#even my mutuals be pretty too with words n just hanging around like- I fucking see you bro

[kitsunegdx]

Pretty people

Thinking bout… pretty people. Just pretty, you know?

Pretty people I’ve dated and their scars and little quirks.

Pretty people I’m friends with who got smiles and voices that brighten my day.

Pretty people who got big friends groups to form a functional human being and look out for each other.

Pretty people who live in my head rent free metaphorically and literally.

I am also thinking of pretty people who just know how to appreciate small things in life to help make the world a lil happier for themselves. I don’t think they know that makes them extra pretty.

Pretty people who got eyes and don’t have eyes. Any color even it brings them all together

Pretty people who’s minds are perceiving the horrors while they act like it’s normal. Those pretty people are more common than you think.

Pretty people who got little features that culminate to make them whole be it stuff they can control like how they style their hair, to stuff they can’t, like having an extra finger.

Pretty people who aren’t people at all. Those are in my head too.

Pretty people can come in many different forms be it size, shape, voices, from a stranger on a subway to even text on a screen.

Pretty people are all around us, it’s a matter of taking in the small stuff that makes them whole.

Why are people so pretty?

Why are you so pretty?

#uh oh kit’s in love with all her friends at once again #I’m just- *sigh* it’s hard thinking about the homies and wondering if they appreciate themselves the way I see them #I have vagued a few but… man why are people so pretty? #I want to just hold them and wonder about it… #might pin this #so all my friends and mutuals can see #to ramble a bit I have friends with burn scars on their body that I find pretty- ex lovers now friends who feel not enough #in the bodies they have but it’s like- bro I just think you are so pretty I want to accent that natural beauty you have #man I wanna help my friends feel pretty in their body but alas I’m a college student #don’t tell one of them but I’m hoping that when I get my career that I can put money to the side to help her get the presentation of gender #that she wants like- I just wanna help them so much bro to see that I am out here with a heart full of love and pockets I’m working on fill- #ing to help them figure out how pretty they are #*sigh* this probably doesn’t make sense but I just think they are so pretty like- all of them #even my mutuals be pretty too with words n just hanging around like- I fucking see you bro #i’m in my feels #I’m feelin this bro #I want to like- so badly hold and hug them all like- even if you don’t like hugs I will stand to the side and give you the most approving #thumbs up I can because I fuckin love them bro they are my homies they have been with me through #thicc and thin and thick again like- AAAA #I just really love them they are my besties and like I wanna sob maybe cry a little over how much I love the #them they are just so much good people and I care for them a lot #this post doesn’t make a lot of sense but they are so good #Also pretty is the only word I can use to describe people and it means so much when I use it #it isn’t just that they are pretty they bring me joy beyond belief and I wanna cry

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around. 

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university. 

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books. 

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel. 

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room. 

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?” 

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.” 

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all. 

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them. 

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up. 

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment. 

~

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match. 

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet. 

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!” 

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face. 

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you. 

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again. 

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

~

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party. 

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. 

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it. 

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs. 

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed. 

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor. 

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his. 

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view. 

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does. 

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

~

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner. 

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch. 

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pyjamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pyjamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.” 

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.” 

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade. 

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit. 

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?” 

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room. 

~

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now. 

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing. 

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur. 

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?” 

“Just noticed,” he shrugs. 

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry. 

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…” 

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?” 

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.” 

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you. 

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest. 

“Miguel?” 

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?” 

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing. 

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you. 

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do. 

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble. 

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off. 

“Let’s get some air, huh?” 

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while. 

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party. 

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?”

He chuckles and nods. 

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle. 

“Wasn’t that many…” 

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names. 

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there. 

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified. 

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.” 

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side. 

~

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after. 

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag. 

“Fuck.” 

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium. 

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!” 

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief. 

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a  bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright. 

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him. 

“You’re sick?” he asks. 

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering. 

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room. 

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him. 

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place. 

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat. 

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field. 

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.” 

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling. 

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…” 

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend. 

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.” 

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours. 

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated. 

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s. 

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.” 

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly. 

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile. 

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. 

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

[sturniolowhore]

i have an idea for a valetines day oneshot. could you do like the girl was in a toxic relationship before chris and she doesnt expect anything from chris because of the past but then he surprises her and like shows her how good it can be? like a lot of fluff and cuteness please. i hope this makes sense ly

☁️ SO THIS IS LOVE

summary ⎯ the request🤭

warnings ⎯ chris x fem!oc, fluff, mentions of previous relationships, cursing, very rushed, short and not proofread

A/N ⎯ happy valentines day lovers! this is the first time in my nineteen years of existing that i actually have a valentine and it feels so surreal?? quickly whipped this up because the request only came today so i apologise for the length (also ily too anonymous)

i hope you enjoy <3

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

delilah swiped to the next tik tok, sick of seeing every single one about valentines. she would be lying if she said she was surprised to see yet another video of a couple.

don't get her wrong, it wasn't as though she was jealous, she just didn't particularly understand the hype like everyone else did. for years, she had watched others on the day, not comprehending why the day was so special. even when she actually had a boyfriend the previous year, he never so much as uttered the words happy valentines to her. it was something she had grown accustomed to, the idea of spending the day like any other.

so even this year, when chris and her had decided he would pick her up to go his place, not once did she question it. she merely believed it was another regular day of her hanging out with her boyfriend. she wasn't expecting anything else as she awaited his arrival, sitting atop the bottom step with her shoes on so she could leave quickly.

chris 💖💖💖

i'm outside ma

del ❤️❤️

coming out in a sec

and that was exactly what she did, getting up from the steps and making the short walk to her front door before opening it and stepping outside. she saw his car parked nearby and made the small trek to it. she smiled to herself when he leaned over and opened the door from the inside, seeing as his car was still on. she stepped into the vehicle and gave him a soft smile.

he returned it easily, leaning a little once more to press a quick but sweet kiss to her more than welcoming lips. she smiled against his lips as they pulled apart and his eyes raked over her outfit and face.

"you look so fucking beautiful," he told her as he began to pull out of his spot and begin driving to his house.

"thank you, can't say the same for you," she teased with a laugh and he playfully rolled his eyes at her, the dynamic already feeling the way it always did; something the two of them adored more than anything.

"how has your day been?" he questioned, glancing at the rear view mirror briefly to check his surroundings before resting his hand on her thigh.

she slightly shuddered at the touch. he still made her feel goose bumps even after months and months of being together. the effect he had on her never dissipated and she would be embarrassed if not for the fact that she knew it was a mutual thing.

"pretty boring, i've just been waiting around for you to come and get me. i missed you," she stated even though they had literally seen each other a couple days ago.

"i missed you too, i always miss you," he grinned at her before he took a different turn to the usual route they took.

"i think you missed that turn love," she pointed out and he fought back his smile before turning to quickly face her with a shrug.

"it's basically the same thing," he lied but she furrowed her brows as she knew they were getting further and further away from his house.

"are you feeling⎯ " she started but she was cut off by his questioning words.

"close your eyes baby," he instructed and she looked towards him in confusion, wondering if she heard his words correctly.

"what?" she met his eyes and he grinned at her, only increasing her curiosity by the second.

"close them, you trust me right?" he pointed and she nodded rapidly, doing as he said and closing her eyes as she felt the car drive a little more before he parked somewhere.

she heard him step out of the car and move to her side, opening the door and grabbing her hand to help her out of the car. she kept her eyes shut per his commands and grasped his hand tightly, not knowing what to expect in the slightest.

"what are we doing?" she pondered aloud, walking in line with him and smiling when she felt his hands around her waist, guiding her to wherever they were headed.

"sh patience mama, we're almost there," he grinned, his hands rubbing soft circles against her skin and making her sigh contentedly.

then he paused in his tracks and turned to face her. if she felt the next place she was walking, she would instantly recognise where they were and he certainly didn't want that. he thought for a small moment before an idea popped into his head.

"why are we stopping?" her query was answered when he picked her up, her legs instantly wrapping around him with a slight yelp escaping her lips at the suddenness.

"you better be keeping those eyes closed," he warned her with a laugh and she couldn't help but laugh to despite not knowing what exactly was happening.

she would say they⎯ well he⎯ walked for around another minute before he at last stopped and placed her onto the ground softly, swivelling her body around so she was facing whatever he wanted her to.

she smiled as she felt the sand beneath her shoes; she loved the beach and chris knew that. it was a nice surprise but she had no idea what else was about to happen. he pulled her body so her back was pressed to his front and hooked his head over her shoulder.

"you can open your eyes now," he sounded so excited and she instantly allowed her eyes to fly open, a small gasp being released as her eyes surveyed the sight in front of her.

in front of them was a picnic blanket with all of her favourite things placed atop it from jam tarts to pasties to fruit and everything in between. there was a small hamper with a bunch of makeup and perfume as well as skin care products she always rambled on about but didn't think chris remembered. there was a small heart shaped cake in the centre that she couldn't quite make out the words written on but she would be lying if she said she didn't have a small inkling. the plates and glasses were pink and he had a few rose petals sprinkled all over the place.

she turned to him with the largest smile he had ever seen, "chris... oh my god. you're a fucking angel. i love you so much, this is so sweet."

he was about to tell her he loved her just as much, if not more, but her lips quickly found his in a passionate kiss. he slightly stumbled back at the force but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around her waist and relishing in the way her hands found his neck and hair. she pulled away with a flushed look and a smile like none he had ever seen before.

"happy valentine's day baby," he breathed out, pressing another kiss to her lips and internally feeling relief that she actually liked his efforts.

"happy valentine's day," it was the first time in her life she had heard those words spoken to her and the first time she had said them to anyone.

she understood where people were coming from now. the magical sensation of being surprised and love being showed through the effort their partner put it. she adored chris more than anything but she never would have anticipated something like this. she didn't even think it was possible for something like this to happen.

she pulled him into the tightest embrace, speaking into his chest, "i love you so so much, no one has ever done anything like this for me before."

"no one? didn't you have a boyfriend last year?" he furrowed his brows in confusion; surely her ex had spoiled her the way she so desperately deserved.

"i mean yeah but we never celebrated, i never got the hype," she pulled away from him with a shrug and he looked appalled.

"you mean the idiot never did anything to show you how special you are?" he pondered aloud, ensuring he was understanding her words correctly.

she blushed at his words and shook her head, making him drop his jaw open in utter shock.

"what a fucking ass," chris rolled his eyes and she snickered at his words, not realising why he was making it such a big thing but at the same time noticing just how happy she was over chris actually doing something for her.

"now i feel bad... i just assumed you wouldn't want to celebrate either and i never even got you anything but you did all⎯" he stopped her rambling with a kiss, silencing her and making sure he poured every last emotion into the connection.

"stop talking ma, i don't expect shit in return," he told her and she beamed at him, feeling more loved than ever and wanting to remain in this moment for an eternity and more.

"come on, let's eat this shit, i'm hungry," he pulled her to sit beside him on one of the cushions but eventually he found herself straddling his lap, the most comfortable place if you asked her.

"so pretty," he mumbled against her neck and she hummed happily.

"you're so perfect," she returned, brushing her fingers through his hair and loving the way he leaned into her touch lightly.

he pulled away to look into her eyes, "i love you so much."

she pecked his cheek and when she pulled away, she spoke again, "i love you so so much."

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

TAGS: @mattslolita @mattsleftnipple03 @sturniolololover @hearts4chris @sturniofilmd @luvsturns @that-general-simp

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #fem oc #fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fluff #sturniolowhore #valentines day #request #anonymous #the sturniolos #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #love #short

[dakotalun]

The Cabin | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: The older kids decide to take the weekend off and head down to Steve's parent's cabin.

warnings: none for this chapter, just some mutual pining

word count: 2k

a/n: Been thinking of this idea for years now and finally decided to put it down on paper, or screen ig.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie’s POV

Steve has been planning this trip for weeks. I mean, I like the guy and all but he can go a little overboard with things. He has been trying to get us all to come down to his family’s lake house for what feels like forever. Just the older kids, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Y/N and I. He says it’ll be a weekend of games, drinking and fun. Which translated to normal language means, raiding his parents liquor cabinet, smoking some blunts and playing kiddie games like truth or dare, and never have I ever. Not that I mind, I’m just happy to be invited, even if I do have to do a shit ton of manual labor beforehand.

“Come on Eddie, it’s only gonna take a few hours,” Steve pleads with me over the phone.

“Dude exactly, a few hours. Do you know what I could be doing in those ‘few hours’?” I’m walking around the trailer trying to not explode my head off as Steve whines at me. 

“I don’t know, you’d probably get high and sleep, or some shit. Just come on! I really need your van.”

“Nope, not happening,” I plop down on the couch and open my tin lunchobox, ready to roll a joint, “I mean why do you need my van anyways, isn’t your car fine?”

Steve sighs over the phone, “Yes but it’s too small. I need help moving some stuff from my family’s storage locker to the lake house. You know that place you’ll be staying in for the next week!”

I finally get done rolling my joint and scour my tin for a lighter, if I’m gonna help Harrington with this I’ll be needing it, “Ugh fine, just let me get some shit first. I’ll be at yours in 20.”

“Fucking- thank you!” Before I can even say a snarky remark he hangs up.

I groan and throw my head back. I am so gonna regret this later.

---

A few days later I’m with Steve at his house, getting the stuff for the trip finalized. We planned that since my van is bigger than Steve’s tiny ass BMW, I’d be taking all the bags and shit with one passenger and he’d take the other 3 and all the food.

“So I’ll take Nancy, Robin and Y/n. You take Jonathan,” Steve says throwing a bag of chips into a bag.

“Oh hell no. Why do you get all the girls?” “Um maybe because then they’d have to deal with you for 2 hours,” I pick up a pack of marshmallows and throw them at him, “Hey! Fine, take Y/n I don’t care just stop throwing my shit.”

“Thank you,” I walk over to him and sling an arm over his shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard was it big boy?” He pushes me off and I stumble back as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it, you finish packing the food.” I straighten my back and put my hand to my forehead like a soldier, “Aye aye Captain!” and solute him as he leaves the kitchen.

I hear him open the front door and the voices of Nancy and Robin. The three of them come back into the kitchen laughing at something Robin had said.

“Sup ladies.”

“Hey Eddie,” They say in unison before turning their attention back to Steve. Before I met them I would’ve thought that they didn’t like me or that they only pretended to be my friend out of pity, now that I know  them, I know that that’s not the case, they simply wanted to finish their conversation with Steve first.

“Hey hey!” The loud bang of the front door wakes me out of my daydream as Jonathan waltz’s into the room. Nancy gives him a quick kiss while he wraps his hand around her waist. 

“So we all reday to go? I can’t wait to go skinny dipping,” He gives Nancy a smirk and wink before he bursts out loud at his own stupidity.

“Yeah pretty much. I just gotta get y’all’s shit into my van and pick Y/n up and we’ll be good.”

“Great. I’ll help load the rest of the stuff into the cars,” Steve heads out of the house with Robin and Nancy’s bags, “Hey Nance and Rob could you put those last few food bags in my trunk please?” Steve yells halfway out of the door.

They both agree in unison before grabbing the bags and heading outside. I sit there for a minute just thinking about what this weekend might intell, firstly I have to spend 4 hours in my van with the girl I have a crush on and secondly, I have a whole week of being with her, and my other friends but this is the longest we’ve hangout together and it’s not like I can just hop in my van and drive away when I do something stupid. I shake my head and join my friends outside, shutting the front door on my way out.

---

I pull up to Y/n’s house not even 5 minutes after calling her that I’m on the way. I see her parent’s cars in the driveway and pull up behind them. I jump out my van and rush to her door, maybe a little too eager to see her. I knock 3 times before the door is swinging open and I’m greeted with the big, bright smile that I like so much.

“Hey Eds! You got here quick, let me just grab my bags real quick, stay there,” She turns and her scent wafts in my face a little, she smells like vanilla and flowers. I wonder what she uses, vanilla shampoo and floral perfume? Maybe it’s in both, vanilla and flowers in body wash, shampoo, and perfume?! God what I would give to find out.

***

Y/N’s POV

I leave the door open as I run into the living room to grab my bags. I try my best to conceal the blush rushing to my cheeks upon seeing Eddie. I've never seen him in a muscle tee before, and if I’m being honest he looks hot as hell.

I quickly say goodbye to my parents and head back to the foyer, I don’t wanna waste another second here. I close the front door behind me and I feel a hand on my duffel bag as I turn back towards Eddie.

“I’m just gonna put these with the others in the back, go ahead and get comfy in the car,” He walks off towards the van, unlocking the doors for me to hop in.

“Actually,” I grab my small backpack from him, “I’m gonna keep this one with me.”

“Alright,” He walks off towards the back of his van.

Once I get in the car I set my bag down at my feet, opening it to get out my blanket and book. Eddie rounds the corner of the car and hops in along side me, buckling his seatbelt before starting the engine.

“Did you really bring a blanket?” He give you a small smile at the thought that I’d be prepared with a blanket for this ride.

“Yes I did. It was my grandpa’s so I bring it with me on trips. Don’t judge me.” I scowl at him but then flash him a little smile back.

Eddie’s heart warms at the thought of me being so close to my grandparents that I keep their things even after they are gone, “Hey no judgement here,” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “if I had stuff from my grandparents I’m sure I’d keep it too.”

I laugh a little and Eddie pulls out of my driveway beginning the long journey to Steve’s lake house.

---

Roughly half an hour into the drive I start to get a little bored and hungry so I riffle around in my bag to find the cheez-its and book I packed. Upon finding them you pull your feet up on the chair and begin reading and eating your snacks. 

You’ve always loved road trips, especially in the summer, the way you can just let the windows down the warm air blowing in your hair cooling you down while also keeping you at a nice temperature. This was no different, other than it was with Eddie, not your parents. It felt good to be with Eddie listening to his music as it plays over the speakers and hearing his rings knock against the steering wheel as he taps along to the beat of the song.

You feel relaxed, and happy. A feeling you haven’t really felt much recently. School had become really stressful with all the college applications and decisions to be made. And then getting ready for all the AP exams you’d be taking in late April, then the actual finals for your classes, it was all just so stressful. So when Steve and Robin approached you about spending spring break away from the gloomy town of Hawkins, who were you to deny them.

You’re reading your book and can’t focus well because you feel eyes on you. You look up from your book and over at Eddie, who is just glancing back from the road to you with a questioning look on his face.

“What?” You ask turning your body towards him a little.

“Nothing,” He looks away, focusing solely on the road again.

“You wouldn’t be staring if it was nothing. So what is it?”

“I just dont get how you can read in a moving car? Like doesn’t it make you nauseous?”

“Uh no I guess not. I didn’t realize that this was a weird thing to do? Can you not read in a car?” You’re genuinely asking, wondering if you’re weird or not for being able to do this.

“Hell no, I get sick just being in the passengers seat,” He laughs a little at the weird way his body works, “I don’t know I guess it something about focusing on the road helps calm me,” He looks over at you for a second, taking in your position. Feet tucked under you, blanket thrown over your legs hanging low, book resting face down on your knee and cheez-its between your arm and the door. He has to admit you look cute like this, “I’ve just never met anyone who can read in a car. It’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You smile at each other before Eddie resumes his focus on the road and you on your book.

Before you know it you’re passed out in the seat while your book dangles off the endle of the seat. Eddie notices that he needs more gas so as soon as he can he gets off the highway and heads to a station to fill up. While getting gas he notices how peaceful you look sleeping in his van, sure you may be laying a weird position but you look calm. Eddie gets back in the van but before pulling out of the gas station he takes your book, places in your bookmark and sets in down near your bag. He knows how much you’d hate if anything happened to it while you slept.

3 and a half long hours later you guys finally make it to the lake house, but you can’t see Steve’s car there. Eddie hops out of the van to give him a call quickly.

“Hey,” Eddie says through the speaker.

“Hey- No we are not stopping again! Get it together we aren’t that fucking far! Hey dude sorry I know we’re late but someone keeps insisting on us stopping for bathroom and snack breaks,” Eddie can hear the disdain in his buddy’s voice knowing exactly who the someone is.

“It’s no problem dude, just remind me what the code to get in is again, we can start getting everything set up while you get here.”

“Thanks dude. The code is 3957, just make sure to turn on the water and power too.”

“Sure thing, see you soon.”

“Bye- Rob I told yo-” And then the line goes dead. Eddie laughs a little to himself before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading to your side of the car.

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Awaken

changbin x felix

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of but please feel free to correct me if i missed anything!

Content warnings: names (baby, good boy, angel, sweetheart, pretty boy, tiny baby), a little biting, mirrors, slight hair pulling, size kink (kinda?), oral, begging, cum sharing, praise, very brief mutual masturbation, very brief finger fucking, verbal teasing, hand holding, anal, a hint of a breeding kink, belly bulge, desperate lix, ass slapping, mild dacryphilia, one (1) dry orgasm (idk it was hot to me lmao)

Summary: changbin fell in love with his best friend, felix, and now felix wants to be his first guy.

Word count: 9332

A/N: so this is written from changbin’s pov and it is actually the first ship fic i wrote (at least the first ship fic i’ve written since high school). i actually wrote it before asking for pride fic requests last year and contemplated keeping it for myself or putting it on my ko-fi but felt it was too good not to share. and ofc i had to go with the classic friends to lovers trope because that’s just the kind of person i am lmao anyways i’m almost done with my next pride piece and i’m working on the three requests i received! i hope you all enjoy this and please feel free to give a follow! be sure to drop your feedback in the comments and please look forward to what i’ve got in store for you!! also i’m revamping my tag list so please submit an ask, send a message, or leave a comment if you’d like to be added to that! thank you all for your support <3

I don’t remember when it started or even how it started, if I’m honest. I just know that one day I woke up and the first thought on my mind was how pretty Felix would look with a morning blush. I’d had passing thoughts about his beauty so I paid it no mind, I was comfortable enough in my sexuality to recognize an attractive man when I saw one. Then the dream came rushing back and flooded my senses. I felt guilty as images of my best friend writhing around beneath me appeared in my mind.

I remember thinking “What the fuck was that? I’m not even gay. Why did I dream about fucking my best friend? And why am I hard?”

I remember being disgusted with myself as I rubbed one out in the shower, visions of Felix with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw hanging open as he cried my name swimming in my vision. I remember icing him out for a few days, afraid he’d somehow know I’d had a wet dream starring him. I remember being terrified and ashamed of what I was feeling. That dream made me reconsider my sexuality.

Over the course of a year, I’d fought with my feelings for him and tried to ignore both my crush and my sudden shift in sexual preference. But he made it so much easier. I never told him who was making me feel these things but he made me feel safe. He helped me figure things out. He knew something was wrong when I started avoiding him at first and when I finally confided in him, he was nothing short of an angel. He stayed up with me several nights when I was having a hard time coming to terms with my sexuality and he assured me nothing was wrong with me. He told me that he’d had the same struggle a few years ago and he took his time to accept it but once he finally did, it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

I followed his lead and allowed him to show me what it meant to truly embrace who I am. He even took me to my first gay bar. I don’t remember much about that night to be honest. I remember getting there and ordering a few shots; remember Felix suggesting a mixed drink. But that’s about it.

I woke up the next morning in his bed, wearing only my boxers. I was mortified but he took it all in stride and when I shuffled into his kitchen, he offered me a smile and a plate of pancakes before telling me he’d washed my clothes because I got sick right outside his apartment building. I was horrified and ashamed - less so when I found out we hadn’t fucked, but still embarrassed - but he was so kind and I found myself getting flustered every time he offered me a smile over breakfast. I was acutely aware of my nakedness in that moment but he paid it no mind. At least that’s what I told myself when his eyes lingered just a little too long on my ass while I took my plate to the sink.

That had become routine over the last year- the clubbing, not the puking and waking up naked at his place. I’d grown comfortable with myself again and had simply accepted that I had feelings for my best friend. That I have feelings for my best friend. As in, present tense. They never went away and I learned to be okay with it.

This leads to my current predicament. I’m a confident man. I’m aware that I’m good looking. Sometimes I turn myself on. Maybe that’s conceited but who’s it really hurting? Because of this, I sometimes take pictures or record myself jacking off. My camera roll is full of dick pics and videos of me begging for Felix to come ride me.

And now Felix is looking at me expectantly from his position beside me on my bed, both of us slumped against the headboard. “Oh come on! Lemme see how it turned out!” He nudges my shoulder with his as his smile betrays him. He is pretending to be exasperated but he can’t pull it off. We’ve just taken a photo together with some dumb filter and he wants to look at it. Except he’s been known to scroll a bit before and I’m afraid he’ll find the video I recorded only a few hours earlier. “Pretty please?” He resorts to pouting and begging and my heart flips at the way his bottom lip pokes out.

I can’t say no when he looks at me like that and he seems to know since he always does it to get his way. I usually don’t mind indulging him but I’m anxious as I hand him my phone. “Fine. But don’t scro-”

“OH MY GOD THAT'S YOUR DICK-” He shouts as he drops the phone in surprise and my face feels like I’ve just opened the oven without leaning back first; I’m on fire. I try to grab my phone from where it landed on his chest but he gives me an evil smirk and holds it out of reach. “Who’s it for? Did you finally get on one of those dating apps I suggested?”

“Absolutely not. I-”

“So why do you have dick pics?”

“Do you not?”

“Not my dick pics.”

My eyes widen a bit and I look away, embarrassed by my train of thought. How many guys had sent him nudes and how many did he save? I’m not sure I want to know. I shake my head and hold my hand out. “Give it back, dude.”

He ignores me and scrolls through the photos of me fisting my cock before he finally stumbles upon the video. I jump to grab my phone, panicking this time, but it’s too late. We both go silent as my voice calling his name fills the room and I can see his cheeks reddening. After a moment I snap out of my trance and snatch my phone back, clearing my throat awkwardly. “That wasn’t for you…”

Felix, of course, throws another curveball at me and I have to force myself not to physically shudder at his tone. “Clearly it was for me, you were moaning my name while you fucked your fist.” I’d never heard him say anything so…nasty before. He usually keeps things pretty PG.

“Lix, don’t-”

“Was it me?” He suddenly asks as he sits up. His tone isn’t accusatory or panicked so I take it as a good sign and let out a sigh as I nod. I know what he’s asking.

“Yeah. You were the one I had that dream about.” I rake a hand through my hair and look away. “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, Lix, can we please just pretend this never happened?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and I sigh once more. “I had my suspicions, you know.” His voice is gentle as his small hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “I wasn’t oblivious to it. I just wanted things to unfold on their own. I didn’t want to push you when you were still coming to terms with everything, but I knew.”

My face is on fire yet again and it only gets worse when he pushes me back against the headboard and straddles my waist. His usually-inviting gaze is dark now, hooded as he looks down at me from his position on my lap. His freckles seem to stand out more with the soft blush dusting his cheeks. When his lips part, I immediately give him all my attention - as if he didn’t already have it. I hang on to his every word. I always have.

“I’ve thought about it too, you know.” His voice is a low rumble and it makes my head spin. “I’ve thought about how you sound; about how you taste, how you feel. I’ve spent so much time thinking about it and wondering if I was the man you dreamt about.” My dick twitches to life in my athletic shorts, though I’m terrified to admit I’m getting hard over this.

He’s leaning in close now and my heart is hammering in my chest. “I’m tired of just thinking about it, Binnie…” He whispers, his hands sliding from my shoulders, down my chest and abs as he leans closer to whisper in my ear. My muscles jump under his touch. I’ve always been pretty sensitive but it seems I’m even more responsive when it comes to him. “I wanna act on it.” His teeth ever so gently clamp down on my earlobe and my hands fly to his hips.

“Lix-” my voice is strained, surprising even me. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he manages to work me up without even trying. My fingers dig into the material of his loose sweats as a wave of arousal crashes over me. Before I can speak, he grinds his ass down on my semi and I can’t suppress the low groan I let out.

“I know you wanna act on it too, Binnie.” He whispers by my ear before allowing his tongue to soothe the area he’d just bitten. “I know you’re watching me in that mirror right now too.” He adds as his plump lips trail along my jaw and I have half a mind to deny it but that desire flees with his next question. “Do I look pretty on top like this?” His teeth rake over my skin and my grip on his hips tightens yet again as I watch him in the mirror that hangs over my bed.

“Fucking stunning, Lixie.” I rasp out, squeezing his hips as he sets a slow, steady pace. The sound he lets out at both the name and my touch makes my heart pound. I don’t watch him much longer, opting instead to turn my face towards his neck and press a series of kisses there, nipping at his skin after the final one. He fucking whimpers and my dick throbs against his ass.

But then he pulls away and sits up. I watch him in confusion, almost pouting when he pushes my hands away. “I can’t take it.” He whispers as he whips his shirt off. “I need you. Right now.” He looks back down at me, his warm blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes. He pushes it out of his face before reaching for the hem of my shirt.

I let him start to undress me, growing amused at just how frantic he’s becoming. “Relax, baby. We have all the time in the world.” I tease, flashing a smirk at him as I reach for him again. I pull him into me and he squeaks in surprise as our bare chests meet, his hands flying to my biceps. I can’t help but flex a bit. He whispers a soft ‘hi’, which I return as my fingers begin to trace circles on his back. He looks so pretty when he shudders at my touch.

I grow serious after a moment. I’ve never been with a man before. I’ve had plenty of sex but it’s been about a year since the last time and that time was with a woman because I was actively trying to deny my feelings for him. It’s not that I’m afraid or uncomfortable, I just need him to take it slow so I can learn his body; learn how he likes to be touched and how this actually works.

He can sense this. His eyes widen a bit, which is fucking adorable given his flushed cheeks, and he lets his hands slide up my arms to rest on my shoulders. “Am…am I your first?” I give a slight nod and his expression grows fond, a soft smile settling on his thick lips. “I’ll try to be patient.” He teases and both of us give a soft chuckle before my arms tighten around his waist.

“Can…” I start and bite my lip pensively. Should I ask for his permission? I mean, surely he won’t mind it since he initiated everything. Still, I ask. “Can I kiss you, Felix?”

His nod is almost imperceptible but I see it. He doesn’t make a move to lean in and I move one arm from his waist. Everything is still as we stare at each other, my free hand coming up to his face. I brush my knuckles along his jaw and he shivers, his breath hitching as I lean up towards him and let my hand cup his jaw. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about this.” I mimic his previous statement when we’re only a centimeter apart and his lips curl up into a soft smile before I bring my own lips to meet his.

It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything feels right when I’m kissing him. He tastes like the blue raspberry lollipop he was sucking on earlier - distractingly, might I add - but I’m certain he’d be just as sweet without the lingering taste of candy. I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip and he lets out yet another whimper, making my dick twitch again.

He slowly pulls back for air and I peek out at him, noticing a tiny smile on his lips again. “You taste like candy.” I whisper and he lets out a soft giggle, making my heart melt.

“So do you.” He whispers back. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He adds before crashing his lips back to mine. His hands are on my neck now, his thumbs resting just in front of my ears as he splays his fingers out on my feverish skin. This kiss is more urgent, more passionate. I let my hand move to the back of his head and suck in a deep breath as he nips at my lip. His hips begin to move again and the hand I’ve tangled in his sunny tresses becomes a fist.

His elbows are tucked in and it almost feels like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Does he like to feel small? I almost melt over how endearing he is but I manage to hold myself together. I can make him feel small and cared for.

I can’t help but give his hair a soft tug as I sweep my tongue into his mouth. He lets out the prettiest whine and reaches one hand between us, palming at the front of my shorts as he stills his hips. He’s growing frantic again and I can tell he’s desperate to be touched right now.

He doesn’t let me explore his mouth for too long, instead urging my head back so he can trail kisses along my throat. His lips work down my neck and just as I release his waist so I can slip a hand into his sweats, he begins his descent down my body. Molten lava fills my veins and I freeze in place when his lips trail down my chest while his hands make quick work of my shorts. He doesn’t tug my boxers down just yet, opting to tease me through the thin material. After lifting my hips for him, I look down at him.

I watch as he settles on his belly between my legs and admires the strain in my boxers. He props himself up on one elbow while he runs his free hand along my thigh. He turns and presses a kiss to my other thigh, dangerously close to my dick. “Lixie-” I hiss and he simply hums, allowing his lips to press more tender kisses to my skin and then the material of my boxers. He looks drunk now.

His hand rests on my hip as he begins to mouth at my barely-concealed hard-on and I let out a low groan. He leaves a series of sloppy kisses on the front of my boxers before closing his lips around my clothed tip. I suck in a ragged breath at the sensation and let my head fall back against the headboard with a dull thud. “Felix, please-” I sigh.

I don’t know why I anticipated him to refuse and continue teasing me, but that’s not what happens. He instantly gets up on his knees and urges me to lift my hips, which I do with no hesitation. My cock springs free from its confinement and I hiss slightly. I lift my head with all the strength I can muster and watch him settle back in before wrapping a small hand around my dick.

Something in me is screaming that I need to watch, to take in every second of his attention on me, but it’s becoming hard to hold my head up. The anticipation is driving me up the wall. My breathing is ragged as he gives a few strokes before making eye contact and wrapping his lips around my angry red head. I let out a soft sigh as his tongue swirls around the tip and my eyes slip closed. It’s only just started but this is already the best head of my life.

Then he takes me as far as he can and I feel like I’m floating. The sound that escapes me is choked and draws an amused hum from him. I allow my head to fall back against the headboard once more, the thud much louder this time, but force my eyes open, watching in the mirror as he throats my dick. I take in the way his head bobs over my hips and how his back is arched ever so slightly with the way he’s propped up. I admire the way he has one leg hiked up while the other is stretched out straight.

Between the slurping sounds and the way he’s rutting against the bed, I feel like I’m going to combust. He pulls off to breathe but continues to jerk me and I feel a bubble of disappointment settle in my belly. I know why he stopped but fuck it felt so good. He presses a series of kisses to my hips and thighs as he catches his breath and I almost have the strength to look back down at him but then he swallows me whole again and I almost pass out.

He’s working faster now, with more vigor, and I can’t dream of containing the noises he seems so set on drawing out of me. “Fuck, Lixie, slow down-” I groan, tangling a fist in his hair. He lets out a whimper at the tug and I notice how he bucks his hips harder at the contact as I’m watching his reflection. “I won’t last-”

He pulls off and stops moving, staring up at me. “Look at me.” His voice is oddly demanding and I can’t bring myself to deny him. I lift my head and make eye contact. “Sit up. I want you to watch me make you cum.” I have half a mind to flip things and pin him down, to teach him a lesson for getting so bossy with me, but I let it slide because I’m admittedly desperate to feel his mouth back on my aching cock. I resituate myself without a word and he gives a satisfied sound. “Good boy.”

“Thin ice, Lixie.” I warn and he lets out a soft giggle.

“Worth a shot.” He hums before growing serious again. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve gotten off to the thought of sucking you off.” He sighs almost dreamily before taking the tip back in his mouth. He looks up at me as he hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue yet again, his hand working the rest of my cock. It’s clear he’s set on making me cum before I get the chance to fuck him, before I have the chance to get him equally as worked up.

He’s about to have his way. The knot in the pit of my belly is dangerously close to unraveling and I can’t stifle the noises he’s drawing out of me.

That knot comes undone the second I feel his free hand move to fondle my balls. “Fuck-” I almost drop my head back but the desire to have this image burned in my mind is stronger. Wave after wave of arousal floods my body as I shoot my load into his mouth, his fingertips just barely teasing my balls. I watch as he swallows my cum, my body on fire as he continues to work my dick until I’m about to beg him to stop.

He pulls off right before I open my mouth to stop him and licks his lips. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls himself to his knees and moves up the bed to kiss me. My arms are around his waist and his hands rest on my neck like before. I taste myself on his lips and when I sweep my tongue into his mouth. I’m straining up to kiss him as he’s towering over me and part of me wishes he’d sit down instead of standing on his knees. I don’t voice this, opting instead to focus on how good it feels to be with him like this.

My hands trail along his back, my fingertips ghosting over his skin, and he shivers. How cute. I let my fingers dip past his waistband and he sucks in a shaky breath, not once pulling away from the kiss as I give his bare ass a squeeze. I push his sweats and boxers down in one go and he finally breaks the kiss, looking down between us as his cock springs free. He presses his forehead to mine as I reach between us and he gasps when my callused hand wraps around his dick, his jaw hanging slack.

I realize this is the first time in my life I’m touching a dick that isn’t mine and I feel like a curious teenager all over again. I give an experimental tug, touching him the way I like to be touched, and he whines softly. The sound goes straight to my cock and I decide I have to keep hearing it. It’s just too pretty. He’s just too pretty. “What do you want? Tell me what you like, baby.” I whisper and his breath hitches. I can’t tell if it’s because of the name or the way my hand is working his hard-on, but I’m beyond caring.

“Just- just want you, Bin…” he whispers back and I shake my head.

“You know what I mean, Lix.” I gently nudge him back so I can meet his gaze and his face is bright red. How fucking cute. “I can’t just go for it without you telling me what you like and what feels good. I’ve never slept with a guy before. All the experience I have means nothing in this context.” My voice is gentle, not scolding. He already looks flustered enough.

He nods and swallows thickly as he tries to form a coherent sentence. I know the way my hand is slowly jerking him is making his mind run blank. “I-I’ll show you how. Just…please don’t stop-” His words are cut short by a surprisingly high-pitched moan when I dig my thumb into the slit. “Fuck- definitely don’t stop.”

I can’t help but chuckle softly at his response, feeling empowered by his reaction. “You like it when I do that?” I tease and he nods vigorously. “Words, baby. Tell me, do you like it when I do that?” I may sound like an ass right now but I don’t really care. I’m feeling high from this and every sound he makes pushes me closer to losing myself. I want to hear him say it.

“Y-yes!” He moans out, ducking his face into my neck. “Yes, I love it when you touch me like that. Want you to do it again. Please?” He’s quiet, his voice muffled by my shoulder, but I hear him clearly. I can’t deny him anything. I’ve never been able to deny him anything, even before I was nursing a crush on him. I dig my thumb in again and he lets out a choked sound, bucking into my hand.

He whimpers in distress when I release his cock, his head snapping up from my shoulder with wide, bleary eyes. He looks entirely dazed and disappointed at the loss of contact. Confused even. I sooth him with a quick peck before pulling him against my chest and flipping us so he’s on his back.

He looks pretty staring up at me like this. He always looks pretty, of course, but I’ve wanted to see him under me for so long now. I stare back at him for a moment before ducking down to kiss him. He moves to wrap his arms around my neck but I gently pin his wrists to the bed and he lets out a soft groan.

My lips move to his jaw and I press a few soft kisses there before beginning my descent. I nip at his neck and press chaste kisses to his collarbones; allow my tongue to flick over his nipples, earning a tiny squeak. “Let me hear.” I pause, looking up at him. I can tell he’s holding back and I want to hear every sound he makes. He nods slowly and I peck the center of his chest. “Good boy.” He keens at the name and I grin to myself. “You like being called a good boy, don’t you Lixie?”

“Fucking love it…” He whispers, his head falling back against the headboard. He’s more slumped than I’d been so I can just barely see his face as I move down his body. “Wanted to hear you call me a good boy for so long.” He sighs, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of my lips on his skin.

“Yeah?” He nods and hums out a soft ‘uh huh’. “I bet you were thinking about it while imagining blowing me, weren’t you?” He gives the same response and I let out a quiet laugh as my lips ghost over his abs. He’s got well-defined muscles, which is a pleasant surprise for anyone who is blessed to see him shirtless.

His dick twitches as I kiss his hips and he whines softly when I don’t immediately touch him. I’m somewhat nervous now as I settle on my stomach between his legs. Again, I’ve had plenty of sex, but never with a man. I’m curious. But I’m also so unsure of myself. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and hesitantly lick the tip, propping on one arm the way he had only minutes prior.

He gasps softly at the sensation and I do it again, looking up to gauge his reaction. His eyes are screwed shut, his brow furrowed as he focuses on my touch. His lips are parted, allowing puffs of air and soft sounds of pleasure to escape. Slowly, carefully, I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and he lets out a whine so stunning I think I might just pass away.

“Please- more-” He gasps out and I tentatively flick my tongue. “J-just like that…” he whispers, assuring me I’m doing this right. I repeat my actions over and over, my hand working the rest of him, until he’s a worked up, whining mess. I pull off briefly and his head snaps up, his eyes flying open. Before he can ask why I stopped, I lock eyes with him and allow a thick string of drool to drip down from my mouth and onto the tip of his cock before spreading it around with my hand. He whimpers helplessly at the sight and I feel his dick throb in my hand.

Without breaking eye contact, I take him back in my mouth with more confidence than before and set out to finish him off. I want to taste more of him. I ease myself down his cock, taking him as far as I can manage before gagging a bit. He’s nodding at me now, assuring me I’m doing a good job, and my mind runs blank. All I can think about is making him feel good. I finally have him right where I want him - under me - and I’m determined to make this worth it for him.

I repeat my actions over and over until he’s desperately tugging at my hair and bucking his hips. Every time he shoves his cock down my throat, I gag around him and he lets out another pretty moan. He’s losing himself now and I feel powerful yet again. Then he starts begging.

“Please- oh my fucking god- ‘m gonna cum-” He moans out, letting his head fall back against the headboard.

Immediately, I pull off his drooling dick and repeat his previous statement, though my tone is much more demanding. “Look at me. I want you to watch me make you cum.” He lets out one of the most distressed sounds I’ve ever heard from him and quickly complies, propping himself up on one elbow so one hand is still free to tug at my hair. “Good boy.” I coo and take him back in my mouth.

His jaw hangs slack as his grip on my hair grows tighter and tighter to the point it’s painful. I love it. I find myself rutting against the bed just like he had earlier as I dig my tongue into the slit. The sound he lets out isn’t simply a moan, it’s a cry. He’s desperate for release now and he’s so, so sensitive. “A-again! Please- do it again-” He begs and I can’t dream of denying him.

The moment I repeat my actions, I feel his cum against my tongue. I take it all but I don’t swallow. I want him to get a taste of himself. I move up the bed as he comes down from his high and immediately press my lips to his, much like he’d done earlier. I gently grip his chin, urging him to open his mouth. He complies eagerly and I use my tongue to push his cum into his mouth, sharing it with him. We exchange it back and forth for a few seconds before I pull away and swallow what’s left.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but it was hot.” He giggles breathlessly and I chuckle softly. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what came over me just then, but it was one of the hottest things I’d ever done. I realize we’re staring at each other but I don’t dare move.

Things are still again, like when I asked to kiss him, except now he’s smiling up at me. We’re comfortable now, less on edge, but I’m far from done with him. I bring my hand to his face and run my thumb over his cheekbone as he leans into my touch, his eyes slipping shut. “You’re so pretty.” I whisper and his cheeks go a soft rose color.

“You’re prettier.” He whispers back, looking up at me. I chuckle and shake my head before he gently pushes me back. I sit up, slightly confused, and he rolls onto his side. I want to pin him back in place but I also have no clue what he’s doing. “You should really learn to put these things away.” He teases as he reaches for something on the other side of my bed.

It’s then that I realize I left my lube laying at the top of the pillow, tucked just far enough out of sight for me to forget its existence. It had slipped between the pillow and headboard, just barely peeking out. I let out a soft huff of laughter and move to take it but he playfully swats my hand away. “Sit.” He gestures to the headboard and I comply, moving to sit with my back against the cool wood.

I watch as he grabs a couple of pillows to recline on and pops the cap on the tube. “I’ve always wanted to put on a show for you…” he murmurs, his legs falling open as he squeezes some of the candy-scented lube onto his fingers to warm it up.

“How fitting. I’ve always wanted to watch you put on a show.” I smirk and he lets out a soft huff of laughter before whimpering quietly as his middle finger circles his entrance. His face scrunches up cutely as he slowly works himself up, soft sighs slipping past his pillowy lips.

After a few minutes of teasing, he carefully presses his middle finger into himself and makes yet another beautiful sound. God I wish I were the one touching him like that. Maybe he’ll let me…

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty like this…” I groan, watching as he finger fucks himself open for me. I wrap a hand around my dick and watch as he tries not to get too far ahead of himself.

“Yeah? How pretty?” He whimpers, adding a second finger as he looks at me. I see his cock twitch upon the realization that I’m enjoying what he’s doing and my gaze lifts to his face.

“So fucking pretty, baby. The prettiest.” His jaw drops and he lets his head tip back. It’s interesting to see just how much my words affect him.

Then he lets out a whine of frustration. “Can’t reach-” he huffs and I’m all too eager to offer assistance.

“Want me to take over, angel?” Stars fill his eyes at the name as he nods enthusiastically, immediately pulling his hand back to give me access.

“Please…”

I waste no time in grabbing the lube and squeezing some onto my fingers as I bring myself to my knees between his legs. I notice him tense and I pause, worried he might be uncomfortable. “Is everything okay, Lix?” I ask softly, still coating my fingers and warming the lube as I speak.

“Hmm?” It’s then that I see his eyes have become glossy and half-lidded. “Oh- yeah, everything is great.” He smiles up at me but I don’t move so he elaborates. “I was getting ahead of myself.”

“Aww, lost in thought about how it’ll feel when I fuck you?” He nods vigorously and I smirk as I lean down, propping myself up on one hand which is planted by his head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you won’t have to wait to find out much longer.” His face goes bright red again as I slip my hand between his legs.

In reality, I’m just as worked up as he is and I’m nervous. I’m talking a big game for someone who has never fucked a guy before. But I’m encouraged by his reaction as I press a slick finger inside him.

His jaw is still hanging slack and he lets out a soft whine. I’m honestly a little surprised by his reaction. He’s already stretched himself a good bit so it’s not a shocking sensation or anything. Is he really that affected by my touch? “C-curl-” He urges and I do, earning a high-pitched moan as my finger comes into contact with his prostate.

With a renewed sense of courage, I begin to finger fuck him, repeatedly dragging my finger over his prostate. After only a minute, he begs me for another so I give it to him, watching his face contort in pleasure as I hover over him. I lower myself down and begin to press kisses to his neck, earning sighs of pleasure.

But then he grabs my wrist, pushing my hand away, and I freeze. “Can’t- fuck, I can’t take it-” He grabs the lube as he speaks and puts more than a generous amount on his palm before wrapping his hand around my hard-on. “Please just fuck me already-” He begs as he coats my dick and it twitches in his hand. He looks up at me with a sly grin. “You like when I beg, Binnie?”

My cock throbs again and I instantly pull my fingers out of him and place my hand over his, bucking my hips when he digs his thumb into the slit. “I fucking love it, angel. Love that name too.” I see the stars in his eyes again and gently push his hand away. He takes hold of his own dick with his messy hand, biting his lip when I line up.

I slowly push in, watching as his lips part and he lets out a soft gasp. I’m short circuiting now. He’s tighter than any woman I ever fucked and now my jaw is hanging slack like his has been since he saw my dick pic. “Oh my fucking god, Lixie…” I choke out before I’m even halfway in.

My face screws up in pleasure and I hiss softly as my hips meet his. I don’t know if he wants me to move yet or not but I have to stay still for a moment or I will finish too early, I can feel it. “Binnie…” I manage to force my eyes open and his expression almost makes me lose myself. He’s staring up at me with half-lidded eyes, his pillowy lips parted and allowing little puffs of air to escape. “Kiss me…” He whispers, following it up with a soft ‘please?’ as he gives his cock a tug.

I don’t need to be asked twice. I plant my free hand on the other side of his head as I dip down to kiss him, making a mental note to change the sheets before letting him settle in for the night. Our lips meet and he tangles his free hand in my hair, giving a soft tug.

I groan against his lips and he continues to pull until it hurts. I wince at the pain and stop my hips from moving as he riles me up. He doesn’t seem to like this and gives another tug. He continues to give sporadic tugs as my tongue sweeps into his mouth until I finally buck my hips. He lets out a broken moan against my lips and I pull back so I can hear him fully.

“Gonna sing for me, pretty boy?” I tease as I snap my hips forwards, earning a loud, whiny ‘uh huh’ as he nods. “Tell me how you want it, baby.” I whisper, giving shallow thrusts as I listen for his response.

“I don’t care.” He groans, working his hand a bit faster. “I don’t care how you fuck me, Bin, just please make me cum.” He begs in a pathetic tone and a thrill runs through my body.

“Any way I want?” He nods and I sit up between his legs. I gently push his hand away from his dick and press his knees towards his chest, my hands supporting him so he can just relax and feel everything I’m doing to him. “Lix?” He looks up and I catch his eye. “Tell me if anything is off, yeah?” I’m so worried I’m going to mess this up somehow. Maybe it’s because it’s Felix, my best friend and the man I’ve had feelings for for over a year, and not just some random guy.

“Of course.” I breathe a sigh of relief and he bites his lip in a failed attempt to conceal a tiny smile. “But don’t expect to hear anything but moans.” I’m slightly taken aback but entirely flattered that he has so much faith in me.

He’s about to encourage me to carry on when I suddenly snap my hips forwards. His jaw drops and his head falls back to the pillows, a quiet moan slipping past his plump lips. “You mean like that?” I tease as I set a steady pace, suppressing my own sounds save for the soft cursing under my breath.

He nods frantically and I just barely notice him wipe his hands clean before holding his legs just above where I’m holding. “Please touch my cock, Binnie. I need it. I need you to touch me. Pretty please?” He begs as I begin to speed up, feeling more confident with every gasp and moan I draw from him.

I release his thighs and wrap my right hand around his dick, stifling a low groan as he lets out a breathy moan that vaguely sounds like my name. My gaze is volleying between where we’re connected, my hand tugging at his pretty cock, and his face, which is screwed up in pleasure. My hips falter slightly when I realize he looks just as pretty as he did in the dream that started this whole mess.

I quickly regain my rhythm and tap his hand, signaling him to release his legs. Once he does, I urge them around my waist. My left hand rests on his thigh, close to his hip, and I massage circles on his feverish skin with my thumb. “F-faster-” He chokes, one hand fisting in the sheets while the other blindly searches for my left hand.

He stops my absentminded motion and takes my hand, lacing our fingers. My heart races at the simple gesture and I give a gentle squeeze as I pick up the pace, hips pistoning at a pace I forgot I could reach. I’m about to speak but every thought leaves my mind when I look down at his leaking cock. Just past that, I notice a bulge that appears every time I slam into him.

“Holy fucking shit-” I hiss as I watch in wonder. A new wave of arousal crashes over me at the sight and I’m hit with the urge to breed him; to make him wholly mine. I know it makes no sense but I can’t help it. “Lixie, baby, you’re so fucking perfect…” I groan and he squeezes my hand.

I release his dick and ghost my fingers over the bulge appearing in his belly with each thrust. He whines in disappointment at the loss of stimulation but lifts his head when he feels my fingertips on his skin. He zeroes in on what I’m fixated on and I feel him clench around me, drawing a loud moan from me. “Oh fuck-” His jaw drops as he watches, precum dribbling on his skin at the sight, which only makes it hotter. “Oh fuck ‘m gonna cum-” He warns and I instantly wrap my hand back around his cock, set on finishing him off.

I’m fighting to stay composed as I fuck into him. I want him to cum first. And he does. He lets out a cry that resembles my name as cum spurts across his belly, his grip on my hand tightening as he shudders in pleasure. I don’t stop jacking him off until he’s trembling and squeezing my hand almost painfully. Finally, I release him. “Where do you want it, bab-?”

He doesn’t even let me finish speaking. “Inside. Please cum inside.” His tone is desperate as he begs and he sounds close to tears. Not being able to refuse him, I let go.

My thrusts become sloppy and a moment later my orgasm crashes over me. I rut into him desperately, my entire body overtaken by a euphoria I’ve never experienced before. I’m pinning his hands above his head as I fall into him even before the ecstasy has passed, hips still jerking as I crash my lips to his in a desperate kiss.

He moans against my lips, squeezing my hands as my hips slow. Finally, I still as my tongue dips into his mouth. He still tastes like that blue raspberry lollipop from earlier.

I hum as I pull back for air and he bites his lip as he looks up at me. We stare at each other in silence, both of us praying that this isn’t a one time thing but neither of us willing to ask. I release his hands in favor of playing with his hair after pushing it out of his face. “You did so good.”

“Mm usually I’m the one giving the praise, sweetheart.” I tease and he giggles softly, bringing his hands to my cheeks and tracing my cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Well I’m the one with more experience so I get to dole out praises this time.” He sticks his tongue out playfully before smiling up at me again. “Seriously though, you’re fucking amazing.”

I lean down and peck his lips again before sitting up, pulling him with me so we’re still chest to chest. I’m vaguely aware of the way our bodies are pressed together, his cum smearing across both of us now. More importantly, I’m aware of how the change in position drives me deeper into him; aware of the tiny gasp that slips past his lips.

“I think that’s you, baby.” I whisper and peck his lips again. I can’t help myself. I’ve wanted to kiss him for a whole year now.

He goes quiet for a moment as he looks at me and I wonder what he’s thinking. Before I can ask, he’s tipping us over and I’m landing on my back beneath him. “No, it’s you. I can’t get enough.” He whispers and rolls his hips.

I hiss at the motion and plant my feet on the mattress, trying to tighten my grip on him to hold him still while I buck into him, but he pushes my hands away. He grabs my wrists and pins my hands by my head at first, pulling back so he can look down at me. My softening dick begins to stiffen again and I make a mental note to contemplate exactly why it was so hot to be pinned down by him when he’s the most obviously submissive man I’ve ever met. Then he releases me and sits up properly on my lap.

“What have you done to me?” He whines softly, lifting himself up so just the tip is inside before dropping back down. I raise an eyebrow as my hands move to his hips and he tips his head back, looking up at himself in the mirror. “You already wrecked me, why am I still so fucking horny?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his complaint. “What? Tiny baby needs to be filled with cum again to feel satisfied?” My tone is mocking and I can feel the effect my words have on him. He clenches around me as his whole body tenses and I see his eyes slip shut in the mirror as he makes a pathetic noise.

“Yes! God yes-” He moans, pushing into my touch when my hands move to squeeze his ass. “Want you to fill me up again. Wanna make you cum for me again…” He babbles on as he lifts himself up and drops back down, letting out what almost sounds like a squeal.

He sets a steady pace like this, a symphony of the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard falling from his lips as he rides me. His head lolls around, alternating between watching himself in the mirror and looking down at me. I can’t tear my eyes away from his body, fixated on the way his muscles contract and the bulge that appears as he fucks me.

I don’t know what possesses me to do this, but I slap his ass and he jolts on top of me. His dick twitches and he moans out my name. He leans forwards and places his hands on my abs, balancing himself as he rocks back on my dick. I buck my hips and he whimpers. “No no no, lemme do it. I wanna do this. Wanna make you cum…” He argues and I can't deny him anything so I comply.

It’s difficult to stay still but I settle for guiding his hips. His head hangs as he rides me, his moans growing increasingly desperate each time our bodies meet. My body is on fire at the slight overstimulation but I welcome it.

Felix doesn’t seem to be faring as well. His moans have turned into cries and he tries to hide his face from me by tossing his head back as he sits up. I see it though and I notice the tears. I’m worried but he’s still going, lifting himself up with much effort and dropping back down in a heap. “Baby, do you need a break?”

“J-just a little…” he wipes his cheeks but doesn’t stop moving. “But I wanna keep going.”

“Why don’t you let me take over, Lixie?” He shakes his head and I gently squeeze his hips. “Please, angel?” He freezes at the name and nods after a moment of silence.

I immediately sit up and make him lay back before pulling out, some of my cum leaking out of him. I don’t bother asking him to roll over, I position him myself. I put him on his belly and push one leg up, like the way he’d laid while sucking me off. I grab his ass and see him clench around nothing, whimpering at my treatment of him. “Please fuck me, Binnie…” He whines out and I squeeze some more lube onto my dick before I line up.

I push into him and set a rough pace, giving his ass a slap as I listen to his wails. His hands fist the sheets as lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. He lets out a pretty sob every time I slap his ass.

My gaze bounces back and forth between his ass - I can’t help but admire the way it jiggles every time I slam into him - and his hands twisted in the sheets. He looks so pretty on display for me like this, crying into my sheets. It’s better than any dream I could’ve had and my dick twitches inside him. Fuck I’m close.

“Fuck- Binnie, please cum inside! Please- want you to cum first and fill me up-” He begs and my dick twitches again.

“Yeah? Gonna take it all like a good boy? Gonna cum and make a mess of my sheets?”

“Yes!” He sobs and I can't help myself. I give in to the fire licking at my skin and cum, relishing in his moans as I fill him up. He shudders beneath me as he joins me, his body jerking with the force of his orgasm.

I don’t stop until I’m on fire, until I can’t take it anymore. He’s trembling now. I pull out slowly and he makes a small sound of protest. I lean down and press my lips to his shoulder, kissing there several times before sitting back up. “You did so good for me, baby. Took it so well.” I coo as I gently roll him onto his back, only to discover he’d had a dry orgasm.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully and I nod, leaning back over him and swiping my knuckles over his cheeks to dry his tears.

“Yeah.” I offer a small smile before pecking his pouty lips. “Why don’t you let me get you cleaned up and then we can snuggle?”

“How about I go get cleaned up while you change the sheets and then we cuddle?” He laughs softly, taking in a shaky breath afterwards as he stares up at me in what I can only describe as adoration.

“Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?” I ask as we both sit up and he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He assures me as he stands. Part of me deflates a little because I want to dote on him, but that part is pacified when he turns around and plants his lips on mine. I rise up on my knees as we kiss, pulling him against me. I frown a little when he pulls back. “I’ll be right back.”

I nod and watch him walk into my en suite bathroom before pulling myself from my trance. Holy shit. I fucked my best friend.

I get up from the bed and quickly pull the sheets off, using them to wipe his cum off my stomach and clean my dick. I toss them in the hamper and grab a pair of boxers, pulling them on before going to the closet to get fresh sheets.

I’m wrestling with the fitted sheet when Felix comes out of the bathroom and grabs his boxers from the floor. “Need a hand?” He teases, his usual glow back tenfold.

“Maybe a little.” I chuckle and he helps me quickly finish making the bed before crawling under the sheets. I join him and prop up on one arm, resting my head on my hand. I take a moment to admire him, his bright eyes framed with long lashes and full lips that could easily put any Bratz doll to shame, before speaking. “How long did you know?”

He takes a moment to take me in as well before answering. “I only assumed, but ever since you told me you had ‘an intimate dream about a guy’ after icing me out for two weeks. It made sense. I wondered why you avoided me but then you told me you had that dream and I guessed it had something to do with me.”

“Then…how long have you thought about sleeping with me?” I might be pushing my luck but I’m curious.

“Long before you ever questioned your sexuality.” He scoffs at himself and looks down at my bare chest with a ghost of a smile, his cheeks going a soft pink. “I think it started that day at the park when we were in high school. Remember that picnic we went on? You were by my side the whole time and you complimented me a few times. You just looked so good that day and you were so laid back and fun, I couldn't help but admire you. That never really changed though, you being carefree.”

It’s my turn to blush now. A smile creeps onto my face as I listen and I finally wrap an arm around him, pulling him against me. “That long?” He nods and I kiss his forehead. “You must’ve known something I didn’t back then.” I tease.

“No,” he laughs. “I used to lament the fact I had a crush on the straight guy.” He snuggles into my chest and lets out a soft sigh. “Part of me wondered if I was ever obvious about it. I don’t know if I ever acted weird around you. I feel like I did.”

“If you did, I never noticed. You’ve always been a sweetheart, I just figured you were extra sweet in private with everyone.” I laugh in spite of myself. How did I never pick up on it? To be fair, I thought I was straight until a little over a year ago. “It’s endearing.”

“It is?” I can hear his smile in his voice.

“It is. Everything about you is. You’re the resident sunshine, after all.”

“I like when you call me stuff like that.”

“Yeah?” He nods. “I think ‘angel’ is your favorite, hmm?” He nods again and I kiss the top of his head before laying my head down. “Cute. Well I’m glad you like it because I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“You better not.” He’s pouting now, I’m sure of it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won't.”

“Good. You better keep calling me your baby.” I can’t stop the smile I’m wearing from growing wider.

“I will because you are.” I hum. I don’t know what we are but I do know we’re more than friends and I do know I’m never getting over him. “Sweet dreams.” I whisper when I notice his breathing even out.

Whatever this is, I’m content to hold him in my arms for the rest of the night.

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids changbin #changbin #changbin smut #chanbin x felix #changlix #changlix smut #stray kids felix #lee felix #lee felix smut #kpop pride #pride month event 2023 #this was the result of several months of severe brain rot #i hope you like it #because it's one of my favorites #alura’s works

[ifangirlalot]

hi omg, can you please write a Finn x Reader where they meet on the set of stranger things, it's kind of weird/awkward at first, they don't know why though (it's tension you idiots), but they gradually become closer, it's just a lot of fluff and mutual pining, maybe jealousy? idk, but, I'd love for you to write this, thank youuuu

ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ | starring finn wolfhard

I was way too excited for this request oh. my. god.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

~fluff!~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:] n/a

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Finn's POV

She's only going to be here for the next couple days at the most. It's usually pretty frowned upon for actors to have a thing for their co-stars, though of course it tends to happen quite frequently, especially if you work together for years on a show as a love interests.

But the thing is, [Name] isn't my co-star. I don't even have any scenes with her. She's just here as an extra, she'll be gone by next week. And yet... I can't stop thinking about her. I've had to pretend to be in love, infatuated, obsessed, countless times. But to actually feel it is a totally different feeling. My heart keeps slamming against my ribcage so often that there's points I'm actually scared it might break one or something. I'm no doctor, so I'm not entirely sure that's even possible, but whatever.

Pulling me from my thoughts is the voice of one of the producers. Apparently, I've accidently messed up another scene. And even worse yet, she's caught me staring and is staring back, directly into my eyes. My cheeks burn against my face and the tingle of embarrassment rushes over my body. I feel so incredibly foolish.

I can't tell if it's just my lover's eye or if what I see is true, but I think she might be blushing too.

[Name]'s POV

I have a monstrously bad habit of zoning out a lot. It's almost gotten me ran over a couple of times before. Being an extra for Stranger Things sounds like one of my daydreams, not real life. And yet, here I am, on the set of Stranger Things 4. I zoned out again, and the thing that pulls me out of it is a producer calling out for Finn, telling him to focus. When I look up, he's staring directly at me and I feel my face get hot.

Was he staring at me? Without really thinking about it, I bring my hand up to my face and feel around, maybe trying to catch something off it. Surely that's why he's looking at me. Because I have something on it and he's too embarrassed to tell me. I give him a slight smile before I go to change back into my own clothes. My part is done for the day, it's my cue to go home.

Since I'm not apart of the main cast, I don't have a changing room or a trailer so I just have to find a bathroom to change in. After I've collected the plastic bag containing my clothes, I side step to head to the bathroom when a hand (rather uncoordinatedly) blocks my path.

Finn stands there, one hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, the other stretched awkwardly over the doorway.

"Hey-! [Name]-! I, uh. I didn't see you there."

Finn's POV

Right after the words leave my mouth, I immediately want to smack them back in.

Didn't see you there? You're right in front of her, it's obvious you're lying.

A nervous sound, half laugh, half cough, falls from my lips. Oh fuck, this is going terrible.

I plaster an awkward smile on my face. "Hi."

[Name] is giving me a look like she's not entirely sure what's happening, and I can't really blame her. I don't fucking know either. I just wanted to ask her to hang out, now I'm blocking her path and being creepily weird about it. You'd think it would be easier to be smooth with women when you have a whole fanbase of girls after you, but that's not entirely true.

I have about as much charm as a raw piece of cabbage.

"Heyyy.." she says, somewhat awkwardly, drawing out the last syllable of the word.

I clear my throat. I can't keep stalling and if I just let her pass now without going through with it, I would look even weirder. But her eyes-- those damn eyes-- are burning into mine. With every blink, the words escape and run even farther and farther away.

[Name]'s POV

In reality, I think only three seconds or so has passed. But with his dark eyes pinned to mine, it feels like it's been an eternity and a half. My body feels like it's been nailed in place. His eyes are holding me captive like an invisible pair of shackles. I can't move from my place and his gaze is telling me I don't want to. The air feels heavy with some unspoken tension. I can't tell if it's an awkward kind of tension or something else. After another beat or two, Finn's throat clears and breaks the silence. "Hey listen, I was kicking around the idea of us.. maybe.. uh.. you know, hanging out? Or something? Maybe?"

"Oh um.. Yeah, yeah sure. Sounds good, sounds good.. I uh. Should really get dressed and get home, though. I could just like give you my number or something?" I can't help but think about how fucking awful that sounds. I don't let myself dwell on that for too long, though, and before I can blink, he's typing his number into my phone and I'm watching it happen, feeling dazed and dreamy-eyed.

[A Note From Zee]

Hey there! Sorry this took so long. Since this is a lot longer than I originally thought it was going to be, I'll have to publish it in multiple parts, if anyone is interested in that. I've got two other requests to put out before then, though. Uhhh anyways, feel free to leave some feedback.

#💭 ۫⠀IMAGINE.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚ #⊹ . FLUFF ۫ . #finn wolfhard smut #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x you #mike wheeler x reader #stranger things fluff #finn wolfhard fluff #miles fairchild #boris pavlikovsky #boris pavlikovsky smut #mike wheeler smut #miles fairchild smut #richie tozier

[hyungseos-cafe]

Pairing: Ex-best friend!Sunwoo x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning(s): Umm?? Get ready to fight Sunwoo 👊👊 He's a wee bit manipulative here.

Word count: 1.1k+

Summary: Sunwoo + Jealousy? Impossible! Sunwoo watches his friendship with you crumbles before him as he refuses to believe his jealousy got the better of him. Is he able to hold it all together or does he let you fall through the cracks of his ego? 

A/n: I don't really remember why, but this idea suddenly popped into my mind like?? Idk a few months ago and honestly I'm kinda shocked I actually finished this idea in less than two months lol

┊⋆ ˚✯✩. Songs to listen to while reading: Wish You Well - Jeff Bernet, Heather - Conan Gray, Good Grief - Sky .✩✯⋆ ˚ ┊

Taglist: @deoboyznet @zzoguri @from-izzy @quaissants (aka the biggest sunwoo enthusiasts🤌 i hope it’s okay if i tagged you 🥺)

You, the literal definition of perfect sitting in front of me, blinding me from the world. You were my world… Until our argument… Which I kind of started, but that’s besides the point. We never fight, so when we do, things don’t always end pretty. This is one of the cases where it all went sour and unfortunately I don’t know if we can recover. 

“Sunwoo, what’s your problem? Can I not live my own life too?”

“I– I didn’t say you couldn’t”

“You said I shouldn’t have friends because they wouldn’t be able to take care of me like you. Are you saying you’re perfect? I don’t want perfect friends, I want friends that are human, Sunwoo”

“I didn’t say I was perfect! I just don’t want you hanging around them”

That was when all hell broke loose; shoes, pens, vases and even clothes were thrown around Sunwoo’s room. Truthfully there was nothing wrong with those friends you had, I just felt like you were slowly replacing me with them and I got insecure, but of course I would never tell you that, because why would I?

“Oh so there’s a ‘them’ now? I can’t believe you Sunwoo! You have friends of your own too and I don’t say anything about them! Why is it suddenly different when I have my own friends? Are you j–”

“For the last time, I am not fucking jealous or whatever the fuck you want to call it! I just don’t like your friends, okay?” 

“See, you are jealous. Simple”

You gathered your things and started heading towards the door, sadness painted all over your face. I couldn’t bear to look at you, I even missed your silent “Bye Sunwoo” as you slowly shut the door to never come back. 

We’re just friends I kept reminding myself, but if we’re just friends, why does it hurt so much to let you go then? It felt like a void was suddenly created in my heart. Everywhere I look reminds me of you. You always liked the plump blueberries, the smaller ones were too sour and you always ate your cereal before it got soggy. Your lattes always had an extra pump of sweetener and your sweaters all had little holes in them from your cat. 

Three months, that’s how long it’s been since our argument. I haven’t been on social media these three months because your face was everywhere. We still had mutual friends you hangout with and every once in a while I would receive a message from them asking what happened between us. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I got jealous. Honestly, I had nothing to be jealous of since they were good people. They were always looking after you and would call me if anything went wrong. 

You would think three months isn’t a short amount of time, but in these three months I learned one of two things. One, you got a promotion and would be sent to the next city to work the lead role of your company. Two, you moved out of your apartment into the city last month and decided not to tell me. 

I know I shouldn’t be surprised considering how poorly we left things, but I think it may be for the best. I just can’t help, but feel bad with how I treated them. I shouldn’t’ve been jealous, but I was and that’s unfortunately where I’m at now. I’m alone in my own thoughts, the thoughts that pushed them away, the thoughts that cost me my friendship. 

It’s now 6 months now that you left when I received a postcard from you in the mail. It’s a photo of you and… Someone else, you look happy. My heart sank with guilt and remorse as I flipped over the card. 

“Hey Sunwoo! Sorry I left so abruptly, but I got promoted to a new position and was transferred to a new branch in the company. I also met someone, they’re really sweet; kind of reminds me of you! I hope you’ve been well! I’m actually flying back to see some old friends and if you’re free, i’d love to see you”

I was conflicted, why would you of all people want to see me? I left things on such a sour note and yet you want to see me? It’s now a few hours before I am meeting up with you. We arranged to meet at our favorite cafe, the one where we shared all our deepest secrets, yet the biggest one I hid from you is my love for you. 

“Sunwoo, you look good”

“Thanks, you too”

I forced my response because just moments before I saw you, you were holding hands with someone else. Someone that should’ve been me, but alas, I was too late and my ego blinded me from what was in front of me this whole time. 

“Thank you for meeting me here today, I was worried you wouldn’t show up. I mean considering everything”

“What do you mean by everything?” You sat there confused, did I say the wrong thing?

“Sunwoo, you were jealous. Were you not?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

“So you were jealous… Cool, I don’t need to know anything else since you clearly don’t care about me and what we went through” 

You rolled your eyes and began to get up from your seat, but I couldn’t let you go, not this time. I suddenly got the courage to reach over and gently pull your wrist back.

“Wait!” I got up and continued to hold onto your wrist as we exited the cafe. 

“I’m giving you two minutes Sunwoo so you better spill or I’m leaving” You crossed your arms as you turned your head, leaning on the exterior of the cafe.

“Just hear me out, okay? I wasn’t jealous I– I just…” My thoughts suddenly left me which put a disdained expression on your face. 

“See! You’re just proving my point Sunwoo. You were jealous. End of story, I’m leaving now” You began to turn around, heading to the end of the street before turning and walking up the hill to where you were staying.

“No! Please! Just hear me out!” I was out of breath having run up the hill, but you didn’t stop. 

There was no point. I fucked up, I couldn’t find the words to tell you how much life you added back into me. You were the light of my life and yet, I put yours out. Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore. You were my person, the person I went to for advice, the person I went to for comfort, but now I have to comfort myself. 

All those years of friendship are now over since I tossed everything to the side because I couldn’t suck up my jealousy. I never imagined myself to be the jealous type, but with you, you were different. I thought– No. I think– I don’t know. I have to find my own happiness, to find my own drive and maybe when you’re ready, we could be friends again. 

Until then, I’ll walk on my own.

#hyungseos-cafe #deoboyznet #brown sugar ube iced coffee with oat milk #the boyz #the boyz scenarios #the boyz angst #angst #the boyz sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #order status: complete

[jaeyunverse]

home

pairing: sim jake x fem!reader

genres: fluff, angst, crack, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, high school au

wc: 2k

warnings: profanity, mc has mommy issues that are mentioned very briefly. i think that’s all but lmk if you want me to add smth!!

prompt: “i don’t understand why you’re acting this way.”

note: i’m sorry the title is kinda shit i cannot come up w good + relevant ones for the life of me and google was not helping BOOO but tysm for requesting anon and i hope you like the drabble!! feedback is always appreciated; i’d love to know what everything thinks :”)

dialogue prompt event

You had been avoiding Jake Sim. 

Considering the fact that he was your best friend, the task was proving to be just as difficult as you had expected it to be. 

Maybe even more so. He was surprisingly very clingy—something you had failed to notice in your friendship of four years. 

As you turned the corner of the school library’s hallway, your eyes trained on the ground, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck.  

You tensed at the contact and took a sharp breath. 

“Where have you been today?” Jake questioned casually. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. And did you buy new clothes? I’ve never seen these before. I gotta say I like this look on you.”

Damn it. 

You’d thought wearing a brand-new outfit would make it easier for you to hide from him. You’d even gone as far as wearing a cap and letting your hair down so it could conceal your face. Your teachers had been on your ass for wearing the accessory all day long. 

Trying to fight the blush creeping up your neck, you shrugged him off as subtly as you could and put some distance between your bodies. “I’ve been around.” 

“Okay.” Jake dragged out the word. You didn’t need to glance at him to know he was frowning. “You’re coming over tonight though, right? There’s a new Riverdale episode out for us to slander. Also my mom’s making lasagne and she told me to tell you to stay over.” 

There was no way you could say no to that. Subjecting yourselves to an hour of terrible screenwriting to criticise it was basically a tradition and bonding exercise for both of you.  

Turning Jake down would instantly make him suspicious, which would lead to him asking questions. You were a lot of things, and being a terrible liar was one of them. 

Jake was a lot of things too, and being an absolute busybody was one of them. He’d push and push and push until you told him the truth. 

And you couldn’t possibly confess that you had a gigantic crush on him. 

Not only would it put your relationship in jeopardy in case he didn’t reciprocate your feelings (which you were pretty sure he didn’t), but the confirmed rejection would literally tear you apart from the inside.

You’d rather pine after him and be content with being his best friend than chase after some stupid fantasy. Unfortunately, pining sucked ass, especially when the one you wanted but couldn’t have was always hanging around you.  

So, you’d been trying to cut down on the time you spent with him, hoping that the distance would make your feelings disappear magically. So far, it was not working, but that didn’t mean you were going to give up.

“Um,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on your sneakers. “I don’t think I can come over today. I have that… thing to do.”

Real fucking convincing, Y/N, you thought to yourself dismally.

“What thing?” Jake questioned, sounding taken aback. You knew he damn well knew you had no thing to do. “And look at me while we’re talking, would you?” 

“I am looking at you,” you lied. “You just don’t see it because I’m wearing a cap.” 

You realised your mistake a second too late. 

Jake lifted the accessory from your head the moment you uttered the words. You whirled around to face him immediately, but he had already anticipated your next move. 

Right as you tried to snatch the cap again, your best friend raised his arm and held it over his head. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed and took a step closer. Standing on your tiptoes, you put a hand on Jake’s shoulder for support and reached up for your belonging. 

He simply stretched his arm higher, making it even harder for you to get your cap back. 

“Give it back!” you huffed and tugged at his wrist, unknowingly putting all your weight on him. His free arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from jumping. 

“Now you’re not moving away from me?” Jake taunted you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you couldn’t help but lean back in his hold to glance at him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he mumbled while looking down at you, your faces so close you could count his lashes and see the universe in his eyes. 

You snapped yourself out of your reverie before you could do something you’d regret. Pulling yourself out of his arms, you stumbled back and averted your gaze. “I need to go.”

Not bothering for a response, you turned on your heels and hurried away. The feeling of Jake’s eyes drilling holes into the back of your head only spurred you into increasing your speed. 

You let out a deep breath and collapsed into your usual seat upon entering the library. Your cheeks felt hot, and your heart was thumping so hard you were afraid it was going to jump out of your chest. 

You couldn’t keep this up anymore. Your feelings were starting to get out of hand, and you were beginning to lose control. 

It wouldn’t be too long until you reached your limit. 

Save for the encounter near the library, you did not run into Jake again.  

You were about to mentally congratulate yourself for getting through another day when someone grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards them. 

One moment, you were in the crowded hallway of your school  and the next, you were in an empty classroom, your best friend glowering at you. 

“You scared me!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with shock. 

“You’re scaring me,” Jake countered. “What is up with you these days? I don’t understand why you’re acting this way.” 

It took you a second to understand what he was referring to. Gulping, you dropped your gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“You think I can’t tell you’re avoiding me?” he demanded and took a step closer, causing you to take a step back in return. “You think I don’t notice something’s wrong?” 

“Everything's fine. You’re being paranoid.” 

Jake laughed humourlessly. “Don’t fuck with me, Y/N.” 

“I’m not,” you said as calmly as you could. “Trust me, nothing’s wrong.” 

For a moment, there was silence. Then, “You’re lying,” he said quietly. “You’re not looking at me.” 

Taking a deep breath, you raised your head and looked Jake in the eyes. “Everything’s fine,” you repeated. 

He searched your face. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“There is nothing to tell,” you insisted, trying desperately to convince him. 

“Is it something at home?” He pried further. “Is your mom checking your phone again? Did she take your laptop—” 

“No—” 

“I can ask my mom to talk to her, you know? I don’t like how she doesn’t trust you and keeps suffocating you all the time—” 

“Stop it, Jake!” you finally burst out. “Stop sticking your nose in my business! You’re the one suffocating me right now so just back off. I’m not obligated to tell you shit!” 

You regretted saying that the moment hurt flashed across Jake’s face. You opened your mouth to apologise, but he beat you to it. 

“You’re right,” he muttered and averted his gaze, moving away from you. “You’re not answerable to me. I’m sorry for pushing you.” 

Putting his back to you, Jake retreated to the door with slumped shoulders. You knew you had royally messed up and there was a good chance your friendship would be ruined forever if he left the classroom. 

So, you decided to bite the bullet and tell the truth. Confessing couldn’t possibly do more damage than what had already been done. 

“It’s you.” 

Jake stopped in his tracks and turned around. He looked surprised to know that it indeed was him that was the issue. “It is?” 

“Yeah,” you said, your voice cracking a bit. “There’s something I have to tell you.” 

Jake nodded. “Of course. Anything.” 

“I’m, uh—” you toyed with your hands, struggling to find the courage to confess— “I— I like you.”

“What?” he whispered, shell-shocked. 

“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m attracted to you,” you stammered. Wetting your dry lips, you forced yourself to continue, “I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position by telling you I liked you, but every time I saw you, all I could think about was what it would be like to have you want me back. I just— I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by confessing. I thought my feelings would fade if I stayed away, but that didn’t work out too well. I’m sorry.” 

Jake opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when nothing escaped. Looking away, he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a small chuckle under his breath.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. You were prepared for rejection—you were aware from the very beginning that you were going to be turned down—but you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. 

“You’re laughing,” you mumbled. “You don’t believe me.” 

“I don’t,” Jake confirmed. “Actually, no, wait. Let me rephrase that: I want to believe you, but I can’t.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you demanded and crossed your arms over your chest defensively. This situation was turning out to be much worse than you had expected. 

How could Jake just laugh at you? What about your confession had been funny? Did he think you were incapable of crushing on him? Did he think he was not good enough to be crushed on? 

“It means,” he began, sauntering towards you, “I can’t believe I wasted weeks pining over you and holding myself back from confessing only for you to have liked me back this entire time.”

Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. Your breaths started getting shallower and your legs felt like jelly. You were starting to understand what Jake meant when he said he wanted to believe you but couldn’t. 

“It means I can’t believe I gaslit myself into thinking you’d never feel even an ounce of what I felt for you,” he continued. You were standing toe to toe now, your faces but a few inches away. “It means I can’t believe I tortured myself when I could have just told you the truth and done this.”

Before you could fully comprehend what Jake was saying, his hands were cupping your face and his lips were on yours. 

You were frozen for a moment, unable to think, much less react. But then, your eyes fluttered close and you kissed him back. 

It was everything you had imagined. Scratch that, it was so much better.

Jake tasted like chocolate and his soft lips slotted into yours perfectly. He moved them slowly, as if wanting to relish the moment you were sharing. 

Grabbing the neckline of his t-shirt, you pulled him lower and tilted your neck to the side to deepen the kiss. 

Jake obliged and snaked an arm around your waist, pressing your body flush against his. Cocooned in his arms, you felt at home. 

But then, you always felt at home with him. 

Out of breath, you detached your lips from his and whispered, “Wow.” 

Jake laughed and embraced you, placing his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, I know.” 

Snuggling into his chest, you mumbled, “Now what?” 

“Now I ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You smiled and tipped your neck to glance at him. “And then?” 

“Assuming you say yes,” he mused, earning a snort from you. “I take you out on a date.” 

“And what would we do on the date?” 

Jake smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t I pick you up at seven today and you find out?” 

You grinned, feeling giddy at the prospect of going out on a date with your best friend turned boyfriend. 

“Deal” 

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[real-jane]

best kept

[bucky barnes x baker!reader]

This is for Birdie's Birthday Bash Writing Challenge!! Happy happy birthday, @buckysbirdie ❤️❤️❤️. This was such a fun way to pull myself back into the creative roll! You're a gem and you deserve to have a beautiful birthday fest.

For my prompts, I chose:🍦 Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes |🧁 Birthday Cake: Baker | 🍭 “You deserve pretty things.” | 🍑 Secretly dating | 🍓 Mutual pining

warnings: idiots in love, miscommunication, fluff, mention of sex. no body descriptions, no use of y/n.

--

She didn’t mean it the way it came out–you deserve pretty things–like a plea. She intended for the sentiment to land like an observation, based on their few-and-far-between conversations across the register, like the brew of the day is Breakfast Blend or it’s supposed to rain around three o’clock.

But damn him… he flushed. He didn’t smile, quite, but his eyes flicked away and he cleared the embarrassment from his throat, handing over a bill too large for the small black coffee and the intricately frosted cupcake which had nearly given up the whole gambit to his companions, who hung at his elbow with an urgency which could only come from a post-mission adrenaline rush. 

He was expressly forbidden from dating anyone inside the compound. He had made that abundantly clear as he fished the buttons of her baking uniform through the holes in the storage closet the day that pull between them became too much to bear. He had still kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and every moment they squirreled away thereafter was precious, but the longer they had to hide in the shadows… the harder it became to keep her tongue from whetting his plush lips where anyone could see. Especially when he picked out a cupcake he knew she had agonized over that morning, thanks to the hastily sent photo he received from the kitchen in the wee hours.

The way lavender buttercream would taste in a forbidden kiss… she ached for it. 

He did deserve pretty things. He deserved much more than that, too. But he wouldn’t let her say it. She tried, with her legs tangled in his, to tell him sincerely what he meant to her, how lucky she felt that he would even look her way–but he had shut her down with suffocating kisses and stole all coherent thought. He went another day without knowing she loved him, without her trying to make him listen to her say it.

Maybe that’s why the comment burst out. When she couldn’t say I love you, what could she say? You deserve pretty things, like the cupcake I created because all this love has no place to go, because chamomile is your favorite tea, because it’s one part of you that belongs only to me.

Bucky motioned for her to keep the generous change from his bill, and hastened to the far end of the caf to admire her work from a safe distance. She watched him walk away for only a split second, before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman with a cold brew addiction.

Just wait, his text said. The message had pinged from her back pocket while she ascertained whether or not Captain America wanted a savory scone, so she didn’t see it until he and his cohort departed from the caf. 

Clutching her phone over the stove long after the other staff headed home, she stared at the two little words from ‘Jamie.’ No punctuation to hang a hope on, ever. He wasn’t one for soft sentiments. Bucky Barnes touched her with urgency, but he didn’t speak her name with the reverence of a lover. He barely spoke at all, except to coax pleasure from her. She was starting to feel less like a choice, and more akin to a tool he used to blow off steam. It clawed at her heart, making her skin crawl with longing for just one fraction of the effort she was devoting… to a man who had never hidden that he wasn’t supposed to be fucking her. 

She couldn’t take much more of such an empty arrangement. How could someone so enmeshed with her bones leave her so devoid of affection, even in the slightest? How could she love someone who stumbled away from a tryst like he’d been stung?

He never showed up before the night shift cleaners did their rounds, but he always showed. 

Wait, she did. She jumped when cold vibranium fingers wrapped around her elbow, swiping furiously at her reddened eyes. 

“Christ,” she breathed. “You’re a fucking phantom.” She hazarded a glance at him, but his expression was hardened and unreadable. He was frozen at the sight of her persistent tears. She rolled her eyes and eased her arm out of his grip, putting the island between them. Despite the way every hair on her body stood on end in his presence, it was no use hiding the way his silence inspired more tears. She let them streak down her cheeks. When still he said nothing, anger stirred behind her ribs.

“How was your cupcake?” she whispered.

“Um. Good.” Bucky leaned against the counter and folded his arms. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. “Chamomile?”

She nodded. “Your favorite. I, um. I sifted loose leaf tea in with the flour, I wasn’t sure how it would go.”

“It was good.” 

“Good.” She gripped the butcher block countertop so hard, her fingers ached. 

Bucky let an agonizing minute pass. “You’re crying,” he muttered. “Why?”

She snorted. “Tim’s wearing his big headphones while he does the floors tonight, if you want to risk it out here–if you can stand to fuck a woman while she’s sad.”

He was intelligent, she knew it. It hadn’t taken long to see how his mind whirred to strategize around every possible obstacle to the opportunity to take her in a dark corner, and she couldn’t dismiss the way his compatriots spoke about his work on assignment, even if she only overheard snippets of their conversations in the caf. It came as no surprise, then, when he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

“You wanna be alone. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said tersely.

“No–god.” She laughed, but it stabbed. “I want you. Here. I thought I had made that abundantly clear by sticking my hand down your pants at every opportunity.”

He blinked. “You’re angry.”

“Yeah. Yes, I am. I’m–I don’t know how to say this,” she struggled. “We’re better at the not-talking part of this arrangement. But if I don’t get it out, I’m going to pop!”

Bucky, to his credit, made no move to leave, though every muscle in his body seemed to tense up with the need to flee. Instead, he braced his hands against the counter behind him and nodded for her to say whatever was on her mind. It was then that she noticed that his hair was damp; he never came to her smelling of motor oil, or blood, or sweat, or any hint of whatever duty had demanded of him during the day. It made her want to sob. He came to her clean.

She studied the way his jaw flexed anxiously, and it gave her enough comfort–knowing he was uncomfortable–to make some sort of explanation come out. 

“I’m selfish,” she started. “I thought that I could just be content sneaking around, because I’ve been clinging to every bit of affection I can get from you. It was fine for a while. More than fine, Jamie–god, I’m addicted,” she said sheepishly. “But it’s not fun anymore, it’s like I need a fix of you, or I can’t function. I hate that I can’t kiss you where people can see. I hate that you don’t say anything to make me think you want me half as much as I want you. I invented a fucking cupcake based on your kiss after a cup of tea. I–fuck.” She looked up at the ceiling to hold back a new wave of emotion.

“You never promised me anything, so I have no right demanding more from you,” she said. “So. I don’t think I can continue with my part of this arrangement, given that–well, considering that you can’t even show interest in a person without creating a coup with Human Resources–”

“Hang on,” he said softly. “What do you mean a coup?”

“You’ll get in trouble. Especially for sleeping with the cupcake woman–”

“I’m not following,” he said. Then, it dawned on him. “Doll…” Bucky chuckled. From the depths of his chest, a warm and wooly sound that brought heat to her cheeks. He smiled even as he swiped a thumb across his bottom lip.

“I see what this is,” Bucky said. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her gaze and her stomach flipped. Gone was the frown from his expression, and instead, a strange and unfamiliar lightness took its place. “You should’ve told me.”

“What?” she breathed.

Bucky pushed off the counter and walked around the island slowly, until he caged her back against the wood. The scent of his soap–sandalwood and cedar–filled her nostrils. He tipped her chin up. 

“You seem to be under the impression that I come here to get my rocks off, and not because I have a sweet tooth. And I’m kickin’ myself for not seeing it sooner. God help me, doll: when I’m around you, I lose all rational thought.”

She wound her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, a soft and well-worn thing with a faded SHIELD logo over the left pec. “Pardon my French, but those are the most words in a row I’ve heard out of your fucking mouth, maybe ever.”

“‘M a shy guy,” he said. 

“I have tried to talk to you about this for months–”

Bucky winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah! You shut me up every time! Hey–stop staring at my mouth.”

He raised an eyebrow as if to say well, go ahead. For good measure, he sat on the stool at the lip of the counter, and bracketed her between his knees. She sighed.

“I don’t know how long this can continue if it can never be more than a secret,” she admitted.

Bucky cleared his throat.“...Are you under the impression that SHIELD has a stake in my personal relationships?” 

She blinked. “You said it did.”

“When?”

“Um. The first time. In the pantry.” 

He frowned again and looked at the pantry door like it might project the exact conversation they had, amidst a feverish tryst. “I don’t think I did,” he said.

“‘They’ll grill me and everyone in the compound will know–’ You were pretty clear that nobody could know about us. You kept saying it. ‘They can’t know. They can’t know.’”

“I’m not sure I was thinking about anything but putting my head between your legs,” he said frankly, which made her shiver. “Nick Fury doesn’t care about interpersonal relationships as long as they don’t interfere with our work. The guys, however, already give me shit for how often I miss my mouth with coffee because I’m watching the cupcake woman and her damned smile. I was probably talking about them. But I don’t remember, and I’m sorry you’ve been losing sleep over it.”

“I haven’t been losing sleep,” she said bashfully, though her lip slipping into her mouth revealed what a lie that was. 

“Don’t you see how messed up I am over you?” The question came out of his mouth like a blessing. She stared at him in astonishment, which made the tips of his ears turn pink. “I may be bad at sayin’ it, doll, but I’m acting up like a lovesick man.” Bucky tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her closer. “You’ve been hurting. Haven’t you?” When she nodded, his face fell. He huffed. “That won’t do.”

“Tell me,” she asked. “Please, Jamie.”

“You really been thinkin’ about something I said in the heat of the moment… shit, a year ago?”

“Words are precious, where you’re concerned.”

Bucky looked up at her like the sentiment struck a raw nerve. He shook his head. “I’ll be better.”

“You’ve already tripled your usual output,” she teased, letting her hands slide to his jaw. “It’s no wonder you’re good at keeping secrets.”

“What would people say if they knew?”

“Stop. You’re trying to save me from compound gossip?”

He studied her well-loved shoes and the flour which adorned the toes like a deliberate style choice. “Am I a coward?”

“Yeah,” she said, but she brushed his cheek. “For the sake of clarity… SHIELD doesn’t care, but your friends will tease you, and people might gossip, so that’s why you’ve never actually taken me to your room, and why we’ve been sneaking around for the better part of a year?”

Bucky cringed. “In my defense, I thought you got off on it.”

“I did–I do. But I spend about thirteen hours a day on my feet in this damn kitchen. It would be nice to have sex horizontal for once, and not bent over the sink I wash dishes in! Maybe even laying down on a mattress, as crazy as that sounds.” 

“You wild woman, you.” He laced his fingers behind her knees. “I’m sorry. All this because I’m afraid of people thinkin’--it doesn’t matter, right?”

“Oh, you’re just now realizing that?” She swatted him on the shoulder. “We should’ve had this conversation eleven months ago!”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but he leaned into her fingers where they dug at the knot in his shoulder while he pondered where they had gone wrong. He gripped her wrist so he could entwine their fingers and study the raised veins on the back of her hand with a curious thumb. 

“I always buy whatever pastry you made special for the day,” Bucky said, as if it was a revelation he was making at that exact moment. “I tip you like Rockafeller. I can’t stand the thought of stinking in your presence, so some days I shower twice. I scan the personnel report every morning to make sure you’re on the premises. I check my phone seven hundred times an hour on the off chance you text me. I dream about you. I wake up smelling your perfume. I’m–I’m your damned satellite, woman.”

“Then why are you so worried about people knowing?” she asked it, but she gleaned the answer the moment it left her lips and she pressed her fingers to his to stop him from saying it. His lips pursed behind her hand. She shook her head. “No. You’ll break my heart.”

Bucky waited until she removed her hand before attempting to say a thing. “You don’t know what I’ve done, doll–”

“I’m sorry–you think I didn’t google you within an inch of your life, old man?”

He smiled, despite himself. “My mistake.”

“Please. I would be so proud if people knew”

“Of me?” he asked, incredulous. “Why?”

She leaned in and took the softest drag from his lips, eliciting something like a gasp of amazement from the man. “Doesn’t make a lick of sense, does it?” she murmured against his mouth.

Bucky growled. “If I could have you, I would shout it from the rooftops.”

“You like me.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He stood, looming over her hungrily. “Could I, doll?”

She would have descended into tears again if her heart wasn’t bursting with happiness. “I would love that, Jamie.”

His eyes sparkle. “People will talk.”

“Good.”

“I’ll… I’ll kiss you over the counter!” He gestured to the very counter which separated them daily. “Other people will see me do it.”

She snickered. “I hope they do.”

“Sam will tell you about every time I’ve made a fool of myself watchin’ you–”

“I can’t wait.”

“You’re not ever gonna question me again, because I’m gonna just come right out and say things. All the time.” For the first time in her memory, Bucky fully smiled. Beamed, even. His eyes were lively with excitement and he reached for her hand. He laced their fingers once more. 

“I’m going to walk outta here right now, holding your hand.” He backed slowly towards the door of the kitchen, tugging her with him. “Because I want to.”

“Okay,” she laughed. He was giddy, almost, at the prospect of getting to tell anyone who would listen that he was with her. Being seen together was a dream he didn’t know was within reach. It made her heart clench. 

“Wait–” She held up a finger and released him so she could dash back into the pantry. When she emerged from the kitchen with the little pastry box in hand, Bucky raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Saved a cupcake for my personal pity party,” she said. “I blew through three dozen of these before noon.”

“Hmm… my cupcake is a best-seller, huh?” Bucky tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow so he could draw her closer.

“Um. Every pastry I make is yours.” When he couldn’t speak in shock, she nodded. “You’re sort of my muse.”

“You’re jokin’.”

“God, it’s embarrassing–”

“No, no, no! It’s the sweetest thing I ever heard, doll, I promise you.” Bucky stopped in the vestibule where the hallway forked west to the parking garage (where her car was parked), and east to the residential wing of the compound. 

“Well.” She shrugged. “I take how you’re making me feel, and I say it in flour and sugar. Everything I couldn’t tell you got baked into pastry. They all have names, too, but I’m not quite ready to mortify myself by admitting some of them.”

He cupped her cheek. “What’d you call it today?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake.’” She braced herself for him to cringe, but he didn't.

Bucky looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I am an idiot. Never let me forget it.” He turned on his heel and hastened down the east hall. She had to practically skip to keep up. 

“Do you hate it?” she panted.

“What–no!” He punched the up arrow to summon the elevator. “I love it.”

“I love you.” The sentiment flew from her tongue like it had been waiting for that very moment to spread its wings.

The elevator dinged to punctuate her admission, effectively squashing an otherwise perfect moment… made awkward by Sam Wilson on his way back from the gym, standing in the elevator and grinning. Bucky glanced between Sam and the woman who just admitted to loving him, and pulled her into the car.

“Sam,” Bucky acknowledged. “You remember–”

“The way you poured dark roast in your lap when she laughed? Sure do. Hi. How are you?”

“She loves me,” Bucky said. She nudged his ribcage. “What? You do. I’m in love with her, also.”

“I’ve gleaned that prior to now,” Sam said smugly.

Her cheeks were hot, but she leaned into Bucky’s side in disbelief. “Hi Sam. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. While we’re all sharing our feelings, he’s one of the best people I know, so. As far as I’m concerned, this is a fantastic development. Which I’m suspecting isn’t a new one.” Sam smirked as Bucky scratched his head guiltily. 

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

“Whatcha got there?” Sam pointed at the little box in her hand.

“That’s ‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake,’” Bucky explained proudly. 

She squeezed his elbow. “It’s chamomile with lavender buttercream.”

“Oh shit, the magic cupcake! He force-fed us all a bite at lunch. Five stars.”

“Thanks.” She shared a smile with Sam. The elevator arrived on Bucky’s desired floor. Sam said little else, but offered a sly salute to the retreating form of his giddy best friend and the woman he couldn’t stop talking about.

At Bucky’s door, he paused. “I didn’t–is this okay? Do you want to come in? You can use my on-suite shower. Water pressure is amazing. I have a very comfortable bed–”

She pressed up on her toes and kissed him quiet. “You love me,” she murmured, “so I’d like to go in.”

“I’m making a fool of myself right now, aren’t I,” he breathed.

“Nah. You’re just… chatty.”

“I don’t think I can stop.”

“It’s okay. 'S pretty cute.”

He smiled dreamily. “Cute is good. I can work with that.” He let them into the room, but the moment the door shut behind her, he tensed up again. “Um. This is it. I don’t have much.”

“Jamie,” she soothed. “I’m so happy to be here, but I’m exhausted. I’ll take you up on that shower, and we can talk more in the morning. Yeah?”

“Oh–of course, doll, there’s towels…” He babbled on, but she temporarily ignored him in favor of unwrapping the little box on his desk. She grabbed him mid-sentence by the front of the sweatshirt. Something had to be done to dissipate his adrenaline, which was hammering away full-throttle to force every little thought which crossed his brain to traverse his tongue, too.

“C’mere.” She held up the small cupcake and offered him the first bite. His lips grazed her thumb and forefinger, but her own chased them to capture the sugar of a kiss. He groaned into the flowery sweetness. She giggled when he dipped the tip of his finger into the frosting, only to drag it over her cupid’s bow. Warmth pooled between her thighs as he licked the purple sugar from her skin.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I’m. I–doll.”

She laughed. “That, James Barnes, is what you taste like after a cup of tea.”

“If I wasn’t already… I am, now.” He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, drunk on sugar and arousal.

“What?”

“In love.”

He said nothing else. Every sentiment which she inspired in him paled in comparison to the feeling of her. The alphabet of her body was language enough to describe the utter terror of exposing every chamber of his heart, and still come up short for the measure of awe. And as for her… 

She had kept him locked away in a neighboring vein for so long, that letting the flow of Bucky Barnes through her senses overwhelmed her with the knowledge that yes, she loved him… and yet loved him more as he exposed his vulnerabilities–like his 3-in-1 shower gel, and his pleasant striped pajama pants with frayed cuffs. He would be best kept at her side, of that much she was sure. Not a dirty secret in the pantry, but softly snoring against her shoulder, with no question of whether or not he wanted her, and an abundance of pretty things… many of which came frosted.

--

Thanks for reading! :)

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[seal-writes-stuff]

Boyfriend

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: swearing, fighting, alcohol consumption, a brief mention of cults, Christian Hughes (derogatory)

Summary: Turns out things can escalate pretty quickly when it’s just you, your best friend’s asshole boyfriend and a party that you really, really didn’t want to attend.

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve noticed that I keep subtly dunking on Christian in my fics, so I decided to change things up for once. Time to dunk on him full-force. Hope you enjoy!

“Look, I mean no disrespect and all that,” you sink deeper into the couch. “I just don’t trust these people. End of.”

Dani, who’s sitting right next to you, tilts her head. There’s no judgment in her eyes, just a mischievous sparkle that enables you to continue.

“What, not even Pelle?”

“Especially Pelle, Dani. Nobody’s that nice.”

“Pelle’s that nice.”

“Cult leaders are that nice!” you see the surprised look she gives you and quickly catch yourself. “Well, maybe not cult leaders… I don’t know, I’m getting vibes off of him, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Ri-i-ight. And Mark is…”

“Mark.”

“Yeah, fair enough. What about Josh, though?”

“Josh…” you rub your chin, mulling it over. “Alright, you’ve got me, Josh is okay. But why does he hang out with the rest of them, then? Something’s not right.”

“Maybe you just don’t like anybody.”

“I like you.”

Dani looks away with a smile while you pretend to be extremely interested in the carpet. She’s your best friend, you remind yourself, and she’s taken. Don’t do stupid shit.

“Why are you the one convincing me to go anyway? I thought you hated parties.”

Dani shrugs. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, a sadness which breaks your heart.

“Well, Christian’s excited. I know you don’t like him very much, but…”

Well… That’s one way to put it. To be more specific, you hate Christian’s guts and the feeling, from what you could gather, is quite mutual. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying things you’ll regret later, though. For Dani’s sake, of course – not his, never his. You’d gladly keep your opinions to yourself if it meant her happiness.

Happiness, that is.

“Oh, Christian’s awesome.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“What gives?” you laugh as Dani taps your arm playfully, pretending to punch you. “Okay, seriously though: if you guys love each other, that’s all that matters. Who cares what I think, really?”

“Yeah, you’re right…” she mumbles. She then realizes what she’s just said and blushes. “Wait, I-I didn’t mean it like that. I care what you think, I just-”

“I know! I’m just joking around, relax,” you brush her shoulder with yours, smiling. “No hard feelings, I promise.”

“Oh, okay… Okay, great.”

For a brief moment, Dani looks down, pink still dusting her cheeks. That look on her face, that sweet smile on her lips make you speak before you can talk yourself out of the idea.

“Alright, you know what, I’m in. Let’s go together. If you’ll want to escape, just blink twice or something.”

“Thank you!” Dani throws her hand around you. “You’re the best, you know?”

“I’m trying,” your words are quiet as you hug her back, feeling the subtle scent of her shampoo.

This might be fun, right?

***

Well, who could’ve guessed. This party fucking sucks.

You stare at the kitchen floor, swirling what’s left of your drink in a red plastic cup. Dani’s catching up with some of her other friends while you’re stuck in the sad and inevitable “I should’ve stayed home” phase of any gathering you’ve ever attended.

You can’t blame her, though. You know she would’ve stayed by your side the whole evening if you asked her to, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t, too; she deserves to relax and enjoy herself. Can’t expect her to cater to your every need.

After some quiet contemplation you finally decide that enough is enough. You’ll check on Dani to see if she wants to leave, make up some excuse for the host and then dip. No, first you’ll need to call an Uber – you’re leaving either way, so better to take care of that in advance. Or maybe you should first-

“Y/N.”

You look up, only to be met with none other than Christian Hughes himself lingering in the doorway. The whole evening – just like any other evening, you suspect - he seemed like he desperately wanted to be somewhere else. You’ve never known if it was a result of your presence or his general attitude about life. Honestly, you couldn’t care less either way.

Right now, however, Christians’s not bored. Right now, he wears some kind of a strange blank expression you’ve never seen before.

Oh, to hell with that. He can’t expect people to walk on eggshells and guess his every mood.

“Christian,” you nod, pushing yourself away from the counter. “I’d love to chat, but-”

Before you can finish, Christian blocks the exit, standing right between you and the door. There’s some dumb defiance in his eyes, like’s about to cause trouble and is well-aware of that.

Except you’re not in the mood. You’re tired, you’re irritated and you’re a bit drunk – just enough to lose some of your inhibitions. The only thing you can offer him right now is annoyance.

“Oh, come on.”

“Why are you like this?”

You stare at Christian for a moment, wondering if he’s worth the fight he’s so desperate to start for some reason. You know in your mind that he isn’t. The hardest part is to convince yourself of that.

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Look, whatever problem you have with me, it’s not-”

You sigh, exasperated.

“I have no problem with you. Now, could you please-”

“I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out.”

“Dude.”

“It’s because of Dani, isn’t it?”

You feel a wave of all-consuming rage rising deep in your chest. As if every ounce of your suppressed anger, years worth of it, resurfaced to escape your body and strike Christian right in his stupid head. But just a moment later, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to be calm and collected.

After all, you need a clear head to really kick his ass.

“M-m-m...” you look away and bite your lower lip. “Speaking of Dani, what was she talking about in the living room, do you remember?”

This catches Christian off-guard. He blinks at you - you can almost hear the gears turning in his head.

“Wh… No?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird? I mean, it happened, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Why does it matter? I’m not-”

“It does matter, Christian, because Dani finally got done with the shittier part of her thesis. Now she’s doing the stuff she actually loves.”

“She-”

“So she was excited and wanted to share with you. You know, because she loves you? And you were too busy being vaguely annoyed, or whatever the fuck, I don’t even know. But hey, at least your buddies must think you’re really cool, huh?”

“I… You’re fucking crazy.”

“I'm fucking cra- Okay, you know what, I'm not even entertaining that. You know I’m right, so you say this shit to feel better about yourself. Cause God forbid you’re wrong for once, right?”

It seems like you’ve hit a nerve. Christian huffs through his nose; his face flushes as you bite back a smirk. You’re past holding back, past feeling bad at all. He started it, and you sure as hell will finish it.

“You know nothing about our relationship.”

“Well, you know nothing about your girlfriend! It’s shocking, really, gets me every time. She always tries to talk things through with you, tries to include you in everything, buys you these … What are they called, these fucking cookies you like every time she goes to the grocery store. Every time! Simply because she cares. So tell me, does she always get that face on your face in response? That’s something I don’t know.”

Shit, what are you even saying? ‘Face on your face’?

“What does it have to do with-”

“Jesus Christ… Okay, third time’s the charm. You treat my best friend like shit. I don’t know why. I honestly don’t care why either. So yeah, I don’t like you, I don’t respect you and the sooner you leave her life the better.”

“Leave? Please. Like anyone would treat her better. You don’t know how much I-”

“Exactly, anyone would treat her better! I would treat her better!” you shake your drink for emphasis. “This fucking solo cup would treat her better! Do you even hear yourself?”

Christian opens his mouth for another retort, but stops before it can come out. His eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, so you would treat her better.”

“Are you really gonna dismiss everything I’ve said-”

“So that’s why.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Do you really think-”

“Hughes, if you don’t move out of my way right this fucking second-”

“Guys?”

Both of you fall silent. Christian turns back while you stare over his shoulder in horror.

Dani.

Christian says something in that faux-friendly voice of his while you’re frozen, unable to make a sound. You don’t know why, you don’t know how, but you’re so terrified that you can barely breathe.

How much did she hear?

“I’ve gotta go.”

Panicking, you finally manage to push past Christian and run out of the room, leaving both of them behind. You’re pretty sure you’re choking on tears by that point, Dani’s calling out to you, and all of this is so, so-

Focus. All you need to do right now is leave, now.

***

It’s been two weeks. Two longest weeks of your life, you might say.

You’re curled up on the couch, trying to watch a movie but failing miserably. None of that matters, you think. You’re alone and Dani’s with Christian. Hell, he’s probably having a field day right now: gloating, calling you stupid, crazy, jealous and a million other things you don’t even want to imagine. Guilt-tripping her for something you did. For something he did too, no less.

Son of a bitch.

The worst part, however, is that he wouldn’t even be that wrong. It was stupid to give in. It was crazy to think that it would change something, that it would help Dani somehow. At the end of the day, what did it accomplish? Losing a friend over a petty fight?

And you have to be honest with yourself: you are jealous. You were, you are and you probably will be. This must be the most awful way to finally realize that you’re in love, truly in love, yet you have to deal with it. You’d let go off this jealousy, though, you’d leave it behind in a heartbeat – if she wasn’t with someone who made her miserable every day. If…

You force yourself to stop this thought spiral. It’s all over, the damage is done and there’s nothing you can do about it anymore. It is what it is.

You start to sniffle when you’re started by the knock at your door. Must be the pizza you’ve ordered, you think. Your life’s falling apart anyways, may as well treat yourself. With a sigh, you drag yourself to the door.

“Hi, do you accept ca-”

The rest of the sentence dies on your lips. Dani’s standing at your door, sweet as ever.

Just very, very tired.

“Hey there. Um… I’ve made some cookies, so…”

“Oh,” you rub the back of your neck, trying not to cry. “Thank you. I-I appreciate it.”

Dani nods, pinching her lips. She fidgets with the hem of her hoodie for a few seconds, looking down.

“Are you… Waiting for someone? I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, no. I mean, just the delivery guy. Come in, please.”

Just a moment later you’re on the couch again. The same couch you were on when you’ve decided to go to this godforsaken party. The irony.

You contemplate whether you should offer Dani something to drink, but decide against it. There’s no reason to dance around the issue – it’s what created this whole mess in the first place. You need to be open, you think, you need to be honest.

She deserves that much.

“God, Dani, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t-”

“No, it’s not okay. I’ve made a scene, ran off and then flaked on you. That wasn’t right and… I really regret it.”

This isn’t a lie. You don’t regret what you’ve said – honestly, you’d say it all again. But everything that came with it, the way you spoke on Dani’s behalf…

Yeah. ‘Could’ve handled it better’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.

When you gather the courage to look at Dani again, you see her soft smile. She forgives you. Of course she forgives you, the way she always does. She forgave you before she even entered this room.

“No, that’s fine. Really. I’m not upset,” Dani takes your hand, squeezing it. “I was just worried about you, that’s all.”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“You’re very kind, you know that?”

Dani moves closer to you, putting her head on your shoulder. You close your eyes, your temple pressed to the top of her head.

“How’s Christian, by the way?”

Dani tenses; you feel her calm breathing hitches. Instant regret washes over you, but she replies before you can do anything about it.

“Oh, he’s- I don’t know actually. We broke up a few days ago.”

For a split second, you freeze. Did you hear that right? Are you dreaming?

“Holy shit, I’m sorry,” despite everything that happened, your words are sincere. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t know, really,” she shrugs, biting her lower lip. “Still processing, I guess.”

“That’s okay. Look, Dani, you-you don’t have to answer, of course, but…

“But..?”

“Can I ask why?”

Dani lowers her head with a bitter chuckle – something you’ve never seen her do before. You don’t say anything, rubbing her back in gentle motions. Does she feel the same warmth when you touch her?

You hope so.

“What was the final straw?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, that.”

“Well, Christian kept saying things about you… Whatever, I don’t want to repeat it.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Fair enough, I guess.”

“No! No, that’s-”

“I mean, I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine to him either, so...” you shrug. “And what, that really was-”

“It should’ve been, but no. I… I can’t believe I’ve let him-”

“Hey, hey, Dani, look at me. He’s an adult. He wanted to talk shit, so he did. That’s on him.”

“But I-”

“And besides, we got into a fight. You did nothing wrong, I promise.”

Dani nods in response, still deep in thought. You know that no matter what you say, some part of her still blames herself for how things played out – maybe always will. You know you can’t change that. Because that’s how Dani is, that’s who she is at her core – reflective, responsible, kind.

You’d never want her to change. You just wish that you could make her life easier.

“Thing is,” she continues. “I-I’ve missed you. And I’ve never missed him the way I missed you.”

You swallow, trying to stop the tears threatening to come out. Despite your best efforts, though, your voice still cracks.

“Oh… Thanks. That’s…” you sniffle. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Really?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you pull her in a hug – and Dani reciprocates. Of course she reciprocates.

Like she always does.

You don’t know what will happen next, you don’t know what the future holds. All you know is that it will be better than the past.

And for now, it’s more than enough.

#dani ardor #dani ardor x reader #dani ardor imagine #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #midsommar #seal writes

[lambkiin]

Late Nights at the Diner

Roach (Trailer Park of Terror) x AFAB!Reader

Tags; Roach 😳, quickie, two uses of degrading name calling, mutual masturbation, p in v sex, in the back of a car, a few minor timeskips because I’m insane

I will fix the “read more” formatting when I have access to a PC.

AN: First attempt at writing a fic for Roach, I think it turned out fairly well. If some sentences look weird I powered through writing this with a awful crick in my neck, have mercy. Enjoy and have fun!

I’ll also mention that the character and I are both from the deep south, so the dialogue won’t always make a whole lotta sense sound wise unless you’re aware of all the different ways we pronounce “you” down here.

Dawn was drawing close, it was nearly 3:30am. You parked your Mustang near the front door of the joint, climbing out and shutting the door with a metallic click. Sighing softly, you checked the pockets of your stained work apron. You looked around at your surroundings after locating your cash, checking out all the vehicles in the lot.

One car in particular caught your eye, it…was certainly something along the lines of junker. There was a skull and crossbones spray-painted to the side, as well as some words you couldn’t exactly make out in the dark. “Promisin’ crowd…” You muttered, sluggishly making your way to the entrance.

You were somewhat of a regular here, being thrown an excited wave by the waitress, Fiona. Knowing by now you could sit where you pleased, you returned her wave and went to sit at your usual spot- well, this isn’t going as planned. Speechless, you were completely frozen, your shocked eyes locked onto the man before you.

He sat with an arm thrown over the booth, and a cig hanging from his lips. He was also aware of his surroundings, you wanted to pass out as he turned his head towards you.

“Need somethin’ darlin’?” He quirked a brow, subtle smirk pulling onto his face. Geez, for a man who looks like he’d just changed the oil in a car…he was- very attractive. You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it. “M’ I in yer spot? Sorry ‘bout that. Why don’cha join me? I don’t bite.” He gave you a toothy grin, gesturing to the booth across from himself.

It was something about the way he spoke to you that just went straight down- oh shut up. You don’t even know his name! Fuck it, you’ve got nothing to lose. You gave him a small smile, sliding into the booth he’d offered.

“Thank you, er…?” You tilted your head up to the man, taking in his features proper.

“Names Roach, no it’s not a nickname either.” He put out his cigarette in the tables ashtray, having noticed your nostril twitching.

“Roach, I like it…rolls off the tongue.” You grinned, genuinely finding charm in the mans off the wall name.

“Ya gonna tell me yer name? Or am I jus’ gonna have’ta call ya beautiful all night?” He was far too good at these lines, it was doing its job in making you blush. You let out an embarrassed cough, composing yourself.

“Y/n, do ya do this with everyone at the diner?” You snorted, leaning towards him with your chin resting against your palm.

“Don’ think any of them truckers are as pretty as you, hm? I’ll blame it on luck I ran into ya tonight.” His eyes drifted to the side, then back to you. “Ready to order?”

~

Somehow it hadn’t been long between your arrival and his, you ordered together. You were now finishing up your coke, picking up one of the remaining fries to eat.

Fiona walked over once again. “One ticket or two?” She asked, unsure if you had been meeting him here or if it was chance. Roach spoke up right before you could, that award-winnin’ grin spread across his face.

“Just one, thank ya.” Fiona nodded in response, walking away to get the ticket squared away. Roach pulled out his wallet, ready to pay for the meal.

“You don’t have to do that, let me pay my part.” Your brows turned upwards, reaching for your folded stack of tips.

“My mama taught me better’n that, darlin’. Hell, ya could get any man to pay yer way with looks like that.” He sent you a wink. Lord almighty, you weren’t usually one for a quick fuck- but maybe you’ll indulge. Fiona brought your one ticket, accepting the cash from Roach. She turned to you, offering another wave of goodbye.

~

You and Roach stepped out into the cool nights air together, stopping for a moment while he lit up another cigarette. “Which one is yours? Vehicles- I mean.” You asked, watching as he took a deep drag off the cig.

“Mine? Oh- that one there…towards the side.” Of course the one from earlier was his, it matched him far too well.

“I suppose everything about ya is eye-catching, huh? Doin’ anything after this?” You boldly asked, one and obvious intention in mind, it was 4am. Roach nearly choked on smoke, eyes darting towards you and as wide as dinner plates. He regained his cool just as fast as he’d lost it, ready to throw down more of his smooth-talker lines.

“What for? Wanna see the interior?” He smirked, letting his cigarette hang from his mouth like it had been a half hour ago.

“Somethin’ like that. God, you look so good like that.” You muttered without even thinking, drawing closer to him for warmth in the wind.

“Well come on over then, darlin’.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked you towards his car. You’d just realized how tall he was, at least a foot taller than yourself, you fit so wonderfully into his side. It didn’t take too long to reach the edge of the parking lot, taking in the somewhat endearing sight of his beater. “The grand tour…” His arm left your shoulders, pulling the back door open. He gestured for you to get in, taking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out on the gravel.

You slid into the back seat, kicking a few bottles as you did so. The interior was in shockingly good condition for what the outside looked like. Roach followed in after you, shutting the door behind himself. “This what ya wanted, baby? Takin’ ol’ Roach in the back of ‘is Buick like a whore?” The car was perfect for you, but he looked just a bit too tall for it.

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You turned towards him, crawling forward. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pushed him against the same door he’d just closed. “Bet you’ll be the whore beggin’ fer more when I’m done with ya.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his very much exposed neck.

“Bold claim, darlin’, but I like yer enthusiasm.” He complied as you pulled his unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders, grabbing and prodding at his arms along the way.

“Oh you’ll see, sweetheart.” You whispered quietly to him, taking his jaw into your hand. You tilted his head back, your glossed lips pressing into his rougher ones. Roach hummed into the kiss feeling your other hand tugging at his tank top. He removed his arms from the holes, breaking the kiss so you could pull it completely off of him.

“Angels above…” You muttered to yourself, taking in just how beautiful his body was. You moved your head down, leaving faint kisses from his jaw to his chest. “You are just…somethin’ else.” The compliments came so easily when it came down to it, you were absolutely letting yourself fall in love with this smooth-talking stranger. Your hands brushed over his ribs, sides, his softer torso…committing every bit of it to memory.

Roach was becoming putty in your hands, he’d expected you to get straight to business. He didn’t know what to say to all this seemingly genuine affection he was receiving. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that ta butter me up.” He chuckled, pushing a stray hair from your eyes. He was bricked into oblivion with the gentleness, and the situation all together.

You brought your head back up to eye level with him, cupping his cheeks and staring for but a moment. “I’m not ‘jus’ sayin’’ it, I mean it. Ya may as well be the mos’ gorgeous man I ever did lay eyes on.” You raked your hands through his sandy brown mullet, going in to steal another one of his gentle kisses. “Do you still want this?”

“More than ever, darlin’. How could I deny ya anythin’ with how sweet yer bein’ to me.” He showed off that toothy grin again, making your heart flutter.

You reached down, undoing the silver buckle at his hips. Surprised at this point he hadn’t asked you to remove your own clothing, he seemed to be entirely distracted by your face. The expression on his face was damn near lovesick, suppose he was letting himself get invested just like you were.

After successfully getting his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, you tugged them down a bit bringing his undergarments with. Your face reddened upon catching a glimpse of his hardened cock, not having expected it look that…fulfilling.

“Damn, pretty boy. Like I said before, everythin’ about ya is eyecatchin’ as can be.” You untied your apron, grabbing it and the hem of your dress to pull it all off. Thankfully it was a day you’d chosen not to wear one of those horrifically uncomfortable things called a bra. You watched with a small giggle as Roach’s eyes dropped to your now exposed chest.

“Ain’t tha’ somethin’….shiyt.” That was probably the most emphasis you’d ever heard anyone use on the word shit, he was awestruck- thats for sure. You lifted up one leg at a time, figuring out the least awkward way to remove your own undergarments. “You are right beautiful yerself, darlin’. I ain’t seen nothin’ like ya before, and I’m hopin’ ta see ya again…” He admitted, reaching out to touch on your hips and thighs.

“See me again? Of course, sweetheart.” You settled between his legs, your own draped over his thighs. “Give me….jus’ a second.” The angle would be somewhat awkward if you didn’t do this part yourself, may as well give the man a show out of this. As much as he’s already getting.

He watched your lowers with wide eyes as your own hand trailed to it. “Oh, mama.” He whined, his cock twitching with anticipation.

You ran a few quick strokes over your clit, reaching back further to push two of your own fingers into your entrance. Your face contorted with desperation as you stretched yourself open, fingers slipping in and out.

Roach huffed a breath, reaching for his strained hardness and grabbing at the tip. “Ya just know exactly what yer doin’, don’cha?” He chuckled, that noise turning into a soft moan as he dragged his hand down his length.

You continued for a moment longer, removing your hand and looking up. Roach met your gaze, he’d stroked himself at the same pace you’d been working. “You…ready?” You asked breathlessly, receiving a quick and violent nod in response. “Alright…”

One hand met his shoulder for stability, the other was grabbed by him. “Not gonna let this go ta waste, right?” He brought your fingers towards his face, the same ones you’d just used on yourself. Your face darkened by shades as he took those two fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the underside of them. You could feel the furnace inside yourself well up again, the hand on his shoulder moving to line him up with your entrance.

The moan Roach let out was guttural, the depth vibrating the fingers he still had in his mouth. You removed them, planting the hand over his chest. You sank down onto him slowly, really just making sure the preparation was good enough. Low and behold, that- along with the ocean down there was plenty enough. “You have been far too good to me tonight, darlin’.” He whined, resting his grip comfortably on your hips.

“It’s the sweet talk, and those devilish- good looks.” You stumbled over your words, his cock finally bottoming out inside you. “Oh, Roach. Fuck-“ You moaned out, raising yourself up again and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby- you feel s’good.” His large hands clung to your hips, not quite bruising but not gentle either. “D’ya need help?” He asked, feeling your legs shake against him.

“Maybe, christ.” You tried to continue the pace yourself, the sensation of Roach joining in the efforts reaching your core. “Oh god.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss.

Your bodies moved in succession, all you could hear was his loud moans, your own, and the cars suspension squeaking away. “Y- Yer fuckin’ me so good, doll- ain’t never felt nothin’ like this.” He held you comfortingly close as the pace got sloppier and sloppier.

You buried your hand into his hair, tugging at it ever-so-slightly. “Roach…sweetheart- m’gonna…oh fuck.” A curse cut off your words, you ground down on him as well as you could. “M’gonna cum…” You muttered into the crook of his neck.

“M’too doll, feels so fuckin’ good.” His head leaned back into the window, heavy breaths and whimpers escaping his throat. “Jus’ a little longer-“ He near pleaded, still thrusting his hips in tandem with yours.

Your moans got more frantic as he reached deeper and deeper within you, that feeling in your stomach coiling up.

“Faster! Faster-“ You breathed out, feeling him speed up beneath you. “Fuck!” He could feel the building coil himself.

“S’it okay if I- cum-“ He was having trouble with his words, you knew what he was talking about.

“Yes, yes- cum inside me, sweetheart.” You were on the pill, you wanted that intimacy with him. As soon as you’d said it, his pace picked up furiously. “OH baby-“

You both moaned out loudly as he thrusted one last time, your orgasm hit you like a bag of rocks. You could feel the warmth of his own orgasm seeping inside of you. There was a moment of silence as you both rode out your endings, heavy breaths being the only noise.

You rested your forehead against his, making eye contact as your bodies shuddered in ecstasy.

“Think’m in love with ya, doll.” He muttered, squeezing your hips. His face was flushed, and he looked as beautiful as always.

“Me too, sweetheart. Y’got a landline number? An address?” You asked, leaning your body fully against his.

”I got an address, got somethin’ to write it down?”

“Oh I’ll remember.”

“Good memory, huh. I like that in’a person.”

#roach x reader #roach trailer park of terror #trailer park of terror #roach smut #technically slasher #he’s not a satan pawn yet in this fic though #don’t be shy #watch the movie #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader

[chocolate-teapots]

Couples Therapy: Jung Hoseok

                                   ●╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮●

                               Who knew that couples therapy could get 

                                                      so personal?

                                  ●╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯●

Warnings: kind of smutty, swearing, mentions of domestic abuse, psychological abuse, unprofessional medical advise, ray of sunshine hoseok, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, fantasizing.

"Y/N? Your 2 o'clock just walked in."

I threw myself around in my chair almost falling off at my receptionist, collecting myself and my notebook and readjusting myself as I stuttered around. Things were hanging out, hairs were pointing anything but south and I wasn't just talking about the ones on my head.

"Great! Uh, send them right in Joyce."

There was a crash that made her jump and evacuate my office. I was the one who really needed the therapy today that was of course if I could successfully land myself in a relationship first.

I was officially 20 minutes late for work this morning, not even having enough time to shower or be a functioning adult. Luckily my natural stress that would be building up around this time woke my body up like clockwork, meaning I had only missed oh around 3 appointments! I rescheduled the two with shaky hands and nudged one forward to now but that didn't mean that I was any more prepared than I would've been.

I was pretty sure I wasn't even wearing a bra! How unprofessional...If only my professors could see me now- or not that would be weird. Let's hope the room doesn't get cold anytime soon.

A knock made my hands fumble around even more for a pen. I had my notebook, some papers to make a new client file but no god damn pen. I was on my hands and knees, carpet scratching awfully against my nails as I pawed the ground for some ink. Any ink.

"Come in!"

Where the hell did I put the one I literally just had? Literally, a squid would do.

"Hey there, take a seat I won't be a moment,"

Where's that fucking pen?!

"Excuse me Dr?"

I grimaced, sticking my head out above my desk in a blotchy cluster.

"Yes?"

"Your pen- well- it's behind your ear," the handsome man on the sofa points towards my bird's nest and surely enough the pen mocking me tucked on my ear.

Well god damn.

"Thank you. Now enough weirdness for today, I apologise for having to bring forward your appointment uh there was an emergency," I laughed uncomfortably under my breath at my little lie, you fucking low life this is what you've become after years of studying the same shit over and over?

Emergency = too many gins last night.

 When I finally got the chance to gather all the loose bits of myself that ran away, I finally noticed the rather odd couple sat on my sofa. If you could call them a couple at all. They were hot sure but there was no chemistry, nothing between them that could pull them together again just dead air and Prada.

It felt like the worst arranged marriage prank ever.  She was stunning but very needy and traditional. He was outstandingly handsome, too charming to believe and a free spirit, warm but distant, chill, needed his own space sometimes.

"I'm Dr Y/N I'll be taking your appointments from today and into the foreseeable future after your transfer request from Dr Rosen. I have a bit of paperwork for you but it shouldn't take too long so I want to just jump straight in. What's going on?"

They awkwardly gestured for each other to start like a high school presentation. I smiled warmly as the woman leaned forward slightly wishing the other had the chance to talk just to match a voice or even a name to that face...

"We've been married now for almost a year and things aren't... working out. I need to be loved and feel wanted as a wife should. As... amazing as Hoseok was- is- he's just too calm and like he doesn't care anymore," her pink lips began to spit toward the end of her speech, resenting the qualities of her husband that she never had and almost envying them.

What is going on here?

"And Hoseok? Do you agree that you are unable to fulfil the emotional needs of your wife?"

His tired eyes search for the right words to say, his relaxed position on the sofa reflected his free-spiritedness. He ran his hands through his hair and swallowed, knowing exactly what he was doing. I began to sweat in my already sweaty skirt.

"Well, I-"

"Oh, he agrees all the same! As a woman, I'm sure you understand Dr but my husband he's not trying anymore and I feel alone in my own marriage. Do you understand?" her wicked eyes find sympathy in my own but my heart is screaming at the woman ripping me out from the inside.

I smell something beginning with 'b' and it wasn't beef.

"Well you know Mrs Jung moments where we start to question our partner's character can also be moments of insecurity for us. We're not actually dissatisfied with the attention we're not receiving and we're just in our own heads that's all."

Many times in that appointment I tried to hear his voice if even to know what he sounded like at this point but like a bad translator, his beloved wife jumped in every time, censoring his words like she had something to hide. Her long nails irritably dug into the leather tapping and patting as I scribbled down 'crazy fucking bitch' in my notes. The noise itself made her transfer her impatience to me- the most patient god damn person in this god damn universe alright?

"I think that's enough for today."

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The randomized couple made another appearance later that week this time with the crack on the iced lake that was their marriage getting longer and stronger.

"Great to see you both again! Have you tried revisiting the old memories as I recommended?"

I seemed to have triggered something as she scoffed, scrambling towards the other side of the sofa even though she was already on the fucking edge. He was relaxed but miserable with a few more lines under his dark eyes.

"We tried Dr but Hoseok had to cancel last minute because he had dance practice with his band," she mocked bitterly, sounding double her age but acting like a child.

It was so obvious what was going on here, it was screaming at me.

Knowing he wouldn't contribute I asked: "Hoseok, is your job a reoccurring subject of strain on your relationship?"

His heart-shaped lips suck in a handful of air sharply, finally aching to talk, desperate and I wanted to hear him with open arms. Come on, just a little more-

"Well, I-"

An obnoxiously loud ringtone cut him off and his wife embarrassed answered it without hesitation in the middle of the appointment. I glanced to Hoseok in slight sarcastic disbelief before remembering she's still his wife by choice like it or not. Fuck. I've fucked it all up. He laughs rubbing his forehead with his perfectly structured hands.

"Right now? I mean I'm in an appointment but I can- sure."

His dark, mysterious gaze caught my admiring and he lifted his eyebrows smugly with fascination. Shit. I turned away to the very interesting conversation happening that I was being paid for.

"Okay, I gotta go. See you soon," she hangs up with a sigh telling me how she didn't even want to be here in the first place.

"Dr, I'm so sorry but something has come up. I gotta go like right now..." she apologises half sincerely and I show her how sad I am she's leaving... half sincerely.

"Hoseok," she snaps lowly at him as he doesn't get up from the sofa at the same time as she did, as usual, glaring at him to follow like a dog.

He continues to stare at me and it's one of those stares where I know he's staring and I pretend I don't know but he knows I know and he doesn't even care. He shamelessly devours me from that sofa and ignores his wife who he came with to this appointment.

"Actually I need Hoseok's signature for a couple of things. Do you mind if he stays behind? No extra charge," I look up at the woman who looks between us as if it was a tennis match.

I was trying to swat the tension away like it was a pesky fly but I swear I only wanted to see him finally be able to get to the bottom of this without the shrieking wench.

"I can't see that being a problem. I'll see you when I get home," she mutters to her husband who waved her off lazily.

The door shut and he let out a breath I didn't even know he was holding.

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He stretches his neck, every stretch making the buttons of his shirt cling on for dear life.

"Hoseok, if I can I'm gonna be frank here. I apologise."

I swallow, readjusting so many times that it only made my rising skirt worse and everything that wasn't my bare skin more frustrating. Wedgie.

"Go ahead," his long fingers tangle in his hair giving himself a sensual scalp massage on my couch to someone who isn't his wife.

"How long have you known that your wife is emotionally abusive?"

His honest skin loses its glow and he seems to sink into the sofa, losing the extra height that his little flirting game gave him. It was very common for people in unsuccessful relationships to take any opportunity they can to forget so I wasn't taking it too personally but the other voice down there was saying otherwise.

"My friends have known the day I started missing practice and I've known since...our honeymoon."

A year of suffering in silence? His voice was small, he looked small, he accepts it.

He thinks he...deserves it.

"It's easier said than done to just break off something you've been working at for so long but have you thought about separation?"

"Every single day but I'm starting to believe I don't even know what that means," he shakes his head as if ashamed for fantasizing about another life "she always says the right thing to lure me back in again. She's always...there."

I knew she was manipulative and insecure the moment I saw her. My heart ached for the visually pleasing and amazing guy but I knew that it didn't matter how good-looking you were, mental illness and abuse skips no one.

Jung Hoseok was like a really old painting that hadn't been restored but you could see the potential poking through the dust if you really looked.

"Has it ever gotten... physical? Threatening?"

He keeps his focus to his right not intent on answering the question I already had the answer to. The way he calculated every movement of his wife, no matter how small she was, just screamed his fear of her temper that she kept hidden behind her sickly sweet façade.

"I don't expect you to understand but I feel really stupid. I'm not talking about fragile masculinity here but she wasn't like this before we got married. Things like that don't usually just happen to people. It's always the other way around too, no one cares about this way..."

He was right. Who could possibly want to hurt this guy?

"I understand everything Hoseok. And you're right although it is less common, relationship abuse concentrated on men is very underrepresented but I'll be with you every step of the way but if I ever feel that you are in serious danger I'm obliged to take this further. Just wanted you to know."

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I couldn't stop thinking about him especially at night. Although it was sometimes the way that you probably think I mean, I meant when I was eating my dinner wondering what was he eating? Would he eat anything at all? Would she cook for him? Was he even allowed to eat...

Silly dramatic scenarios that could definitely be true.

"How are we today?"

He stayed behind a lot to do nothing but bat his eyes playfully and talk about how his friends were telling him exactly the same things I was but more dramatic and emotional.

But Hoseok was also a lot more clever than he was letting on. I was getting sucked out of professionalism and books slowly and into his wrath. Every time he ran a hand through his hair or dragged his hands from the base of his legs right to the place I wanted to touch most, he knew exactly what he was doing and many times it was when his wife was a mere foot from him. That's when things started to get interesting.

He smiles all giddy on the couch as if Joyce slipped something in his coffee.

"I'm great actually for the first time in a long while."

I sat up suddenly interested in his flushing cheeks that seemed to spread beyond his slightly unbuttoned white shirt. He had some life in his cheeks that only meant he's surrounding himself with the people that truly care.

"I've moved back into my old room at the dorms and well I-" he looked at me "I met someone."

Fuck.

"That's great Hoseok. I'm so happy for you," I smiled cartoonishly.

Who am I kidding? A guy like Hoseok doesn't stay on the market for very long.

"So tell me about the lucky girl," I swallowed with a fist clenching my pen, feeling him saunter even though he was just sitting on the sofa, one of his perfectly sculpted hands sinking down his body towards the button of his pants. I couldn't stop shifting in my chair feeling a friction-wedgie on the horizon.

"Oh she's not a girl, she's a real woman," his hand slips beneath the opening of his trousers arching his back with the sweet release of his own touch.

What.

The air tickles my shoulder and drags up to my neck as I watch my client fuck himself on my couch. I'm frozen in place, trying to look everywhere but the intimidating outline of his desperation in his pants, the head just peeking out. But, even if I wasn't looking at his squinting eyes, whimpering lips, flexed things I could still hear his lazy groans and hard breathing.

His hand runs up and down his length teasing, not himself but I as the moment runs on for longer than I would care to admit.

Damn it. This was so wrong and in his little smirk and through his groans he knew it.

"I didn't know how much I wanted her until I realised..." he panted, eyes devouring my flustering form before settling on my tightly crossed legs that were bouncing with restraint.

"She wants me too."

With difficulty, I drag my greedy eyes away from his body and slip a hand under my suffocating skirt wanting to make the dull pulsating ache stop so I could get on with my day, parting my legs with newly found confidence for him to see exactly what I wanted.

Hoseok dragged his tongue over his panting hungry lips and I could only moan with the wonder of its capability. What would he feel like lost under my fingertips?

"Let me have you," he strokes faster while not ripping his eyes away from what I was doing once. "Please Dr."

My legs were aching at my lack of flexibility but some things were just worth suffering. As much as I would cringe at this later, watching him watch me was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. I wanted him to have me but I didn't dare cross the border of professionalism. If I was going to watch my client have sex with himself I'd do it in my chair on my side of the field.

Each one of my pants has me looking around. Pant, the door is locked. Pant, Joyce has gone home. Pant, I shaved. Pant, he was married. Pant, fuck it she's a bitch.

"Y/N," he groans, finally closing his eyes as his clenching thighs began to twitch.

"Hoseok," I said all the same, determined to see him finish in my office.

If I couldn't solve his problem then I'd definitely solve another.

"Y/N."

"Hoseok."

"Y/N?"

I shot up slightly in my chair, a confused Hoseok sat on the sofa in front of me, legs wide open, gawking as a red rash creeps from underneath my blouse and onto my clenched jaw. What the fuck just happened.

"I'm sorry Hoseok I must've- well I don't know... What were you saying?" I stutter flustered, what an impression I've made.

I can't believe I just dozed off in my appointment to fantasize about one of my clients masturbating on my sofa! A married man! A damaged man.

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"I took her back."

I tried not to let my judgement cloud my advice but considering how sinful and flustered I was, that proved to be more difficult than what I thought.

"Was it on your own terms?" I fixed my glasses on my nose, stray messy hairs tickling my neck just like in that stupid dream.

I bet she manipulated her way back into his life, cried on his doorstep saying how fun it was that one time they went ice skating or some shit. Bias. Bias. Bias.

"Well yeah, I wouldn't have taken her back if she wasn't right," he got suddenly defensive, insecure about the choices he had made this past week.

"Hey, it's alright. She's your wife, you can't just do things just because a therapist told you to. I only know what you're feeling because of classes and experience in this job, I have no idea how you personally feel. If you love her, all of her, then you've made the right choice."

"And if I don't?"

Fuck, I wasn't expecting that. Um.

"Then you need to take control, defeat whatever it is you're feeling and do what is right for you, despite the feelings of others. At the end of the day, only you know what's best of you Hoseok."

"What's best for me?"

He takes a moment to ponder, stuck in a very difficult situation that could possibly change the rest of his life. But, there's a glint.

"I know you've been fantasizing about me," he smirks out of nowhere making me feel like the god damn client.

I tilt my head, do I plead guilty?

"I haven't exactly been innocent here either I just can't help myself when I'm around you. I don't know if it's the chair or the office or..."

The fuck is wrong with my chair?

"Because it just feels right."

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this, not just his situation but he was the type if you saw him on the streets you'd immediately picture what the rest of your life would be like in his arms.

I really liked him, wanted him so bad it suddenly seemed good.

"I think this is very inappropriate and I'm not entirely sure what you're feeling isn't just desperation to fill the hole your wife has left behind. I can assure you, Mr Jung, I am not the right person to be filling it," I admit.

"Are you taking notes right now?"

I finish writing 'fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk' on some paper, immediately scribbling over it before he craned his neck just enough.

"Hoseok, I need you to calm down. I am a professional, this is my job. As much as I have grown to care for you and want to help you more than any other person, I cannot help you if you cross the line."

"I don't believe you."

"Excuse me?"

He looks at me finally.

"I said I don't believe you. But I'll ignore your stubbornness for now. Just help me."

#bts imagines #bts smut #hoseok imagine #jhope #hopesmut #bts #jimin

[ererokii]

i formally request that you write monsterfucking with zhongli absolutely fucking the shit out of us #monsterfuckersuniteagain

— god’s servant

warnings: monsterfucking (in a way) degradation, finger humping (yes that’s right) power play, overstimulation, dacryphilia, humiliation, dry humping, overstimulation wc: 1.9k

note: zhongli is enormous in this fyi, so he’s over 10ft tall, please read the warnings carefully and if you are uncomfortable, scroll away and do not leave unnecessary comments// thank you for requesting i had a fun time writing this <3

You’ve grown accustomed to your current lifestyle— the basic definition of sitting still and look pretty for all to see. You didn’t hate it at all. You lived in wealth and luxury, everything was at the tip of your fingers.

Many came far and wide to give reverence to the Almighty and ask for blessings for days and years to come. You’ve started to familiarize the faces that came more than once, yet you never spoke a word to them (not like you wanted to anyway).

Always, you sat in the palm of his hand, his fingers curled up to keep your small body from falling off. Eyes would stare down at you with adoration and a burning passion. Just the feeling of him underneath your legs was enough to get your blood pumping. You were given a name for your appropriate duty— Morax’s Precious Thing.

His elbow is propped against the stone armrest of his chair, knuckles against his chin. His head is cocked to the side faintly, his lips curled up in the smallest of smirks— amber eyes staring down at you. You always felt small against his streaks, figuratively and literally.

Morax stood at 15ft tall, looking over every human in his nation and could practically squish them with the step of his foot. It was easy to say he was very intimidating, able to strike fear in anyone who dared do him wrong.

“Are you too afraid? Is it too big for a small thing like you?” He asks, voice booming overhead as he shifts, looming his hand over and barely rubbing the top of your head with his finger.

“No,” you say confidently but by the way your legs tremble contradicts your statement. He chuckles and taps your side, your body moving with his motion.

“Come on then. Be my good little human and please me.” His voice is like silk to your ears, just him talking was enough to have your thighs pushed together for some friction.

In between your legs was his middle finger. Each digit was about the size of your body, if not bigger.

He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to start moving. Your small hands grip the sides of his finger to the best of your ability.

Your cheeks heat up, averting your eyes from him in embarrassment. “Come on.” He urges, moving his finger slightly, the ridges bumping against your bare cunt— a delicious shiver going down your back.

Your hips stutter forward, digging your nails into his skin as you start off slow. Huffs and puffs escape your lips as you gather your rhythm, grinding down against his finger. Soft moans reach his ears and he hums in approval. 

“Look at you,” he coos, almost laughing at how desperate you look. You peer up through your lashes, tears forming by the edges of your eyes. “My little human fucking herself on my finger. Does that feel good? Or is it too much?”

“I-It’s great!” you gasp, your clit dragging against him. You mutter things underneath your breath, maintaining eye contact. Morax shifts in his seat, legs spread open in a comfortable position. His hood covers half of his head, the clothing stopping above his navel, exposing his skin to everyone. 

“You look so pathetic,” he says, squinting down at you. “Imagine if everyone found out how much of a whore you were, humping away at my finger like an animal in heat. What do you think they would say?”

You glance down, gaping at his slick covered finger, your juices practically drenching him. Not pleased by your lack of responses, he bends his finger, the knuckle hitting your clit. You cry out, leaning forward as if you were going to hug it. “P-Please!”

“Please what? You’re going so slow. Go faster, you know I won’t wait long.”

Afraid at his threat, you whimper and go faster, the aches in your hips starting to become unbearable. The bumps and ridges of his finger send your eyes rolling into your head, back arching. Your breasts bounce with the fast pace, his eyes locking onto them. They’re so small, yet look so adorable to him. Everything about you was so adorable.

You were his little human and he cherished you no matter what. Yet he used you for his own pleasure. Numerous occasions he would use your body to get him off. His hand would be wrapped around your torso, careful to not hurt you and drag your cunt against his cock. In a matter of seconds you would be cumming, but he still had a lot in him. 

“M-Morax,” you call out to him, biting down on your lower lip. “I can’t do it anymore! Please!” tears cascade down your face as you helplessly jerk your hips against his skin. Your legs tremble, breathing unevenly as drool dribbles down your chin, landing on your thigh. 

Your god doesn’t say anything, only staring down at you. He refuses to move, he wants to see you lose yourself, aching and crying as the feeling is too much. Morax tells you often how pretty you look getting messed up from the smallest of touches, it was truly pathetic.

“You look so helpless,” he says in a loving tone, reaching down and petting the top of your head with his thumb in a mocking way. It makes the pit of your stomach twist in a way you love. He always talked down on you like this, and his words did nothing but turn you on even more.

“Do you need my help, you precious thing?” he asks and you nod quickly. Your jaw drops as a shiver runs down your arms, a burning sensation running over your body. Your hips stutter in place, head hanging back in a silent cry. You tremble, feeling yourself about to give out.

“It seems so,” he mutters, wrapping a finger around your torso, lifting you off of his finger and onto his palm, sitting you down. “And it appears you made a mess on my finger.” He lifts his other hand up, examining the essence that runs down.

You don’t pay mind to his next movements, but hear the rustling of clothes that you’ve drowned out right after. He lifts you up once more, before placing you down on something that makes you gasp.

You tense up, lifting your head and catch his stare. His creme cheeks hold a pastel pink, his mouth parted open and a content sigh rips from his throat. 

The head of his cock snugs in between your open legs, the strain in your muscles adds onto the pleasure.  His finger around your torso tightens slightly, not wanting to crush you nor wanting you to fall. 

“I got you. It seems something as small as you will collapse right now. Isn’t that right?” He smiles and you can’t help but whine at his teasing. You wriggle your hips in his hold, mewling at the sensation already. 

He grunts lowly, letting you move on your own first. You gape up at him, your fingers gripping the plush of your thighs. You felt full and there was nothing instead of you. 

There’s a mutual look of love shared between the two of you, a burning passion igniting inside. He begins to move his hand slowly, dragging your body back and forth on the tip of his cock. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut, letting him take the lead. Your head hangs back, mouth parted for wanton noises to be heard by all. 

Your pussy feels amazing against him. Morax moans quietly, watching the way your slick drips down the base of his cock. His pre-cum sticks to the inside of your thighs, the smell reaching up to your nose that intoxicates you. 

Your body is overly sensitive from your previous orgasm and you were certain you would break in the next few minutes. 

“So gorgeous,” he says, using his thumb and taps gently at your chin, forcing you to stare at him. “You look so heavenly. I could eat you up.”

The sinful noises sound like rich melodies. In a place that was meant to be pure, only used for reverence and praising their Lord, Morax— was instead tainted with your degrading acts. Your moans bounce off of the golden walls of his domain, the sounds circulating and reaching the depths of his abode.

The squelching noises your cunt made as he grinded you down was heavenly, every noise you made, every noise your body made when he had you like this-- open and submissive to him was heaven on earth. 

He remembers the first time he had you like this. Poor thing, you were deathly nervous to even sit on his finger. After some reassurance, you gained the courage to do so. And once you did, you couldn’t get enough, and certainly he couldn’t either. 

Any mere mortal could walk through those gold gates in the front to come worship their God and find him using you, his little human as his personal cocksleeve to please himself. You would have died from embarrassment, but you could care less.

Your breath hitches when the head bumps against your clit, repeating the action. Pleasure skyrockets at the simple gesture, your wails increasing in volume.

One of your hands reaches forward and grabs at nothing, pleading eyes staring up at him. “God please don’t stop!”

You’ve gone delirious at this point. You’re unable to think, the only thing fogging up your mind was the feeling of his throbbing cock against your body, the head forcing your legs wider as he grinds you against him.

Your hand slid up under your silk dress, tweaking your nipple between two fingers, tugging and rolling it. You gasp out, clenching around nothing as you cry out.

As you convulsed on him for the second time, he didn’t show any signs of stopping and in fact, moved you faster to chase his own release.

“Morax,” you sob, placing your small hands on his finger that’s wrapped around you. “I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he grunts, his hand stuttering in place. Choked breaths and moans get caught in his throat, his eyes squeezing shut.

His lower lip quivers faintly, his hips beginning to grow restless as he thrusts up unintentionally, causing a scream to erupt from you. His cock bumped against you a bit rougher than you had expected, yet it felt amazing. 

His head hangs back against his stone chair, a vein popping in his neck as he fights the urge to let out a noise, his body not moving until you feel something warm shoot past your thigh and into the air. You quickly shut your eyes, flinching when some of the substance lands on your body.

The inside of your legs are covered in slick and his seed. The feeling began to get uncomfortable but you didn’t want to move just yet. The act was overall lewd, but it made you feel excited even after it was done. 

Your body trembles as you slowly come from your high, gasping and staring down at your hands. Filthy, but endearing. You bring a finger to your mouth, tongue swirling around it as you clean it off, humming around it. 

You’re absolutely drenched in his seed— head to toe if you must say. But after doing this for so long, the feeling of it and the smell brought you comfort in some twisted way. It was his way of marking you as his as he would tell you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morax stares down at you through lidded eyes, a small smile cracking at the corner of his lips. “Looks like you need to be cleaned up.” he says through small pants, adjusting you as you are now seated on the palm of his hand. “We wouldn’t want you to drown either, hm?”

You huff, puffing your cheeks out as you avert your gaze from him, having enough of his teasing due to your height. “It’s not my fault you’re insanely tall and I’m short.”

“It’s all more endearing, my love.”

taglist: @katsuhera @novvabeam @axther @mysticalchocolate @dilucs-claymore @yanfeisrose @mowestruc @tokyosrevenge @jaegerverse @hu-tao-main @midnightangelfox @plumpkie @kaeyashoe @jaywalksalloverme (add yourself to the taglist HERE)

#zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader smut #tw: monster fucking #zhongli zmut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #zhongli imagines

[timottea]

heeeey! could i request smth for timothee. maybe he met y/n through their mutual friends, start hanging out with her and slowly falling in love with her. thanks ❤️

hiii, sorry this took so long life got crazy and is still crazy! thank you for trusting me with this idea it's so good, it's going to become a series whenever i can updateee ❤️

“you made it!” your friend shrieks, throwing her arms around yet another person whose name you don’t know. you don’t mind, she’s always been a social butterfly, and her housewarming was always bound to be an affair. but there must be nearly 40 people in her two bedroom apartment and you just need a break from the noise. as the third bottle of champagne spritzes open, you take your chance to find some place quieter.

in the next room, you find shelter between a potted plant and her barren bookcase — you’ll let the bleak shelves slide, after all, she’s only just moved in. there’s a cardboard box labelled BOOKS beside the bookcase, so you have to tear it open, just to help her out.

“curiosity killed the cat, you know,” a voice speaks suddenly. you jump, slamming your head into one of the shelves and seeing stars.

“god! you scared me!” you cry. your hand darts to your head as you turn to face the assailant.

“oh my god i- i- i’m so sorry, oh christ, are you — is your head okay — fuck — i’m so sorry! here, let me —”

the stranger’s hands flap in the space between your two bodies, begging to fix, to comfort, to write you a fucking apology letter.

you take a moment to look at him, to take in the way he shifts his weight from addidas to addidas, to the tuck of his sweats in his socks, to his fluttering hands, the sheer panic on his face, that face!, the curls that fall into his eyes, and curiosity may just kill you after all.

you zone back in and he’s still talking —

“— bad first impression, god, worst first impression, i- fuck, can i get you — i can’t believe this, whatever you need i’ll —”

you tilt your head to the side to observe him, fascinated. he could go on for days, you think, and — even more shocking than the fright he gave you — you’d let him. you could listen to this boyish stranger with the curly hair and wild hands talk for days.

the boy’s eyebrows arch and they’re such a sad angle it makes something in your chest twist. he’s mortified, and stumbling over his words, and you watch a million different emotions flit across his face like a flip book.

“your face is pretty,” you say suddenly, silencing his rambling. you blame the champagne.

he blushes. “oh my god, you absolutely have a concussion.”

you laugh, shoving him playfully. you furrow your eyebrows when he steps closer. “what are you doing? i’m fine.”

“i just- sorry, i just need to check your pupils aren’t weird,” he says, meeting your eyes for a second that feels an awful lot like eternity.

you squint as you focus on the colour of his, finding it impossible to decide. somewhere between green and hazel; they remind you of sunlight streaming through a canopy of leaves.

his eyebrows raise and his lips move and you realise a second too late that he asked you a question.

“huh? sorry, what was that?” you shake your head and immediately regret it. “ow.”

“i said i really think you need to sit down?” the boy repeats, guilt and concern etched across his features. “come on, i think i saw a — oh, yeah, here’s good too.”

he sinks to the floor as well, sitting himself in front of you and the box of books.

“everywhere else is too loud,” you explain, then pry open the box to leaf through your friend’s book collection.

the boy nods, adjusting the ring on his finger as he watches you sort the volumes onto the empty shelves.

“are you sure you're okay?” he asks again.

your fingers still against the spines of the vonneguts. “yeah, honestly, don’t worry about it.”

“hmmm i’m not so sure,” he says. you turn to look at him and register the smirk gracing his lips. “no person free of a concussion would put vonnegut next to whitman.”

your jaw drops. how dare this handsome stranger question your alphabetising! “but that’s the alphabet!” you exclaim, singing, “T U V W!”

he shakes his head, amused, then scoots forwards to mess up your beautiful order. “alphabet is boring. too clinical.”

“you must hate going to book shops, then,” you glare at him and he shoots you a smile that you just want to kiss right off — wait, what?

“oh my god, i bet you draw all over your books,” you gasp, quickly moving the box out of his reach.

he sticks out his tongue.

“and — oh god — i bet you dog ear pages!” you shudder dramatically and he throws his head back laughing.

“whaaaat and you don’t?!” his laughter is contagious and you find yourself dazzled by the light in his eyes, so bright you almost have to look away. but you can’t. the last thing you want to do is look away so you lean forwards, lean closer. you want to make him shine like this with every word you say and you’re really blaming the champagne now.

“so what brings you here? run out of books to destroy?” you say, turning one book over and over in your hands.

the boy grins, amused, then leans back to glimpse the party through the doorway.

“my friend knows almost every person in this building, and, uh, he kind of dragged me out tonight,” he finishes bashfully.

at the raise of your eyebrows he adds, “not that i don’t want to be here, just that i don’t know anybody here.”

you nod, watching as he ducks his head sheepishly and switches the rings around on his fingers.

it’s the champagne that makes you bold. you lean forwards and nudge his leg with yours and his head shoots up to look at you.

“well i'm yn, and it’s nice to meet you,” you say, giving him another nudge for good measure. electricity floods through your veins.

nudging you back, his smile is lopsided when he replies, “well i'm timothée, and likewise.”

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee imagine #timothee x you #timothee chalamet blurb #timothee chalamet x reader

[kaghoeyama]

three of cups.

featuring: eren jaeger, armin arlert, afab reader.

word count: 5.5k

summary: you, eren and armin have been best friends for ages. there’s always been an underlying tension between the three of you, until that tension finally snaps.

content warning: smut, college au, post-timeskip characters, alcohol consumption (characters are tipsy but not inebriated), threesome, mlm, mutual pining, voyeurism, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), slight edging, use of good boy/good girl, masturbation, cumplay

a/n: uhh so i was horny and this happened. pls be kind this is like my first fanfic ever (also english is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes feel free to let me know).

update: so apparently tumblr took out a whole ass paragraph after the “keep reading” and then repeated two different paragraphs twice?? i’ve seen people trying to fix this by adding asterisks so i’m doing the same. sorry about that lol.

18+ CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

So loud, you think.

You can almost feel the room vibrate with beat of the music, your steps naturally adapting to the rhythm as you make your way through a crowd of college students in various states of dishevelment. A smile comes to your lips. The whole place smells of alcohol and sweat and the floor is sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the chaos; the year had been brutal for a lot of you and with finals finally behind you, no one was gonna miss the chance to loosen up and just have fun, yourself included. Which was exactly what brought you to make this little trip across the room, eyes fixed on your objective.

*

*

*

He’s leaning against the wall, his golden hair making it easier for you to spot him in the crowded room. His eyes are trained on his phone as he mindless scrolls down with his thumb, so you’re not too surprised when he doesn’t notice you straight away, even when you’re standing right in front of him.

You take a moment to take in his delicate features, his skin turned to porcelain by the bright light coming from his phone; the alcohol makes you bold enough to trail a hand up his arm and rest on his cheek, successfully shifting his attention to you. His face relaxes in a smile when he sees you, but his eyebrows are still raised in surprise at your sudden closeness; he opens his mouth to greet you but you’re quicker,  “Armin, would you please let me kiss you?”, your gaze keeping him pinned against the wall.

“I- what?” 

You relish in the way his breath catches in his throat, and you certainly don’t miss the flush that comes to his face or the way his eyes drop to your lips. 

“It’s for a dare… please?” your answer comes so innocent to his ears and he tries not to think at how pretty your plea sounded, even prettier than he’d fantasized so many times now.

 “I- I mean, yeah, sure” he stammers; you chuckle when close the distance between you, his pretty blue eyes still confused as you press your lips against his. 

The kiss comes out of the blue for him, yet you don’t miss the way his hands instinctively grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You hum into the kiss, your body suddenly so warm as he moves his lips against yours; he’s so pliant, all you had to do was ask and now he’s all over you, his grip keeping you flush against his body. Your fingers slip between his golden locks and when you lightly tug at them his hold grows tighter, his lips parting with a low moan. You swear you hear him whimper as you slip your tongue past his lips, taking control of the kiss as you explore his mouth, warm and wet and oh his hands are gripping your ass now, and you moan into the kiss as you feel his erection poking at your hip.

 “The dare said ‘kiss’ but if you two wanna get a room…” Sasha’s loud voice somehow reaches you from across the room and you pull back from the kiss, a string of spit connecting still connecting your mouths. He’s panting, mouth still parted, and you can’t help but stare at his pink lips, slightly puffed and still shiny from the kiss.

 Without thinking you brush a thumb against his lower lip, “so pretty” you murmur. 

Armin swallows around nothing, and when your eyes meet his pupils are all blown out, pleading, almost begging you to close the distance once again. Fuck he looks so flustered, heat pooling between your legs as you wonder how he’d look if you took his cock in your mouth, if you could make him so lost in pleasure that his smart little brain couldn’t form any coherent thoughts.

 You feel his arm around your shoulders before you see him, his usual scent of soap and lemon shampoo now mixed with a hint of smoke. You rest your head against his shoulder, your body craving physical contact after the kiss you’d shared with the blond. “Hi ’ren” you murmur against his shirt, dazed eyes looking up at him and then shifting to Armin. Your kiss was enough to make his brain fuzzy but now, with Eren’s arm wrapped around him and his body so close, he felt completely overwhelmed.

Eren pressed a kiss over your hair and pulled you and Armin even closer. “You shouldn’t keep all the fun to yourselves, don’t you know that sharing is caring?” he whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear through the music.

You can’t believe that cheesy line sent a shiver through your body. You figure it’s because of Eren.

“Maybe we should make use of that tequila bottle in our dorm room, what do you say Armin?” he adds, the blond choking out a soft affirmation. You doubt your sober self would have done that, but you were tipsy enough not to care when you took both their hands, interlacing your fingers with their own, a teasing smile gracing your lips. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 You feel strangely calm as you walk down the hallway. It’s definitely quieter than the party, and your attention is quickly drawn from one dorm room to another, where you catch glimpses of people smoking and drinking to the sound of at least ten different playlists.

Again, you smile. For the third year now you’re witnessing how your otherwise rigorous and law abiding campus turns into a huge frat party in the weekend after finals. You don’t know if it’s the warm weather or the fact most common spaces are surprisingly clean by monday that makes everyone look the other way, either way you’re thankful. You close your eyes for a moment as you walk, slightly overwhelmed by the music and the loud chatter and the drink you had at the party, your brain lost in a pleasant buzz.

 A light squeeze to your hand brings you back to earth. Your head turns to your left, eyes slowly opening to meet a pair of blue ones. 

“Are you okay?” Armin asks softly, the tiniest hint of concern slipping past his lips. You wait a beat before addressing his question, choosing to look at him instead. You note that his cheeks are almost as pink as his lips, and that his blue t-shirt makes his eyes sparkle; you ignore how your stomach flips when you realize he’d been holding your hand since you’d left the party. 

“I’m great,” you say as you shift closer to him “I’m in a good mood actually.”

 You catch Eren’s eyes leaving you as he turns his head forward and keeps walking in front of you. You let your gaze travel from his head – you loved that half bun he kept his hair in more than you should – to his broad shoulders, entranced by the way his black t-shirt stretches over his muscular back.

You must have missed the part where he stopped in front of the dorm room, because you end up bumping against that back. 

“You’re completely out of it” Eren teases with a grin. 

“No, I’m not” you retort, “as I said, I’m in a good mood.”

 The look he gives you is playful. “You call it good mood, I call it being drunk.”

 “I had literally just one drink, there’s no way anyone could get drunk from that.”

 “Depends on how strong the drink is.”

 “Will you shut up?”

 You’re still bickering as you enter the room, Armin rolling his eyes at the two of you with a fond smile. Once Eren shuts the door though, you all fall quiet.

 The only light came from the blue led Armin had put on his side of the room, casting a glow over your faces that was almost ethereal. There’s a weird tension, a nervous feeling gripping your stomach and making you tingle with anticipation. You’d been alone with them in that very room more times than you could count, cramming for tests, watching a movie or simply hanging out, but tonight something was different. You sit next to Armin on his bed, eyebrows knitting together as you quickly try to analyse that feeling.

 The three of you had been friends for ages, since you all attended the same elementary school and lived down the same street. You had bonded with Armin first, his quiet and intelligent personality matching well with yours. You remember fondly the warm afternoons in his backyard, grass tickling your skin as he showed you his new ocean life books and you rambled about ancient Egypt, Greek myths or whatever you were fixating on at the moment.

 Eren on the other hand – at first you couldn’t stand him. You only knew him as ‘Armin’s other friend’, but he was such a loud and hot headed kid, you’d always found his attitude too off-putting to even start a conversation, and you were pretty sure he didn’t like you either. After some pushing from Armin though, you’d actually tried to get to know each other; much to your surprise, you found out you had a lot of interests in common. Eventually, you’d even come to admire how passionate he got about the things he cared about, how strong his ideals were, and with time his impulsivity left room to a much more calculated approach.

 After all these years, the three of you were still as thick as thieves; you’d become so comfortable around each other that people always assumed you were either dating one of them. You’d always brush it off with a laugh, but now you wonder if it’s normal for friends to behave like that around each other. It was the little things at first; lingering touches, wondering eyes, teasing comments. Then Eren’s hands all over you every time you wore a pretty dress, or Armin’s obvious erection that time you and Eren were messing around at the pool; even your friends had noticed how close you were – and never missed a chance to tease you about it.

This is stupid, you conclude. They’re your oldest and closest friends, you won’t allow your attraction to them – at least you’re admitting it’s there – to make things weird.

 You move to get the tequila you know they keep hidden in the closet; maybe that will shake the awkwardness away. You take a long sip before handing the bottle to the blond, alcohol still burning in your throat as you lay on your back, head resting on his lap.

 You feel him still beneath you; when you look at him, his flustered expression is clear despite the dim lit room – before you can catch yourself, you wonder if he’s still hard from before.

 Eren looks at the both of you on Armin’s bed. You’ve closed your eyes and your head is lightly nodding along with some music coming from the hallway, the beat muffled by the closed door. He watches Armin, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he can almost hear the mental pep talk the blond gives himself before raising a hand to play with your hair. You hum at that, eyes slowly opening as you turn your head towards him.

 “Eren, come closer” you say, stretching out an arm as if to reach him.

 “And why would I do that” he answers with a playful smile on his lips.

 You raise your eyebrow, smiling back to him. “If you insist on staying over there, I guess Armin and I are really gonna keep all the fun to ourselves, isn’t that right Armin.” You say lightly, rising from his lap to lay against his side, your body wrapping around his arm; his hand ends up between your closed thighs and somehow you manage not purr in his ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, both of you now facing Eren. 

When Armin speaks, you don’t miss how his playful tone hides a hint of malice, eyes fixed on the brunette, “oh I’m sure he wouldn’t mind just watching if we were actually having fun.”

Eren laughs at that, his voice dropping lower. 

“True” he admits calmly, as if the thought hadn’t brought him to several orgasms through the years, “but right now I think I’d rather join.” 

And he does, sitting close to your other side.

You wish that type of exchange wasn’t as common as it was between the three of you. You also wish it didn’t send a wave of arousal trough your body every single time.

You watch him as he leans toward you to grab the bottle from Armin’s hand, taking a sip of the amber liquor. Your eyes follow a drop of alcohol at the corner of his mouth, unconsciously tightening your hold on the blond as Eren’s tongue comes out to bring the drop past his lips.

In that moment, Armin decides he’s had enough. He’s way too turned on to let all this teasing slide; if the three of you really are as attracted to each other as he thinks, this was the time he was gonna do something about it. So when he speaks, he does with a purpose.

 “Is it weird that I’ve kissed both my best friends?” his question sounds so innocent, he even lets out a calculated chuckle to feign embarrassment.

Eren tilts his head toward him, throwing him a curious glance “You still remember that? Must have been one hell of a kiss huh” he smirks. 

Armin knows he’s teasing, and that he clearly remembers too, but he can’t help the pink blush that colours his cheeks as his thoughts rush back to that night.

 It happened first semester of junior year, after Sasha’s ‘small’ housewarming party had quickly turned into a full blown party. As the music got louder and more and more people filled the tiny flat, Jean, all tipsy and bright eyed, had gathered all of you in Sasha’s room to play spin the bottle – most of you had booed him, but you’d followed him anyway.

 After watching you awkwardly peck Connie on the lips and Mikasa blush violently as Sasha took her face between her hands and gave her a loud smooch, it was his turn to play. He gave the bottle a spin and almost choked on his spit when it landed on Eren. He remembers everyone cheering as he tried to stop his face from flushing red, looking everywhere but at Eren; that’s how his eyes landed on you, quiet where your friends were loud, your eyes focused on him in a way that was almost daring.

He followed your gaze as it moved towards Eren, finally making eye contact with the boy. His attempts look composed failed miserably when Eren, a lazy smirk spreading on his lips, beckoned him with his hand to move closer.

 “I- uh we don’t have to…” he choked out.

 Eren’s smirk grew wider, “It’s just a game Armin, what are you scared of?”

 Armin couldn’t tell if his tone was soft or mocking, either way he felt as he had something to prove now.

He stood on his knees and crawled on the floor as Eren mirrored him, ignoring the way his stomach flipped as they met in the middle of the circle, so close he could feel his breath over his lips.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean said from somewhere behind him, “it’s not like you haven’t done this before” he teased.

Armin wanted to turn back and state that no, they had not actually done that before – he’d probably sound way more disappointed than he should – but before he could even open his mouth he felt a hand on his cheek; his eyes flickered back to Eren’s green ones, only to find them trained on his lips as the brunette sealed the gap between them.

Eren’s lips felt so impossibly soft again his, he tasted like vodka and something sweet he couldn’t recognise and Armin couldn’t really thing about anything as he lost himself in the kiss. The hand on his cheek moved through his hair and Eren pulled slightly, just enough to make Armin gasp against his lips, taking the chance to slide his tongue against his lower lip and into his mouth. Armin broke the kiss at that, a whimper leaving his lips because he wanted, needed more, but the feelings building up inside him – and the arousal making his pants tighter – were sending him in a slight panic.

He barely registered his friends’ loud noises as he sat back on his spot, but he didn’t miss the way Eren winked at him and licked his lips, green eyes boring into his blue ones. Armin struggled to act like his normal self rather than some teenager who had just kissed his long time crush. He desperately tried to focus on something, anything but Eren and his stupid lips and stupid grin and stupidly pretty eyes right in front of him, and that’s how his eyes found you again.

 You had watched the whole scene with an interest you hoped went unnoticed by your friends. You sure hoped Mikasa, sat right next to you, had missed the way your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the blond gasp under Eren’s grip, heat coursing through your body and pooling between your legs. When Armin’s blue eyes found you, flustered, with half lidded eyes and teeth sunk in your bottom lip, you’d lowered your head in shame.

 Eren rests his head again the wall and closes his eyes, as to enhance the memory.

It had been over a year ago, yet he remembered Armin’s sweet lips against his, the small noises he unconsciously let out going straight to his groin.

 He remembered your face, eyes glossy with desire as you watched them part, flustered almost as much as Armin, as if you’d been the one kissing him instead, and oh had he wanted to kiss you. Had it been just the three of you in that room, he would have grabbed your face and bruised those pretty lips, forcing Armin’s sweet taste in your mouth.

 He’d long given up the guilt that came with fantasising about his closest friends, any uncomfortable feeling quickly replaced by pleasure every time he wrapped his hand around his cock. At first it was just one of you under him, on top of him; soon enough he’d started picturing both of you on your knees, eyes bright and pleading, pink tongue hanging out of your mouths as you wait for him to paint your pretty faces with his cum.

“So who’s the best kisser?” you ask, your warm breath against Armin’s ear making him shiver.

 “I can’t- You both… I’m not gonna answer that.” Armin manages to sound flustered when he answers.

 Eren looks at him. “I would” he states nonchalantly, “but I don’t have all the materials to make my choice.” His tone drops to a low murmur, green eyes slowly shifting to you.

 Armin tries to hold back a smile, both of you reacting exactly as he anticipated.

 Your heart is hammering in your chest, it’s beat so loud you’re sure both of the boys can hear it; when you speak, you desperately try to keep your voice steady.

“Then god forbid you make an uniformed decision.”

 Eren is straight up grinning at this point; he grabs your wrists and tugs you closer, pulling you on his lap. You balance yourself on his shoulders as his hands graze your bare thighs up and down, your skirt bunching up to your hips and barely covering your panties.

 When your eyes meet, you’re shocked at how softly he’s looking at you. “I’ve been waiting a while for this” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, and you swear you can feel him stroking your cheek before burying his hands your hair and drawing you closer. He’s so warm all pressed up against you, so sweet when his lips ghost against yours before finally kissing you.

You’re slow to respond at first, too lost in how right it feels to have him so close and all over you, but you’re quick to part your lips for him, his tongue sliding against yours; he tastes of alcohol and you get drunk on it, a small moan leaving your throat and getting lost in the kiss. You whimper as you feel him groping your ass and push you even closer. He’s kissing you like a man starved, devouring you, the intensity making you feel light headed. You break apart from the kiss with a sigh, head falling on his shoulder, barely registering what you’re doing as you lightly grind against his hardening cock.

Eren groans as he tugs your hair so that you can look at him, his dark pupils swallowing up almost any trace of green. 

“So needy… how many times have you thought about this?” he asks, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your skirt. 

You look away from him, cheeks heating up; you don’t want to admit how many times you’ve cummed on your fingers with their names on your lips, but you don’t think you have a choice.

 His head dips lower to press an open mouth kiss to the column of your throat, “Answer baby, there’s no need to be shy; we’re all friends here.”

 You suck in your breath, voice embarrassingly shaky “so- so many times, w- with both of you” you confess.

 Armin groans at your words, a curse slipping past his lips. “We- we could have done this so long ago” he mumbles, eyes fixed on you as he palms himself through his jeans. You feel so hot under his gaze, so wanted, you never want his eyes to leave your body.

Eren steals your attention by sucking a purple mark at the base of your neck; you bite back a moan as he licks at the bruise, heat pooling in your panties. he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

 “This won’t do” he says softly against the shell of your ear “how can Armin hear all your pretty noises if you hold them back?”

 Before you can choke out an apology, his lips go back on your neck, finding that sweet spot below your ear that makes you whimper. You’re trembling as he sucks another bruise on your skin and this time you don’t hold back, soft moans leaving your lips as your hands grips his hair, tugging it loose and fawning all over his shoulders.

 Eren pulls back, admiring his work as you try to steady your breath. 

“Good girl” he murmurs, “let us hear you.”

 You shudder at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, and he’s barely put his mouth on you. You can feel wet slick gathering in your panties and you shift to straddle one of his thighs, grinding hard to relieve the tension as your head falls back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

Two strings of low curses reach your ears, and you barely register Armin slipping a hand under his pants as Eren pulls you down on him again, the knee you have trapped between his legs pressing against his hard cock.

 “Fuck, baby you wanna cum like that? Riding my thigh?” he pants, slightly bouncing his leg up to meet your movements, successfully drawing another moan out of your lips.

He brings a hand your face, almost reverent as his thumb grazes your lower lip, just like you’d done with Armin barely an hour ago. Your tongue darts out and licks the tip of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking slightly as you nod, eager.

Eren parts his lips, eyes glued to your mouth. He can’t believe he finally has you – both of you – as he wants you, as he’s pictured so many times; he wonders if he’ll come undone in his pants like a teenager, as you add pressure on his throbbing cock with each grind of your hips. He slips his finger from your warm lips, rushing his hands under your skirt to take off your panties.

 When you finally readjust yourself on his thick thigh, you almost sob at the feeling of your bare, sensitive cunt against the rough material of his pants. Before you can resume your movements, he lifts up the piece of fabric, dangling it in front of your face.

 “Look at this” he murmurs, “completely soaked” his voice trailing off as an idea suddenly forms in his mind. 

He turns to Armin, and fuck, he feels his cock twitch at the sight. The blond is laying against the headboard, legs spread apart; he has a hand wrapped tight at the base of his hard, leaking cock, his pretty face all scrunched up in pleasure. 

Armin’s cheeks heat up when he notices Eren’s eyes on him, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly stroking his cock, trying to delay his orgasm as much as possible.

“’Min, you think you could use these?” Eren asks, dark eyes dropping between the blond’s legs. Armin’s eyes widen at the request, his brain shutting down for a moment as he looks at the drenched panties in his hand. 

“What? I- I-…” he looks at you, dazed, half lidded eyes boring into his blue ones as you rub slowly on eren’s thigh. “Y- yes please” he chokes out, shame reddening the tip of his ears.

 “So polite… what a good boy” Eren purrs, his deep voice making Armin twitch in his own hand. 

He takes the panties, the beads of your arousal thick on the side your cunt was, and he wraps the fabric around his cock. You watch with wide eyes, struggling to believe that sweet innocent Armin would ever give you such a lewd sight; you’re itching to lean over and kiss, lick, bite every inch of his body, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you in place.

Armin moans loudly as your slick smears all over his shaft. He keeps rubbing at himself with your panties trapped between his hand and his cock and how the fuck is this already topping every sexual experience I’ve ever had he manages to think. His eyes trail up and down your body, Eren’s body, and he doesn’t even notice how much his strokes speed up, hips bucking desperately into his own hand.

“Slow down baby or you’ll miss all the fun” Eren’s voice is as soft as the hand he puts on his leg to appease him. “If you behave, y/n will let you cum on her, right?” he says, sneaking a hand between your legs and sliding two fingers between your dripping folds.

 “Ah- ye- yes Armin, wherever you want” you squeak, arching your back as Eren slips his fingers inside you. You feel inebriated as he slowly starts pumping, his fingertips massaging your walls, so slowly you want to cry. You wail when his fingers curl over your sweet spot, a hand gripping your waist to stop you from fucking yourself against his hand.

“Please ‘Ren, oh god, please, faster” you sob, high pitched moans slipping past your lips before you even realise it.

Instead of listening to you, Eren pulls his fingers out and slides them up to your clit, collecting your slick; you whimper when he retracts his hand from your cunt, pressing down on his thigh once again to get more friction. When your clit brushes against a wrinkle in his pants your eyes roll inside your head, orgasm so close you can taste it, but apparently Eren has other plans.

 “Not yet baby, hold it for a bit longer, will you?” he purrs close to your ear, his mouth peppering wet kisses on your neck.

“Please a-ah Eren I c-can’t-” your words come out as broken sobs but you’ve long stopped caring, your brain filled with nothing but pleasure.

When Eren looks at your face you look absolutely wrecked, sweat shining on your forehead and cheeks red from the strain, chest heaving as quick pants come out of your parted lips. “

Armin, come here.” He says, hungry eyes still locked on yours. The blond obeys and shuffles closer to the two of you, your panties forgotten on the bed.

“You’ve been so good I think you deserve a reward” he says, as he pushes the glistening fingers he’d just pulled out of your cunt straight into Armin’s pretty mouth. 

The blond moans at your taste, both hands coming to grab Eren’s wrist and push his fingers further in his mouth, choking slightly when they hit the back of his throat. Eren watches him in a trance, mesmerised by his blown eyes and the drop of spit that dribbles from the corner of his mouth. He wants to fucking ruin him. But not yet.

He takes his hand from the blond’s grasp – the whimper that leaves his mouth almost makes him cum on the spot. Eren lifts you from his lap, ignoring your pout as he places you right beside Armin.

 “Sit still for me” he says as he slowly palms his cock before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down with his boxers. You hear Armin suck in his breath as Eren’s hard cock slaps against his stomach, your own eyes widening at the sight; in length he almost matches the blonde, but the girth is just… fuck. Even dwarfed by his huge hand it’s almost intimidating, a thick vein reaching his pink leaking tip.

Eren takes his time as he pumps himself, eyes fixed on both of you; he drinks in your pretty, desperate faces, hands clutching the bedsheets as you try not to squirm under his gaze.

“Where do you wanna cum ’Min?” Eren’s question snaps him off a stupor, eyes leaving his groin to settle on your face.

You’re surprised Armin can blush more than he already is as he stutters that he wants to cum on you tits. You smirk as you quickly take off your top and unhook your bra, lust clouding you senses as you lay on the bed, head towards Eren as you motion Armin to straddle your waist. His eyes flicker to Eren and you miss the brunette’s nod before Armin comes on top of you, knees straddling your thighs.

Armin can’t believe just how fucking pretty you look under him, naked except for that cute pleated skirt you’re somehow still wearing. His hand trails up your stomach to squeeze your tits, fingers playing with your nipples as he pumps himself faster.

You feel Eren’s hand cradle your face, “touch yourself” he says, and you do just that.

With your skirt bunched up at your waist and your fingers quickly circling your clit, Armin doesn’t stand a chance; he leans forward, a hand planted on the bed as he cums on your tits with loud moan and your name on his lips, warm liquid painting your heaving chest. 

You watch the blond leaning back against the headboard, desperately trying to catch his breath; you lock eyes with him, toungue wetting your lips as you bring a hand up to play with the mess he made on you, getting high on the look of pure defeat on his face as you take your cum coated fingers back to your clit.

 “Oh fuck” Eren can’t believe how wrecked his own voice sounds “who would have thought you two would be such dirty sluts” he pants, his hand sliding faster and faster against his cock.

 You moan at his words “’Ren p-please can- can I-”

 “Cum.” He orders, and you obey right away.

The sounds that leave your lips are nothing short of pornographic, your body shaking and twitching in pleasure, mouth agape and head thrown back as white lights explode behind your eyelids, any coherent thought wiped out of your brain. Eren chokes out a curse at the sight, soft, high pitched groans echoing in the room until he finally cums with a broken moan, the liquid coating his hand and making a mess on his clothes.

It takes a while before any of you even attempts to move; silence falls in the room once again, except for your labored pants mixed with the music still playing in the hallway.

 Eren is the first to get up and head for the bathroom. By the time you’ve all taken a shower and settled back on Armin’s bed, no one has still said a word. You feel anxiety settle low in your stomach, its grip speeding up your heartbeats.

Did you ruin everything? Is this the end of your friendship? 

 “So who’s the best kisser?”

 Armin’s voice comes out tired and rough, but it puts a halt to the doubts swirling in your mind.

 The breathy chuckle leaving Eren’s mouth sends a wave of relief through your body; “I’m sorry ’Min but y/n is definitely winning this one.” You smile as you feel his hand ghosting over your spine.

 “Yeah, figured.”

The blond curls up against you and you’re still smiling. 

The bed is way too small for the three of you and the night breeze coming from the window does little to cool you down, but you’ve never been better, a warm feeling spreading from where your bodies connect with each other.

 As slumber takes you, you hope they’re still gonna be there when you wake up.

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[peakyblindersxx]

May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

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