#go read it and then watch it you won’t regret it!!!!!!!!!!
Text
running around in circles. nimona and ballister. do you get it. she wakes up from a nightmare and immediately calms down when he comforts her because she trusts him. he quite literally jumps off a balcony because he knows she’ll catch him. she tells him what shapeshifting feels like. lets him bandage her leg. he’s absolutely overjoyed when he sees her again at the end. he goes from rejecting her to accepting her to begging her to come back to rejoicing when she does. not only does she come back to life but she comes back to HIM. to her HOME. SHE FINDS HIM AGAIN IN ANOTHER LIFETIME. SHE GOES BACK TO HIM ON PURPOSE. DO YOU GET IT.
#nimona#ballister blackheart#ballister boldheart#nimona movie#nimona netflix#nimona 2023#nd stevenson#my words#CHEWING ON PLYWOOD#sorry i’m incapable of talking about nimona in my inside voice it will happen again#all she ever wanted was a home and a friend and he was just that 😭😭😭#they trust each other so much……#i like the book ending too but the movie ending is just so much more soft and forgiving#how could anyone say it was anti-climactic there was literally adrenaline pumping through my body#heart pounding edge of my seat every nerve set ablaze barely keeping it together#anyway nimona clearly Did Something to my brain lmao#go read it and then watch it you won’t regret it!!!!!!!!!!#this is scheduled btw (i Think i have the best posting times for this fandom figured out)#nimona spoilers
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
happy black sails on netflix us day everyone go watch it now!!!!
#black sails#if you’re reading this pls go give it a chance… you won’t regret it i promise#i’m so excited i finally have an easy way to watch it again (and convince everyone around me to watch it too)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
what would the butterfly effect be if we went back in time and made hawkeye share the spotlight enough with trapper so wayne rogers didn’t leave m*a*s*h. like bad bad?? or just inconvenient?
#perhaps worth it??!#everyday I get closer to the end of season 3 and I’m clenching my teeth#I say nothing of mclean stevenson bc imo he gets considerable attention stories and screen time#while there are so many episodes where trapper is truly just sidekicking#such a waste!!#love how I was like hey I’ll watch mash instead of greys and my favs won’t die or leave the show lol#but re henry I did go down a rabbit hole reading about stevenson’s career#and how he hopped from show to show trying to become the main guy the star and ended up w some regrets#feeling some kind of way about it !!#you chase the big good thing but where are you running! what you had was the best things would be#it’s so horribly human 😥#mashblr#mashposting
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober 2023
Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!
COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
And this years playlist can be found here.
There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!
We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2023 Prompt List
No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”
No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”
Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”
No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”
Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”
No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”
Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”
No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”
Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”
No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”
Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”
No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”
No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”
Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”
No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”
Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”
No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”
Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”
Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”
No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”
Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”
No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”
Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”
Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”
No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”
Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”
No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”
Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”
Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”
No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”
Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”
Matches | Scars | “Let me see”
No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”
Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”
No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”
Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”
Alternatives List:
Betrayal
Aftermath of Failure
Brass Knuckles
Decoy
Body Modification
Playing Cards
Examination
Hunting
Drugging
Shaking
Panic
Broken
Miscommunication
Lab Rat
Reluctant Whumper
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.
The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!
In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)
#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?
You can create something based on:
The overall theme/lyric of the day
Prompt 1, 2 or 3
One or several of the alternative prompts
A combination of the above
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.
Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?
No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?
Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box.
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Damage done
Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully
Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts
Word count: 4K
A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌
It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.
So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.
It was about the play at Sarah’s school.
“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”
“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”
You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.
You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.
“It’s your kid, Joel–”
“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”
“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”
“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.
“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”
“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”
“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.
“No, you’re not.”
“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.
It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.
Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.
Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…
Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.
“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.
He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.
Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.
You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.
“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, you didn’t…”
“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”
Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.
But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”
He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.
“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”
He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.
“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”
A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.
“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”
You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.
“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”
“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”
Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.
Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”
“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”
You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.
“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”
His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.
Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.
You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.
“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”
“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”
You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.
And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.
“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”
“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.
“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.
“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”
Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.
“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”
He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.
Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.
Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.
You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.
Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.
“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.
And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.
You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…
You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.
You couldn’t lose him.
“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”
You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”
You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.
“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”
“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”
He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.
“What can I do?”
That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.
“What?”
“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.
“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”
Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.
“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”
The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.
“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.
“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”
You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”
“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”
You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.
His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.
“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.
“I want to take care of you.”
“But your back pains…”
“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”
His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.
He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.
But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.
“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.
“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.
“Can you… can you hold me?”
Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.
Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.
You knew you were safe with Joel.
It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.
Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.
But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.
And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.
When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.
“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.
He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#joel miller x y/n#tlou hbo#young joel miller#sarah miller#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
stalemate
pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
words: 7.2k
summary: Frankie Morales is your best friend — until a drunken hookup tears you apart.
warnings: 18+ minors dni; friends -> enemies -> lovers, TF characters without the TF plot, no Tom (in this house we hate Tom), alcohol consumption, smoking, angst, jealousy, pining, Frankie & reader being idiots in love, explicit smut, size kink, brief mentions of drunk sex, bad / regretful sex (between reader & OC), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (bebita, querida, baby, etc.), grilled cheese as a love language, happy ending, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!
a/n: thank you so much to @javisashtray & @pedgito for beta-reading this for me <3 this is for all my frankie lovers out there (aka bitches with good taste). dividers are by cafekitsune. follow @joelscurlsupdates for fic notifications! enjoy :)
Frankie Morales makes the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had. Perfectly golden bread; gooey, melty cheese — just the thought of it makes you drool. He says he has a secret ingredient. Won’t let you in the kitchen while he cooks for you, lest you find out.
Sometimes, upon entering his apartment, you can already smell melted butter. He’ll have started on one without even asking if you want it. He knows you always do.
Sit, he’ll shout from the other room. I’ll be right there. Feel free to put something on — but please, not 13 Going on 30. You’ll thank him and question his distaste for Mark Ruffalo in the same breath: you’re the best, but it’s not my fault Matty is the dream man.
He’ll bring you the wafting plate along with a Corona, and insist that you eat before it goes cold while he makes one for himself. Ever the gentleman, ever the friend — at least he was.
Because the two of you haven’t spoken in a month; not since the drunken hookup that you’re both pretending didn’t happen.
You’d laughed the entire cab ride home from the bar. That last round of tequila shots had left you feeling good, all warm and giggly, and Frankie mirrored you in the backseat with his drunken grin. Eyes glassy, lips pulled wide, he’d smacked you lightly on the shoulder as you recalled Santiago’s pitiful loss in that third game of pool. “When he pocketed the eight-ball…” he trailed off into another fit of laughter.
“And then—“ you attempted, voice caught in your throat as another giggle barreled out. “—the cue hitting his drink!” Your entire body folded over, hands braced on Frankie’s thighs as the two of you struggled to regain composure. Through labored breaths, you squealed. “He’s never going to live that down!”
After a few particularly stressful months at work, you lived for these nights out with your friends. You’d met Frankie through your best friend Mal, who was dating his friend Benny, and your circles had eventually meshed into one. Sometimes it felt like it had always been that way, like you’d known the guys your entire life.
Especially Frankie.
Your friendship was a special one — punctuated by frequent trips to the movies to watch the latest horrible slasher film; by nights spent yapping on the phone about nothing in particular. He’d become a constant in your life. Never, in your right mind, would you even dream of doing anything to jeopardize that—
“You look really hot tonight, by the way.”
He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have. But then it was you who leaned in closer, you who rested your hand on his hip and plucked the Standard Heating Oil cap off his head, placing it atop your own.
It was you who kissed him first.
He deepened it though — that was all him — large, restless hands grasping at your sides, your back, your face; tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to press against yours. He’d groaned into your mouth when the cab stopped at the curb in front of your building. Cursed under his breath when you pulled away.
And then, your voice ragged and breathless, you’d asked, “do you want to come in for a bit?”
It was a mistake. A horrible, blissful mistake. Waking up with sticky thighs and Frankie’s thumbprint bruised into your hip, you’d found his side of the bed cold; your inbox empty. He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. Still hasn’t.
The aftermath is cursory glances. Half-assed greetings and pleasantries murmured across the bar. Which you don’t mind, really. You don’t want to speak to him. He’d probably just feed you some lie about losing track of time, not remembering what happened that night.
You wish you could forget it.
The visual is fuzzy; fleeting. But his voice — god, his voice — it still rings in your ears, drips at the nape of your neck like a leaking tap: fuck, baby, knew you’d take my cock; feel so good wrapped around me.
Your friends don’t know. They can’t; they wouldn’t let you live it down. Benny has made plenty of offhand comments already about you and Frankie being perfect for each other, having the same stubborn disposition. Mal does nothing to shut him up. Instead, she encourages him. Tells him he’s so right.
You’re pretty sure your eyeballs are going to fall out someday from glaring too hard.
Because you’re not perfect for each other — far from it, actually. Fuck, you can’t even communicate effectively. How could you ever be in a real relationship?
Not that you want that. Frankie is…well, Frankie. Sure, he’d felt undeniably incredible on top of you, inside of you — but he isn’t the type to settle down. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Frankie talk about dating.
Besides, he’s clearly not interested in being anyone’s anything right now. Not even your friend.
It hurts; cuts deeper than you care to admit. Just weeks ago, you’d spent an entire weekend at his place, marathoning the X Files and gorging on cold pizza. Now, he won’t even look your way for more than a few seconds.
Won’t make you a fucking grilled cheese.
It’s a Friday night, which means you’re meeting your friends at Sid’s. The glow of neon seeping through the windows of the old dive bar is warm and inviting as you step out of your rideshare and make your way toward the doors.
Frankie is sitting at the bar with Santiago when you enter. Hunched shoulders, narrowed eyes trained on his bottle of Corona, he appears detached from whatever Santi is saying to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you stroll up to them — not until his friend’s hand lands hard on his back, pulling his attention away from the beer. He offers a half-assed hello and an even more half-assed half-hug, and then he’s sliding back onto his barstool.
Ever-oblivious, Santiago doesn’t seem to notice the way Frankie curls in on himself; the way your back is up like an agitated cat’s.
Mal and Benny turn up minutes later, immediately ordering a round of shots for the group. You down the liquor eagerly, not bothering to lean on salt and lime to numb the sting. You want to feel it. You order another before joining Mal and the guys at a pool table in the back, letting the acid slide down your throat with no more than a wince as Santi racks the balls.
“Alright Fish, you’re up,” he says. “Me and you. Whoever loses buys the next round.”
You watch as Frankie quirks a brow at him. Takes a swig of his beer. “You sure you want to make that bet, Pope?”
Santi grins; nods confidently. “Hell yeah, I do.” The rest of you don’t bother to suppress your laughter. You catch a glimpse of Frankie, head thrown back, his broad, glistening neck exposed, and you have to fight to ignore the sudden panging in your chest.
When Santi inevitably loses, you order a vodka soda. You’re already feeling a bit tipsy after two shots in less than twenty minutes, so the drink goes down smooth; quick. There’s a rush to your head as you settle back at the bar and fiddle with the wrapper to your straw, letting the slightly soggy paper roll between two fingers.
You barely notice when Frankie slots in a few seats down, your attention drawn only when you hear his voice. It’s deep — sounds just like it did when he had his chest pressed to your back in the dim light of your bedroom — and his intonation nearly gives you whiplash.
When you snap your head up to look at him, you find he’s speaking to a woman. Her back is turned to you, long, dark hair tossed over her shoulder and her elbow resting casually on the bartop, but you imagine she must be beautiful by the way Frankie is visibly fawning over her. You’re staring, you hear her tease. Can’t help it, comes his reply.
Something like discomfort builds in your throat. Rises up up up. You take a long sip of your drink, letting vodka and sugar push it down.
You’ve never seen Frankie flirt with anyone, apart from you. It’s strangely unsettling, listening to him smooth-talk her. I’m a pilot, you know, he brags; could take you up in the sky someday if you wanted. Her giddy squeal comes seconds later; really? You’d do that for me?
You feel bad for her. She doesn’t know yet that all he’ll do is disappoint her.
He feeds her lines as you sip on your drink, citrus and grain burning only when he tells her: yeah, I came with friends; they’re all over there. Gestures toward Benny, Mal and Santi standing around the pool table in the back.
Scoffing, you stand from your seat at the bar and retreat to the patio. You don’t bother to check if Frankie is looking.
It’s cooler here, a sobering breeze carrying salt air with it as it wafts by. A few patrons have spilled outside, most smoking on faintly glowing cigarettes as they talk and laugh boisterously among themselves. You’d planned to sit alone, to plant yourself on a bench and enjoy your drink in solitude. But then a stranger is approaching you — a man, cigarette grasped between two of his fingers — and he’s asking you for a light.
He’s in his mid thirties, if you had to guess. Curly, dark hair sprouts every which way from his scalp; rounded, green eyes studying you as he awaits a response. He’s tall, though not as tall as Frankie. His shoulders aren’t nearly as broad and his chest isn’t quite as wide. His t-shirt hangs loose around his torso, swallowing his narrow frame — dissimilar to the way Frankie’s button-down clings to him.
Then again — why are you even comparing? Maybe the opposite of Frankie is exactly what you need.
You’ll have to seduce this stranger first, though. Not that it seems like it’ll be very difficult. His eyes are already raking over you, lips turned up at the corner as you take a casual sip of your drink.
“I don’t smoke,” you admit apologetically.
“Ah — that’s alright.”
He has an accent; midwestern, maybe? You don’t bother to ask. You don’t care, really. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is—
“You here all by yourself?”
“Yeah,” he laughs at your lack of subtlety. “Are you?”
“No,” you say. “My friends are inside.” Lowering your voice, you add, “but I was thinking about leaving soon.”
“Why’s that? Early morning tomorrow?”
You shake your head. Rub at your neck as if working out a knot, a contented hum pushing past your lips at the press of fingers into skin. Your stranger’s eyes trail rather conspicuously downward.
“Just over it,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I’d much rather be home…in bed…out of these clothes.”
You pull gently at the strap of your dress, as if you can’t bear the sensation of it against your shoulder any longer.
Your stranger’s gaze darkens, and the grip on his box of cigarettes grows tighter.
“You uh — want some company — once I find a light?”
Too fucking easy.
“Sure,” you giggle.
He slips away only for a minute or two, giving you just enough time to second-guess yourself. You know nothing about this man, not even his name; only that he smokes American Spirits and smells like tobacco. Should you really go home with him?
But then you think of Frankie inside — talking up a woman at the bar, pretending that you don’t exist — and that just about makes up your mind for you.
Your stranger reappears, now-lit cigarette dangling from his lips. The tip of it rages red and angry, and you think you know how that feels.
He smirks at you as he stuffs the pack into the front pocket of his jeans. An unceremonious silence hangs in the air as he sucks on the filter and puffs out a string of smoke. You wait patiently for him, quietly.
He snuffs the butt of his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. Takes your empty cup and discards that too.
Can’t wait to get you home, he whispers in your ear then. You feign arousal, peering up at him and batting your eyelashes. Me neither, you mewl. Let’s go.
You lead him back through the bar, finding Mal and letting her know that you’ll be going. She seems a little perplexed, quirking a brow at you as you grip tightly onto your stranger’s arm, but she tells you to have fun anyway. Text me, she mouths as you make your way to the exit.
You only get a few feet, though, before you’re intercepted.
Frankie is blocking the door, arms crossed, a panic-stricken look on his face that you can’t quite comprehend. “Hey,” he says, “can I talk to you real quick?”
Your stranger backs off. Lets go of your arm and starts out the door. “I’ll wait outside,” he says, slipping away with a wink before you can protest.
The bar is bustling with noise, people in every corner drinking and laughing and dancing. Strangely, though, you’ve never felt so alone. So vulnerable. And you hate that Frankie has this power over you, the innate ability to make you feel so fucking small. It’s infuriating, it’s—
“Are you sure you want to leave with him?”
“Excuse me?” you scoff.
Frankie stares you down, face red, eyes inky-black. “You don’t know this guy, do you? What if he’s a murderer or something? Or like — a pervert?”
He’s grasping at straws, you know it. It’s why you laugh; roll your eyes.
“What are you, my keeper?”
“No, it’s just — I’m just concerned for your safety, okay?”
You’re briefly stunned. After weeks of ignoring you, he cares about your wellbeing? How can he be so hypocritical?
“I’m fine,” you bite back. “Why don’t you go back to your girl at the bar? Worry about getting yourself some instead?”
He’s wounded, if only slightly. His lips part like he might retaliate, but he’s silent. Dejected. Satisfied, you brush past him. March out the door without so much as a parting glance.
Finding your stranger leaning against the bar’s brick exterior, you force a smile. He outstretches a hand and you take it, reluctantly. “Ready to go?” he asks.
You’re not so sure anymore, but you nod anyway. Squeeze your stranger’s bicep and preen under his lustful gaze when he tenses in your grip. “Yeah,” you purr. “I’m ready.”
Cold air bites at your toes the following morning. It wakes you from a deep slumber; bitterly pulls you into consciousness. Confused, you yank at the covers. But a mysterious weight holds them in place, and only then do you remember then that you’re not alone.
Eyes sliding open reluctantly, you scan the room. Your dress from the night before is draped over the chair in the corner, your stranger’s clothes piled up on the floor nearby. He snores next to you, an arm raising to hang above his head, and you shift. Slip out of bed and pull a t-shirt on before padding into the bathroom.
Early morning light spills across tile, bounces off the mirror above the sink. You squint, shuffling over to the window and yanking the blinds closed. Then you check for damage in your reflection. Your makeup from the night before has stained your cheeks and your eyes look as tired as you feel, but otherwise there appears to be no physical evidence of your rock bottom.
The sex wasn’t great — not even good, really. Your stranger had lasted all of three minutes, had fanned his hot breath across the shell of your ear as he came, and then collapsed on top of you. Rolled over and drifted to sleep. He’d started snoring before you could even process what had just happened.
Cold water splashed across your cheeks does nothing to cool the burn of regret that scorches your skin. You feel uncomfortable, almost as if your body is tainted, now, remnants of your stranger leaking from between your thighs as you steady yourself at the edge of the sink.
He must’ve heard the tap, or maybe the pounding in your chest, because he emerges seconds later. He yawns and stretches, feline-like, in the doorway. “Hey,” he mutters. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good,” you say, eyes twitching slightly as you will them to stay put above his waistline.
“You always up this early?”
You nod. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that you’d nearly jumped out of bed at the sight of him still there. He doesn’t need to know that for a split second, you’d almost hoped it was Frankie.
He asks if you want to get breakfast. You shake your head in faux-sympathy. “Sorry, can’t. I was hoping to get some cleaning done.”
“I could stick around and help,” he offers.
Jesus Christ. Just take the fucking hint.
“That’s so nice of you; I’m just more efficient by myself,” you lie again.
If Frankie were here, he’d grab the cleaning rags out of the closet just off the kitchen. He knows where they’re kept: second shelf, on the left. He’d wipe down the counters and the coffee table while you’d work on clearing dishes, disposing of pizza scraps. And he’d probably put on his dad-rock playlist — against your wishes — though you’d inevitably find yourself dancing to Foo Fighters and giggling when he’d sing along and mess up the words.
It begins to sink in then, as you shoo your stranger, now dressed, out the door, that your attempt to use sex as a way to get Frankie out of your head was useless. He’s still there, refusing quite adamantly to budge, all mussed curls and big eyes and deep voice. There’s no evidence that he’ll be leaving any time soon.
The revelation renders you nauseous. You spend the rest of the day with a hangover that you’re sure has not been induced by alcohol. And by the time night falls, darkness descending over your bedroom like a fog, you still feel sick.
A week later, you drag yourself to Benny and Mal’s for their monthly game night. You’d tried to get out of it, told Mal you haven’t been feeling great — which isn't a total lie — but she’d begged you until you broke.
Will is coming, and it’ll be the first time we’ve all gotten together in over a year, she’d whined through the receiver.
And then-
I know things were weird between you and Frankie last time at the bar, but you can’t let that stop us from seeing each other.
How do you know that, you’d asked, chewing on your bottom lip, the phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder.
He basically moped around the rest of the night after you left. Kept bitching about you leaving with that guy. He seemed really…agitated. You don’t have to tell me what happened, just please don’t bail.
So you’re here, steeling yourself as you climb the steps to the front door, hoping that if nothing else, you can make it through the night without strangling Frankie for his lack of discretion.
You enter the house with baited breath.
Your eyes immediately catch Frankie, tucked into the corner of the sectional, fingers wrapped tightly around his beer. He meets your gaze briefly before letting it slip to the floor by his feet, as if he’s trying to pretend he hasn’t seen you at all.
“Hi,” you try.
He looks back up at you, or rather past you. Taps his fingers along the bottle for a long moment. “Hey,” he says finally, to the wall behind your head.
“How have you been?” the words come out forced, almost foreign. You shift your weight awkwardly and he sighs.
“Fine. I’m fine.”
“Right,” you mutter. More silence. “Me too, in case you were wondering.”
“Good,” he says, voice cold. “That’s good.”
You’re not sure whether you want to slap him or kiss him. Because as infuriating as he’s being right now, he looks gorgeous, denim shirt hugging his biceps, his shoulders; stray curls peaking out from under that stupid Standard Heating Oil hat. You yearn to rip it off his head, run your fingers through his hair, nip along the sharp line of his jaw; the broad expanse of his neck.
You long to feel something other than the prominent ache that’s permeated your body for weeks, now. And you fear that he’s the only one who’d be able to alleviate it.
Your mouth opens again just as Benny emerges from the kitchen. Whatever words you were about to utter are lost in the ether as he pulls you into a suffocating hug and thanks you for coming.
“Mal’s in the kitchen,” he says. Grabs a handful of Lays from a bowl on the coffee table and shovels them into his mouth. Still chewing, he adds, “we got those wine coolers you like; they’re in the fridge.”
With a hurried thanks, you slip away unscathed.
You find Mal crouched in front of the open fridge, rustling through a produce drawer stocked with beer cans.
“Hey,” you announce.
She seems almost surprised to see you when she cranes her neck toward your voice, despite your promise to show. Eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape, it’s as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She pulls another drawer open. Fishes out a wine cooler and passes it to you with an outstretched arm.
You take it in one hand. Help her up with the other.
“You’re here,” she says, and it sounds like more of a question than a statement.
“Yeah. I said I would be.”
“I know, I know. It’s just — I wasn’t sure. The whole Frankie thing…”
“It’s nothing; I promise,” you lie. “Water under the bridge. We’re fine.”
She quirks a brow at you, disbelief coloring her features, but she lets it go. Closes the fridge with a thunk and adjusts her sweater at the hem. “Good,” she says. “I don’t want you two ruining game night.”
It’s half a joke, but you know deep down she means it. She takes this all very seriously. Back in college, she’d forced you and your suitemates to play Cards Against Humanity with her every weekend. None of you had the heart to tell her when it started to grow monotonous, and so the tradition carried on well past graduation, eventually evolving into a new tradition with new friends.
Games bring people together, she’d said once over a round of Monopoly that had stretched well into the night, resulting in delirious laughter and a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.
You’d believed her at the time. Now, you’re not so sure that it’s foolproof.
The two of you rejoin the guys in the living room, Santiago and Will having shown up in your absence. You greet them as Benny pulls out a stack of game boxes. Settle on the couch, as far away from Frankie as you can manage.
It starts during the second round of Charades.
The first round had gone fine — good, even. Teamed up with Santi and Will, you’d avoided eye contact with Frankie for the whole of it. Focused only on guessing Santi’s horribly-mimed clues in between handfuls of trail mix and sips of watermelon-flavored bubbles.
It’d felt a bit like old times, all of you in one room again. Mal snuggling into Benny on the loveseat; Will catching his brother up on time spent touring the country, giving motivational speeches to recently discharged veterans. He’d asked you how you’ve been as Santi studied his next word, and you’d remembered then that everything was very much not how it once was.
And you hadn’t missed Frankie’s discomfort at the question; the way he set his beer bottle down on the table with a bit too much force, glass clanging against wood. Though if Will noticed too, he hadn’t said anything. Just moved into a story about some woman he met on the road that reminded him of you.
Santi’s turn had ended with a whopping zero points for your team, and now Frankie is standing at the front of the room, unfolding the scrap of paper in his hand and reading it to himself. In the lull, you find yourself staring at him, eyes near glazing over at the sight of the tiny paper pinched between long, thick fingers. Fingers you remember the reach of, the weight of.
He crumples the paper and stuffs it into his pocket, signaling that he’s ready to go. Mal flips over the sand timer on the table. And you almost don’t notice at first when he starts, mind occupied by equal parts lust and annoyance, that he’s fucking mouthing the phrase.
You watch, enraged, as Benny squints to read his lips. He raises his hand excitedly and jumps to his feet; yells out the answer with a sureness that Frankie affirms with a nod.
“That’s right. It’s the Empire State Building.”
“That’s fucking cheating!” you shout, a bit angrier than the situation calls for, and the room grows quiet. Fury coursing through you, you add, “are you fucking serious, Frankie?”
You feel the eyes on you; the awkward sheen you’ve cast over the room. Mal shifts across from you, glaring when you turn to face her, and you laugh defensively.
“What, nobody else thinks that’s unfair?”
“Please,” Frankie sneers.
“No, she’s right,” Santi tries — ever the peacemaker. “We’ll just add a rule going forward; no mouthing the words.”
“Fuck that,” you hiss. “I want their point taken away.”
Frankie scoffs from the other side of the room. “Bullshit! We earned that before the rule was added.”
You’re fuming now, standing to get a bit closer to his height; though he still towers over you. Mal is right on your heels, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to placate you. You brush her off. Take another stride toward Frankie.
“There shouldn’t need to be an official rule against it, Frankie. It’s common fucking sense — which clearly, you have none of.”
Visibly offended, he says nothing. Just tenses his jaw.
“Why did you come tonight?” you continue, voice more level now; direct.
You hear your name uttered behind you, tone pleading, warning. You ignore it.
“Seriously, why?”
He’s quiet for a long, drawn-out moment, eyes pointed at the floor again.
“What are you talking about?” he spits, finally.
You laugh, amused and irritated, and these things somehow feel one in the same. “I mean, clearly you don’t want to be in my presence or even acknowledge my existence — unless it’s to cockblock me — so why are you here?”
His brows furrow; lips twist. For a second, you think he might actually leave. He adjusts his cap, jangles the car key in his pocket — but Benny stops him before he can take a step.
“Just — cut it out, okay? Both of you.”
“He’s the one-“
“I don’t care,” Benny interjects. Scanning the room, you catch sight of Santi and Will and Mal, all visibly agitated, and you sigh.
Guilt washes over you, then. The twisting of Santi’s face, Mal’s doleful stare, the wordless look exchanged between Benny and Will. All confirm your fear that you’ve effectively ruined their night.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble.
Frankie echoes your apology. Still, the others aren’t impressed.
“I don’t know what’s been going on lately with you two, but you need to figure this shit out,” Benny says. He sounds like a parent: stern and slightly disappointed. “Can you please just — go in the other room and talk through it?”
Though you haven’t much cared for Frankie’s opinion as of late, you still turn to him to gauge his reaction. He appears just as hesitant as you are, just as guilt-stricken. But something more lurks behind his eyes — something like fear, anxiety. Why, you aren’t sure.
You raise a brow at him, a wordless question. He answers with a sigh.
“Fine,” you both say at once.
“Thank goodness,” Mal chimes. Herding you two like cattle with a hand on each of your backs, she leads you out of the living room and into the adjoining hallway.
Her voice drones behind you as you make your way toward the third door on the right. Shall we continue the game?
The guest room is primly kept. It appears almost untouched at first glance, though you know that to be untrue. You’ve stayed here before, after blurry nights spent drinking shitty gin and singing karaoke. That must’ve been years ago now, though, after Mal and Benny first bought this house, and you begin to wonder if your tumultuous friendship with Frankie only made you neglect your friendship with her. And that only adds to the anger stirring inside of you — because what was it all worth, if it’s ended up like this?
Frankie closes the door behind him with a click, and the air in the room feels exponentially thicker.
“What the fuck was that?” you hiss.
He scoffs. “Me? You’re the one who freaked out and started an argument over nothing!”
“It wasn’t nothing. You were cheating.”
“Please.” He rolls his eyes. Takes two steps toward you. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”
“Oh,” you laugh, “so you are aware that you’ve been an asshole?”
He says your name, voice suddenly lower, softer. Your entire body tenses as you struggle to keep strong, to not think about how it sounded in your ear in the midst of pleasure.
“I wasn’t trying to be-”
You throw a hand up; silence him. “Well you have been,” you groan. “You’ve been a huge fucking asshole. You hurt me, Frankie. You were my best friend, and then you just��� stopped returning my texts. You won’t even look at me when we’re in the same room together. Did you regret it that much?”
The room goes still. You watch as Frankie’s chest rises and falls arduously, his eyes settling on you. They’re dark, pupils blown wide, squeezing shut as he exhales long and hard.
“No.”
You quirk a brow at him, confused.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats, averting his gaze. “And that’s the problem — I didn’t regret it at all.” His eyes lift slowly, finding you again, voice more sure when he adds, “I’ve wanted it for a long time”
You can barely comprehend what he’s saying, your heart climbing its way out of your ribcage and up your throat. You gulp, feeling the shape of it there as saliva slowly slides past.
He takes another two steps forward, mere inches from you now, and your breath hitches.
“Do you know how difficult it’s been to look at you without getting fucking hard?” he whispers. “How many times I’ve fucked my fist in the past month imagining it was you?”
Your mouth falls open, stunned. “That girl at the bar-”
He shakes his head. “I thought maybe if I fucked someone else, it would help.”
“And did it?”
“I didn’t — I didn’t go home with her,” he admits, a little bashfully. “I couldn’t do it.”
His hand lifts, then, cautious and shaky. It finds its way to your face, grazes your jaw so softly you’d think you imagined it if you couldn’t see.
“Why not?” you squeak.
He nods, as if he’s finally accepting something he’s known to be true, admitting it to himself before he does so out loud.
“Because she wasn’t you.”
It feels as if your entire world has spun on its axis.
Without thinking, you wrap your hand around Frankie’s neck and pull him toward you, crashing your lips into his with a groan. He’s quick to respond, desperately tangling his fingers in your hair and winding his tongue around yours, a broken moan slipping from his throat.
For a long moment, that’s all it is. It’s clashing teeth and restless hands; the draw of blood and the taste of it, earthy and metallic on your tongue. It’s the two of you, reconciling for lost time and unshared feelings and the overlooked need for each other through tangled bodies.
And when you finally pull apart, his lips are swollen and his eyes are glazed over, and you’re sure you don’t look much different.
“Frankie,” you whine as his mouth latches to your neck, warm and wet. He doesn’t retreat; just hums against you.
“Need you,” you say breathlessly. “Need you to touch me.”
His large hand skates down your front, under the waistband of your leggings. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, and your knees buckle. You lean into him, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest as he begins rubbing small, deliberate circles into cotton.
Lips trailing up to your ear, he nibbles at the lobe. Presses his tongue just behind the shell of it and sighs. “Been wanting this since that night. Want to make you feel good. Want to do it right.”
You mewl in response, high-pitched and too loud, and you have to bite into his shoulder to keep from crying out again. He’s still working you toward the brink, pace relentless, beseeching you every time you buck into his hand.
There you go baby, that’s it; I got you.
You know he does, can feel the support of his unoccupied hand at the small of your back, holding you to his strong body. And god, how you’ve missed the feeling of it pressed to yours. You think that that alone could make you come.
You feel yourself slipping as your orgasm approaches, legs slumping underneath you more and more with every pass of his fingers. “Frankie,” you warn, teeth still anchored in his skin. “I’m going to-“
The words are muffled, but he gets it. Presses down harder and works his fingers faster. “Come on baby,” he growls in your ear, “come on.”
Your orgasm hits you so hard that you collapse, your body dead weight in Frankie’s grip as you writhe. He grasps onto you tightly, working you through it with his unyielding touch, swiping back and forth, back and forth as the final waves crest.
You’re panting when it ends, and still when Frankie helps you to the edge of the bed. Perched there, staring up at him with glassy eyes, you realize you’ve never felt so sated and so needy at the same time.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Please fuck me.”
He should probably say no. After all, you’re in your friends’ guest room, people just a few hundred feet on the other side of the door. But then again, he’s already made you come.
You watch him consider it, eyes flickering to the door and back to you, dark and deep and pooling with want.
In the end, he can’t help himself.
“Can you be quiet, querida?”
You nod, though you’re sure that even if you said no, he wouldn’t care. He’d do just as he’s doing now: pressing your shoulder, encouraging you to lay down on the bed; helping you pull your sneakers off, then your leggings, then your shirt; stepping back to marvel at your half-naked form before him.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your entire body heats from the inside out. You feel like you’re on fire, his stare keeping you alight as he undresses down to his boxers.
He climbs over you with a hand on either side of your head, pressed into the mattress. The lip of his hat bumps you, and you immediately rip it off of him, tossing it aside and tangling your fingers in dark curls.
You tug at them, dragging him down until his face is hovering just above yours, and he responds with a strangled moan. His body pressed to yours now, you can feel the weight of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. Your mouth finds his again in a languid kiss — slow and deep. You feed each other sighs and moans, taste each other’s longing. His hips roll into yours with every exhale, teasing you — reminding you, and you feel like you’re steadily going insane.
He pulls back, panting. Rests his forehead on yours.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at the strap of your bra. You nod furiously. Lift the upper half of your body so that he can undo the clasps.
Breasts suddenly exposed, you feel your nipples begin to harden. Frankie groans at the sight of them, so pert and needing. Wordlessly, he dips his head, buries his face in your chest. His tongue wraps around one of your nipples and you cry out, hand flying to your mouth in an instant.
“Oh fuck,” you moan into your palm.
“Feel good?” he asks, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shifts his focus to the other nipple. You feel so sensitive everywhere, the heft of his tongue going straight to your clit, and you can barely answer him. A shaky yes tumbles from your mouth — the best you can do. He hums, so low the vibrations burrow under your skin and barrel through you, and you keen at the sensation.
“God, you sound so pretty,” he sighs as he rolls one of your stiff peaks between two fingers. His other hand drifts down your body, dips between the two of you and pulls your panties aside.
“Fuck,” he curses, fingertip brushing over your seam just barely. “You’re soaked, bebita. That all for me?”
“Mhm,” you whine. “All for you Frankie; fuck-“
He’s shifts down your body, hooks both arms under your legs and drags you toward him in one swift motion, leaving you no time to process before his tongue is on your pussy. “Have to taste you,” he babbles drunkenly, plunging into your leaking cunt and lapping at you.
“Oh, oh shit,” you moan as he drags his tongue up to your clit. “Please baby, please.”
“I know; I got you,” he soothes. Then he begins to lave your clit with the soft flat of his tongue, warm muscle encircling the throbbing nub. Wide eyes staring up at you, he observes intently. Responds to every sound, every tell with a switch in direction or an increase in pressure. He’s so attentive, so desperate to make you come on his mouth, and it sends you into a sort of delirium.
Your second orgasm hits you out of nowhere, slams through your body with so much intensity, you don’t even have the strength to warn Frankie before your release is gushing all over his face and, undoubtedly, the bed below.
He growls against your cunt. Comes up for air and kisses you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he tugs his boxers down and frees his aching cock. Notches at your entrance without detaching his lips from yours.
It’s a stretch — you recall it being so last time too — though the alcohol had done wonders to loosen your body. Now, you feel every devastating inch of him as he pushes in. He’s gentle. Tells you how good you’re doing as he feeds you more and more of his cock. There you go, that’s my girl, taking it so well for me. And for some reason, him calling you his nearly makes you come again.
He notices the way you preen in response. Thumbs across the slope of your jaw as he settles inside you. “You like that, baby? Like me calling you mine?”
“Yes, Frankie — fuck. Want it.”
You don’t specify whether you mean him or his cock. You’re not entirely sure. Not that it matters. You know he’ll give you both, give you anything. Can feel it in the way he gazes at you through heart-shaped eyes as he lets you adjust to him.
“So fucking beautiful, you know that?”
Your eyes roll back and saliva pools in your mouth. “God,” you breathe.
“I’m serious,” he says, finally beginning to move. The slow drag of his cock brushes your g-spot and you gasp. “Was so stupid before, fucking you drunk. Wanna remember every second, every noise you make, every inch of your perfect fucking body.”
“Jesus, Frankie.”
He pushes back in with one deep thrust. Sets a pace that, while not rough, definitely isn’t gentle. You begin to babble and writhe under him. Hook your legs around him so he can get even deeper.
He groans. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
“It’s so fucking good,” you cry. “Feels like fucking heaven, Frankie.”
“Nah, that’s you.” He lets his head fall on your shoulder, drives into you faster. Pants into the crook of your neck. “Perfect fucking pussy.”
It ends all too quickly — with your fingernails dug into his back and his sweaty curls sticking to your forehead. Your cunt clenching around his cock, pulling his orgasm out of him just as yours begins to roll through you. You free fall from the cliff’s edge together, breathless moans spilling between your slotted mouths, his warmth flooding you and leaking from the place you’re still connected.
As the room around you slowly comes back into focus, you hear the sound of distant laughter. Benny’s boisterous chuckle and Mal’s much softer one. Clearly distracted, they’re likely blissfully unaware of what’s just happened. You giggle, covering your face as Frankie pulls out.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, prying your hands away.
“We’re gonna have to get them a new bedspread. We just defiled this one.”
He stands, then, pulling you upright with him. You squeal as blood rushes to your head and your vision goes staticky.
“Worth it,” he smirks. Gives you a chaste kiss. “Got my girl back.”
You dress and rejoin the group as inconspicuously as possible. Pray they don’t notice the way you’re wobbling on your feet, or the sheen of sweat that’s coated your skin.
“You sort everything out?” Santi smirks knowingly as you reassume your place on the couch, Frankie settling back into the corner.
“Yeah,” he mutters, refusing to make eye contact.
“It’s about time,” Benny shouts from the kitchen. Frankie’s head shoots up, pivots toward his voice.
“What do you mean?”
He emerges in the doorway with a shit-eating grin. Mal stifles a laugh from the loveseat.
“Just saying it’s about time,” he shrugs. “That’s all.”
Shit; apparently you hadn’t been as quiet as you thought.
The others chuckle as you and Frankie exchange a mortified look. The embarrassment is short lived though, Will clapping his hands together, asking what game you all want to play next.
An hour later, after a couple rounds of Codenames and another wine cooler, you head out the door with Frankie right beside you. It feels odd, not hiding anymore. But more so, it feels right.
He leans you against your SUV under silver moonlight. Kisses you with plush, soft lips against yours; restless hands roving up your sides. Pulls back with a suspiciously large grin.
You cock an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says. “Just glad I stopped being an idiot.”
“I don’t know about that,” you tease, and he smacks you gently on the arm.
“Come over?” he asks, his hand draped over your waist.
You think on it for only a second. Nod. “Yeah. As long as you make me a grilled cheese.”
“That can be arranged.”
end notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider commenting and/or reblogging :)
#Frankie Morales#Frankie Morales x reader#Frankie Morales x f!reader#Frankie Morales x female reader#Frankie Morales fic#Frankie Morales smut#Frankie Morales fanfiction#Triple Frontier#Triple Frontier fic#Triple Frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
WHAT THE VENUS SIGNS REMIND ME OF
🩷Oddly specific things I think about when I hear ______ venus
Aries Venus: Summer, rubies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, rollercoasters, fast cars, the color red, vampire fangs, Saturday nights, liquor stores and gas stations, fireworks, sour candy, cool bic lighters, “you’re mine”, Mario Kart, boys who wear nail polish, fuck it energy, oversized sweatshirts, middle finger emoji, cherries
Taurus Venus: Satin pillowcases, white candles, pearls, mirrors, hand holding, walking someone home at night, vinyls, red lipstick, full lips, fancy dinner dates, the wine and dine, old romantic movies, wallets and purses, hotels, French manicures, old money, “I won’t get on my knees for no man”
Gemini Venus: Driving around at night listening to music, reading to someone, comedy shows, mimosas, Samantha from Sex and the City, libraries, nerd kink, hot teachers/student kink, emerald green, laughter, swing sets, looking out of the window and just watching, untied shoelaces, dogs and puppies, dad jokes
Cancer Venus: Soft feather pillows, a bowl of warm soup, a bubble bath, tears and running mascara, babies and how babies laugh, poetry, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, hot tubs, hot coffee, teddy bears, heartbeats, soft hands & skin, lotion, bagels and cream cheese, doodling in your journal
Leo Venus: Lip gloss, mojitos, getting drunk at brunch, diamond tennis bracelets, drunk texts you regret sending later, the block button, lonely nights, shooting stars, blowing bubbles, piggy back rides, art museums, glittery eyeshadow, jumparoos, birthday parties
Virgo Venus: Taking a shower, Dove soap, smooth skin, symmetry, butterflies, the smell of books, getting a facial or going to the spa, chicken caesar salads, the good tasting water, chunky headphones, acoustic guitar, running errands, getting your eyebrows done, neat handwriting, neutral colors, sushi
Libra Venus: Blush, dimples, Y2K fashion, Hello Kitty, makeup skills, those little hand mirrors, princes and princesses, cupcakes, pedicures, Margaritas, taking pictures, art, castles, Disney movies, daisies, spin the bottle, cartwheels, soft hair, bubblegum, skincare, watermelon and pineapple
Scorpio Venus: Psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, Kings & Queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, Avril Lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history
Sagittarius Venus: Clouds, rock climbing, rappers, Hip Hop and R&B, going on vacation, açaí bowls and fresh fruit, sun kissed/radiant skin, the color yellow, retreats, history, yoga and Pilates, spicy food, “it is what it is”, curly hair, the smell of weed, casinos, the last day of school, Las Vegas
Capricorn Venus: Leather, red wine, the cow pattern, cowgirl boots, the color brown, espresso, dark chocolate, briefcase of money like in the movies, the movie Scarface, whiskey on the rocks, bosses, owls, turtle necks, caramel, wearing suits, lingerie, business, New York City
Aquarius Venus: Lightbulbs, telescopes and microscopes, LED lights, hamsters, college parties, glitter, peace signs, 70s concerts, food trucks, skipping school, “fuck it”, diving in the pool, the beach at night, disco balls, getting detentions in school
Pisces Venus: Mermaids, kittens, cartoons and Disney princesses, champagne, Webkinz, little kid stories like Goldilocks, 3 Little Pigs, Hansel and Gretel, clear glittery lip gloss, holographic, snowmen and icicles, swimming in the pool, flower gardens, glow sticks , picnics, bumblebees, sand castles, elementary art class, 3D movies
Book a Reading 🩷
Masterlist 🩷
#astrology#astro#astro observations#astrology community#astro community#sagittarius#scorpio#leo#cancer#venus signs#venus#Leo venus#Aries venus#Taurus venus#Scorpio venus
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape
Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.
♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.
♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.
♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”
♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.
♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.
♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.
♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.
♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.
♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.
♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.
♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.
♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.
♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.
♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.
♡ That, and…
♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.
♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”
♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.
♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.
♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.
♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.
♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.
♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin.
♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue.
♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Yandere AI Masterlist
Masterpost
AO3
Wattpad
#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere smut#tw yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere blog#yancore#yanderecore#reader insert#original yandere#yandere drabble
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧
synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?
genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
“I have a date tomorrow guys.”
Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.
You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.
“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.
Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”
Well, you suppose you could put it that way.
You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.
“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”
Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.
But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.
“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.
Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.
See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.
You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.
What’s the worse that could happen?
( 1 day earlier )
Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.
‘The rules are simple:
You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.
MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.
NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.
Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’
Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.
After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.
SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝
5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!
Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)
Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.
$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.
You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.
Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.
Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.
“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.
You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.
“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.
“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.
“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.
Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”
“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.
He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.
The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.
The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.
For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.
Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.
“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.
Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.
He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.
“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.
Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”
“How many clients do you usually get?”
This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.
“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.
You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.
Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.
He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.
‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’
You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.
‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.
His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.
“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”
“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”
He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.
As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.
While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.
“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.
You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.
“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.
He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”
You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”
The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.
“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.
You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.
You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.
“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.
There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?
Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.
The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.
“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.
Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.
“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.
He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.
“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.
“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”
“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.
“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”
You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.
“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.
He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”
Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.
“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.
He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.
After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.
[End <3].
#skz fluff#skz x reader#changbin fluff#seo changbin fluff#stray kids imagines#skz drabbles#changbin x reader#changbin skz#changbin x female reader#seo changbin x reader#stray kids fluff#changbin scenarios#changbin drabbles#changbin imagines#skz au#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#stray kids drabbles#skz imagines
806 notes
·
View notes
Text
match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,”
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued.
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?”
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.
. . .
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . .
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?”
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . .
It was raining outside.
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.
“I study,” Y/N stated.
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.
“Okay,” Y/N nodded.
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says.
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered.
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.
The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.
“For now,” He says.
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.
. . .
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.��
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
#fic rec#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#tennisplayer!y/n#tennis rivals#writing#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#fanfiction#one direction#harry styles blog#fanfic rec
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
reader’s first time with han jisung
a/n: wrote this on my phone so bare with me if it’s shit. next will be seungmin and jeongin to complete the series.
tw: afab!reader ; virgin!reader & virgin!jisung ; foreplay ; oral (both f and m receiving) ; protected intercourse ; aftercare ;
wc: 1272 words
my masterlist. read the other scenarios here.
smut. minors dni. 18+.
you’d probably be each other’s firsts, and it’d be so freaking cute and wholesome too 🤧;
with him i feel like it’d happen spontaneously after a few months? don’t get me wrong dude’s horny but he’s also incredibly shy whenever it comes to intimacy, especially if you’re both inexperienced;
he wants you to have a good time with him and he wants to make you feel good and the fact that he doesn’t know how to kinda makes him feel insecure :( ;
so you guys would probably have looooots of foreplay during the early stages of your relationship - he wants know how to touch your body the right way and he’s so eager to learn!!!
“like this?” “you like it when i touch you here?” “how do you want me to move my fingers?”
becomes a blubbering mess when you touch him, tho - he’d moan and grunt nonstop and let’s be real, probably cums in two seconds flat the first time you go down on him 🤧 ;
i feel like your first time together would happen kind of casually, neither of you actually planned it to happen on that day, but you still were prepared - which means he’d previously bought condoms and lube ;
you had talked about it before of course, and you were on the same page about it - you wanted to sleep with each other, you just weren’t in any rush. it’ll happen when it’ll happen ;
so maybe you’re at his place on a lazy afternoon, and what’s better than eating popcorn and other junk food with your boyfriend while watching anime in bed?
but of course you can’t keep your hands to yourselves whenever you’re around each other can you?
like i said, dude’s horny and you are too, so it’s only natural ;
you’d start touching him over the clothes at first, but he’d be focused on the anime ;
you’d start by touching his arms, trying to feel them over the thick material of his hoodie, then his stomach, and then you’d sneak your hand under the piece of clothing, feeling his warm skin against yours ;
you’d move your hand up, up, up until your fingers would brush one of his nipples - he’d try his best to suppress a moan, you know he’s sensitive there :( ;
then you’d decide to tease him a lil bit by toying with the soft, curly hair of his happy trail - you do it quite often even in a non-sexual way ;
only when you slip your hand under the waistband of his pajama bottoms and underwear would he turn his head to look at you, looking extra cute with his boba eyes and round glasses ;
“you don’t like it?” he’d ask, referring to the anime you’re watching “is it boring? we can watch something else, jagi.”
“i’m just interested in something else right now,” you palm his chubby, still kind of limp dick, feeling the way it’s starting to get hard under your touch ;
the anime is soon forgotten, jisung gripping your t-shirt tight as you stroke him the way he likes it ;
he slips his own hand in your underwear, the pads of his fingers brushing all of your most sensitive spots slowly and delicately ;
“baby,” he bites on your shoulder, cock leaking so much already, “m-more, baby. need your mouth on me, baby, please. i’ll go down on you after, promise.” ;
the very thought of his mouth on you is enough to make your head spin, but you do have something else in mind ;
“i was thinking… maybe we could take things further?”
he’d be confused at first, tilting his head to the side and blinking at you - then realization would hit him ;
“oh. baby, are you… are you sure?”
“hm,” you nod, “i’ve been ready for a while i think.” he’d lowkey start to panic. you notice, of course. “i mean- we don’t have to. it was just an idea.”
“i want to,” he’d blurt out. “i want to. i really do. just- promise me you’re sure and you won’t regret it.”
“promise, baby. i could never regret anything with you.” and he’d feel instantly a lot better.
foreplay. a must. especially because he’s sure he’s gonna embarrass himself by cumming too fast. again ;
so you’d go down on him first, and he’d return the favor, eating you out sloppily, moaning against your pussy as he laps up at your arousal. crush his head between your thighs and he’ll propose to you right now. also adds his fingers to stretch you out ‘cause he doesn’t want to hurt you :( ;
the condom is a must!! especially because he’s 100% sure he’ll bust soon and you’re not on birth control yet ;
kinda doesn’t know how to put it on tho so you do it for him <3 ;
“how do you know how to put a condom on but i don’t?”
“didn’t you take sex ed at school?”
lots of goofy talk to ease the tension <3 ;
intertwines your fingers and looks into your eyes as he presses the head of his cock inside of you ;
he’s really thankful you sucked him off and made him cum before otherwise he’d have busted immediately at the feeling of how tight you are around him ;
panic washes all over him when he sees you scrunching your nose and stops even though he’s literally only halfway inside of you ;
“baby. baby? does it hurt? is it that bad?”
it doesn’t hurt, it’s just uncomfortable and unfamiliar, you expected much worse from what you’d read on those online articles. he visibly relaxes once you tell him that ;
you’d pull him closer. “how does it feel for you?”
“amazing,” he’d let out a pained whimper. “it’s wet and- and hot. like your mouth, but better. i mean, i love your mouth, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-“ ;
like i said, goofy talk and lots of rambling <3 ;
he loves the feeling already, his body kind of moving on it’s own, fucking into you slowly, his body fully pressed on yours ;
kisses you a lot but on the cheek and neck because he wants to listen to the sounds you make ;
he lets out the prettiest moans, especially if you play with his hair as he’s inside you ;
don’t clench around him otherwise he’ll cum on the spot. “baby- baby. don’t. please. wanna last for you,” he’d beg. “wanna make you feel good.” ;
praise. he’d praise you soooo much, telling you every single thing about you he finds beautiful (spoiler: everything). will 100% blush if you do the same, “jagiiii~” ;
even though he’d love to come together with you at the same time, it probably won’t happen the first time you sleep with him - it’s okay, it just means he’ll make you cum with his mouth once again <3 ;
he’ll cum after what to him felt like an hour but were probably just twelve minutes, filling the condom with a broken sob - the feeling of your walls wrapped around him being too much ;
like i said - he makes you cum a second time with his tongue and lips even though you reassured him, telling him it’s fine, that you’re sarisfied. he’d insist. “no way my baby won’t cum on her first time with me. you just wait until i get better. i’ll make you cum so hard, baby, i promise.” and he will ;
you’ll take a shower together, taking turns washing each other’s bodies and hair. lots of kisses under the hot water ;
asks you a million questions once you’re cuddled up in bed. “how was it?” “was it good?” “did you like it?” “you’re not just telling that to spare my feelings, right?” “i was terrible, wasn’t i?” “i’ll understand if you don’t want to sleep with me ever again.”
you do sleep with him again. fifteen minutes later.
ngl i kinda wanna write a drabble about this….
-> reblog to show me your support. feedback is my motivation :D
#han jisung smut#jisung smut#han smut#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung hard hours#jisung hard thoughts#jisung hard hours#han hard thoughts#han hard hours#stray kids smut#stray kids masterlist#skz smut#skz masterlist#stray kids fanfic#han jisung fanfiction#han jisung fanfic#jisung fanfic#han jisung fic#jisung fic#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#han jisung drabble#han jisung x you#han jisung x reader
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
look closely | psh (m.)
pairing: sunghoon x reader
genre: smut, angst?, gala!au, idk what they are
word count & rating: 4k | 18+ (minors gtfo)
summary: you've been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon lately so he's not entirely pleased when you showed up with a date after turning down his offer.
warnings/content: jealousy • dirty talk • nipple/breast play, kinda mirror sex? • rough oral sex? (fellatio/deepthroating) • voyeurism? • hair pulling • pain kink lmao, semi-public sex again 😭, phones are being used of course ;)
a/n: ik it was supposed to be hockey!hoon from the poll but this mf posted and i was seeing things smh.
to say Sunghoon was confused is an understatement.
especially when you entered the doors arm in arm with none other than his best friend.
jake? when did this happen?
a series of questions start occupying Sunghoon's mind. at first, he didn't mind you rejecting him when he asked you to be his Valentine's date. maybe it was too much for you, that going to the gala with him might give your schoolmates the wrong idea.
and as always, Sunghoon took it like a man though it did confuse him cause he thought you both were on the same page. he was planning to ask you out if you had said yes but it's probably too early for it.
for you both to be official.
you've been spending a lot of time together since the beginning of the second semester. going on dates, studying together, and fucking each other's brains out for stress relief so Sunghoon thought there was something there but now he thinks that he read everything wrongly.
he's fully aware that you don’t owe him anything but he couldn't help himself feeling a little dumbfounded going alone to this event that your department's hosting. he thought that you'd be alone too but as he watches you and Jake wandering around to find your assigned table, he's lowkey regretting not asking other girls to keep him company instead.
.
you immediately felt Sunghoon's stare as soon as you entered the doors with Jake. rejecting him wasn’t really your intention because you'll gladly be his date for this event. it’s just that everything's becoming too real and confusing when he never even asked you to be his in the first place.
that's why you've been taking your distance.
it was just a simple date for a gala though so it shouldn't have mattered to you nor mean much to Sunghoon. he’d probably have a substitute date after you declined that’s why you said yes to Jake when he asked so you won’t look like a fool just in case you see Sunghoon there with someone else.
you don’t know if Jake knew that his best friend asked you first. with how close they are, surely it should be given that he’ll be aware but the surprise on Sunghoon’s face tells you otherwise.
now you’re utterly fucked.
this could appear as a low blow to Sunghoon since Jake’s his best friend. you should've considered this possibility when you agreed to be Jake's date but it somehow slipped your mind for whatever reason. it must be the desperation in you, considering him as a blessing in disguise when he asked you pretty last minute because you were already debating on not going.
seeing Sunghoon with a date would only ruin your night even if it's your fault. so you really thank the stars that Jake decided to ask you since you're already familiar with each other. besides, he’s a very sweet guy who’s become dear to you after sharing a class with him last semester so why not?
you’ve already acknowledged your stupidity in decision making anyway so might as well go through with it.
to ease up your nerves, you try conversing with Jake as soon as you both sit down, avoiding the pull to look at Sunghoon's way who's standing by the counter. you can see his figure from your peripheral view, wondering why he's still there when everyone is settling in their seats since the program's about to start.
could he be avoiding you and Jake? or is it the many girls crowding him? still taking chances if he'd entertain them since he didn't bring a date.
you’re sure they hounded him as soon as he arrived by himself but he could be waiting for you. to see if you were alone as well based on how he reacted earlier so now the guilt has been eating you up more quickly than you anticipated.
.
Sunghoon should've picked any of those girls to sit by him as he approached your table. watching you flirt with Jake was harder for him than he initially thought.
it riles Sunghoon up that you're being so sweet with Jake, even putting your hands on his chest whether it’s intentionally or not. he couldn’t even blame his best friend cause Jake's natural charm can woo anyone who comes across him.
"hoon, man, where's your date?" his friend turns to him as he’s sitting down on the chair while Sunghoon's gaze remains on you.
"nah i don't need one," he says dismissively, quickly switching his gaze to Jake with an amused smile cause he finds it adorable that you're avoiding his eyes.
he also finds it funny how Jake seems to be clueless about this underlying tension between you two, just like how Sunghoon is with this game you're playing.
he’s sure that he’s been so obvious but he also knows how dense his best friend could be. honestly, Sunghoon doesn’t really care either way if Jake knows whatever's going on or not. what he wants is to understand you because he couldn’t remember doing something that would have pushed you to go for his best friend instead of him.
if Sunghoon had asked anyone, they’d just tell him to move on since you basically gave your answer but he’s a driven man. plus, the way you're acting around him says enough so he smiles wickedly at himself.
this night should be fun.
if you really don’t give a fuck about him anymore then you would've acted differently so he'll just let you play around with Jake for now.
.
the program's halfway done when you feel someone's leg nudging yours below the table. without a doubt, it’s Sunghoon’s but you're still refusing to look at him. it'll frustrate him for sure but he surprises you when he casually joins your conversation with Jake. hopefully, your date won't notice that you've been avoiding his best friend.
everything was smooth since Sunghoon was doing the same as you, engaging in normal conversations with the others at your table despite his quiet personality. except, for the nonstop heated gazes he throws your way while his long ass legs nudge yours from time to time, provoking you.
you see, ignorance is usually your forte but not when it comes to Sunghoon and he knows that. it's like he must've sensed that you're about to kick his leg away cause he suddenly gets up, excusing himself to go to the washroom.
you end up hitting the chair instead, causing you to wince lightly and grabbing Jake's attention. his best friend, on the other hand, didn’t care about it nor your glare towards his retreating figure. so instead you turn to a very worried Jake and smile reassuringly at him.
"are you sure? you can just sit down and i'll get the food for you later"
"i am jakey, don't worry" you reach out to hold his shoulder and he calms down, relief now in his eyes as you smile at him. he returns it with an even brighter smile and just then realizes how gorgeous he actually is.
but so is Sunghoon, who by the way, hasn’t come back yet.
you backtracked cause why was he still lingering in your mind. worrying about him was even worse and it's making you restless no matter how much you shrug them away by talking more to Jake.
when dinner starts, your date rises from his seat to line up for food. he offered once again but you declined, leading for his worry to return. still needing a lot of convincing, you stand up and twirl to show Jake that you’re fine.
"see? totally okay! i'll be back okay?" you nod at him as you walk away, eyes immediately looking for Sunghoon who's nowhere to be found. you ponder his whereabouts cause he could be fucking someone right now like he used to in events like these.
the scenario your mind came up with made you uneasy. no denying on your part that seeing Sunghoon earlier with a bunch of girls made your stomach churn. you might totally lose your appetite if you somehow found him in that compromising situation. yes, it's essentially your fault because none of these feelings would be here had you said yes to him.
.
navigating around the empty halls was fortunately easy despite the intricate design of the place. the whole venue screamed classy and elegant so it took you a bit of time to find the large fancy washroom located on the upper floor because you were fawning over the interiors.
it's where you suspect Sunghoon would be instead of the ones downstairs that are usually packed with people. he's the type to find places where no one usually goes, preferring peace amid any form of ruckus.
and you were right, instantly spotting him leaning by the edge of the black marble counter with one hand in his pockets.
"took you long enough" he scoffs, looking up to you from his phone. he looks annoyed as he places it beside him but he proceeds to do you a one over that definitely didn't make you wet now that you're also taking his whole fit at once.
all formal in black with that signature hair of his that you really love.
"well thanks to you" you reply drily, recovering from that small relapse with your annoyance bubbling back to the surface. he must’ve thought it’s directed to him when you’re actually mad at yourself but you’ll let him think that way.
it's fun and this is how you usually talk anyway, bickering and teasing which you surely missed when things got awkward between you since that day.
"me? you're the one who's all over Jake" he huffs, shooting you a glare that you found amusing. he does look cute whenever he’s sulking, especially when he gets jealous although he masks it with indifference each time you call him out on it.
"he's my date hoon" you deadpan, stating the obvious which irks Sunghoon even more but he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes.
“why are you with him?” he starts, trying to sound nonchalant as he leans back. it might be hopeless and he shouldn't care this much but Sunghoon just wants to know the very reason he's alone in this gala.
“why can’t i be with jake?”
he was gonna tell you why if his ears didn't catch the teasing lilt in your tone the more you step closer to him. “isn’t he your best friend hoonie?” you add when he didn't answer, noticing his thick brows scrunching as he adjusts his gold bangle bracelets.
so you are doing it on purpose, staring him down right now with those beautiful eyes and playful smile like you didn’t break his heart weeks ago. he may acted like he was expecting you earlier but you pretty much didn’t care so he's still unsure why you followed him here when Jake's probably out there waiting for you.
maybe Sunghoon was wrong. well, he had been clearly assuming a lot of things so who knows. this could just be his inner desire hoping that you still want him.
“he is, but it doesn’t mean that i’ll share you with him” you're startled when Sunghoon grabs your waist as soon as his arms can reach you. he pulls you closer to him before burying his face in the crook of your neck.
one of your hands grasps his hair as a reflex, the other gripping his shoulders as you try to come up with a response. it's a bit hard when you can feel his breath fanning against your skin but he holds you for a bit, waiting for you to stop him.
when you didn’t, his lips touched your skin and began leaving kisses around your exposed collarbones. and since Sunghoon's been very familiar with your sensitive spots, he finds your weakest spot in the neck right away, coaxing a needy whimper from you.
“i-i’m not yours hoon” you're struggling to reply when you feel Sunghoon's smile but you love how eager he's been. aside from missing him in general, you’re deprived of his touch too since the last time you were in this position was the day you turned him down.
"no? but this one’s mine right?” both his hands move down and grab a handful of your ass, earning a surprise gasp from you. they're pretty quick too that you didn't even realize Sunghoon's pulled down your dress' plunging neckline, freeing your tits right in front of his face.
he eyes them hungrily as a hand of his stays on holding the hem, embarrassment flooding you as a result though he’s seen your bare body several times already.
in all honesty, Sunghoon would’ve found your flower shaped pasties adorable if the circumstances were different. he teases you nonstop about them cause he secretly loves it when you wear them instead of bras, easy access each time he touches you.
despite how much he missed you, he's still pissed so he peels them off a bit harshly, eager to taste your perked nipples but he finds it absurd that you're shying away from him.
the audacity of you to come here then.
instead of putting your pasties aside, he keeps them in his pockets and you’re about to protest when his large hands are on your bare tits at once, fondling them briefly before he latches his mouth on one of them.
"h-hoon—" a loud moan slips from your lips when his tongue starts flickering your nipple, leading you to grab his hair again and push his face further on your chest.
he occasionally bites a nipple as his palm gropes your breast, rendering you speechless at how it feels. you keep arching your back so Sunghoon's other hand returns to gripping your hips steadily.
looking down, you see Sunghoon's playfully making suctions while sucking your tits. it's his way of teasing you as he alternates on sucking both your breasts with his eyes closed, allowing your eyes to fixate on the mole in his nose that you adore.
with your breathing getting heavier every minute, suppressing your giggles has also been difficult each time his hair brushes your skin.
"hoon please.." you didn't plan on begging him but he's just too good at finding what makes you weak. watching his wet tongue and sharp canines graze your nubs didn't help either, heightening the sensation throughout your body so you couldn't help it.
but Sunghoon's a tease so you should've expected him to release your nipples with a pop after hearing your plea. with a taunting grin.
"now you're begging" he snickers, knowing exactly what you want from him. you pay no mind to it, brain’s all muddled currently at watching him lick his lower lips, eyes zeroing in on his saliva disconnecting from your buds.
you turn mute at that, not knowing how to respond to Sunghoon. the usual witty response to counter him’s nowhere to be found. all you can think of is finding ways to return to his good graces so you relent.
“yeah i am” you say quietly which surprises Sunghoon. you’re never the type to beg so he presumes that it's because you’re probably feeling guilty.
that’s why you’re here.
not really to see him but just to make him feel better.
it must be it so he proceeds to stare you down, contemplating if he’ll give you what you want. of course, Sunghoon would want to but he couldn’t possibly let you get away with this stunt you’re pulling tonight.
your exposed wet stricken breasts cause you to shiver while doing your best to maintain Sunghoon's gaze. he's making you wait too long so you softly squeeze his padded shoulders for an answer, watching his face morph back into being smug.
but before Sunghoon can even respond, you drop to your knees and look up at him with pleading eyes. he curses in his head trying to not give in right there. he's gotta keep his hardened exterior cause it's not often you’re this desperate hence why it’s one of his favourites.
“want my dick?” he teases, the familiar sly grin now plastered on his lips. you nuzzle against his clothed thigh as an answer and Sunghoon couldn’t help himself to reach out and caress your cheek.
he sees your hand reaching out and he takes it, allowing you to feel him over. then your hand fumbles to unbutton Sunghoon’s suit blazer, revealing his lean body that compliments his muscled arms.
he's fucking hot with this alone, given your kneeling position and you can't wait to finally make up to him now that he's letting you.
you're still a bit sus though that Sunghoon's making everything so easy.
he must've had other plans so you quickly pull down his pants and boxers, to have his cock in your mouth. you didn't get to though, his ringed fingers threading right through your scalp to stop you. a surprise whine and frustrating sigh escapes you but Sunghoon's enjoying seeing you like this.
“hoonie..” you coo, trying to look more deflated so he’ll release you. your earlier hunch was right and now little whore in you is excited to have his punishments again.
you eye his cock, so angry already with the precum coated tip that you’d do anything to taste it again but Sunghoon’s firm grip on your hair reminded you of what you did.
a pout graces your lips, surely he already knows what you’ve been missing. it’s been about a week or two since the last time you fooled around with Sunghoon, the same day you rejected him.
he stares at you intently without saying a word, seemingly unimpressed with your current way of begging. you're getting conscious again, mind scrambling on what else to do to convince him but you can't think of any.
but there's one thing you both have in common, impatience. you see it in the way he grabs his dick to tease your lips with it, running the tip across the edge of your lips. your tongue darts out in hopes of catching it but he suddenly slaps it against your cheek, causing you to pathetically whine against his clothed thigh.
“suddenly this desperate? then why’d you say yes to him?”
“i…”
you ran out of excuses just because you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon the truth. you’re not sure if he’s aware or which part of the truth he knows. if he does then it wouldn’t be a surprise. he can read you like an open book that’s why avoiding him earlier ended up being pointless.
it’s also why Sunghoon releases his grip on your hair a bit, allowing you to take his cock in your mouth. he misses the warmth your mouth is around him, the eager look in your eyes as you keep bobbing your head to please him.
well, it’s not enough. even for you, cause now he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when you want something more.
his hand didn’t leave your hair the entire time and excitement rush through you as soon as you watch him shift his stance, believing he’ll start fucking your throat.
but Sunghoon doesn't, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
instead, he pushed your head further down his cock, causing you to gag with the sudden movement. good thing you have amazing reflexes, hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose as you try to maintain eye contact.
you’re struggling when Sunghoon bunches up your hair and gives it a hard pull.
"did you really think i'd give you what you want?" he taunts, chuckling darkly as you moan around his length, the vibrations turning his laugh into a deep groan.
he would've let you with those begging eyes. he loves the desperation in them, making it one of his weaknesses. there's nothing he wants more than to fuck your throat but he can't give in that easy.
your head game's unmatched and it almost made him forget why you're here until he sees you slow your pace, intentionally taking him deeper until his tip nudges the back of your throat.
his hand returns pulling your hair, to the side this time as he picks up the phone beside him. it stings but you don't mind, letting Sunghoon control the pace of your sucking however he wants.
"so cock hungry, aren't you?" he grits his teeth, followed by a deep grunt.
he's being mean but you don't mind, nodding while your sole focus is running your tongue through the underside of his dick. to hear more of his deep grunts, now that he's mindlessly moving his hips slowly.
already anticipating it, you close your eyes to avoid the flash from Sunghoon's phone. if it'll make him forgive you then so be it.
you're not too concerned right now other than to make sure he finishes in your mouth. it boosts your ego, how you must've been doing so good for him to record you like this.
which suddenly ceased as soon as he releases your hair, his cock slipping out your drooling mouth.
"hoon?" you query, voice a bit confused as to why he's stopping you when you sense that he's close.
"get up" he spits and you obey, a bit disappointed when you see him putting his very hard length back in his pants.
before you can protest, Sunghoon flips you around and pulls you against him. now you're both facing the other mirror in front of you while you're on his lap.
you watch Sunghoon resumes what he was doing before you begged to suck him off. he's kissing your shoulders and upper back this time, ringed hands fondling your tits again and it's increasing your desperation. you can feel how hard he is under you so you start grinding on him out of frustration, hoping he'll finally fuck you.
"w-what do you want hoonie hmm? if you d-don't wanna fuck here then.." you gasp, stammering each word as his groping becomes rougher. "we can go back to dinner then leave after..oh fuck.." you throw your head back when pinches your sensitive nipples, grabbing a handful of his hair behind you.
"pretty sure it's over by now.." he drawls after suddenly releasing you, feeling his breath against your skin as his hands move down to guide your hips. you've been watching him through the mirror this time, looking unfazed while ignoring your words.
"but you still want dessert, right jake?" he adds, shifting his eyes to someone in the corner.
realization washed over you even before following Sunghoon's eyes after hearing the name. there in the corner of the room, you see Jake standing and clutching his phone in one hand while holding the door with widened eyes.
"i was wondering where you are.." his voice echoes, eyes trained on both you and his best friend. you have no idea how long Jake's been standing there, if he saw the whole thing or what. you were too busy focusing on anything else aside from his best friend.
and if he meant you or Sunghoon he didn't specify.
you both should've stopped but his best friend has no intention of, continuing to play with you as if Jake's not there. this tells you exactly how Jake found you both. the way he wasn't entirely surprised at what welcomed him, eyes raking your half-naked form which causes you to squirm against Sunghoon's lap.
Jake looks a bit nervous but there's a slight eagerness swimming in his eyes. you wonder if this is the first time Sunghoon did this, sending him lewd videos or pictures which you honestly find kinda hot. you keep grinding against Sunghoon's cock while watching Jake's gaze fixed on your tits which Sunghoon continues to fondle, earning more needy whines from you.
"figured that he's looking for us.." Sunghoon says wryly as he stops your hips from moving, his unbothered face turning to his best friend like this is just a common scenario between them. you watch Jake gulp nervously, slowly sinking in the implication of Sunghoon's words.
you heard it clearly, his tone alone suggesting that this night's far from over.
not until he's satisfied with your apology now that you have an audience.
e/n: now let's ignore that this was supposed to be for Valentine's but i ain't gonna wait for next year to post this to be on the right season 😭
#enhypen#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen angst#enhypen imagines#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#enha#park sunghoon#enhypen scenarios#smut#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop scenarios#enha smut
443 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?
TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧
ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-
headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking
——————————————————————————
 SFW !!
TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.
there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.
so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.
he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.
the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.
at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.
if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.
you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.
even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.
he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.
he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.
he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.
obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?
tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.
as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.
his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.
id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.
this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.
it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.
and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.
if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.
if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.
there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.
langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.
and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.
jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.
to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.
tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”
tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)
the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.
he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.
he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.
overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.
recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.
tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.
if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.
of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.
as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.
his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.
he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.
NSFW !!
tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.
he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.
(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.
(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.
(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.
he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.
when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.
he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.
but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!
started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.
©️nolovelingers 2023
#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ／ ⋆ ۪ NOLOVE FILEZ#tate langdon#tate langdon x reader#american horror murder house#murder house#ahs murder house#ahs fandom#fanfic#x reader#tate x reader#violet harmon#headcanon#tate ahs#tate langdon headcanon#american horror story#tate x violet#tate langdon x y/n#tate langdon x you#ty for the ask anon!#evan peters#evan peters x reader#evan peters x you#please send me prompts#evan peters headcanon#tate langdon smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dad headcanons | Leon S. Kennedy
warnings: pregnancy
I picture Leon being in absolute bliss when you break the news to him. He’ll be laughing while hugging you. He’s never had a normal family, and I believe he would want children of his own. He’ll be so happy he won’t be able to erase a dumb smile from his face for the rest of the day.
Reads lots of articles on parenting and baby development.
A worrywart. One day several noises woke you up late at night and you discovered your husband babyproofing everything in the house. Turns out he was so worried he couldn’t wait til’ the morning.
You have to be very careful about mentioning your cravings because this man is driving in the middle of the storm if that means getting what you want. You’ll have to physically stop him from going out at ungodly hours just because you crave some donuts.
If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even get out of bed. He has to be holding your hand when you use stairs, no matter how many times you’ve tried to convince him you are totally capable of doing it alone.
“What’s next? I’m not allowed to use scissors?”
Your laugh slowly quietens as you notice Leon’s thinking face.
“... I don’t see why you would have to use scissors”
One day he came home with a big present box and when you opened it a german shepherd jumped at you. He got a trained police dog to keep you company. (Not before making extensive research on the best family dogs, of course).
On top of that, he would want to hire someone to help around the house because the thought of you being alone makes him worried sick.
He’s so silly. Talks to your belly all the time. When he comes home he always greets you with “how are my babies doing?”
He goes crazy with baby stuff. Clothes, plushies, bottles, toys, everything he sees in stores ends up in the baby room. The room is so full of stuff you two had to keep some things in the attic. He has promised to stop buying things several times but there’s always something that catches his eye and he has to get it.
“And this is a baby monitor— I know that face, you don’t like it”
“No, I love it, it’s just…”
“Yes?”
“You already bought one of those, love”
“Aha! No, I bought a different one. Now, you see, the one we had doesn’t had all the features this one has…”
Strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to wait a bit before telling people about the pregnancy… However, he ends up spilling the beans two or three times. Also, people kinda catch onto it because all he talks about is about children’s development.
Sometimes you wake up at night to find your lover lying awake, watching at the ceiling. Truth is, he can’t help but worry about your child’s future and spends hours thinking about it; but when you ask him what’s keeping him up, he always answers that the excitement of becoming a dad won’t let him sleep.
Will do the impossible in order to be with you during the delivery. He has warned his superiors months in advance that he needs to rest during the days when is probable the baby is coming. In the worst case scenario, where he isn’t able to make it in time, he is gonna be regretful for a very long time.
Definitely cries the first time he holds his baby.
He randomly wakes up at night and goes to check the baby. He’ll sit in front of the crib and stay there for a while, sometimes he picks the baby up and just holds them. Will always give them a kiss on their forehead before leaving.
Converses with the baby. He could be feeding them, or changing their diaper, and he talks to them as if they could understand him. Tells them about his day, how work is going. If you two were ever to argue (which is very rare and, if you do, always with a certain joke air), he is bringing the baby and puts them on his side. He looks at the baby and asks “can you believe this?”
You’ve found him watching baby cartoons not noticing the child is long asleep.
He is beyond cheerful because everytime you are carrying the baby, they raise their tiny arms to his dad wanting to be held by him.
Asks Claire to babysit whenever you two go out on dates.
Which he later regrets because now, everytime the baby sees Claire, they reach out for her. Even if Leon is carrying them. Makes him a bit jealous.
Your baby walks and talks very early on because of how much time Leon spends with them.
Every parent believes their kid is exceptional, but Leon could win the proudest dad competition. As your child grows up, Leon is so amazed by every milestone they complete. “I’m telling you, this child is going places”, he tells you the day your baby learns to roll over.
You mentioned to him once how cute you thought albums were, so now you two keep one for your kid. He takes terrible photos, but you think those are very adorable and keep them in the album.
Takes playtime seriously. He isn’t like those parents who don’t even care about what’s happening and leave at the middle of the game. Tea party? He is wearing his best clothes. Pretending to be spies? Won’t break character. He will be bashful if you catch him tho.
He has this ongoing thing with your child where they try to build the biggest sandcastle everytime you go to the beach.
He always says ‘I love you’ when saying goodbye. Once your child hurriedly kissed his cheek and pretended to leave, but Leon stopped them and said: “Everytime I tell you I love you, I mean it, it’s not just mindless words. Do you mean it?” He knows that, and god forbids it happens, he could not come back home one day. So it’s crucial for him for his child to understand how much he loves them.
It breaks his heart to leave his family so often. On one occasion he overheard your child begging you to talk to their father and ask him to please stop going on missions.
I picture him having a daughter.
The kind of man who takes his daughter to dates. Everytime he brings you flowers, he has another bouquet for his princess.
Your daughter is a performer. She makes up dances and songs and performs in front of you two.
Once, when she was young, she told him she wanted to marry him. He answered he couldn’t marry her because he is already married to you, to which your girl replied “Can I marry uncle Chris then?” Leon hasn’t recovered from that.
Maybe a bit delusional but you two invite over his D.S.O friends for Christmas, Claire and Chris included, and everyone brings a present for your daughter.
He’d like more than one kid, but often worries about what would happen to his family if he ever goes missing, so for now, another one isn’t in the plans.
Lying by your side at night, he sometimes thanks you for the opportunity to have a family.
#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x y/n#re2#resident evil#resident evil 2#fluff#leon headcanons#tw pregnancy
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
So I was thinking about virgin Y/n begging experienced Gojo to do it with her after he refused many times not wanting to rush her into things she could regret later on but then after she begged and begged he ended up fucking her at the edge of the bed forcing her to look in the mirror how he fucks her, with lots of praising.
Please?!
Gojo x virgin reader
First time writing on Gojo sooo here we go.
"Please?!"
"No."
"Please?!"
"No."
"Pleaseeeee?!"
"Since you put it that way I guess I’ll still say no. What’s up with you? Your being so persistent about something we’ve talked about before. Your not ready y/n" he said as he slouched onto the couch.
You decide to sit next to him with a disappointed look on your face. So he could see how much his answer affected you. It’s been 7 month of you guys dating and you still had yet to get some action.
You curse yourself for ruining your opportunity the first time. It was when you guys where two months in and he had you on his bed. You guys were kissing and taking his clothes off first because you were too embarrassed to do it first. You were so nervous that in the middle of making out you blurted out that fact that you were a virgin. His eyes widened at your response and he got off of you immediately, nothing ever happened after.
You didnt understand why that happened. Other people told you how much of a whore your boyfriend was before dating you and that he would sleep with anyone that caught his eye. Now he decided to be a saint and go months without doing it. You could remember googling if being a virgin was bad. How to seduce your boyfriend into doing it with you. Is my boyfriend broken?
You didn’t really gain much information with that last one.
You lay on his lap defeated. You laid down facing him so he could see how sad you were from the answer he just gave you. Were you meant to die a virgin? Looking up at him you could see how his pupils moved around from watching tv.
"Gojo please? Iv heard it’s bad for a guy to be pent up like that." You say.
He looks down at you with a smile,"thank you for your concern but I’m fine trust me." He said.
Maybe it was time you try to seductively win him over. You remember everything that Reddit post said about doing it. You just gotta look hot and do sexual things. When you thought about the example you’ve read your face turned red. How in the world do they think your going to put his fingers in your mouth so you can suck on them?! This was to embarrassing and scandalous. You cover your face not wanting to think about it anymore. You could also feel his gaze on you as he watched you.
Fuck it you’ll just suck him off. You took a deep breath before quickly unzipping his pants and unbuttoned it. He froze at your sudden antics and sighed as he tried to stop you. You pushing his hands away thought and got him member out of his pants. It was as big as you remember it being.
"Whenever your done doing whatever this is can you please put it back?" He raised a brow.
You shrug and put the tip in your mouth making him jump. "Hey get it out of your mouth." He says trying to push you off of him. You refused and went as deep as you could. To the point of your eyes watering and your mouth feeling so full that you gagged.
"You realize your less than halfway right?" He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
He didn’t know weather to feel second hand embarrassment or surprise by your willingness.
"You know what fine, I’ll give you what you want but just know I’m not going to go easy on you. I keep telling you your not ready and you don’t listen. If you won’t listen to me then I won’t listen when your crying later." He said standing up and carrying you into his room over him shoulder.
Finally, this was a win for you. Your finally managed to convince him to do it with you!
He laid you on the bed and began to take his clothes off. When he finished he turned to you and began to take your shirt off. You gasp remembering that you haven’t even been fully naked in front of him. He slowly took them off as he buried his eyes onto your skin. Looking at everything he hasn’t seen before. You felt so exposed nervous at the same time. Looking at body you admired how it was built. As if he were an god or something. Your eyes narrow down to his member and you notice something. Did it get bigger?!
"Don’t get all shy on me now." He cooes as he easily read you. your try to hide your breast from him since he was starting to stare daggers into them.
He leans in and kisses you passionately as he removes your hands and puts them on your side. He kissed you so desperate that it was hard to keep up with him. His tongue in your mouth as he explored everything. You didn’t seem to notice that he was taking your bottoms off since he was keeping your attention somewhere else. When you did notice you jump.
"Wait! This is too fast no?" You say pushing his face away.
"We would of been doing the deed by now if it wasn’t for you dragging things on like this." He said as he slipped your bottoms off in one go.
Your hand immediately moves to cover yourself but by the time you almost reach it Gojo is already eating you out. You throw your head back at the weird sensation. This isn’t okay right? Like is he even supposed to be doing that? You squirm feeling how the tongue moved inside of you.
"Du chu ike at?" You hear him say as he ate you out.
You looked at him confused not begging able to understand a word. He emerges from inbetween your legs and shoved two finger in you making you gasp.
"I said, do you like that?" He smirked at you as he started to curl his fingers inside of you repeatedly.
"Stop doing that and put it in my already!" You furrow your brow.
"Your no fun," he exhaled deeply as he sat In front of you and spread your legs wide.
You once again cover your face from embarrassment. You could feel how he shoved around to a position. You couldn’t help but be scared. You’ve been told that losing your virginity can be so painful while others say that it didn’t hurt at all. Hopefully it was going to be painless. Your attention was brought back by him rubbing his member up and down your cunt. Smacking it a few times on you making you jump.
Clearly he was taunting you and trying to see if you tapped out last minute. You take a deep breath as you mentally prepared yourself. There’s no way your backing out now. You feel how the tip of his member was slowly pushed in. Nothing bad until he continues to go in. It felt like he was going to rip you apart.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! It hurts!" You tell as you started pushing him back with your leg.
You could hear him chuckle as he grabbed your foot that you placed on his chest to force him back.
"Y/n, I said I wasn’t going to go easy on you." He pushes your leg down to your chest.
Your eyes widen realizing this wasn’t going to be as easy as you initially thought it would be. He continued to slide in as you frantically try to stop him. Your begging him to stop and to go slower.
"Gojo, please it hurts so bad! I can’t, I can’t!" You say as tears appear in the corner of your eyes.
He leans into you and caresses your chin as he whispered into your ear.
"Be a good girl and take me. This is what you’ve been begging for no? I’m giving it to you so how about a thank you?" He said as he leaned back.
He mouthed 'thank you' to you as a way for you to do what he said.
You shake your head not wanting to do something like that. You could see a devilish grin form on his face as he began to press into you again. The same burning and painful sensation started again.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You yell hoping it would stop him and that it did.
"You know the best way to get me all the way inside with only a bit of pain?" He asks you.
You look at him hoping for a good resolution to this.
"It’s distraction, so I’m going to try to distract you as I go inside of almost like this!" He finished his sentence as he rams into you.
Your body lurched from the pain and you let out a loud cry. That had to be one of the most painful experiences in your life. Tears began to fall from your eyes from the pain.
"Aw my poor sugar cube don’t cry. I know it hurts a lot but I needed to get inside. Right now your insides are getting used to me so just relax. You did such a good job." He said as he ran his fingers on your shaking thigh.
You nod at him as you wipe your tears away. It took a bit for your body to get kind of used to him. When he noticed he he slid out and turned you around. He told you to get on fours and to look at yourself in the mirror.
"I think iv been pretty patient with you so it’s my turn to have fun okay? Be a good girl and no cryin" he kisses you on the head.
Once again he slid inside of you fully making you want to cry again. You see as he shook his finger at you telling you not to cry. You shut your eyes and fight off the tears. Once he decided to move he slid out and slammed into you fully. Your jaw drops a bit from the sudden unfamiliar feeling. This was something new to you. A feeling that made you feel a way you couldn’t describe. He did it a few times before saying something.
"That’s it huh? That’s your sweet spot. Found it faster than I thought I would. Now we can have real fun." He smiles.
He grabs you by the hips and digs deep into your cunt making you moan. He rolled his over and over again.
"Such a good girl, this is what you wanted huh?" He praised you.
He grabbed you by the hair making you look straight in the mirror as he pushed you down. He made sure your ass was still up as he pounded you forcefully.
"Gonna make you into such a whore for my cock only." He groans as your walls tighten.
He pounded you so aggressively that you gripped on the bed sheets and let out whimpers. He forced you to look at how me drilled your virgin hole with no mercy. The wet sounds filling your ears as he continued.
"I feel weird Gojo, ah! Something feels really off." You moan.
"Fuck, your gonna come huh? Be a good girl and come all over my cock. I want you to leave a mess on it." He says as he doesn’t stop. He pushed your head down as he went in you harder. Your legs began to shake as you orgasmed. Tears began to fall as you finished so hard. The sensation was something so amazing. You couldn’t move from the after math of it. You felt so weak and out of energy.
"Common get back up, i haven’t finished yet."
#gojo sensei#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#satorugojo
536 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine | Harassed (Shanks)
Imagine doing some shopping when a strange man won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: some violence, reader is harassed and threatened, reader is a badass
Word Count: 1143
(Not my gif)
You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed on an island this long. It must’ve been years ago, long before you met him.
Traveling had always been a desire of yours. To traverse the world, discovering different cultures and landscapes, that was your dream.
And you’ve been living it gratefully for years.
Of course, it’s always nice to spend more than a few days ashore once you have the opportunity.
Your Captain has business on this tropic island, and you’ve been enjoying the leisure time that this gives you.
Right now, you’re shopping at the local markets, admiring the bright jewelry and clothing that the various vendors offer.
A raucous laugh sounds off behind you. You ignore it, minding your own business, even as you hear a loud whistle.
“Hey, pretty lady,” a man’s voice says.
You continue ignoring it, instead reading the price of a beautiful red jewel.
This apparently aggravates the man trying to get your attention. He grabs your shoulder roughly, expecting it to be easy to turn you towards him.
You remain in place, stronger than the man anticipated.
After he removes his hand, you turn to him with a frown, “May I help you?”
He’s a tall man in a nice suit, not too shabby looking. Too bad his personality is rotten. Behind him are five more men in similar fashion. You take clear note of the weapons strapped to their sides.
“I was talking to you,” he growls. “I don’t like being ignored.”
“I don’t like being hassled,” you retort, crossing your arms.
“I was just saying how gorgeous you are,” he explains with a slimy grin.
You turn on your heel, “Thanks.”
“Hey!” He shouts, getting closer to you so that you can feel his breath. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“Do you know who I am?” You ask pointedly.
“You’re a pretty piece of ass that needs to be taught a lesson,” he scowls, stepping back. “And we’ll gladly be your teachers.”
Disgust washes over you.
“Are you trying to hit on me? Because you’re doing a poor job of it. And you’re wasting your breath- I’m already taken.”
“I could take you better than he ever could,” he tries to argue.
Your laughter is impossible to hold back, “You’re delusional, you aren’t even near his level. You should stop talking now.”
A smirk forms on your lips as you watch the man shake with anger. His eyes are alight with rage at being shot down and humiliated in front of his friends.
Meanwhile, you’ve mentally checked out, comparing the red of the jewel to your man’s hair. He loves seeing you in his colour.
A loud click goes off near your ear, the kiss of cold metal on your temple a warning not to move.
“You’re gonna regret speaking to me like that.”
You step back from the market stall, shooting an apologetic look towards the owner. The poor girl looks terrified.
One of the man’s lackeys has pulled his gun on you, standing much too close for comfort.
Unimpressed, you shake your head, “How immature.”
“I’m going to-“
He stops as a malevolent aura suddenly appears, causing sweat to form on his brow.
“What exactly are you going to do?” A deceptively calm voice speaks out, followed by footsteps as a red-haired man approaches.
The man in front of you has gone paler than a corpse, shaking just like the man holding the gun against your head.
“Red-Haired Shanks,” a man near you whispers in terror.
They seem to be grasping the situation now. Although, you could have handled the situation just fine on your own.
You smile at your man, who raises a quizzical brow.
“These guys bothering you?”
Before you can reply, the hassler interrupts, “Please, sir we had no idea-“
A gunshot rings out and the gun pressed against your head suddenly falls as the man collapses in a display of bright red blood.
Infuriated, you kick out, knocking the guy to the floor next to his dead buddy.
“Shut up. You should have respected me regardless of who I associate with,” you deliver a harsh kick to his side before pressing your foot on top of his chest.
“Scum like you are less than worms to me,” you grit out, adding more pressure until you hear a sickening crack of a broken rib and the man cries out in pain. “You never know when to quit.”
You reach out a hand towards Shanks and he hands you his sword without hesitation. None of this dimwit’s posse do anything to try and help their leader.
They know it’s a battle they could never win.
With a graceful flick of your wrist, the man below you is impaled through the heart. A clear message to anyone watching.
You fix your gaze on the remaining losers, “Don’t harass people, okay?”
They nod profusely, muttering nonstop apologies as they retreat quickly.
You crouch down to wipe the blood off of Shank’s sword, handing it back with a smirk.
“Darling,” he sheathes his weapon, moving closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was stunning.”
“Shanks, I was handling it just fine before you showed up,” you say, passing a glance over his shoulder to offer a smile to Benn Beckman. “But thanks for the assist anyways.”
“I know, but you know how I get seeing someone get so close to you,” Shanks says, looping his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when they threaten what’s mine.”
You grin, pressing your lips against his and nipping at him playfully.
“Why didn’t you deal with them sooner?” He inquires once you break away.
“Maybe I wanted to play the part of the damsel for once,” you tease. “Seeing you all protective and possessive gets me riled up.”
“Vixen,” he laughs, “You knew I was watching.”
“I always know, Shanks,” you wink at him. “Just like I know you’ll buy this for me.”
You show him the jewel that perfectly matches the shade of his hair.
He laughs, handing the money over to the shopkeeper, “I could never deny you, Y/n.”
He embraces you again and you lean into his warmth, inhaling the familiar scent of sake and sea breeze.
“I think I’ll have it made into a ring, that way everyone will know you’re mine.”
The grin that breaks onto your face is enough to brighten his whole lifetime.
He hugs you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your head.
He’d never let anyone else touch his treasure, he’d destroy anyone if they tried.
But he also knows you can fend for yourself, one of the many qualities that he adores about you.
You take his hand, leading him down the market, “Now you’re stuck shopping with me~”
He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
#female reader#imagine#reader insert#x reader#one piece#one piece x reader#shanks x reader#shanks#akagami no shanks#red haired shanks#one piece imagine#one piece shanks#op#op x reader#red haired shanks x reader
931 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lonelyandwantingtodie
It's almost time to give up
abonline-rp
a/b/online
mechula
MER
istotalavvpnanygood
Untitled
cosmo-is-crushing
Rayman brainrot going crazy rn