loves kissing you and tasting the butterbeer on your lips.

- Dancing together.

- Spending time alone in the room of requirements.

- Sneaking around all the unknown tunnels and rooms of Hogwarts with him.

- Him using the invisibility cloak to come see you and sneak the two of you out somewhere.

- Study dates.

- Him helping teach you spells and defensive magic. He likes seeing that look of glee on your face when you do something right, and having the excuse to hold and guide your hand/stand close to you.

- Watching his eyes widen in shock and a smile spread across his face when you do something impressive. He’s so proud of you.

- Awkwardly and shyly reading news articles written about the two of you. Your parents have quite the reaction when they find out you’re dating the boy wizard himself.

- Hagrid gushing over and teasing the two of you. He sometimes gets a little sentimental seeing the two of you together. He knew Harry when he was such a wee little thing and here he is, all grown up and in such a lovely little relationship.

- Cheering him on at Quidditch games regardless of what house you’re in. It makes him so happy to see you rooting for him.

- Endearing sarcasm. He can be a smartass when he wants to be.

- Attempting to write to him over the summer.

- Having him stay with you over the summer or at least letting him visit for some time once you hear how he’s treated by the Dursley’s.

- Running to hug him when you’re finally reunited at the beginning of the school year.

- Being teased by Malfoy. Harry has probably almost killed him a couple of times; only stopped by the fact that Ron was holding him back.

- Hermione and Ron giving the two of you looks.

- Becoming a part of the golden “trio” and having double dates with Ron and Hermione.

- Accompanying him on adventures and quests.

- When everything starts to turn to shit around you, he may try to break up with you in order to protect you. He loves you too much to risk you getting hurt because of him.

- Standing by him, even when things go wrong and other people desert him.

- Comforting him. Harry has gone through a lot and though he won’t admit it to most people, he needs a little support. You’re his rock and he couldn’t live without you.

- He always tries his best to comfort you, even though he usually has no idea how or if his plan will work. That being said, he always just seems to know how to cheer you up.

- He’s a pretty jealous person but he tries to hide it most of the time. He hates the thought; and sight, of you with other boys and gets a bit annoyed whenever he sees you with them. He’ll be a bit passive aggressive when you go over to him, saying he’s “brilliant” when you ask what’s wrong. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

- He’s always surprised whenever you actually get jealous over him but he sort of likes it. He feels bad that you’re upset and reassures you that he only loves you but he can’t deny that it feels nice to know that you care enough about him to be jealous.

- Overprotective. After everything that’s happened to him and the people around him, he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing on earth. He’d defend you with his life if he had to.

- Harry tends to give you a sort of silent treatment when he’s mad, usually before saying something passive aggressive or harsh when you don’t really acknowledge his behavior or go to leave him alone. You’ll most likely argue until the issue is solved or until he shuts you out, either doing so by walking away in a huff or causing you to leave by his lack of responses.

- Regardless of whether you were in the wrong or if he was, he’s most likely the one to approach you. If you were in the wrong, he’ll come up to you and make some comment, trying to prompt an apology; because that’s all he really wants.

- If he’s in the wrong, he’ll feel really guilty and keep staring over at you until he can’t take it and finally asks if you can talk. He’ll ask how you are before telling you that he’s sorry and that he knows he was wrong. After he does so, he’ll ask if you forgive him/if you guys can go back to normal, smiling and kissing your cheek when you agree.

- There's quite a few I love you’s in your relationship. He loves hearing you say it; even though it flusters him, and he just feels the need to let you know how much he cares about you; especially as you get older and he loses more people without being able to let them know how important they were to him.

- The two of you will have to go through some difficult situations but he knows he wants to be with you for the rest of his life. You just need to get through this rough patch and then you can have a perfect little life together.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter imagines #harry potter headcanons #hp headcanons #hp imagines #hp imagine #hp headcanon

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allmightluver · 3 years

Note

So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA.

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another.

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*)

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink.

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together. Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date! And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again. (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle.

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply. Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to.

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

#lover talks #ask me #head canons #EraserMight #sorry this took me so long :(#Thanks for putting up with me <3 #all might #toshinori Yagi #Eraserhead #Aizawa shouta #relationships #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

Don't you think it's just a bit racist to turn Mammon, a non-black POC, black and darkening Simeon, the one black characters skin to be darker? Especially on official artwork?(and no excuse about them being angels and demons so they're not *technically* any race, if that's the case then lightening Simeons skin is equally okay by that logic, which is obviously also terrible and racist and should also be called out when it happens).

Okay I guess this is a very debated topic but 1, none of them have confirmed races - just because they're pale doesn't mean they are white. They could be Asian - just like if they have darker skin doesn't automatically make them black. There is no canon race of the characters, we don't know their racial history.

But some of the characters EG: Diavolo, mammon and Simeon all obviously aren't white - it's clear from their skin alone that they are a person of colour. (and maybe even Barbatos)

My example as this is human world clothes; no one else dresses like this (except for the Japanese culture event) and it is obviously has many references and design to east Asian clothing. So there could be an argument that barbatos is Asian which means, he isn't white.

I'm glad you acknowledge that turning a darker skinned chatacter white/pale is racist itself as we call that "white Washing" something that happens alot in fandoms and just racist artists.

An act someone does to make an obviously non white chatacter white because they believe it'll make them look more appealing and they wish to erease the characters culture and race for racist reasons.

But turning an already non white chatacter darker isn't racist. Now, forgive me - I am a white man who bases his opinions on non white voices on what is racist and what isn't. As I wouldn't know what it's like to have faced racism myself and doesn't understand or spot all the things that are engrained in our perspective and society because of my race.

So, by listening to these voices I have been told that making a chatacter black or POC isn't bad or racist. of course, not everyone will agree but most voices I hear are the ones that say it isn't racist.

These are the posts you're referring to, my HC/redesign post. I got their skin tones from doing their skin colour and adding multiple - now for mammon there was a few tweaks with vibrance and changing the tone from red to orange.

My headcanon's are that Simeon and mammon are both Indian with mammon being a black Indian. So I made them look how I HC them.

That is the whole point of these redesigns. Though, editing your HC on official artwork is common in multiple fandoms I have in so I don't really see the issue of editing official work because at the end of the day - your HC is just a HC and won't change canon.

But many people do racial HC as a way to show representation where there isn't any or add more diversity where it might be lacking. Or perhaps, to make your favourite character look like you because you can't find good rep in media.

Not all reputation is good reputation.

But on the topic of changing colour, here's some comparisons I've quickly done with official art and my edit.

Not all of these skin tones match and even in a few its closer to my edit than the official art work I edited. Lighting does come into play of course but are these artists also racist because they've made Simeon, whilst his skin tone more vibrant, darker than his official sprite? Shouldn't you be posting about why this is 'racist'.

I also did comparisons with mammon but Tumblr has an image limit.

Also speaking about colour racism; what about Diavolo? In my edit I changed his skin to be darker but here's the thing, I was matching it to look like his demon form as the Devs are known to make Diavolo darker when demonic. Which is rooted in colourism.

Obey me has this strange thing of have their colours closer in the grey scale than anything vibrant which is extremely noticeable in their darker skinned characters. But once again, another example of changing skin colours in official art done by hired artists.

Again, are you making posts about this? Are you calling out actual racism and colourism in game and in the community or are you just going into anon on random people's Tumblr posts trying to say their racist for making a chatacter darker?

I don't see how me making them darker is racist or is even comparable to making a character lighter/white. Because while they don't have canon ethnicities and races it's so obvious that there are characters who aren't white.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #tw: racism #tw: colourism #arcades art #arcade's edit #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me Diavolo #obey me race #obey me racism

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backtoyuta · 3 years

Text

WayV: Your first date with them --------------------------------------------------------------------------

❁ [Kun] cliche dinner; A simple but intimate date, a hole in the wall restaurant that you never thought twice about. He starts with his shirt worn neatly, but as time goes on he becomes more and more relaxed and he rolls up the sleeves, unbuttons the top button, his hair is messy from running his hand through it absentmindedly. Compliments that start off confident, but always punctuated by shy smiles and rosy cheeks. He lets you try some of his food and has to catch the smile on his face while you munch and contemplate if you like it. Forgo a taxi so you can walk home slowly together and make the night feel longer, hands bumping together occasionally before he finally grabs your fingers and interlocks them; kisses your cheek tenderly before he leaves you at your door.

❁ [Ten] artsy date; Takes you to a fashion museum and other little exhibitions. Intertwines your fingers occasionally and lets them go because he's that kind of a tease. Speaks quietly and lowly so as not to disturb the people around you looking at exhibits quietly. Bends close to your head when you talk, so you're always catching whiffs of his cologne. Interprets artwork horribly just to hear you laugh, but you leave the exhibition inspired none the less. Bounce ideas off of each other, by the time the date is over you're one investment away from starting a clothing business together. He asks a lot of questions about your home life to know you better, loves talking about childhood memories. Is scheduling the second date before the first is already over before leaning in slowly for a kiss.

❁ [Winwin] late night escapade; Prefers night time because places aren't as crowded, theres more room for privacy. Doesn't want to overdo it on flamboyancy so just takes you to a bar instead. Struggles to look you in the eye but it's because he's so nervous. Prefers to listen to you than to talk about himself, and tries to come up with subtle ways to distract you from how late it's getting so he can make the night feel longer. Spend most of the date walking and talking, faces illuminated by street lamps, soft laughter at the gaggle of club goers acting foolish and drunk as they walk past you. Redirects you nearly three times down a different street when he felt you were a little too close to your home. Mentions having the second date at his place so if it got too late you could just stay over, tries to act cool when saying it; fails.

❁ [Lucas] friendzone purgatory; The kind of date where you're not actually sure if it is a date or not, because you were supposed to be with a group of people and you've never been alone with him for this long before. A casual date, walking around public parks and play areas, buying ice cream at convenience stores and him acting like yours is dripping a mess just so he can have a lick. Lots of banter, playfully pushing him and him accidentally sending you flying when he retaliates with his strength. Both of you being secretly glad you were alone rather than with the group you were initially meeting with, constantly joking about being on a date, but it's becoming less and less of a joke every time you mention it. Playing childish games like "I spy" and Hide and Seek before acknowledging the sun going down and opting to just go back to his and hang for a bit.

❁ [Xiaojun] went on for way longer than you prepared; glancing at the clock you did a double take when noticing the time. The day you had planned was ruined by rotten weather, so you both improvised and did fun activities at your place instead. It was a very low-pressure date; digging out your old board games and losing it over a game of "operation", baking pre-mixed cookies to eat with warm drinks while racing raindrops down a window. Telling each other stories about your childhood; times when you and your siblings didn't talk for 3 days straight, how you broke your leg, recalling the worst first date you've ever been on and him laughing along with you. Dragging all your cozy blankets downstairs to set up in the living room and sprawling out on the sofa. It was halfway through the Studio Ghibli marathon did you realise it was almost midnight and the room had gotten incredibly dark. The rain hadn't stopped, the atmosphere went undisturbed, and you realised you were having too much of a good time, which is why it slipped by too fast.

❁ [Hendery] group arcade date; A date with just the two of you felt like too much pressure, so he opted for a group activity where he could get to know you better. You spent the whole afternoon challenging each other to different games, the competitive spark becoming confused with a spark of chemistry, but fun none the less. Sitting next to each other in the booth of the diner style restaurant, muscles aching from laughter, wiping ketchup from the corner of his mouth. People giving you the side eye because you and your friends are becoming a little too rowdy, placing all or nothing bets on the next arcade game only to take it back and play it again on something else. Falling out of step with your other friends so you can have one-on-one conversations, drawn out hugs when it's time to say goodbye, him texting you not even 10 minutes after he left.

❁ [Yangyang] classic Netflix and chill; Yangyang is young, and says a lot of stuff out of pocket, so the low maintenance date is probably what he's looking for. Arriving at his and immediately going to order a pizza, playfully arguing over movies and bouncing between streaming platforms trying to decide what to watch. Sitting a careful distance away from him to start with but by the end of the night you're shoulder to shoulder and legs pressed up against each other's. Him talking over the movie constantly, having pillows at the ready to throw at his face when he tries to scare you during the horror film you're watching. Looking up at him for a second when he's been quiet for a little too long and immediately feeling his lips capture yours. The next hours are spent watching the movie occasionally, but concentrating more on his hands casually slung around your waist, practically lying on top of each other, the film becoming more of a background noise than anything.

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cobaincreates · 4 years

Text

smart decisions

warnings: drinking, angst, smut, fingering, nsfw, 18+

count: 10k+

hiiiiiiiii so i’m a horndog & i can’t get enough of rafe cameron (or drew) or college rafe & i also wanna cry over them so here you go. let me know whatcha thinkin’. please i’m begging you.

also the photo isn’t mine i got it from here!

songs i imagined - this one & this one

— — —

transferring colleges had to have been your smartest decision to date. going from putting your strengths into a place that was not willing to acknowledge them to, now, receiving credit where credit was most deservingly due. your first choice for school had been some place close to home, you figured why not opt for the cheaper option to save yourself, and your parents, a little money. you spent a few months getting into the swing of things, heading to class each day with a fresh mind and hopeful thoughts. it wasn’t until six months in that you realized you deserved so much better, and at a better school.

it took time, figuring out your best bet and where to go and all the finances. you definitely grew impatient a year in, trying to stick it out at home to receive your credits. but once the moment arrived, you packed all your things and moved states away. you loved it; you loved the classes, you loved your friends, you loved your professors. you were completely happy with your choice to go. your parents might not have been, but the weekly calls home for your progress report were substitute enough.

wednesday, 5 p.m.

you scribbled a doodle you had been going over and over, darkening the lines so much you saw it behind your eyelids now. you snapped out of it and looked back at your textbook.

the library was so quiet, you heard pages being turned from every corner, the chewing of gum from a tense jaw, and the soft snores of someone passed out in one of the private cubicles across the way. none of those things distracted you really since you had come to the study session with a couple of your friends, all three of you making a pact to get shit done.

melly was able to listen to music while she studied and was more of a typer as her fingers moved fast along the keys of her laptop. she came dressed in her comfiest clothes, sporting a knit sweater and joggers. lina had snacks across the table to keep her sustained. she was a strong believer that she learned better while being fed. it made you laugh still. she was a writer like you, very organized in her notes with highlighters and different colored pens. she even drew headers for each page for the hell of it. you wondered where she got the drive. then there was you, black ink, the main topic underlined, things to remember written repeatedly. you learned better after writing things down, you couldn’t just read a book and have the information implanted in your brain. as much as you wished it were that easy.

you were studying for an upcoming psychology test, one that you were sure would be a piece of cake given how well you did in the class itself. it was one you didn’t plan on taking, but you needed another course to get enough credits for the year.

lina was munching on some almonds, turning a page in her notebook, and picking up a blue pen. you were in the middle of writing a definition down and filling up the last of the page, your hand starting to cramp with how much pressure you were using. you flexed it once you put your pen down and squeezed an imaginary ball.

both yours and lina’s eyes flicked up to melly across the table who let out a low moan. she was pulling her headphones off and looking in the completely opposite direction of her computer.

“why is he so fine?” she asked, low enough for the two of you to hear.

you looked over your shoulder at the same time lina did and searched in the general area melly was focused on. all you saw was a guy walking through the library, sporting a backpack and a lacrosse sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head.

“he really knows what he’s doing, huh?” lina said dreamily.

you furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him turn into a row of books and you glanced at melly as you faced the other way, planning on getting back to your work. melly was dazed as she still looked in his direction.

“who is that?” you asked after a moment of both of them still ogling.

lina turned toward you as melly closed her laptop a little to lean over it. “what did you just say?”

you looked between the two identical shocked expressions and laughed helplessly. “who is that?”

“oh, i forgot. you’re still new.” melly nodded in semi-acceptance then became serious. “that’s rafe cameron. he’s on the lacrosse team and we’re kind of obsessed with him.”

“it’s alarming,” lina said. she gave a quick glance over her shoulder then looked back at her notebook. “i love making myself sad over him not noticing me, but it’s fine. what’s even more alarming is how he’s still single.”

“i cannot express to you, y/n, how good,” melly emphasized, squeezing her eyes shut, “he looks with a little sweat.”

“you guys sound like stalkers.” you pointed out, smiling a little at their explanations.

“i’m not denying it. i said it was alarming.” lina shrugged as she looked from her textbook to her writing. “we’ve talked to him a couple of times at some parties, he’s a super nice guy but we just find him attractive. i think if i were a freshman, i’d be pathetically pining after him.”

melly hummed in agreement, her chin now propped in her palm. she wore a doe-like look, gazing between yours and lina’s heads and into the bookshelves. “don’t they have a game tomorrow? we should go.”

“it’s away.” lina said, but you had already lost interest in the topic and started reading a new chapter. you picked your pen back up, the muscles in your hand now relaxed, and the boy in the bookshelves out of your mind.

monday, 9 a.m.

you were going to be late and you hated the thought. there was no way you could miss this test when you had done nothing but study every last page for it. you even lost track of how many pages of notes you wrote for the test alone. it would be such a waste to miss it and it wasn’t worth getting a negative grade.

being late was not at all your fault. you had set your alarm early, eaten breakfast and read a few more chapters to get ahead, and packed your bag up so you’d be ready after a quick shower. turned out that all the showers on your floor were broken, the yellow “do not cross” tape like a bad omen. you started muttering to yourself as you carried along your shower caddy, going down to the next floor and finding a line to wait in. you knew it was probably your best bet instead of racing to another floor to check if there were more lines, plus you didn’t know how much time you had. you probably annoyed some people with the fidgeting, but all you could think about was the test.

it was ridiculous how long the showers took and how you had to leave your hair damp as you ran back up physical stairs. you burst through your door, threw your bathroom things on your bed, grabbed your bag and the few books you couldn’t stuff in. while leaving, the door shutting behind you, you made do with damp hair, twisting it up and out of your face. as you checked the time, you figured out that you had eight minutes exactly to get across campus and in your seat with a writing utensil ready.

even though you were late, you still held doors open for people, and you dodged others walking the opposite direction instead of the other way around. you kept checking the time as if the minutes would stop moving.

just as you were looking into your bag, your legs moving fast and assuredly, you ran right into something hard. you dropped the textbooks that you had been clutching, even with a death grip on them, and your bag slipped from your shoulder. a notebook poked out along with a pen rolling away on the walkway.

“woah,” the hard surface said.

“i’m so sorry, i was not looking.” you said quickly and bent down to get your things. of course, this would happen while you were in a rush. you supposed you were lucky it didn’t involve cars. god, that would’ve been so much worse.

“nah, it’s alright.” they said easily and bent down beside you, retrieving your things.

you scrambled for everything and shoved the notebook back into your bag. you spotted your keychain near their foot, their fingers closing around it before you could reach for it. you finally looked up as they held the key out to you, the ring hanging from their finger.

rafe cameron.

he looked different now that you could see his face better. and also, because he was so close this time. it was odd to know now that he had blue eyes and a light ghosting of stubble along his jaw and cheeks. it felt too personal being this close to someone you only knew the name of.

you felt a little silly for bumping into him, but you didn’t let it show. “thank you,” you said as you took the key from him and stood quickly to walk away. lina and melly surely wouldn’t give this up when you told them.

rafe had watched after you for a moment before turning back to his friend topper, raising his eyebrows in reference to what happened, and continuing their conversation.

you made it to class about three minutes late and sat in your seat, finally taking a breath. you settled in, putting your things at your feet, and digging around for a pen. all thoughts of bumping into rafe cameron left your mind.

8 p.m.

“you what?” melly coughed violently as she composed herself. lina was clutching her stomach, nearly dying of hysterics when the drink came out of melly’s nose a second earlier.

you held your head in your hands and inwardly groaned at having to tell the story. you were out to dinner with the two girls, munching on french fries and milkshakes. it was typical for you three to hang out on mondays since melly usually had a bad case of them each week. you had innocently slipped in that you just so happened to run into rafe cameron this morning and well, you hadn’t expected that to be melly’s reaction.

“i ran into him. i was late this morning and i wasn’t looking.” you could feel the embarrassment settle in as you recounted the minor event, at least to you.

“did he say anything?” her eyes were blown wide as she leaned across the table.

“i didn’t try to have a conversation with him.” you shrugged and picked at the plate of fries at the center of the table. melly gave you a look of mild bewilderment, the shock of it wearing off.

“missed opportunity.” lina joked, taking a long sip of her shake. “i wouldn’t know what to say either if i ran into him.”

you felt your shoulders loosen as the topic was slowly changing. melly laughed at lina’s remark, teasing her that she would’ve frozen up from bumping into anybody. you smiled and were glad that both of them didn’t take the story too seriously.

minutes later you were laughing loudly, head thrown back as melly was telling a story about her family and a public mishap with a tire. it was interesting to you to hear about what it was like growing up in a completely different environment than the one you did. you supposed that’s something you loved about college; getting to meet people from so many other states and cities.

you were smiling to yourself as you dipped a fry into your shake. just as you put it into your mouth and looked across the table at melly, her composure changed.

“oh, fuck.” she whispered and noticeably tried to look away. “don’t look.”

both you and lina turned around to look toward the front door. a dense group of bodies was coming in through the door, the atmosphere’s volume increasing with their chatter. toward the back you recognized rafe cameron. you weren’t sure at all what it was that made your heart clench in your chest.

“i said don’t look!” melly whispered louder. “oh, god. okay. act normal.” melly straightened up, trying not to be obvious with looking in their direction. you laughed and sat back in the seat. lina practically sunk into hers.

you didn’t watch as they approached, but you did look up once rafe entered your peripheral vision. he was with the guy from this morning, even if you hadn’t noticed him before. you just remembered rafe crouched in front of you while someone just as tall stood behind him, waiting. both of them were sporting lacrosse sweatshirts, along with some others in the group.

“hey, rafe.” melly said easily like she hadn’t just been freaking out over him a second ago.

you watched rafe lift his chin, smiling genuinely at her. you didn’t think anything of it when he glanced at you, the recognition so obvious as his face changed. he continued to walk to his table though, eyes steady on you for what felt like too long.

melly turned around and sank over the table, her mouth open in shock. “oh my god,” she said above the surface.

“oh my god,” lina said, turning to you in bafflement. “i feel like i’m in an alternate universe. did that just happen?”

“he just recognized me.” you brushed it off.

“no, y/n, he knew you. that was longer than five seconds.”

“why are you guys so obsessed with him anyways?” you laughed, trying to take the attention off you.

lina shrugged, seeming taken aback with the question. “i don’t really know.”

“because he’s gorgeous, that’s why.” melly intervened, dipping a fry into her shake.

you looked over melly’s shoulder, wondering what it was exactly that was so intriguing about the lacrosse player. you had had your fair share of athletes and could agree on some being drop dead gorgeous. maybe rafe cameron was just a nice guy all around and melly and lina just had pleasant interactions with him. maybe he was the type of college boy that looked out for everyone’s wellbeing and that’s what made your friends obsess over him. it could be a number of things.

thursday, 8 p.m.

you rubbed your eyes, yawning in the middle of it, and lay back on your bed. you had just closed your computer after typing up a 10-page essay. it was nine when you started it this morning. you were just glad your one class of the day was canceled and that you had time to write the paper before next week. plus, there were no classes tomorrow, and you could have a whole day of doing nothing. you were stoked, to say the least.

feeling a vibration beside you, you reached for your phone and opened a text from lina. incoming in 5, it said, followed by a rattling of knocks on your door. you rolled off the bed and shuffled over, finding her and melly with wide smiles. it was infectious as you felt your own smile appearing on your face.

“what are you guys doing here?” you asked curiously, stepping aside to let them in. the door clicked softly shut as you followed melly to your bed where she went to sit. lina leaned against the wall across from you, careful of your roommate’s things.

“we were invited to a party and we were wondering if you wanted to come with.” lina said, sharing a quick look with melly.

you glanced between them, eyes narrowing. “what’s so special about this party?”

“god, how can you even tell that?” melly asked, slightly rolling her eyes.

“you guys have known each other longer than i've known either of you, but you’re easy to read.” you laughed.

“i don’t like that.” melly said quietly to herself.

you grinned at her, noting her curls springing around her face. melly usually had her hair pulled back out of the way and it was very rare to see her with a different hairstyle. there had been some days where she had braids and you enjoyed seeing the change of pace. lina on the other hand always let her hair down. tonight though, she had straightened it and thrown it into a high ponytail. you hadn’t really gone to a lot of parties with the girls, so seeing them all done-up was always fascinating.

“seriously, what’s the deal?” you asked again, looking to lina since she was the one who had proposed the idea.

she shared another look with melly again before finally coming out with it. “it’s at rafe cameron’s apartment.”

you felt that clenching again in your chest, in that same spot from last night. you swallowed, feeling how dry your mouth was in the span of three seconds.

“well, it’s his and topper’s apartment, so not technically just his.” lina said, waving her hand in enunciation. she crossed her arms. “i have this study group with topper and he invited me and mel and anyone else really.”

“come on, it’ll be fun.” melly said, nudging your arm.

you looked at the girl beside you, ready to say no mostly in panic of seeing rafe. you had nothing to worry about or freak out over, but it was a scary thought. so many things happened at parties. so many things could happen.

“okay,” you said easily.

the prior fears dissipated quickly as lina and melly gave a small cheer and encouraged you to get ready, and to take your time. you spent the next ten minutes asking them what you should wear, going through your side of the closet. all three of you agreed on a plaid skirt you had bought a few weeks before on a spontaneous shopping trip. you only wore it once since then and had been meaning to pull it out again. you paired it with a sweater, something easy to keep you warm through the night instead of bringing a jacket along. lina and melly agreed excitedly when you changed and raised your eyebrows, searching for approval.

9 p.m.

holding on tightly to lina’s hand, you laughed hysterically to the point of tears and a clear indicator in the nether region that you had to pee, badly. a connie bailey rae cover was playing from a speaker near you, your laughter probably not as loud as you thought it to be as you calmed down. melly stopped her ridiculous reenactment and pulled an exaggerated disgusted face as she dodged someone trying to dance with her. you shook with laughter and took a long sip of your drink, tilting your head back to finish it in one gulp.

the party had been way more fun than you thought it would be, especially when you walked the four blocks to get there. lucky for you, you had been smart and worn flat boots. the apartment was a good size for the event and had plenty of space to gather, enough left over for those that wanted a break from either dancing or just to relax. some people you didn’t recognize had the large tv on, a video game on the bright screen. there was plenty of shouting coming from their general direction, a wave of arms and pointing of rigid fingers.

you had seen rafe in passing, but never made the initial eye contact as if to let each other know that you were near. stepping into the apartment and being greeted with his friend topper, you felt like you were intruding or trespassing by being in rafe’s space. you didn’t know him, or topper for that matter, and it felt odd to you to be in their physical home.

“where’s the bathroom?” you asked lina as melly went to get more snacks.

lina stood up on her toes and pointed at a closed door. “i'm pretty positive it’s over there.”

you gave her a nod and walked in the direction she pointed you in, finding a couple people waiting against the wall. you took a place there and acted as a fly on the wall for a total of five minutes since the line went fast. once inside, you took a deep breath, feeling refreshed at the open window and the cool air coming in.

you dried your hands and placed the towel back where it was on the counter and opened the door. the next person waiting rushed in rather quickly, making you stumble against the doorway. you laughed to yourself and felt the rush of sudden wind as the door slammed.

excusing yourself past a small group, you headed toward the refreshments. you were already thirsty after having emptied your bladder seconds before, but you were aware it was just the addictive alcohol buzzing through your system. it was crowded closer to the drinks, rightfully so, and it only took one person to move for you to see rafe acting as a stand-in bartender.

part of you wanted to run right back out of the kitchen and find lina and melly, but the other part of you wanted to give a swift kick to your rear. you chose the latter and walked over to where he was at the counter. he was in the middle of pouring someone else’s drink and you stood on his other side, taking in his appearance while you still could. the blue hat on his head read “obx”, turned backwards. he wore an off-white t-shirt, the graphic design on the back drawing you in. you were too busy staring at his shoulders molded with the fabric to realize he had turned around and you were now staring at his chest. you blinked up at his face, smiling lightly.

“hi.” he said, a small lilt to his voice as he recognized you once again.

“hi.”

“can i get you something?” he asked, and you felt your shoulders falter a little, thinking that was all he was going to say to you. stick to his image of drink tender and have you go on your way. but his body told you differently as he turned fully to face you.

“um, i can get it.” you said, the instant flight taking effect at the very prospect of being shot down.

rafe nodded and stepped out of the way, moving further into the corner of the counter. you smiled at him and poured your own drink, mixing up your favorite. rafe still stood there and you could feel the strong vice his eyes had on you. it made you a little self-conscious, but you relaxed with a deep breath.

“i never got your name.” rafe said just as you took a sip and turned to leave the kitchen. “you know, from the other day.”

“that’s because i was too busy bumping into you.” you let out a small laugh and stepped closer to him, out of the way if someone wanted a drink. you turned your back to the fridge and tried to find a spot to lean on as rafe looked down at you, a smile playing at his lips. “i am sorry about that again. i was in a rush for a class.”

“it’s no problem. i’m just glad you’re okay, we hit pretty hard.”

“y/n.” you said and held out a hand respectfully.

“rafe,” he slipped his hand into yours, warm and strong, and smiled widely.

“i think i’ve heard your name only a million times in the past week.” you admitted, knowing that lina and melly would kill for brownie points. “my friends are a bit obsessed with you and fully willing to educate the newbie.”

“obsessed, huh? lina and mel, right?”

you nodded and took another sip. rafe reached on the counter and grabbed a handful of pretzels. he held some out to you. “they’re nice girls,” rafe said easily. “i’ve hung out with them a couple times, but i didn’t know they were obsessed.” he laughed to himself.

you munched on a pretzel and froze at an idea. “you’re not going to tell them i told you, are you?”

“not unless you want me to.”

you stared at him for a bit longer than you planned, then let out a breath and took another pretzel from his hand. it was odd to be sharing food with him when just the other day you felt like your heart was tearing in your chest. at the moment, you could only feel a dull ache.

“so, how do you like it?” rafe asked.

“like what?”

“campus, the college.”

you nodded and swallowed some of your drink to wash the pretzels down. “things have been really great. i enjoy it here. it’s an immense difference than my first college back home, so i’m happy.”

rafe smiled. “and the party?”

you followed his nod to the people around you, glancing to your original spot where you left lina. you didn’t see her anywhere until some people moved and you found her and melly sat on the couch. they were playing the video game with a whole mess of guys. you grinned.

“the party is great.” you commended, looking back at him. he had finished the rest of the pretzels in his hand.

“good.” he nodded. “i always get nervous when top and i invite people over. we’ve done it a bunch of times, but there’s always the possibility of something going wrong.”

“well, you’re doing great. both of you. hopefully, nothing horrible happens.”

11 p.m.

you would be lying if you said that your conversation with rafe from hours ago wasn’t still running through your head. it was difficult not to think about it when you kept seeing him more often throughout the party. most of the time you’d catch his eye, or vice versa, and instantly smile. you’d then recall the sound of his laugh and would even hear it from feet away. the clenching in your chest was now accompanied by a swirling in your stomach.

you were pacing yourself with your drinks, but by now you were on your fifth of the night. you were completely aware of everything around you and you were enjoying the ongoing buzz. lina and melly were a bit more inebriated than you were, which only added to the fun.

the two girls in front of you were swaying to a song together, not even close to being slow tempo. it was very upbeat, the bass pumping through the walls. the front door to the apartment was now open since it had begun to get warmer with the more and more people that were joining. a few windows were thrown open as well.

“you remember how in freshman year you fell down that flight of stairs and twisted your ankle and practically bashed your head in and then your mom yelled at you and then your sister called to tell you she was pregnant and then your dad! oh my god, and then your dad was like ‘hey i’m thinking of leaving your mom so uh, yeah’ and then your mom was so pissed but then she was fine because she found a total hunk of a man to replace your dad like that,” melly snapped her fingers as your body started to shake with laughter. lina was laughing too, not at all bothered with a quick recap of her, very shitty, first year.

“yes, thank you for reminding me mel. i love when we have tantalizing conversation like this.” lina leaned her head against the others’.

mel giggled, a few hiccups escaping. “i think i need to pee.”

“god, you’re like a peeing machine.” lina sighed and tightened her arm around melly.

“that’s what drinking will do to you.”

lina rolled her eyes and looked at you as she brought melly to the bathroom. you asked quickly if she needed help, but she shook her head and promised they’d be back soon. you watched them go then turned back to the party, turning too fast and not feeling the presence behind you in the moment. a cool liquid pooled over and down your chest, soaking the fabric of your sweater. you gasped at the contact, your mouth dropping open and looking down at the dark stain.

“i— “ you looked up to tell the person it was fine before an apology came out, finding that off-white t-shirt on a very familiar blue-eyed person. “we have to stop meeting like this.”

rafe looked horrified at having spilled his drink all over your sweater, his eyes wide as they stared at your chest.

“that’s the most cliché thing to say.” you said, laughing lightly to ease the tension so obvious in his features.

he let out a laugh too. “you can borrow something of mine. come on,” he held out his hand and you took it willingly, realizing some people were staring at the accident way too curiously. you let rafe lead you up the stairs, the complete darkness on the landing causing you to focus solely on his hand in yours.

rafe opened a door and flipped a light on, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. he led you further in and closed the door behind you before rushing to his dresser, a whole display of cologne bottles on top. as he rummaged through the drawers, you stood just in front of the door, a little timid to step further in. you were holding your sweater away from your chest, already feeling the stickiness of liquid on your skin.

“how’s this one?” he asked, holding out a simple white one.

“you don’t have to give me a shirt.”

“it’s the least i can do. the bathroom is right there.” he handed the shirt to you and nodded just behind your shoulder. you thanked him and went in, closing the door with a click. you pulled the sweater off and dampened a washcloth, wiping the dried drink from your skin. pulling the shirt on, you relished in how soft it was and styled the piece of fabric so it looked better with your skirt.

rafe was sitting on a couch next to his bed, more like a futon, his hands in his pockets and hat off his head. he looked up as you came out, straightening his posture and looking you up and down.

“i’m sorry.” he smiled guiltily.

you smiled and walked over, moving around the small circular coffee table and sitting next to him. “guess it was payback for the other day,” you teased as you folded your sweater and set it next to you.

rafe rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. you glanced at him as you leaned back, feeling the softness and rigidness of the futon. “you look good in my shirt.”

“i feel better in a less damp one.” you said, easing the fluttering in your stomach. your chest clenched again as you crossed your legs.

glancing around rafe’s room, you admired the movie posters on the walls and the multiple lacrosse paraphernalia. one of his jerseys lay crumpled at the end of his bed, the comforter pulled over the pillows to look made. it was better than you did with your bed, you were pretty sure yours was unmade and messy.

it was a decent sized room, plus the bathroom was nice to have. you’d kill for your own bathroom again. it would be nice not to wait in a line. you told yourself that you just had to figure out an earlier schedule so you could beat the crowd.

after a once-over of rafe’s room, you looked over at him to find him already looking at you. he was fully analyzing your face, you could see his eyes flickering to different parts.

you swallowed and licked your lips. “what?”

“nothing.” he said quickly and sighed, laying his head back on the couch.

you squinted at him, now tracing over his features. he looked nervous from what you could tell, his hands moving in his pockets. you stared at his chest moving up and down slowly, the intake of breath coming as it grew bigger. his adam’s apple protruded, bobbing slightly as he swallowed. your chest clenched once again as you looked at his face, watching him look up at the ceiling. he really was handsome. you shifted in your seat, switching your leg over the other.

“that look wasn’t nothing.” you commented, breathing in.

“what look?” he turned his head toward you, eyebrows slightly pushing together. you watched every change in his face, from his eyebrows to his eyes blinking then to his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“the look of ‘i want to eat you up’.”

he laughed, the couch shaking with him. “what does that entail?”

“major gazing and bedroom eyes.”

“bedroom eyes, huh?” he hummed and lifted his head. his lips tugged at a smirk.

“am i imagining things?” you asked seriously, slightly doubting if you made the right call. maybe he wasn’t thinking what you thought he had been. maybe you were imagining things.

rafe didn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. the smirk alone told you that you had been right. his hands flexed in his pockets, hard for you to miss. a few silent minutes passed, the both of you listening to the party still going on downstairs.

“if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.” you said quietly. after a moment you figured he hadn’t heard you, that he had lost himself in staring at the carpet.

“can i?”

“yes,” you nodded.

rafe sat up and met your eyes, moving closer until his thigh was touching yours. you shifted your upper half closer to him, feeling a wave of shivers run through you the second his hand touched your cheek. you instinctively pressed your legs tighter together as your heartbeat picked up and rafe lowered over you, licking his lips once more. they were soft and firm, just as they needed to be. he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing just beside your mouth as you kissed.

seconds later, you brought your own hands to his face. you were eager to touch him, to feel the solidness of him against you. it was mostly a reassurance that this was in fact happening and that you weren’t dreaming. you pushed a hand into his hair just behind his ear and mirrored the last few pecks he was leaving you before he fully pulled away. you felt a pinch of disappointment, the small taste for him now growing bigger. you had to stop your hands from pulling him back.

he pulled away only a little and you opened your eyes to see him still so close and looking over your face. your breaths mingled together.

“what?” you huffed, letting your head fall back for a second in slight irritation. you just wanted to kiss him again. you let your hand slide down from his hair, resting near his shoulder. you wanted to squeeze the muscle under your hand.

“nothing.” he said again, eyes flickering down to your lips once more. he smiled, holding himself up on the back of the couch. his thumb brushed the same spot on your cheek. “don’t tell anyone, but i’ve been imagining this since you showed up tonight.”

you returned your hand to his hair, slightly scratching with a smile. “i knew you spilled your drink on purpose.”

rafe grinned widely and moved back into you. this kiss was deeper, your lips opening for him when you felt his tongue. his hand left your cheek and appeared on your hip, ever so slightly pushing your shirt up so he could touch your skin at your waist. you smiled against him as you felt his hand slowly creep up the shirt. you were reminded again that it was his and you pulled him closer by the back of the neck, hearing a soft moan leave his lips. your thighs squeezed, your excitement starting to rise.

“you just gave it to me and now you want to take it off?” you teased as rafe’s hand covered one of your breasts, the cool air of the room reaching your skin. rafe smiled and kissed you again.

his hand disappeared, apparently changing his mind, and reappeared on your thigh. you breathed in sharply at the warmth coming from his palm, resting just above your knee. your brain started to spaz for a moment and you imagined a bunch of smaller yous, running in circles like their heads were cut off.

rafe’s hand stayed steady as you uncrossed your legs, a silent invitation. he moved to kiss the corner of your mouth. “is this okay?”

the fact that he was pulling away multiple times to check in on you had to be evidence enough of why lina and melly liked him so much. you hadn’t met many guys that were so in tune with consent or caring about what you wanted. it turned you on seeing it coming from him.

“yes.” you nodded as you touched his forearm, not wanting to seem too eager.

you anticipated his hand moving and when it did, you held back the moan. you were much too eager for teasing and he was showing no signs of not giving you want you wanted. as he got closer to you, you placed your hand over his. he pulled you back for a kiss and you decided to focus on that for a moment to lessen your nerves.

his touch was soft once he met your underwear. his fingers pressed over you and you shivered from how wet you had become because of him. he hummed into your mouth, only adding to the pooling between your legs. his hand reached back and pushed your skirt further up so he could get to you more easily.

you let out a satisfied sigh against his lips as he ran a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. your underwear had been pushed to the side, out of the way, finally feeling his touch.

“are you this wet for me?” he asked. you nodded against his forehead and pulled him back, letting out a moan as he brushed over your clit. it was only for a second, but you were about ready to burst.

you opened your legs wider for rafe, his fingers moving over you and exploring the new area. you gripped his hand to silently ask him for more along with an impatient moan. you wanted his fingers so badly in places you weren’t ready to admit yet. he wanted the opposite.

“talk to me.” he said, nudging the side of your face with his nose, planting a kiss to your jaw. you opened your eyes that had fallen shut, your breath getting heavier. your chest felt like it was going to cave in.

“please,” you said, adjusting your hips. “please, touch me.”

“i am.” he pulled away, a menacing smirk on his face just to gauge your reaction.

you huffed out and pulled his hand closer. “you know what i mean, rafe.”

“i like when you say my name.” he pressed a kiss to your lips sweetly.

“i might like when you touch me, so get on with it already.”

rafe laughed huskily, his breath blowing over your face. “you want my fingers?”

you wanted to roll your eyes at how badly he wanted you to beg, but you wanted his fingers more. “yes, please. i want your fingers. give me something.”

you let go of his hand as he finally pushed a finger into you. you adjusted around him for a moment and felt the need to close your legs to keep him there. he pulled your lips back to his, his tongue quick to lick into you. you held his face again as his finger started to move inside of you.

“you want another, pretty girl?” he asked after a few moments passed. you nodded again, breathing hoarsely, too intoxicated in him to speak. a second finger pushed into you then, stretching you ever so slightly. you sighed, letting your head fall back to the couch.

“you’re so wet.” he said as he moved his fingers, delighting in the sounds he was making with you in the palm of his hand. “you’re taking my fingers so well, y/n. do they feel good?”

you moaned as he said your name for the first time. it was something you didn’t think you’d like so much, but with the current situation, it was wonderful.

rafe’s lips appeared on your neck. you held the back of his head as he pressed a few kisses then closed his lips over a spot closer to your collarbone. if your breath had been short then, it was even shorter now as he worked to leave a mark on you. with all the attention you were getting, it only brought you closer to your release, and you started to move your hips. he freed your skin, startled at your movements, then amazed as he watched you chase his fingers. the spot he left throbbed now, all your blood rushing to two places at once.

“are you going to come?” he asked as you heard the start of song you had been replaying for the past few weeks. it was muffled and you could barely hear the words, but you knew it by heart.

“yes, fuck.” you looked up at him, taking in the sight. he was breathing over you, his eyes never straying too far from yours as your mouth opened in pleasure. “rafe, make me come.”

you squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed you hard, breathing deeply into your mouth. he reached his thumb to your clit and began to draw circles at a normal pace with his fingers. your stomach started to twist, the familiar feeling forming fast as he picked up the pace. he could tell you were close by the sheer dig of your fingertips on the back of his neck. it only edged him on more to bring you to your climax.

“come on my fingers.” he said, eyes half closed as he looked at you, lips brushing over yours as he spoke. you whimpered and felt your hips twitch before stilling completely, trapping rafe’s hand between your legs, as you came undone. his thumb continued to move to help you through it. your jaw went slack, eyes rolling under your eyelids, as you moaned loudly. you felt an overwhelming sense of content, the adrenaline rush coming and going quickly.

your blood pumped in your ears and it took you a few moments to register rafe giving you subtle kisses all over the underside of your jaw. you breathed in shakily and let your head fall back on the couch, your knees separating. rafe took his hand away and you winced as he did. you already missed the contact.

the moment was completely ruined as his name was called up the stairs. rafe’s lips disappeared from you as he looked toward the door. you didn’t know what came over you as you pulled your skirt down over your thighs, the footsteps heavy outside his door before a couple of his friends burst in.

“guys, come on. get the fuck out!” he shouted in annoyance, sitting up completely, his leg still touching yours.

“woah, sorry.” they said as they took in your presence. you shifted and knew that they could probably tell what you and rafe had been doing. they evidently didn’t care as they went into a whole spiel of something that had taken place downstairs. rafe tried to stop them and their alcohol-induced exuberance.

he looked at you over his shoulder, touching you lightly on the knee. “i'm sorry.” he said, his friends not hearing as they talked to one another. “i'll see you downstairs?”

part of you felt completely stupid when he said it, like everything that had happened moments ago was just an imagination. you felt your shoulders slump, but you nodded and got up anyways. the door was quick to close behind you and you were left in the dark landing, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. you smoothed your hair, took a deep breath, and fixed your underwear and skirt again.

your eyes adjusted gradually as you went down the stairs back into the swing of things. you swallowed, your mouth still dry post-climax. you went into the kitchen and filled up a cup with water, downing it slowly and stepping out of the way of some people. you couldn’t help but feel drained as you watched the people around you, laughing, dancing, and drinking. you had just spent the last 30 minutes in rafe cameron’s room and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“y/n!” you looked up at melly coming toward you, her makeup slightly smudged, but that didn’t change how great she looked. “there you are!”

you gave her an assured smile and finished the water in your cup. “hey.” you tried not to let anything show.

“lina and i are ready to go if you want to come with. i think we’re going to get some food somewhere in town. i was thinking curly fries or a veggie burger. lina is dying for— wait, where did you go? we looked everywhere.” her expression suddenly changed to one of concern as she stepped closer to you.

“i— uh, well clearly not everywhere.” you said shamelessly, feeling your neck grow warm.

melly opened her mouth to say something then stopped. “oh my god, why are you so flushed? what happened to your sweater?” she looked at the shirt, her eyes catching on something near your collarbone. her eyes went wide as you tried to hide the mark. “oh my god!”

monday, 4 p.m.

“i was thinking that it could go more like this,” your friend said as she pressed a few buttons on her laptop. a new beat started from the computer, the screen following along with the track. you bobbed your head along with the beat.

the campus coffeeshop was somewhere you liked to go, mostly to meet your friends, but you also enjoyed the coffee. sometimes before class you’d make it just in time to get an extra scone before they were all gone. it was a cozy place too, filled with older antiques and an endless display of guitars on every wall. sometimes they’d have an open mic for students, letting anyone with any sort of musical or comical talent perform. most of the acts were later in the week though so no one had to worry about coursework.

after your classes today, you had met up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. she was eager to show you what she had been working on for her musical composition classes and you had expressed that you were willing to listen.

the past weekend had been spent mulling over a certain party and a certain someone you couldn’t seem to forget. not that you tried to, to be fair. you’d hadn’t seen him since, which was nothing new given the amount of times you had encountered the boy since that day on campus or seen him for the first time in the library. you didn’t find things weird, but things were left upspoken and it had been bothering you. you knew that melly or lina could’ve easily gotten his number for you, had you asked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, nor did you know what you would say. all you could do was hope that he was doing well and maybe, perhaps, thinking of you too.

it was inevitable to escape having to talk about what happened in rafe’s room with melly and lina. you weren’t willing to share all of the details right down to what he smelled like, but you didn’t deny that nothing occurred. they seemed satisfied when you recounted having to change your sweater and rafe being kind enough to offer you one of his shirts.

speaking of the shirt, you had gone to your dorm that night and taken it off, seeing that “cameron” was written on the back, along with a large number. no doubt it was for lacrosse. the prospect of it made you shiver before folding it up to leave on your desk. you hadn’t touched it since.

“christ, i've got a meeting with my advisor soon.” your friend said, quickly exiting the program on her screen and closing her computer. “thank you again so much for listening. i can’t express how relieving it is to have someone do this.”

you waved her off with a sweet smile and packed up your own things. “i'm always around if you need a first-time listener.”

both of you stood and pushed the metal chairs in. you followed her to the exit, listening to her as she explained the reasoning for her upcoming meeting. both doors opened, the one from her pushing and the other from rafe coming in. you looked up as he met your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how good it was to see him.

“hey,” he smiled at you as all three of you paused.

before you could say anything, the words sticking to your tongue, you looked back to your friend. she was looking between the both of you, unsure of what was going on. you swallowed and acknowledged her. “i’ll see you later?”

a small smile came onto her face as she looked at rafe then back to you and nodded. the door closed softly behind her. you looked back at rafe as you felt his hand ghosting over your forearm.

“hi,” you said finally.

“it’s good to see you. come up with me?” he gestured to the register and you nodded, letting him take your hand. you didn’t think too much of it as you stood alongside him as he ordered. when the cashier asked if there would be anything else, rafe looked at you expectantly. you blanked for a second, remembering that you didn’t get a drink earlier when you first arrived. you had immediately gone for a sandwich, satisfied that that would be your dinner.

rafe pulled out his wallet and paid for the two drinks. he then led you toward the pick-up counter and faced you with a soft smile. “how have you been?”

“okay,” you breathed in deeply. you weren’t exactly sure how to answer. were you supposed to tell him how freaked out you had been? no, you decided, best not to. “the weekend was busy.”

“mine too. i've got practice tonight so i thought i’d stop by for some energy. i’m glad i ran into you.”

you refrained from asking him if he was serious. you could see on his face that he was with the way he looked at you. “rafe—”

before you could say much of anything else, rafe’s hands appeared on your cheeks and his lips pressed to yours. you kissed him back just as gently even though you wanted to do more now that you felt him again. he pulled away as his order was called, turning to thank the barista as he took the two cups.

“come to my place to study? after practice, i mean.” he said as he held your cup out to you. you looked at it then back up at his questioning eyes, a sliver of hope in them. you pushed down the question at the tip of your tongue and accepted the coffee.

“we’re just studying?”

rafe beamed and nodded. “i have a huge test tomorrow that i can’t fail, so yes.”

7 p.m.

before parting ways with rafe earlier he had finally taken your phone and put his number in it, but not before taking an odd photo of himself. it made you laugh watching it happen though. he promised that he would be done with practice around now and you left your dorm a little earlier than you planned to. it was out of pure thrill really.

knocking on the front door, you waited patiently for it to be answered. you shifted the books in your arms as you heard soft footsteps behind the door. rafe opened it, standing in loose-fitting clothes with damp hair. he smiled instantly and welcomed you in.

it was a drastic difference compared to the party. the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. rafe turned to you from the door.

“how many books did you bring?” he asked seriously, glancing at them against your chest.

“just two,” you said defensively only until you saw the grin. you rolled your eyes and turned away from him to kick your shoes off.

he was chuckling to himself as he went into the kitchen and pulled out snacks to have. “do you want anything to drink?”

“water would be great.”

“smart choice. less sticky.” he said, his back to you, but you could hear the satisfied tone of his voice at his remark.

once he gathered drinks and a plate of snacks, he led you upstairs. it was brighter this time with his door already open and lights already on. you glanced at the other closed one down the short hall, finding the sliver underneath completely dark. maybe topper wasn’t home.

“how was practice?” you asked, setting your things down. he placed the plate on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor. you brushed your hair away from your face and sat down beside him.

“good. just ran some drills, normal practice stuff.” he shrugged, munching on a chip.

“is topper not home?” you set your books on the table and opened them up to where you had marked. rafe moved to grab his things from his bag sitting on the couch. he copied your actions and pulled out a pencil and a notebook.

“no, he went out with some of the guys for food.” he said easily, opening to a blank page. you watched curiously as he wrote down the topic he was studying for.

both of you fell into a silence as you started to read from your books. you were worried about it being a strange silence, knowing what happened the last time you were in this room. it was fairly difficult to push it out of your mind and to focus when rafe was right next to you, so close, along with the thoughts and memory of his touch. you pushed everything out of your head and concentrated back on the page you were reading from.

it wasn’t long when rafe’s hand appeared on your bent leg. they were crossed under you and he had placed his hand like it belonged over the side of your knee. you looked at him in your peripheral but didn’t see him look up once to acknowledge that he had in fact done that. instead you let it happen, ignoring the way it warmed up your skin. you swallowed in anticipation of him interrupting your studying session to turn it into a quick make out session, but the longer the minutes passed the longer his hand stayed where it was. after a while, you forgot about it.

if you had taken one look at rafe, with no prior knowledge of him or of the way his hands felt on you, you would have never guessed that he becomes so engrossed in studying. for the whole two hours that you both spent together with your noses in textbooks, he hadn’t once started a conversation. he kept at reading and writing, jotting things down in his notebook, while you held your head above your own book and soaked up every last word. it was comforting knowing that. the plate had even emptied, mostly due to rafe’s insatiable appetite after practice. you weren’t that hungry from your sandwich earlier.

“okay, that’s it.” rafe said abruptly, causing you to look up as his hand left your knee. “my eyes are going to bleed if i read anymore.”

you laughed lightly and looked back at your book. “are you sure you studied enough?”

“i wrote a whole ten pages worth of notes.” he flipped through them, the pages brushing together.

you hummed, still engrossed in your text. rafe shuffled next to you, dropping his notebook over the open pages along with his pencil. he let out a long sigh which turned into a yawn.

“are you done?” he asked innocently, his head appearing on your shoulder.

you glanced at him and shrugged him off with a smile. “maybe.”

“come on,” he groaned and reached for your textbook. you automatically smacked his hand away. he laughed and quickly flipped it closed and took ahold of your chin to face him.

“that was a dick move.” you said, punching him softly on the arm.

“pay attention to me.” he whined, letting go of your chin only to touch your cheek.

you eyed him as he came closer, finally kissing you when you didn’t punch him again or push him away. you kissed him back as best you could with the speculation seeping into your brain then. rafe seemed to be able to tell.

“what is it?” he asked when he pulled away, running his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. it was reassuring almost.

you looked at him, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. you also thought about how badly it could go given the answer you were dreading. “i'm just— it’s nothing.” you shook your head quickly and leaned in to distract him with another kiss.

he reciprocated for only a moment. “what is it? you can tell me.”

“i guess i'm just wondering what we’re doing.” you rolled your shoulder as if you had a knot, pulling away from rafe in case he didn’t want to touch you. his hand fell from your face and he leaned his side against the couch.

“what do you want to do?”

you gave him a serious glare. “don’t make this a game, rafe. i'm just…wondering what your intentions are.”

rafe adjusted his posture and sat up straighter, all his attention on you. his eyebrows creased and you bit the inside of your lip self-consciously, knowing this wasn’t going to go how you wanted it.

“well, i'm enjoying spending time with you.”

“studying?” you asked with a monotone.

rafe glanced away from you as if he were wondering if he said the wrong thing. “yeah. is that so hard to believe?”

you wanted to huff again, but you held the breath in. your shoulders started to tense as you became frustrated. not because of him, mostly because of yourself for not being able to communicate. you felt stupid for asking it, but you did. “do you like kissing me?”

“of course i do.”

“is that all you want to do?” you finally asked, quickly looking away from him. you reached toward your textbook, fiddling with the pages.

“no,” rafe said. “i want to get to know you.”

it was hard for you not to roll your eyes. rafe noticed and a second later his hand touched your shoulder, gently shaking it.

“i'm serious. hey, look at me.” he pleaded, and you did. “i want to get to know you, but only if you’ll let me. i know the other night was weird and i don’t know— spontaneous, but i enjoyed it and i enjoy being around you. you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it.”

“i’ve probably been thinking about it more than you.” you chided in a quiet voice, trying to tease him. you were pleased by the answer he gave you and you felt a little silly for being so stubborn at first.

rafe smiled slightly, eyes soft. “let’s just keep doing what we’re doing and see where it goes, okay?”

you took a deep breath in, pushing your book away and nodding. “okay.”

rafe’s hand rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before he pulled you in for an awkwardly placed hug. the side of your body fell into his chest, but he hugged you, nonetheless, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you turned into him and smiled widely, your cheeks strained to hold it, and hugged him around the shoulders.

all the time spent worrying about whether he reciprocated your feelings or thoughts were so obviously wasted as you spent the rest of the night together. you took it slow, never straying from innocent kisses as you curled up together to watch a movie. you couldn’t help grinning multiple times throughout the night, knowing that things wouldn’t be difficult like you thought. it was easy when you expressed yourself and talked things over, even mentioning small things made a difference. maybe this would turn out to be another smart decision. you had a feeling there were plenty of possibilities with rafe cameron, but only time would tell.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #college!rafe cameron x reader #college!rafe cameron #college!rafe #rafe cameron au #outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #college au #writing dirty talk kinda makes me cringe because im so bad at it but i think i did okay ???#rafe cameron x fem!reader

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